#couldn’t have done it without you toni

[flyhighisco]

he just can’t quite let us go 😭

[velvrei]

logan dating tony starks daughter !!! like he wants to dislike you soooooo bad because he automatically assumes you’re some spoilt brat who’s always gotten anything and everything that she’s wanted without having to lift a finger but after being forced to spend time with you (probably because of missions) he can’t help but fall head over heels for you!!! that stark charm is definitely something to be in awe of (ur dad and him still despise each other tho)

the other stark

pairing: older!logan howlett x stark!reader

summary: logan finally meets you, tony starks daughter at an avengers gala. as much as he thinks you are a stuck up brat who has everything handed to her, he couldn’t wait to have his hands on you.

warnings: smut, age gap (legal), somewhat forbidden romance, slight degradation, praise kink, cowgirl position, face riding, oral (f receiving), kinda slow burn, kinda enemies to lovers, really filthy smut, intentional overuse of the word fuck at the end, tony is pissed when he finds out

word count: 5k

a/n: don’t look to closely on the gif cause you’ll find the part where i didn’t try

nsfw below the cut!

logan was not looking forward to attending the avenger’s ‘met gala'. mostly because he knew he would be meeting the folks he was supposed to despise the most.

tony stark invited the x-men as a way of trying to mend the rip between the two groups; it was always avengers vs. the x-men, never avengers and the x-men. tony wanted to change that. logan didn’t.

as everyone arrive, there was a little red carpet where several photographers stood, flashing pictures in the hopes of capturing good shots of each of the visitors.

the x-men limo slowly approached the curb, with spectators surrounding the vehicle as everyone exited.

logan huffed and climbed out the door, disregarding the fangirls that surrounded him, eager to get the night over with.

he walked up to the carpet alongside his team, each member getting a solo shot. when it was logan’s turn, he rested his face and let the camera take pictures of him, stood up straight.

he was wearing dress pants, a button up, with the sleeves rolled up just above his forearms, and a black vest over his button up. the shirt easily displayed his muscles, which he claimed was unintentional, but it was vastly intentional.

the paparazzi turned their cameras as another limo pulled up, and out came peter parker, and logan rolled his eyes knowing it was all the younger avengers.

logan couldn’t help but watch as peter stepped to the side, holding his hand out as he watched a woman get out. he gulped, seeing who the woman was.

it was you, tony starks daughter, or so he heard from his team. he had never actually met you. as much as he wanted to persuade himself he wasn't drawn to you, it would be a complete lie.

you were wearing a long, form fitting dress. it was a dark red, almost maroon. you wore gold heels and chunky gold bangles and necklace along with it, making sure it wasn’t just one color, which was something logan noticed.

peter stood at your side and it made logan a bit curious as to what your relationship with him was, but once he saw you two begin bickering he quickly realized it was more of a sibling relationship.

logan felt like he was going through the five stages of grief as the two of you walked over, followed by some others that exited the limo. you walked in front of peter, walking up to the red carpet.

logan was still stood in the middle, he quickly turned his attention in front of him, looking at the camera for the picture.

“logan! pose with tony’s daughter!” one of the men behind the camera shouted. peter shot you a protective look, however you just shook your head, silently telling him to calm down.

logan almost huffed as you walked up next to him, even though you had never met the man, it would be more embarrassing to turn down the offer in front of millions of people.

“logan.” you say.

logan questions the fact you know him, wondering if he should’ve done his research beforehand.

“y/n.” he responds. he knows your name, and that’s it. he knows nothing else about you, and he is almost sure he doesn’t want to know.

the more he stood next to you, the longer he saw how many times you posed for the camera, wanting to roll his eyes but holding back knowing that would definitely get caught on camera.

you gave a small smile to the camera, turning to logan as you stood next to him. the two of you stood together, nothing more.

logan saw it as awkward, while you thought nothing of it, walking off the red carpet as he followed, quickly finding his team in attempt to avoid speaking to you any longer.

…

it had been an hour and logan hadn’t seen you again sense the introduction. he knew he was bound to be brought back to you again, but he didn’t want to be the cause of it.

logan finally spotted wade, approaching him, trying to pretend that wade wasn’t his comfort person.

“well hello my second favorite furball! i’ve missed you.” wade’s words make logan roll his eyes.

“missed ya too, bub. i barely know anyone here.” logan admits, quietly. he looks around the room to see if he saw anyone else he was comfortable with, but he just saw you in the corner, casually chatting with thor.

wade gasps, beginning to speak loudly on purpose. “the wolverine doesn’t know people-” wade starts but logan covers his mouth, staring daggers into his eyes.

“shut the fuck up. now is not the time.” logan says rather quiet, seeming a bit panicky as wade furrows his eyebrows.

wade goes to say a muffled remark but catches where logan’s distress is coming from. logan slowly lets go of wade’s mouth, watching as wade’s face brightens as if a light bulb had just been placed over his head.

“is billionaire bitch still your opp?”

“stop fucking talking like that.”

wade couldn’t help but giggle. “is it because of tony? he’s trying to make amends, stud muffin. i don’t know why you’re stressed.”

logan goes to respond, but takes a second, actually processing. “i- i don’t know why i’m stressed either if im being honest.”

wade smiled, appreciating the fact that his friend was actually processing his feelings instead of pushing away. that was something wade had taught logan, which was something wade had learned from his therapist.

“logan, you can’t hate the avengers forever. we’re gonna be forced to work with them. and as much as you may hate the starks, i’ve already looked at the first mission list and you’re partnered up with stark’s daughter.”

logan practically chokes on his champagne as wade speaks his last sentence. logan didn’t know whether to be curious or incredibly annoyed.

“oh, fuck me…” logan complains, rubbing his forehead.

wade holds back a giggle, “oh, i’m sure she will.”

with a smack to wade’s arm, the two boys noticed you and your father making your way over to them. logan almost cussed out tony in his head.

tony walked up, you not far behind your father, you have wade a side hug and gave logan a hand shake, that was strangely quick. tony smiled his millionaire smile. “thank you guys for joining us tonight. so glad you could make it, and i’m so happy we can finally kill this little rivalry.”

you knew your dad was being fake, but it wasn’t your place to say anything, especially when it was against wolverine and deadpool.

logan spoke the words, “i’m happy to be here,” but his face showed different, which earned him a smack in the arm from wade.

“i bet. we have a lovely spread of finger foods and you’re more than welcome to help yourself to some more champagne. would’ve told you how expensive it was before you decided to chug it all, however that’s okay.”

logan literally bit his tongue to stop himself from retaliating. if it was really okay as tony offered, tony wouldn’t care of the price.

after a few more dreadful minutes of banter between the two, and many side eye looks between you and wade, tony walked away, leaving just you, wade and logan.

which wade quickly saw himself out. “i’m gonna go find the woman with the magic hands, been dying to meet her. you two fartknockers try not to kill each other, okay?” his voice seemed so sarcastic but wasn’t, which made you almost smile.

wade walked away and left the two of you there. logan sighed as you started talking.

“you know, you don’t have to avoid me, logan.”

logan’s eyes shot up into yours. he wasn’t avoiding you. was he? “excuse me?”

you almost huffed, watching as his body tensed up. you stood up straight, even though you were still a bit shorter than him. “logan. i am not my father.”

your words cause logan to scoff. logan knew you weren’t your father. he just saw you as an exact replica of your bloodline. he didn’t want to say that right to your face, but you noticed he was processing a response, so you ignored the awkward silence and let him get his thoughts in order.

“obviously, you’re not him. your father is a 55 year old billionaire with a mustache. however you two are more similar than you think.”

his words make you think for a minute, deciding to keep the conversation a bit flirty, as much as you convinced yourself it wasn’t a good idea.

“listen, my father and i are just like you and wade. one is the caustic, sassy fighter who never knows when to quit. and the other is the hot one who simply follows the other's example.” your remarks force his brow to furrow.

out of the long phrase you just said, logan only processed one thing. “did you just call me hot?”

you smiled, batting your eyelashes before answered. “no, i called myself hot. you just happened to assume we’re similar, proving my point.”

logan hated how self centered you were. key word, hated. logan slowly realized how attractive your confidence was, but covered it up through his grunts and complaints of how stuck up you were. you weren’t wrong at all. you were hot, and there was nothing he could do about it.

logan rolled his eyes, “of course. you evil woman.” his words were half sarcastic, but you smiled, quickly remarking to his comment.

“you can call me evil, lo, but you can’t call me ugly.” and with that you walked away, leaving him there in his thoughts for the second time that night.

logan huffed. he would be lying if he said your words didn’t get to him. but he couldn’t. he was over half your age, and your father was the one person on this earth he couldn’t stand.

…

the first mission was the hardest. you and logan didn’t agree on much, the two of you couldn’t even decide on what food the team should get after the mission.

with each mission, logan felt his hatred for you slowly slipping away. as much as he tried to keep it because of who your father was, he couldn’t help but secretly adore you. your confidence, your skills, your remarks.

when you shared missions, logan was always paired with you. wade was sometimes there, but sometimes it was just the two of you. logan was the muscles, while you were the brains.

as much as he hated that, each mission he found it easier and easier to protect you. at first, he almost didn’t want to, so that way you could possibly learn your lesson.

then, by the third mission, he was protecting you like you were his own. you noticed those changes, knowing you were slowly getting to the man.

it was the aftermath of the fifth mission. all the avengers and x-men rented out a hotel through tony’s card. it was a smaller one, but was able to fit everybody. each partner was neighbored, but thankfully for logan not in the same room if opposite genders.

so logan was lucky enough to have a room to himself, however, that meant sleeping on his bed, knowing yours was on the opposite side of the wall. the walls weren’t exactly thick, which made it harder for him to keep himself together.

he felt filthy as he listened to your phone conversation with one of your friends. he refrained his interest and was just laying in his bed, reading a book when something you said striked his interest.

he assumed your friend asked about the person you were partnered up with, because as soon as your name left his mouth he couldn’t help but listen.

“yeah, i’m with logan.” he perked up, placing a book mark into his book before placing it onto his nightstand. he felt creepy listening in on your conversation, but convinced himself he had every right because he heard his name.

he heard nothing but mumbles from your friend, before he heard you speaking again.

“yeah, i can’t even lie, everytime i walk past him i just… there’s just something about him being my dad’s least favorite person that makes me want him even more.”

logan was at a loss for words. you wanted him? no. you couldn’t. he was practically forbidden. he felt like a pervert at the fact that his pants were tightening.

the friend laughed, and logan was not tuned out from your conversation, wondering what should be done from there. he quickly reminded himself that was your private conversation that he wasn’t supposed to hear, so what he knows must remain a secret.

…

logan usually wasn’t one to get much sleep, especially during the nights during missions, and especially only hours ago he found out you had the hots for him.

it was around two in the morning. he tossed and turned, trying to figure out what he should do.

he paused, throat feeling dry. he stood, throwing on his pajama pants, not bothering to wear a shirt before he left his hotel room, walking down the single set of stairs to the mini den, where there was a small kitchen and some lounge chairs.

he unintentionally scanned the room, catching you sitting in one of the lounge chairs, book in hand and your reading glasses sat low on your nose.

he swallowed his spit, walking over the the cupboard and grabbing a small glass, filling it with clean tap water from the sink.

the noise of the water running through the sink brought you from your reading trance, you took your glasses from your face and set your book down, finally noticing logan’s presence.

you slowly stood up, and logan tried to ignore your actions. looking out the window above the sink and quickly downing his water.

before he could leave the room you stopped him. “got somewhere to be?” your words made him sigh, head falling down as he turned his body to you.

he shook his head, realizing his attempt to avoid you was unsuccessful. you gave him your signature smile, not breaking eye contact even though he was tempted to.

“just tired.” his eyes tell different. he wasn’t tired at all. just couldn’t sleep. he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to now that he was down here with you.

“why are you lying to me? why are you avoiding me?” your words slow down as you mention him avoiding you, making sure your sentence really sinks in to his mind.

you couldn’t help but eye his shirtless figure, noticing how defined his abs we’re and feeling yourself become wet because of how manly he looked.

he notices your eyes and gulps, you watch his adams apple bob, and he suddenly realizes he needs to not look like a fucking pussy, even though he feels like one.

“why do you care?” his voice is back to his usual raspy. there’s your boy. you smile, finally recognizing he was back to the grumpy man you know and forbiddingly wanted.

“am i supposed to not care because my dad doesn’t? because i’ve told you many times. i am not my father.”

logan couldn’t help but search your body up and down. his act of checking you out, which you caught, makes your smile grow. “clearly not.” logan murmurs.

you eyebrows raise, your eyes never leaving his. “is that flirty comment leaving your mouth?” your words make him almost stutter but he takes a deep breath to stop himself from being vulnerable around you.

“no. it’s only flirting if you take it that way. i’m not flirting with you. i can’t.” logan’s last words make you curious. was he not flirting because he didn’t want to, or cause he couldn’t?

“you can’t? cause of my dad? fuck who my dad is. as much as i love him he’s gotten in the way of almost everything i’ve wanted that didn’t follow his path for me. i’m not letting him ruin this for me.” his breath quickened as you continued, “sometimes a girl needs to be taken care of. no matter who it is..”

your words make his eyes widen. he didn’t even know what to say.

we’re you flirting with him? he knew based on your phone call earlier that you wanted him because of the thrill it brought. but was that the only reason? did you actually want him?

“is that right?” his voice is low, trying to hide his desperation, and his words make you realize you’ve got him. he’s slowly letting down his forbidden barrier.

which is exactly what you wanted.

you step closer to him. “exactly right.” you were so close to him, only a few inches from his face, his husky breath fanning your face, you were able to smell his minty toothpaste from when he brushed his teeth just a few hours before.

you smiled, trailing a hand down his arm, watching satisfied as he shivered beneath your touch. “feels good, doesn’t it?”

logan backed up, finally letting his head reprocess what was happening. “no. y/n. we can’t. we can’t.” he repeats, and you can’t tell if he’s convincing you, or himself.

"why not? cause of my dad? don't you want to anger him? make him mad? isn't that what you've always wanted? well his daughter is standing right here, begging you to take care of her, to show her how she deserves to be taken care of."

logan almost moans at the thought. you step closer to him again, hand running down his arm.

you watched as he shivered, but instead of stepping back this time, he leans into your touch.

he sighs, your touch calming his nerves. he looks down at you, jaw clenching. "i'm.. too old for you. you deserve someone younger."

his words almost make you scoff in disagreement, and you couldn't help but disagree more with him.

"younger? all the guys my age are either assholes or taken, logan. i need someone older, to take care of me, to show me what it's like to be treated right, and fucked good. wouldn't you rather that that be you, rather than another man your age?"

it's like you knew just what to say, because he was standing there, as his dick hardened in his pants at your words.

he wanted you so bad. he didn't know what to say. he wanted to protest, for your sake, all he knew is that he wanted you so fucking bad.

your name tumbles from his lips, trying to think of what to say next.

“don’t tell me we can’t. because we can. we can do whatever we fucking want. we’re adults, aren’t we, lo?”

he sighs as the nickname slips from your mouth, he bites his lip, looking down at you, searching your eyes for any hesitation. he found none. just pure lust. he almost moaned as you gazed into his eyes, pupils dilating slightly.

“we are.” is all he says, eyes looking from your pupils, down to your lips. he licked his, eyes sharpening as he perked up.

you smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes, practically daring him to make the first move.

you decided to tease him a bit more, knowing exactly how to irritate him.

“i could always, go find another older guy to take care of me.” your words caused him to growl, slightly, jaw clenching at the thought of you with another boy, let alone an older guy.

“hell no. you’re mine.” his words make you smile, your expression still facing away from him as you turned your head, raising your eyebrows at him.

“i’m yours?” your words slightly questioning him, “prove it.”

at that moment, logan felt all his control slipping away.

the moment he’d been waiting for had finally come, he could finally devour you the way he had dreamed about many nights before.

you started to walk away, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back in his direction and turning you around.

his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, his other on your waist, bringing you closer and finally connecting your lips with his.

he moaned into the kiss, knowing this was the moment he’d been waiting for. his lips were hungry, he was hungry.

logan let his hands roam along your body, both going down to grab your ass, squeezing and chuckling as you squealed into his mouth, taking that as his chance to slide his tongue into your mouth, touching yours.

he couldn’t help but moan as your lips wrapped around his tongue, sucking on it.

your eyes looked at his. causing his body to tremble at how dirty you were being.

he quickly squeezed your ass again, as the two of you continued to kiss, spreading your legs and picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“who knew you were so fucking naughty.” he whispered against your lips, pecking them after speaking then setting you onto the counter.

he stood in between your legs, hands running up your thighs, noticing how short your sleep shorts really were.

he kissed you again, kissing your jaw and continuing down your neck.

he made out with the sensitive skin just below your chin, panting as your head fell back gently against the cupboard.

his hands slowly went under your t-shirt, nails running against your torso, and up to your chest, squeezing, hearing as you moaned, quickly bringing one out and covering your mouth.

“gotta stay quiet, sugar. wouldn’t want your father hearing and getting curious.”

you moan into his hand, and he just chuckles at you, enjoying how needy you’re being just for him. he’s grunting against your skin, his hand moving faster than his brain.

he tries to ignore the fact his dick is practically leaking in his pants as his hand runs up your thigh, closer and closer to your core.

his face is still in your neck, as his hand pushes your shorts and underwear aside, his other still around your mouth to silence your sounds.

he quickly slips a finger in your pussy, smiling into your neck as he feels you moan into his hand. he pressed a kiss against your neck, as he wasted no time, thumb rubbing against your clit as his finger penetrated your hole.

he stuck another finger in, loving the fact he had you trembling under him. his two fingers curved inside of you, watching as your thighs shook at his unexpected action.

you whined into his hand, almost biting down onto his fingers.

he noticed that and removed his hand for a brief second before slipping his fingers into your mouth.

his lips moved from your neck to your ear. “god, look at you, letting my fingers stuff two of your holes,” he moaned around your fingers, smiling to himself as he shoves them down your throat.

his fingers leave your mouth after making you gag, his other set of two fingers still inside your pussy.

his other hand went to your neck, holding it as he licked a long stripe up and kissed it, nibbling on your soft skin.

“fuck, if your dad walked down right now and saw how much of a slut you’re being for me. would piss him off so bad, wouldn’t it, sugar.”

his words made you bit your lip, holding back your whimpers and whines as his fingers relentlessly pounded into you.

you finally let out a whimper, causing his smile to grow, his fingers leaving your pussy, leaving you slightly stretched out.

he placed a sweet, quick kiss to your lips before slipping you off the counter and into his arms, carrying you bridal style.

he walked you upstairs to his hotel room, kicking the door open then kicking it closed behind him.

“sweet girl couldn’t handle being quiet, felt too fucking good didn’t it?”

he set you down, forcing you to stand, sitting himself on the bed. he unintentionally manspread, holding himself up on his elbows. “come on sugar. strip for me.”

his words only encouraged you, smiling as you took off your shirt in a teasingly slow manner, leaving you in your lace bra and skimpy pajama shorts.

he bit his lip, eyeing you up and down. normally you’d feel intimidated, but you’d been waiting for this moment for weeks. there was no time to be intimidated by him.

you smiled as you slowly slid your shorts down your legs, revealing the matching panties, causing his head to fall back.

“a matching set? you planned this, didn’t you?”

all the dots connected in his head and he couldn’t help but moan at the thought of you planning to seduce him, and the fact you wanted him that bad to make a whole plan.

he brought his hand up, using his two fingers to signal you closer. without a word you stepped closer to him.

you straddled his body, leg wrapping around his waist, before you move his elbows and push him back onto the bed.

he moaned as you did so, looking up at you with wide eyes. “oh? is that how we’re feeling, sugar?” his words only made your confidence grow, palms resting on each of his pecks.

you tilted your head slightly, bringing one hand down to his pants, slowly palming the sensitive area you were sitting on.

“yeah, don’t act like it doesn’t turn you on, either. i feel you through your pants. your little friend here’s practically screaming for me to touch him.”

your hand palms him, slowly gaining speed as logan feels his breath hitch, heart skipping a beat. the friction of your hand manipulating his clothed dick only made him harder, head falling back onto the bed, as his back arched like a slut.

the material of his pajama pants stimulating his cock in all the right places.

at this point your cunt was sticky, logan could almost feel it through the two articles of clothing, forgetting the fact yours was extremely thin.

“feels good, doesn’t it? you were already so fucking hard, lo. does it turn you on that i’m so much younger than you? that this is forbidden?” your words only make his hips buck into your hand, mouth falling open.

you smiled grew, biting your lip as you watched his desperate. “god, it does, doesn’t it? you gonna let me ride you?”

logan moaned and nod his head, “if i’m not inside you within the next ten seconds i’m flipping you over and fucking you myself.” his words made you moan, losing your dominance, feeling the sudden need for him to demolish you.

“really, you don’t want me to sit on your face?” logan’s mouth watered at your words, quickly changing his mind.

he moaned, “wait, fuck yes. give it to me. come here and sit on my fucking face.”

you stood off him, slowly taking off your panties, then bracing yourself and climbing back on top of him, slowly making your way up to his face. you smiled, seeing logan’s desperate expression, as if he needed your pussy in order to live. he yearned for you, and it made you wetter at the sight.

you slowly hovered over his face, lowering onto his mouth, moaning as soon as his nose rubbed against your clit.

his tongue immediately went to your hole, tongue fucking you. you couldn’t help but squirm, moaning again as you felt his arms wrap around your thighs, holding you onto his face.

logan is loving the desperate way you try to bite your lip to keep yourself from being too loud, as if anyone was up at this hour.

"eating me so fucking good," you moan out, feeling as logan moans against your cunt, your words were like fuel to him, and he found himself bucking his hips at nothing because of how beautiful and desperate you sounded.

you adored how eager he was for you, causing you to scream as he moved his tongue quicker, eventually moving his entire face after noticing your liking for his nose on your clit.

he was getting so into it, being so messy, pussy clenching around his tongue, but he slowly removed his arms from your legs, lifting you off his face, then down to his abs, uninstall sitting your clit onto his hard abs, causing you both to moan.

“fuck, need you to cum on my dick, you can cum on my face later. i need you now. need you to ride me so good.”

logan moaned out as you quickly moved down, pulling down his pants and boxers, and with no warning, quickly sinking onto his dick.

logan moaned out slightly louder than you, making your smile grow.

you slowly took your hair out from the ponytail it was in, letting it fall down. logan looked up at you in awe, watching as you started to ride his cock.

“i’ve imagined this so many times, and god, nothing is better than it actually happened. you’re so fucking beautiful.”

you smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, cupping his cheek before placing your hands to his v-line, using his hot body to brace yourself as you rode his thick cock.

as you began to bounce, logan was a moaning mess. he started fucking up into you, “come on sugar, ride it.”

his words of encouragement made your moans become louder. he smiled up at you, his hands now holding your hips, holding you in place as he fucked up into you.

“that’s it, baby. take it, take my fucking cock. so fucking tight around me.” he eyes moved from your glowing body, down to your pussy, practically sucking his dick in.

“look at you, sucking me in so good, like she was made for me. fuck.” he looked at your stomach, practically seeing a bulge move in and out of you.

“can see me in your tummy, fuck,” he points out, and you look down and moan. you smiled at him, watching his glistening body, as sweat droplets formed on his forehead.

“god that’s so hot, you’re so fucking big. told you i needed an older guy to take care of me.”

his name tumbles from your lips, he sees you in your desperate state. the two of you both feel your climaxes reaching closer, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer if he kept talking to you like that.

“good fucking girl.” his voice was so low and raspy, you couldn’t help but moan.

logan enjoyed the fact he had tony stark’s daughter currently bouncing on his cock, begging for more. it was forbidden, and the thought alone almost made him cum.

“you keep talking to me like that i’m gonna cum,” your voice is desperate and needy, and that turns him on to the max, slowly feeling himself reach the edge. he grunts, jaw clenching, feeling himself go almost animalistic, he grunts through his teeth.

“come on sugar. that’s it. cum on my fucking cock. riding me so fucking good i’m gonna cum myself. want you to moan so loud tony hears you from the floor below and knows his arch nemesis is fucking his daughter. wanna see my cum spill out of this sweet little pussy of yours.”

his words carry you over the edge, as he continues to talk you through it. “that’s it, bub, i’m so fucking close. this pretty little pussy is sucking me in so good, yeah i feel you clenching. dick so good it has you trembling, huh, sugar?” you cum on his cock, legs shaking as you stop bouncing, but logan grabs your hips and drills into you, chasing his own climax.

you feeling extremely overstimulated, you couldn’t control your whimpers and whines and how loud you were. logan finally came with you, mouth falling open as he grunted, moaned, and even almost whimpered.

your eyes scrunch shut, when you finally are able to open them you see logan under you, body glistening in sweat, his eyes closed shut and his head pushed back into the pillows, holding your hips so tight, like if he lets you go you’ll leave.

you smile as you come down from your high, logan quickly following you, his smile growing as his eyes meet yours again.

“that what you meant when you said take care of you?” his cocky words make you smack his bare chest, slowly pulling off him, your cum and his cum slowly spilling out of you, getting both of your attention.

“fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” logan mumbled under his breath.

you almost moaned again, feeling empty as you pull his cock out of your pussy, the cum dripping onto his v-line and abs, making your smile grow.

“yes, this is what i meant. fucked me so good.” you giggled, going to get up but logan flipped you over gently and pushed you down onto the bed.

“lay here, sugar. i’ll clean you up.”

logan grabs a damp, warm rag from the bathroom of his hotel room, bringing it to you and wiping up the cum, once you’re fully clean he tosses it into the hamper across the room. he goes to his bag, grabbing one of his shirts and walking over to you.

he smiles and carefully brings it over your head, finding your tired state adorable.

once you have the shirt on, you lay down in the bed, pulling the covers over you sleepily, as he puts his pajama pants back on, climbing back into bed next to you.

…

the next morning, logan isn’t in bed with you, you check the time and it’s about 10am. your mission didn’t start for another few hours, so you decided to go downstairs and get yourself some of the hotel breakfast.

you slipped on some sleep shorts and slowly walked out of your room, down the stairs and into the kitchen where breakfast was being served.

you walked over to the counter, putting waffle batter into the waffle maker and turning around, trying to find your dad within the many avengers and x-men sat around the mini tables, but when you saw almost everyone staring at you, some with their mouths slightly open, you became confused.

you turned to see your dad, tony, sat at a table with steve, thor and bruce.

tony almost gasped as you turned around and continued making your waffle, not caring how loud he was.

“why the fuck does the last name on the back of you shirt say howlett.” as soon as your dad reveals that information, you avoid turning back around to face him.

logan smiles from his seat, watching as tony slowly turns to look at him at the table near him.

tony’s eye twitches as he looks over at logan. logan unfortunately cant hide his amused expression, almost giggling at the situation, watching as wade walks into the room, also noticing the back of your shirt.

wade jumps up and down, clapping his hands together. “is that logan’s shirt! omg, they finally fucked!”

bruce and thor can’t help but giggle to each other, as steve holds in his laugh.

tony eyes shoot from wade to logan, practically shaking from how mad he was. it was something logan wanted to take a picture of and remember forever.

“you stuck your dick in my fucking daughter!?” tony’s loud, obviously unhappy voice made you slowly turn around, you and logan making eye contact trying not to break into laughter.

“am i the only one furious at this? why the fuck are you all fucking laughing!?” tony shouts, standing up, almost spilling his coffee all over the table.

…

a/n: don’t forget to comment and tell me your thoughts ;)

[please-destroy]

A Place To Be

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

.

You’d been training for this your whole life. 

It had taken effort, determination and skill to become one of the best Shield agents. It was a long journey but you were starting to be proud of the person you’d become. 

You hadn’t ever thought about one day becoming an Avenger, it didn’t seem like something that could be possible. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing when you were called to Fury’s office. Your mouth hung open as he explained that the request to join had come from a member of the team itself. 

Fury had gone on to outline your new training regime and the changes that this promotion would involve. Every detail, from moving to the Avengers Tower to training with Captain America felt like a dream.

You lay that night, your final night in the Shield Residential Quarters, and stared up at the familiar grey ceiling. It was hard to sleep, the events of the day had already felt like a perfect dream. You thought about the request to join. You felt confident it must have been Clint Barton. 

You’d trained in the presence of both Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton before and you’d naturally excelled at target practice, especially from long distances. It seemed like the sort of thing he’d notice.

.

Moving into the Avengers Tower was daunting. Carrying a rucksack with your most prized possession, you gazed around at the bright modern interiors. 

You’d disembarked from a Quinjet on the roof, before being directed through the building by the AI system. Standing there in a communal living room, expecting  your arrival were the other Avengers. 

You were surprised by the openness of the team to a new recruit. Each person greeted you with real warmth when they met you for the first time.

Natasha’s enthusiasm was the most muted. From the beginning, you noticed a carefulness whenever she addressed you. She gave you a small wave in greeting, instead of the hug or handshake offered by the others. She held back quietly as the team asked you questions and welcomed you to the building. 

You worried self consciously that she could tell just how excited you were to meet her properly. It was impossible to work at a place like Shield without admiring or envying the legend of the Black Widow from afar. Even small details from her missions spread like wildfire around that organisation. You’d heard every impressive rumour about Natasha Romanoff. 

Your paths had barely crossed during her time at Shield, but Natasha had always been unforgettable. 

You remembered the first time she’d smiled at you. It was during one of the target practice sessions that you’d excelled at. Clint had whooped loudly when you’d made an unlikely shot. The loud celebratory noise should have been what you remembered most from that session. But instead, it was Natasha’s pleased smile, arms crossed from where she stood quietly by the door. 

She’d looked beautiful. It had struck you then, and it still struck you now. 

Secretly, more than any other worry you had about Natasha’s quiet behaviour. You were afraid that maybe, despite your best efforts, she could tell you had a crush.

.

Your first in-the-field mission as part of the Avengers was an opportunity to shadow Natasha through an intel gathering assignment. 

You obediently hurried to the briefing room, following an announcement from the building’s AI that an Avengers meeting had been called. You sat in the chair next to Tony, and did your best to focus as the mission was outlined. 

You tried not to look too pleased as the realisation dawned on you that it was a mission for you to join. You were keen for an opportunity to prove yourself as part of the team.

.

Natasha approached you as soon as the meeting was done. You gave her a small smile.

‘I thought wearing necklaces was against Shield protocol.’ Natasha told you bluntly. The smile dropped from your face.

‘Yes. But this is the Avengers. (Y/N)’s playing in the big leagues now.’ Tony reminded her, brushing past the pair of you to exit the room.

‘I’ll keep it tucked under my clothes.’ You tried to assure her, hand reaching automatically to touch the silver charm around your neck. Natasha’s eyes were drawn to the movement. Your throat tightened at her attention.

‘It was from someone who cares about me.’ You added quietly, unable to help being a little defensive.

Natasha’s eyes glanced briefly back to your face. She looked thoughtful.

‘Lucky you.’ She murmured after a moment. You stood dumbly, watching her leave and feeling entirely off balance from the encounter.

.

Your first mission as an Avenger was a shitshow right from the start. 

Unexpected threats, incorrect mission information and a thunderstorm. 

You felt out of your depth from the very beginning. Soon enough, the fatigue of relentless combat began to wear you down even further. 

Natasha led you through the mission with ruthless efficiency. She undoubtedly kept you alive that day. She calmly refused offers of back-up over the comms. Her assuredness was almost undermined by the bullets ripping through the air above your heads. 

She was the best fighter you’d ever seen up close. She moved with a fluidity that reminded you of dance choreography. She never seemed to hesitate, moving from one action into the next. 

You did exactly what you were told; you trusted her instincts more than you trusted yourself.

.

The only time you felt at all useful was at the end of the mission, when you drove the car back to the pick up point.

Natasha had successfully retrieved the information but at the cost of a knife wound to the thigh.

She was dressing the wound herself, using the first aid kit found in the car’s glove compartment. You watched her carefully from the corner of your eye. Despite your worry about her injury and your own poor performance during the mission; you took a moment to marvel at how impressive Natasha had been to watch. She made being brave look easy.

It was only when Natasha’s leg seemed completely bandaged that you felt confident enough to talk. You reminded her quietly about the painkillers that she hadn’t yet touched.

Natasha refused, waving her red-stained hand back at you tiredly. You pressed your lips together, trying to think of a way to change her mind. You fiddled with your necklace absentmindedly, one hand on the wheel. 

‘You need them more.’  Natasha told you, glancing obviously at your own swollen wrist. 

You felt sudden unexpected heat burn your cheeks. Your wrist injury had come from an embarrassing trip and fall. Natasha’s leg wound had come from highly skilled hand to hand combat. Embarrassment flooded you as you realised how incompetent you must seem to her.

You took the painkillers silently and didn’t speak for the rest of the drive. 

.

For the rest of the day following that mission, you were dreading hearing Natasha’s report about your performance. It kept you up that night, like the stress of an upcoming exam result. You knew it couldn’t be good. Natasha clearly thought that you couldn’t even handle a swollen wrist.

You couldn’t have been more surprised when Steve’s hand rested kindly on your shoulder the next afternoon.

‘Sounds like you survived quite the mission.’ He told you simply. ‘Nat said you coped really well, all things considered. Just need a bit more practice with heavy fire scenarios.’

You only nodded in response, startled by the feedback. You wondered if that was what Natasha had really told him. You felt a growing certainty in the pit of your stomach that Steve had censored her report to be kind. 

You imagined Natasha asking Clint why he’d wanted you to join the team. You couldn’t get the image out of your head. It felt too plausible.

.

The next time you saw Natasha was in the communal kitchen area. She hesitated when she looked at you. You felt embarrassed when she glanced down at your now bandaged wrist. The silence between you lengthened uncomfortably. 

After that, you were purposefully quieter around Natasha, a weird kind of shame filling you whenever you caught her eye.

Natasha reflected your energy perfectly back. You often made elevator journeys together in that tense silence that always seemed to linger between you. You’d start to play with your necklace awkwardly and Natasha’s eyes would follow the movement.

Then, you’d think back to her chastisement about wearing it before that first mission and embarrassment would flood you again. 

.

Soon enough, life at the Avengers Tower began to settle into something like routine. The living quarters and regular team practice were effective in helping you get to know your teammates. You began to consider the other Avengers as some of your closest friends. 

As winter approached, you started to take on occasional planned missions with different individual members of the team. You didn’t get assigned again to Natasha. You tried not to think about why.

Though Natasha never avoided you, her carefully neutral tone told you that the awkwardness of your first mission together had not been overcome. 

.

The others definitely noticed the tension between the pair of you. It stood out against your comfortable dynamics of the rest of the group.

Soon, you started to notice their schemes to get the pair of you closer. 

Tony kept trying to encourage Natasha to give you flying lessons in the Quinjet. Every week Steve suggested that you partner up together for some additional training exercise. 

You never said no and neither did she. You never followed up on the suggested plans either. You let them float away, schedules becoming full at the last minute.

.

By the time December rolled around, you’d barely shared a handful of sentences with Natasha and every single one of them had been work-related.

So, when Tony held out an upturned Iron Man helmet filled with folded pieces of paper and told you to pick out your Secret Santa name, there was only one Avenger that you didn’t want to get.

‘This says Natasha.’ You eyed the paper suspiciously, wondering if it was bad luck or another sneaky scheme by the rest of the team to encourage the pair of you to make friends. ‘Do all the other papers say Natasha too?’

Tony snorted. ‘Please. If I was going to cheat at Secret Santa, then all the names in there would be mine.’ He snatched the helmet back before you could see for yourself and hurried away along the corridor.

You never got a definitive answer about the cheating. 

.

You did get a sympathetic pat on the shoulder from Bruce when you asked him quietly for gift ideas for Natasha. 

You were trying not to let the upcoming Secret Santa ruin the holidays for you. But the prospect of buying Natasha a present was beyond intimidating.

Bruce’s first story didn’t help you at all. He told you about the birthday party that the team had planned for Natasha the year before. Clint had loudly protested the idea from the start. He’d argued it was pointless, given that no-one even knew her correct birthday. 

Still, the plan had gone ahead with the surprise party scheduled for an upcoming Saturday. Tony had sourced several extravagant presents on behalf of the team. 

You perked up at this part of Bruce’s story, hoping to get some inspiration for Secret Santa. 

Bruce mentioned the full range of brand new Stark industries tech that had been procured as presents and your hope flattened out. He hadn’t been kidding about extravagant.

Natasha must have gotten wind of the team’s intentions. She disappeared without a trace on the Friday night before the party. She reappeared back in the Tower on the following Monday morning, as if she’d never left.

Within an hour of her return, all the expensive waiting wrapped presents with her name on them had disappeared from the Tower. 

Tony still made occasional comments about it under his breath, but no one had ever addressed it directly with her. When Natasha didn’t want to talk about something, it was hard to bring it up.

Your nervousness shifted now into a feeling of dread. You felt frustrated at the practical stranger that you’d only ever wanted to like you. You were certain now that Natasha was going to hate whatever you bought her.

.

After the ominous story from Bruce, you spent the next few evenings alone in your room, scrolling endlessly through online lists for gift ideas. 

It was during one of these evenings that Natasha burst into your room unexpectedly.

Her eyes scanned the space, finding you instantly. She didn’t move closer.

‘I have you for Secret Santa.’ Natasha informed you tensely. You fought the annoyance that bubbled up inside you at her stressed tone. You weren’t hard to buy presents for, especially not compared to her.

‘Right.’ You replied, trying to keep your own tone calm.

‘What do you want?’ Natasha asked directly, her eyes focusing intensely on yours. You stared back at her, unable to believe what she’d just asked. You felt like another mission she’d been assigned to.

Something in you snapped, like a release of tension from every silent elevator ride you’d ever shared with her.

‘Just get me whatever you’d like me to have, Natasha.’ You replied harshly. ‘That’s exactly what I want.’

Natasha’s eyes narrowed slightly. You watched her try to assess your tone and your words. You didn’t like the feeling of it.

You looked away, staring back at the laptop screen and trying to blink away the embarrassing tears of frustration. 

Natasha left then. You shut your laptop and covered your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. You hated that she saw you as such an inconvenience.

Now, you were certain you’d be getting an information pamphlet on Not Being Such A Little Bitch for Christmas.

In the end, you asked Clint for help. He gave you exactly one suggestion and you took it tiredly. A bottle of vodka was about as impersonal as Natasha felt to you these days anyway.

.

The team did the gift exchange on the 23rd of December, before those with holiday plans needed to leave. You certainly didn’t have any plans to head away for. You’d already moved away to work for Shield, and then again for this job. No one you knew even lived on this side of the country. 

You didn’t mind too much, in fact you were beginning to look forward to it. Eating a takeout meal in the Avengers Tower seemed like a novel enough way to spend the holiday.

The present exchange had a warm atmosphere from the start. The tacky plastic Christmas tree that Clint had obviously found in a dollar store seemed more cheerful than the professionally decorated one that lived in the main lobby. 

Your eyes kept flickering over to Natasha as she played with the fake pine needles absentmindedly. Her hair was tied back, not in its typical braid, but in a loose ponytail. It flicked over her shoulder every time she glanced between the little tree and the rest of the team. 

She’d dressed casually for the event, wearing black jeans, a black top and an oversized red hoodie. Her small smile was soft and her shoulders seemed relaxed. It was the first time you’d ever seen her look so unguarded.

You and Natasha were the last to exchange your presents. What you already knew became clear to the team. You’d both gotten each other in the Secret Santa draw. You swapped the gifts carefully. 

‘You first.’ Natasha nodded, something surprisingly tentative in her expression.

Natasha’s gift was small. Not wrapped, it sat in a plain gift bag. There was a small box and a white piece of card. You read the card first. 

‘I knew you’d make a great Avenger. 

Thanks for proving me right. 

Natasha.’

The words were simple, her signature looped itself prettily across the bottom of the card.

Your heart dropped in surprise. Your eyes found Natasha’s and a hot rush of emotion rose up inside you. Natasha gave you her small smile, it looked almost shy. 

She’d had faith in you from the start. She’d been the one to request your transfer into the team. You hadn’t even thought she’d remembered you at Shield. The smile she’d once given you in the training room flashed through your mind.

The heat rushed to your cheeks. You realised how much of her personality had gotten lost in translation. You remembered her offering you painkillers when you were hurt. You’d heard criticism in her kindness. You hadn’t been fair at all.

She nodded once at the box in your lap and you remembered the gift itself. You opened the box hesitantly, aware of the others’ curious stares.

Inside the box was a necklace. Your breathing shallowed out as you processed it. The charm was the same red hourglass that was the insignia of the Black Widow. 

You wiped the unexpected tears from your face. You caught Natasha’s look of anticipation and tried to smile back. Your ‘Thank You’ got lodged in your throat.

Natasha’s smile widened a little. She moved now to open your present. 

The change inside of you was abrupt. Suddenly, the world moved in awful slow motion. You felt hot shame build up inside your throat. 

You watched her pull the bottle out of the badly wrapped packaging. You watched her swallow as she realised what it was. Disappointment flickered briefly over her face before her expression shuttered itself into a neutral one.

You could tell she was aware of the onlookers. Natasha laughed once, dryly.

‘Thanks.’ She said to you, eyes still on the bottle. Her voice rasped. ‘I do like vodka.’

Now, an awkward apology got caught in your throat. Your hand wrapped itself tightly around the velvet necklace box. The room was quiet, you watched Natasha’s shoulders subtly tense.

‘Tony, maybe it’s time to order the takeout.’ Bruce suggested suddenly. All at once, the room around you became busy again. 

Natasha excused herself immediately to put her gift in her room. Her smile seemed honest, but you caught the emptiness behind her eyes when she turned away. 

Your gaze trailed after her until Tony blocked your view abruptly, asking if you wanted any wontons.

.

The urgent call for the Avengers to assemble came before the takeout had even been ordered. 

You were the only one left behind. There was no time to even debate you joining them; the team had left the Tower immediately. The emergency was upstate and two civilians had already been killed. There wasn’t even time to include you on the comms.

You spent the rest of the day waiting worriedly. You watched the news just to have a way to feel connected. 

You kept hold of the jewellery box, your thumb rubbing worried circles against the velvet.

The All Clear update only came through in the evening. You finally called in the takeout order, knowing the whole team would be starving upon their arrival. 

Everyone, except for Clint and Natasha, entered together. Your eyes scanned the elevator worriedly as it opened up on the floor.

‘Clint had to head straight to his folks for Christmas.’ Steve told you quickly, noticing your obvious concern. ‘I guess Natasha went with him.’

Disappointment flooded you. Clint wasn’t due back for a full week. You wondered if Natasha would be away for that long too.

You ate in silence, brooding over your missed chance to even thank her properly. You owed Natasha more than one apology. 

Your phone buzzed in your pocket midway through the meal.

You slid it out to see a text from Clint.

‘Gone straight home for Christmas with family. Can you check Tasha got back safe?’

You read the text over again unnecessarily. You slipped the phone back into your pocket and quietly excused yourself from the group.

.

You headed straight to Natasha’s rooms in the Tower, two floors down in the elevator. You tried hesitantly to enter, expecting the door to be locked. But, the handle turned.

Natasha was sitting on the wide windowsill. Her eyes were rimmed red and she was staring out at the skyline of New York. You saw the bottle of vodka balanced between her legs, already half drunk. You felt sick.

She turned at the sound of you. Her long hair hung loose, framing her face. Her smile was too sad to seem genuine. 

The room felt too quiet.

‘I’m sorry.’ You told her immediately, rushing out the words that you’d been wanting to say all day.

‘For what?’ She asked softly. You couldn’t tell from her head tilt if the question was genuine.

‘I should have.’ You began to answer anyway, gesturing over at the vodka bottle. ‘I should have.’ You hesitated, trying to find the right words.

‘That was the best Christmas present I’ve ever had.’ Natasha told you suddenly. 

Disbelief clouded your mind for a moment. You paused in confusion.

‘It’s the only Christmas present I’ve ever had.’ Natasha added quietly, the side of her head resting against the pane of glass.

‘I thought you didn’t like presents.’ You admitted after a moment. Natasha’s eyebrow raised and you could feel her surprise at your words. 

‘Bruce told me about your almost birthday party.’ 

Natasha laughed once then. The laugh was genuine but the tone of it made you feel sick.

‘My mother abandoned me in the street. Why do I need a present for that?’ The hurt in the words stung sharply.

Natasha shut her mouth quickly then and you could tell that she was fighting not to cry. You watched her jaw tense. A tear rolled down her cheek and she rubbed it away. 

Your heart ached sharply. You wondered if anyone really knew Natasha. If everyone made assumptions, like you. 

You walked across the room. You noticed how harshly her hand had touched her cheek, seeing the reddened mark from the contact. 

You noticed her shoulders stiffen slightly at your proximity.

‘I think you’re exceptional.’ You told her softly, sitting along the same windowsill and facing her.

Natasha snorted, her eyes drifted between the view of New York and you.

‘That’s because I can kick your ass.’ She said lightly. You watched her try to crack a smile to relieve the tension. 

You stretched your leg out slowly and nudged hers with it. Natasha’s eyes met yours immediately in response, the half smile frozen on her lips.

‘No.’ You said firmly. ‘It’s because you are so kind.’

Natasha blinked at you in surprise. A frown pulled at the edge of her mouth, her disagreement was immediate.

‘You don’t know that.’ She muttered harshly. ‘I’ve done terrible things.’

Her thumb traced the glass rim of the open vodka bottle as she looked down at it.

‘Where did those birthday presents go then?’ You asked, already having guessed the answer.

Natasha rolled her eyes.

‘Those were ridiculous. Too expensive. Tony went beyond overboard.’ She told you, focusing completely on the vodka bottle now.

‘Someone always needs them more’ You murmured, echoing the words she’d once told you when you’d offered her painkillers. 

Natasha’s look was appraising as it focused back on you. Her eyes widened slightly and you wondered if it was at the accuracy of your memory or your guess.

Her mouth relaxed almost imperceptibly.

‘Not to mention this.’ You continued quietly, opening the small velvet box that you’d been carrying around all day. Your fingers trailed along the necklace chain.

‘I just figured you liked jewellery.’ Natasha muttered and her eyes glanced over to the necklace that you were wearing.

‘It’s perfect.’ You told her as you undid the clasp of the necklace around your neck, removing it and placing it on the window ledge between you. 

Slowly, you took the new necklace out of its box and began to loop it around your neck.

‘You don’t have to do that.’ Natasha told you, looking exhausted and embarrassed all at once. She watched you warily.

You ignored her, finally managing to hook the clasp together. 

Then, you moved to stand behind her.

‘Lift your hair.’ You told her softly. 

Natasha looked up at you, obviously confused. You picked up your old necklace from the window ledge.

‘No.’ She refused as the realisation hit her. 

You stayed steady in your resolve, waiting quietly. 

Natasha’s green eyes studied you, she looked uncertain. After a long moment, she lifted her hair up. 

You looped the necklace around her neck and fastened it carefully. Your fingers brushed her skin and you felt her shiver slightly.

Once you were done, you rested your hand tentatively on her shoulder. Natasha was only wearing her black top now and you could feel the warmth of her through the fabric. 

‘Happy Christmas, from someone who cares about you.’ You told her simply. 

You wished desperately that you had written it on a card like she had. You felt exposed as your words hung for a moment in the air between you. 

Then, Natasha’s hand moved silently to cover your own, holding it still against her shoulder. Your breath caught.

‘You want some?’ Natasha said after a moment, her knee nudging the vodka bottle.

.

That year was the first time you didn’t have any place to be for Christmas. 

So, you found one with Natasha.

[simplyholl]

Reckless

Summary: When you act recklessly on a mission, Bucky gets mad at you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ ONLY. Minors DNI.

See My Masterlist Here

You had really done it now. You made Bucky so mad, he couldn’t even look at you. You were paired together for a mission, and you acted recklessly. You got separated from him and instead of waiting for him, you found the Hydra bunker where they were hiding.

You burst in without a plan and they would have most likely killed you. But Bucky came in and saved you. On the way back, he wouldn’t look at you, speak to you, or even acknowledge your existence.

It took a lot for him to get angry. So you didn’t know how you could fix this. You were such good friends, and he always made time for you. It was going on three days and he ignored every text, call, FaceTime, and knock on his door. You didn’t even know why he was so upset with you. You had done stupid stuff during missions before.

Finally you had enough of the silent treatment, so you waited until it was his normal time to train. He liked to work alone, so you didn’t have to worry about anyone else being there and interrupting you. You made your way to the gym, disappointed that he wasn’t there, nobody was.

You were just about to leave and come up with another plan when you heard someone in the men’s locker room. You hoped it was Bucky as you entered, the smell of soap filled the steamy room. Your sneakers squeaked with every step on the wet tile floor.

You heard Bucky singing some old fashioned song. Following his voice passed the lockers, you step over Thor’s discarded shorts. You shake your head, feeling sorry for the cleaners Tony hired. You see Bucky’s head peaking over the shower door. For a split second, you debate turning around. But you want your friend back more than anything, so you continue all the way to the showers.

“James, we need to talk.” Bucky jumps at the sound of your voice. “What are you doing in here? This is the men’s locker room.” He rolls his eyes, turning towards the spray of water. “You wouldn’t talk to me, I didn’t know when I’d be able to catch you.” He doesn’t answer, instead he picks up the shampoo bottle squirting some into his palm.

“I’m sorry for what I did. I just want you to talk to me.” He reaches up to wash the shampoo out of his hair, eyes closed. “I know you can hear me. Bucky, please?” You beg him but he continues ignoring you. He could be a real asshole when he wanted to. You set your phone down on the bench beside you. You reach down to take off your shoes then your socks.

You grab the handle to the shower door, letting yourself inside. Bucky’s eyes widen as he sees you in the shower with him. He makes an awkward attempt to cover his self. “Get out of here!” You walk over to him, “No! This is the only way to get you to pay attention to me!” You walk closer, “Tell me why you’re so mad at me.”

Bucky watches as the water sprays you, making your already tight workout clothes cling to your body. His throat bobs as he finally answers. “I’m not mad, I’m furious. You weren’t thinking. You never do. You went by yourself when you were told to wait, and if I hadn’t been close by, you would be dead.”

“I do stuff like that all the time, Buck. Why did it make you so upset?” Bucky takes a step toward you, removing his hands from his hardening cock. “Because I care about you! If you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week after that stunt you pulled.”

That was just the answer to send all your worries about crossing boundaries out the window. You press yourself against him, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. When his lips met yours, it was like you were the only people in the whole world.

His metal hand makes quick work of your sports bra, ripping it right off you. The warm palm of his flesh hand meets your breast. He groans against your neck as his hands travel lower. He jerks your leggings off in one swift motion, throwing them to the side with a wet thud.

You were never so thankful that you didn’t wear panties as you were today. He reaches between you, long fingers dipping into you. You were so wet just from arguing with him, and he knew it. “All this from fighting with me, doll?” He smirks, knowing the effect it will have on you. You clench around his fingers as he curls them upward, his palm gently brushing your clit. “James” you moan, grasping his shoulders for support.

He removes his fingers from you, turning you around so fast that you don’t have time to register how empty you feel now. Bucky presses his body to your back, trapping you between him and the shower door. The cool door makes your nipples harden against it. You feel Bucky’s hard cock rub against the curve of your ass. You try to move to create some type of friction between you, but you can’t. His big body doesn’t budge. He uses his leg to spread you further.

You gasp as he thrusts into you, not giving you any time to adjust to his size before he plunges deeper, bottoming out. You claw at the shower door, as his thrusts grow brutal. His metal arm wraps around your waist, holding you where he wants you while his flesh hand grabs your chin. He tilts your face to look at him, “Are you going to do anything that stupid ever again?” He asks, his cock brushing that spot inside of you that makes your vision go blurry.

You can’t form words, it feels too good. “I expect an answer when I ask you a question.” Your eyes are glossy, you try to answer but you only make sounds. “My pretty baby, she’s too cock drunk to talk. Is that it, doll? Is my cock too much?” You manage to whisper yes, sending his ego into overdrive.

“That’s right, nobody will ever make you feel like I do. I’ll never touch you again, if you don’t follow orders. Am I understood?” Visions of his old army days flood your mind, the band in your stomach threatening to snap. “Y-yes sir.” You stutter. He seems satisfied with your answer, holding you closer to him. His fingers dig into your hip, no doubt leaving bruises, marking you as his.

He snaps his hips one last time, burying his face into your shoulder as he comes inside you. He stays like that for a minute, catching his breath before turning you around. He checks all over your body, his forehead wrinkling as he notices the multiple marks he left behind. “Was I too rough? I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just so caught up in the moment-“

“It’s okay. I really liked it.” You confess. Bucky sighs in relief, bringing you back under the water, he starts to wash you. “Hey what about me?” Bucky smirks, “What about you?” He washes down your arms. “I didn’t get off.” You state matter of factly. “Oh, I know. Only good girls get to cum.”

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@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @crimson25 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @lokidokieokie @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @yeaiamme2 @pigeonmama @yeehawbrothers @lokischambermaid @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck

[waywardcrow]

Dress.

Summary: After a mission where they crossed a line, Bucky decides to talk about what happened that night with you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader.

WC: Almost 1600.

TW: Avengers kind of things, talk about weapons, sad reader and sad Bucky, misunderstendings, agents talking shit because of jealousy, SMUT (do not interact if you're not +18) some kissing, dancing and boners lol, semi public make out, oral (f recieving) fingering, hint of other things but not so much because I'm so bad a t this, sorry, let me know if I missed something.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

You hated everything that night, the happy people who were eager to get drunk and forget about the ending year, the music too loud that didn’t let you think, the beautiful dress you bought for that very occasion specifically because you wanted to impress a certain super soldier in the New Year's Eve party but that was before last mission, before you messed it all up.

If you closed your eyes, you could see everything playing perfectly in your mind, how unprofessional you were, how much space Bucky put between you two in the quinjet, the tension that followed you the last days and the words of the agents who probably knew about what happen from him. It was a disaster and you wouldn’t escape from it, Tony would never let you go without an explanation if you requested a transfer to another area.

Distracted, drinking your problems you didn’t noticed Bucky’s gaze tearing apart the pretty gold dress you were wearing as if he could feel your skin against his like that night.

It was a simple mission, find the target, watch it until Valkyrie and Wanda could secured the evidence –an arsenal of Asgardian weapons- and then arrested everyone but your cover was necessary and thanks to your powers, the ability to manipulate brain’s perception to make your audience see what you want- make you perfect to blend with him in that shady club pretending to be just a couple looking for a good time.

Easier to say than done, Bucky fought his boner all night with you dancing too close to him, whispering things in his ear, sitting in his lap… sure you could feel how much he wanted to fuck you there in front of everybody, he indulged in his little fantasy when he feel your own arousal, he told himself it was for the mission when he took you to a semi empty corridor to kiss you dumb.

You tasted better than he imagined, like honey and salvation, Bucky was sure that if he kept kissing you he would find heaven.

“Are you ok, terminator? You look like you’re about to have an aneurysm” Sam pulled him out of his mind just in time before he got in trouble righ there in the middle of the party.

“I’m fine” he wasn’t and Sam let out a chuckle.

“Just go and talk to her, you can’t keep avoiding each other forever.”

You were avoiding him, Bucky just gave you space after you walked away from him when the mission was over, like he didn’t almost cum from having you exactly where he wanted you, with your perfect legs around him with just a thin layer of clothes between you.

“I said I’m fine” he said again, not looking at Sam when you made your way to the elevators, going after you.

It was better for you to leave early, too many drinks and you could end up crying or doing something you’ll regret, like talking to Bucky, who jumped in the elevator you called before the doors closed.

“Going to bed already?” he asked and you stared at him like an idiot, how could he look that good all the damn time? A black suit and white shirt shouldn’t make someone that hot, it was cheating “are you alright, honey?”

How have you missed his voice! A simple taste of him and you wanted more, you wanted him to touch you like that night, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like if time was against you both and every second he wasn’t making you feel all of him was a sacrilege.

“Why are you here, Bucky?”

Cornered, you crossed your arms in front of your chest, drawing his attention to your breasts, the memory of his lips pulling softly at your nipple made you want to close your legs to get some sort of friction, trying to calm the need for him.

Like he could read your mind, he licked his lips, wanting to pull your dress and bury himself in your chest but Bucky needed to have a conversation with you first.

“Are you going to avoid me forever, hon?” the super soldier lifted your chin to make you see him when you set your eyes in your heels “I can take a rejection, sweetheart but not you shutting me out completely.”

Bucky had made lots of friends with time but you were his first one, he didn’t want to lose you; you, in the other hand, were more confused than ever.

“What rejection? If anything, you’re the one who is not interested!” boldness coming from the alcohol made you talk before thinking about stopping “and don’t give me that look James Buchanan Barnes, you know perfectly what I’m talking about.”

The elevators door opened and you stormed out, going to you room, the audacity of that man!

“Can you explain to me what are you talking about?” Bucky took your hand and made you face him when you reached your door, all his cocky attitude was replaced by confusion.

“Please don’t pretend you didn’t tell Carla and Ashley what happen that night, I heard them talking the morning after in the gym” Above all the embarrassment there was hurt, you thought he could be trusted but Bucky proved you were an idiot “they were talking how you hated being assigned with me and to pretend to make out with me.”

Bucky’s heart hammered in his chest, what the hell were you talking about? He didn’t say anything, at all but you looked so sure he couldn’t speak.

“You made it very clear putting distance between us in the ride home but you didn’t have to tell them” your voice trembled, still you refused to cry, if that was the kind of man Bucky was, he didn’t deserve your tears.

“I swear I didn’t say anything, honey, I swear” he promised, making himself small to look at your eyes “I don’t know how they know, please believe me.”

You shake your head; you wanted to believe him but…

“I told no one, I really thought you were mad at me for taking advantage of the situation, that I misread it” he mumbled, desperate to prove you he was telling the truth, taking your face in his hands “I should have been more professional, more of a gentleman, ask you properly on a date, not acting like that, no matter how much I wanted it. That’s why I put space between us; Wanda and Val were looking at me like they would spray me with cold water if I breathed near you.”

Bucky wished you could read his mind to see he was honest but you still could, sensing his desperation matching yours.

“Do you really mean that?”

His heart broke at how unsure you sounded, he would spend every day of his life proving to you how much he meant it.

“I do, honey, you’re not only a friend to me, why do you think I requested to be with you in that mission?” with his arms around your waist, you put your hands in his chest to feel his heartbeat “I can’t be apart from you, I needed you close while I was gathering courage to confess my feelings but then I couldn’t hide it and…”

You interrupted him to kiss him, not giving a damn about anything but Bucky’s lips in yours. He opened the door and you took him with you to your room, tossing his jacket to the floor and taking your heels off.

“You should keep them on” he said between kisses, guiding you to your bed.

“Maybe next time” you promised, opening his dress shirt, he gave you a smirk while he took it off, like he couldn’t wait.

“This dress has to go, even if I love it.”

“I only bought it for you to take it off” you confessed, mesmerized by his hands undressing you before he placed you softly in your bed, earning a grin from him.

“Really? Well, you deserve a reward for thinking about me, honey”

Before you could ask, he was with his knees on the floor, ripping your panties to eat you out like he needed it to keep breathing.

It barely gave you time to let out a lewd moan that only encourage him more, putting your legs in his broad shoulders, nipping at your sensitive bud and teasing your entrance with his fingers.

It was real? It was the alcohol? You could think so if it wasn’t very improbable, your imagination couldn’t make this up, not something this good at least.

“Please” you begged and he shove one finger in you, then almost immediately another while licking you and going back to your clit, moaning at the taste of you, humping the mattress to get some relief, especially when you pulled at his short locks, making him groan.

“Bucky! Pleaseplease…” were the only words you could form but then he decided to replace his fingers with his tongue and you were gone, the orgasm hit you like a thousand waves and you could swear you fainted for a second, only coming back to yourself when you tasted your own arousal in his kiss.

Surprised to being this responsive with him, you kissed him back and he looked at you, fire blazing in his eyes.

“Come back to me, honey, we are just getting started” he promised against your lips and dear God, he was a man of his word. Hors later, the fireworks were loud enough outside but you both couldn’t care less, you finally have what you wanted: each other.

So this is my first time writing smut and I wanted to do it for New year's Eve, it was fun! Tell me what you think and happy new year!

Love, Lily.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

I really liked your sister!reader series with Natasha 🙂👍

If you are taking requests , csn I request f!reader(batman) X Natasha , where Natasha is the one pinning after reader who is distant (Bruce Wayne vibes, not as extroverted as Tony). Natasha and reader are exes, she comes to reader for help maybe with Yelena after the Red room was destroyed maybe ? Feel free to ignore /delete if it's bad .

North Star

Warnings: mention of death (reader's parents), torture, kidnapping, angst with a happy ending, post Black Widow movie but before Infinity War, injuries, blood, reader is enhanced

Word Count: 6.6K

Note: I would like to Apologize for how long this took me to fulfil. This one shot has been almost done for MONTHS. Ugh. Hope you enjoy!

You were surprised she still had it. You gave it to her to use whenever she needed help. It was insurance to know that she would always be safe. However, it had been a long time since it had gone off. You last heard from her a year ago when she disappeared. You were sitting at your desk when you felt your drawer buzz. A part of you thought about ignoring it. To show her the same level of care she gave you, but you made a promise and weren’t one to break them. Whenever she would call, you would answer. Opening up the drawer, you pulled out a pager. It may have said a lot that she kept it. The same could be said about you. You looked at the location. She was close by. There was something about her that always seemed to call you in, a spell that called you to her web.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Sitting in the dark isn’t how to greet a friend.” You heard the smirk in her voice.

“I wouldn’t call us that,” you turned on the lamp next to the couch. The small apartment illuminated, and you stared at your ex. Natasha Romanoff. Avenger. Black Widow. She was no longer a redhead but a blonde cut into a bob. You crossed one leg over the other and held out the pager. “I’m surprised you still have it,”

“I never got rid of it,” you noticed the necklace around her neck and the charm you gave her- a star. It was Polaris, the North Star. You gave it to her on your first anniversary.

“What do you want?” you asked, ignoring her statement. She pointed to the empty spot next to you. You nodded, and she sat down, playing with the necklace.

“I need your help.” That wasn’t a surprise.

“Why don’t you ask the Avengers for help?” You asked. She glared at you. You knew why she couldn’t ask for their help; it was all over the news. The Avengers were disbanded after a very public fight in Germany. But you wanted her to say it.

“I can’t go to them. You are the only one I can turn to for help.” You leaned back on the couch. She placed her hand on your thigh. You grabbed her by her wrist and took her hand off of you. You hated the way your body warmed up a simple touch. She lost the privilege to touch you like that, to see you at your most vulnerable.

“Tell me what you need.”

“My sister hasn’t checked in for 12 hours, and I don’t have the right resources to find her myself.” She explained. You frowned. Once upon a time, she told you about a sister she had in Ohio.

“Is this about what I saw on the news?” You asked. You saw a report that Natasha evaded capture from Ross. The field she escaped from looked like a battlefield. She smirked.

“Are you keeping tabs on me?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “It’s part of my job to keep tabs on the news.” You sighed. “Where was the last time you heard from her?”

“She checked in at her safe house in Belize.” Good. You had a home there. Your parents would visit the country several times yearly to conduct business. It made sense for them to buy a house. You hadn’t been there since their death.

“We should head over there now,” you said, standing up. “The longer we wait, the harder it will be to find her.”

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” You didn’t respond, so you walked out of the apartment. You knew she was following her without looking behind her.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were leaning against the table, looking over the information on the Widow Yelena was tracking. The jet was on autopilot, so worrying about that was unnecessary. The quietness was interrupted by her footsteps walking over to you. She stood shoulder to shoulder next to you, and her arm barely touched you. “This brings me back to when I’d find you hunched over your work table.” She placed her hand on your lower back. You shrugged it off. You walked over to the cockpit and sat down in the pilot seat. Once the jet was out of autopilot, you took control. You need to get your mind on something instead of the Russian.

2011

You were invited to a Stark party. Parties weren’t your scene, but as a part of New York Cities elites, there would be talk if you were absent. The one thing you hated more than parties was gossip. So you stood at the bar sipping on a jack and coke. “Starfire!” You suppressed a sigh at the nickname from the billionaire. Tony Stark walked over to you with a redhead by his side.

“Stark,” you said, offering your hand to the man, but you were pulled into a hug. You patted his back. “How much have you had to drink?” You asked.

“Not nearly enough,” he ended the hug. “This one is keeping me in line.” He waved down the bartender. “This is my new assistant, Natalie Rushman.” Tony’s attention was on the bartender. She was stunning. Her red hair was curled at the end, and she wore a black cocktail dress.

“Y/n Ortega,” you introduced yourself. “Owner of Titanis Production.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” she said. It’s my job to know all of Mr. Stark’s associates.” She held out her hand for you to shake, but you took it and kissed it instead.

“Well, I hope Stark doesn’t tell you all my secrets.” She smiled.

“Don’t worry, kid,” Tony said, sipping his drink. “Your secrets are safe with me. Now excuse me, I have to make my rounds.”

“I’ll see you around Stark,” the billionaire walked away, but Natalia lingered next to you.

“I hope to see you again,” she smirked. You took a sip of your drink.

“I have a feeling you’ll know where to find me,” you had a strange feeling about her. She smiled and followed Tony. You watched for a beat before placing your glasses on. “AUROA, who is that?” You asked your AI system.

It took a moment for AUROA to find anything. Natalie Rushman modeled in 2004 and worked in Japan, Italy, and the United States in the early 2000s . She received her BA and MA in history from the University of Southern Carolina. The cherry on top was that she interned at Hammer Industries while studying at Harvard University. Everything felt perfect.

“AUROA, keep digging,” you sipped on your drink.

“I would have to hack into SHIELD,” the AI said. SHIELD? Why was the American governmental counter-terrorism agency interested in Stark? Besides the whole Iron Man thing.

“Do it,” you gave the order. As you waited and sipped on your drink, your eyes followed Tony and Natalia around the party.

“It appears that Natalia Rushman goes by many names,” you looked away from the duo as AUROA continued to explain. “Currently, she is going by Natasha Romanoff, and she is a Black Widow.”

“How dangerous?” You asked. It took a moment for the AI to respond.

“According to SHIELD, she is the most decorated assassin of the modern era. “You couldn’t help but look towards Natalia, and the SHIELD agent was already looking at you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Even at your status, you found parties boring. Sighing, you walked out to the balcony and felt a pressure release from your chest. Being underneath the stars always seemed to calm you down. You felt less trapped under the vast and never-ending sky. “Tired of the party already?” Natalie -no- Natasha said, walking over to you.

“Shouldn’t you be babysitting Tony?” You countered. The woman chuckled.

“It’s Pepper’s turn,” you hummed. That woman had more patience than God himself. “So, Y/n,” you liked the way your name fell from her lips, but you kept your face expressionless. “What secrets is Tony keeping for you?” She asked.

“I bet you know all of them,” you said, stepping forward and closing the space between you two. “Natasha,” you whispered her name as if it were a secret for you, her, and the stars above. She had an incredible poker face, but you weren’t surprised.

“I’m impressed, but for the Polaris, I expect no less.” You went by Polaris when you weren’t the CEO of your family’s company and tried to keep the city you lived in safe. You took a sip of your drink.

“What do you want with Stark?” You asked.

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that,” she smiled. “I do hope you enjoy your night,” she said. She walked back into the party, but you grabbed her arm and pulled her back to you. Her chest was flushed to yours, and you could feel her heart beating.

“Tony Stark is family,” you told her. “So if he’s in trouble. I’d like to know.”

“Why don’t you find out yourself? Use that big brain of yours.” You smiled, releasing your hold on her arm, but she stayed close. Her green eyes stared up at you.

“I’d like to hear it from you. Over a drink, maybe, not at this party,” A soft smile spread across Natasha’s face.

“Yeah?” She questioned. You gave her a short nod. “Let’s get out of here then.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Natasha picked the lock of Yelena’s safe room. She opened the door and stepped to the side so you could walk in. It was a simple studio apartment with a basic kitchen and a bed. The place was well kept, except for the bottle of vodka left on the counter. You walked over to the small closet and opened it. Her clothes were hung up, and a duffle bag rested on the top shelf. Inside the bag were some extra magazines and a file she was tracking down on the Widow. “Look at this,” Natasha said, walking over to you. “She thought she was being followed.” You took the pad of paper from her. Yelena was keeping track of the Widow’s movement.

“Why didn’t she tell you or Melina about this?” You asked. She did not describe who she thought was following her; she only thought they were men.

“She probably thought she could handle it. She’s stubborn.” You hummed, nodding your head.

“Sounds like another Black Widow, I know,” you said. You handed her the notepad back and walked over to the window. You moved the blinds and saw a small fruit shop. “There’s nothing here that will help us,” you told the Russian. “But I have an idea.”

Putting on a smile, you walked through the fruit containers toward a woman behind a counter. “Hola,” the woman greeted you. “How can I help you?” Her English was laced with a heavy accent, but it was oddly confronting. It reminded you of babysitters and cleaners that your parents hired.

“Hello, ma’am, I was wondering if you could help us,” she looked hesitant between you and Natasha. “My wife and I were supposed to meet her sister, but she hasn’t shown up. Have you seen her? She’s blonde, shorter than me, and has a Russian accent.”

“Are you the police?” She asked. You shook your head.

“No, ma’am. My name is Y/n Ortega. " The relief that washed across the woman’s face wasn’t lost on you when she recognized your last name. There was a part of you that hated using your last name and the influence you knew you had, but desperate times call for desperate measures. The shopkeeper grabbed your hand and kissed your family ring. You glanced at Natasha, who just shrugged.

“Oh, Sra. Ortega, we were so sad to hear of your parent’s passing. We prayed for your family every night.” She dropped your hand.

“Thank you,” you told her. “I appreciate it.” And it was the truth, but the mention of your parent’s death always struck a deep emotion within you. They were killed right in front of you. You felt Natasha loop her arm through yours, and you fought your body’s natural reaction to lean against her.

“So, have you seen my sister?” she asked, her voice having a slight Russian accent. She was a great actress. The woman looked around to ensure no one else was around.

“The last time I saw your sister was two days ago. I told her that some men were following her and asking about her.” She whispered, afraid someone would hear her.

“These men? Do you know who they are?” She looked terrified. “Señora, I can protect you, but if you know anything to help us, please tell us.”

“We call them Ascendencia, the real people that run this town,” it was the group that the Widow Yelena was trying to help work for.

“Thank you. You have been a big help,” Natasha said. You pulled out your wallet and handed her money, but she closed your hand around the cash.

“Keep it,” she said. “Your presence is priceless. The estrella de belén (Bethlehem star) is back.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Even though your company thought you were on vacation, you had some work to do. You planned to hit the Ascendancy at night. The night was when your powers were best utilized. While Natasha was showering, you were working on your laptop. Well, you were trying, but what the shop owner said was racing through your mind. The Star of Bethlehem was a phenomenon that scholars could never prove existed. Perhaps it was a supernova, a comet, a solar flare, or even an alignment of planets. Or it may never have existed after all. The truth was science may never know. From a religious standpoint, the star in the Bible and Christian tradition was said to have led the Magi to the birthplace of Jesus Christ. By this woman calling you the Star of Bethlehem, she saw you as the next savior. Why were you the savior? “You know,” Natasha said. You looked up from your laptop and stared at the Russian, only wearing a bathrobe. “I liked it when you called me your wife.” She walked over to the bar and poured a glass of wine. She took a sip and walked over to you. Your eyes never left her as she took the laptop from your hand.

“What are you doing?” You asked and grabbed her wrist.

“Getting you to relax,” she put the glass of wine in your hand. “You’ve been on edge since we left that woman’s fruit stand.” She chose to sit right next to you. Her legs were touching yours. “Are you okay? I know your parents are a touchy subject.” You rolled your eyes and stood up, pushing the glass of wine in her hands.

“Like you care about me,” you said. You picked up your laptop and headed to your room.

“I never stopped caring about you,” you stopped. “Or loving you, for that matter.” Slowly, you turned around to face her.

“Then why did you disappear?” You asked her. “Why did you throw a five-year relationship down the drain?”

“For you. To keep you safe,” you stared at her, disbelief evident on your face. I signed the Accords,” you knew this. You followed it very closely. “Tony signed the Accords. If Ross found out who you are, he would have thrown you in the RAFT.” She ran to protect you. You shook your head.

“I would have signed the Accords,” you honestly said.

“No, the Polaris is too much of who you are. I wasn’t going to let them take that away from you.”

“Stop,” you hissed. “Stop making decisions that affect me without talking to me.” You let out a shaky breath. “I would have left it all behind for you because I loved you,” her face fell as you said ‘loved.’ “But you made a decision that wasn’t yours to make.” She stood up, leaving the wine glass on the table, and closed the distance between you and her.

“What can I do to fix this?” You looked at Natasha and stared into her green eyes. So many nights, you’ve gotten lost in the green of her eyes. There was a part of you, deep within you, that wanted to embrace her, look past everything, and open your heart back up to her. But the rational part of your mind overpowered the hopeless romantic. You remembered the countless nights you stayed up late over a bottle of whiskey, the times you were the Polaris and thought fuck it and let whoever you were fighting to kill you. Anything would have been better than the pain of her leaving.

“I don’t know, Natasha,” you sighed. “Let’s focus on saving Yelena.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“How many do you see?” You asked her. You were on the rooftop a few buildings from the prison where Yelena was being held. It was in an abandoned town, so it was a perfect spot for a group that wanted to remain under the radar. Unfortunately, many villages were abandoned due to drug cartels or natural disasters. Natasha put down the binoculars.

“Multiple guards with assault rifles. There are snipers on the towers,” she sighed. “Whatever is going on in there, they want to protect it. Any ideas on how to get it?” You smiled and rubbed your hands together.

“A few exactly,” you felt her gaze on you. “Stop looking at me like that.” The Black Widow shrugged.

“You look good in your suit,” you could say the same thing about her. She added new additions since the last time you saw her. A vest was on the top, and the Black Widow symbol on her belt was gone. Your suit was the same. Your face was covered to hide your identity, and your suit was black but with white specs that mapped out constellations. One constellation, Orion, was across your chest. The other was Scorpius down your back. The final constellation was Scutum, which was up and down your arms. They all meant protection.

Glancing up at the sky, it was clear. Not a single cloud in the sky. It was the perfect night to use your powers. “Oh great, Cassiopeia, lend me your powers,” you placed your hands on the roof’s ledge. “Show me the way to what I seek.” Your hands glowed orange, and a trail raced toward the prison. Each guard it passed, it outlined them. The light provided a path to follow, stopping at a cell. The orange glow highlighted a girl.

“That must be Yelena,” Natasha pointed to where the glow stopped. “We have to get to her,” you grabbed her arm to prevent her from getting up. “What are you doing?”

“Just trust me,” you said to her. “You may be good, but there is no way you can sneak past all those guards and get Yelena out.” Besides, Cassiopeia showed you Yelena’s location, not her condition. Keeping your hand on her arm, you let out a shaky breath. “Great Gamma Draconis,” you said. “Lend me your power and bestow us your gift.” She looked at you, confused because nothing happened, unlike when she saw your powers up close. “We are invisible to everyone else, and if we stop touching each other, then we become invisible to each other.” You went to remove your hand to show her, but she grabbed it and interlocked her fingers with yours.

You couldn’t help but look at your connected hands. It felt so good to feel her skin against yours. Her hands were smooth besides the callous on her fingers from shooting. After all this time, her touch could still ground you, and you weren’t lost in the astral plane. “Come on,” you said. “Let’s go save your sister.” The sooner this mission was over, than you would never have to see her again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Your powers made it easy to sneak towards the prison and break inside. The only problem was that you struggled to focus on how close Natasha was to you. Suddenly, she stopped and pushed you against the wall. She put her finger to her lips and pointed. You followed to where she was pointing and saw two men. They were speaking in Spanish, and you quickly translated the conversation in your head.

‘That blonde bitch is getting on my nerves,’ one said.

‘The boss wants her alive,’ the other added. ‘We just have to be patient, and then we will be rewarded.’ They walked away. It was a good thing they needed her alive, but the question was why. You leaned closer to Natasha’s ear.

“We need to hurry,” you whispered, ignoring the way her body shivered and she leaned towards you. You pushed her away slightly and continued to follow the path. A plan was swirling in your head: get Yelena out, care for her wounds, and stop this group.

To your surprise, there was no guard at the cell. Natasha picked the lock and dragged you inside, but the room was empty, and the door slammed shut behind you. Natasha dropped your hand, and she was visible. “Where is she?” She asked. You ran to the door and placed your hand on the handle. It was luck.

“Aquila,” you said. “Eagle that carried Zeus’ thunderbolt free us.” Nothing happened. Instead, vents opened on the ceiling, and gas began to fill the room. Natasha fell to her knees, coughing as the mysterious gas filled her lungs. You ran over to the Black Widow. Your suit glowed as the stars protected you from the gas.

“Nat,” she slumped against you as her eyes closed. Her breathing was labored, but she had a pulse. The door opened behind you. You turned to face whoever entered, but a bat to the side of your head brought you down. Your arms wrapped around Natasha, one last desperate act to protect her.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You woke up to the metallic taste in your mouth. It took a minute for your eyes to adjust to the low light, but you saw Natasha chained up next to her sister. They were awake, but it was hard to assess her injuries. You moved your arms and saw that you were chained to the ground in a kneeling position. The rattle of your chains got Natasha’s attention. “You’re up,” her voice sounded distorted. It was like someone stuffed your ears with cotton. You shook your head to rid the feeling, but it made it worse. “Hey,” you looked at the Russian. “Focus on my voice. You have a gash on the side of your head.” That explained the blood. “Can you heal it?” That was simple. You could heal it. You let out a shaky breath.

“Great Rod of Asclepius, I call upon your power to heal me and those around me.” But the typical warmth didn’t come. Instead, your body burned. You hissed in pain as a blue glow burned bright in the room. Above the door were symbols on the wall that you weren’t sure what they were. They were everywhere.

“They were here when they put me in here,” Yelena said. Why? They knew you were coming if they graved these symbols to suppress your abilities. “I’m guessing you are the one my sister wouldn’t shut up about.”

“Yelena!” Natasha hissed.

“I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you finally, Yelena. I’ve heard a lot about you.” The shock on her face was evident. On any other day, you would question the look of shock on her face, but you needed to figure out how to get out of here. You tugged at the metal chains, but they wouldn’t move. There was a way out, but it was dangerous for you and those around you.

The doors opened, and a man and woman entered. Two guards were stationed by the door. The woman walked over to Natasha and Yelena, grabbing them by their chins. “Don’t touch them,” you warned.

“I don’t think you are in any position to make demands, Polaris,” the man said and approached you. His fingers graze the cut on your head. Your blood covered his fingers. “Why aren’t you healing? Are you having some trouble?” He smirked. You wanted to wipe it off his stupid face.

“What do you want?” Natasha asked. The man ignored Natasha and continued to stare at you. You tried to hold his stare, but it sent a shiver down your spine. Finally, you looked away.

“You look like your mother,” he knelt before you. “It’s a pity she was taking from you so young. She was special.”

“What do you want?” you finally asked. It seemed impossible, but his smile got bigger and wider.

“We did all of this for you,” he stood up. “Aren’t you enjoying it?” His counterpart took his spot in front of you. Her fingernails dug into your cheek.

“Smile, darling,” she said. Frowning causes wrinkles, and we want your face to be nice and beautiful. " She kissed your cheek. We won’t hurt you unless you start being difficult.” You saw Natasha’s eyes turn stormy. Your ex was always possessive. It looked like some things stayed the same.

“How about we cut the shit and steamroll this process?” Natasha deadpanned. “You give us your villain speech, we escape and stop you, and I can stop by the beach and enjoy a margarita before my flight home,” you almost laughed at the stunned look on the couple’s face. Natasha always had a flare for the dramatics, but the man snapped his fingers. It happened instantly, the pain that radiated through your body was unlike anything you’ve experienced. You groaned but tried to keep your noises at bay. You refused to give them that satisfaction, but you saw the concern and worry in Natasha’s eyes. Her face remained stoic. The man snapped again, and the pain stopped.

“She’s perfect!” the woman cheered and kissed the man’s cheek.

“I told you she would be, sweetheart,” he grabbed her chin and brought their lips together.

“Gross,” you heard Yelena mumble. After a few deep breaths, your body wasn’t on fire anymore.

“I don’t understand,” you said. “Who are you people?”

“It’s no surprise your parents never told you about us. My name is Victor Reyes,” he grabbed the woman’s hand. “And this is my beautiful wife, Anna.” Even though pain fogged up your mind, you knew it was terrible that they gave you their full name. It was a sign that you weren’t getting out of here alive. “Your parents ruined us, and now you will help us rebuild.”

“What did they do?” You questioned. “They were business people, not fighters,” your parents wouldn’t fight a terrorist group unless they were disrupting the business. Anna laughed.

“Poor baby, mommy and daddy lied to you,” she said. “Do you think it was a coincidence you got those powers the night your parents were killed? You weren’t the first vigilante in the family.” You frowned. They couldn’t have had these powers. Every night, you were left alone with O'Conner, your family butler; they covered that they were stuck at work.

“What do you want from her?” Yelena asked. Victor turned to face the blonde.

“Her life force,” he said. It was said so causally that you almost missed it. “Her gift can power weapons, buildings, and people. Our leader tried to jump-start this project, but her parents killed him.”

Killed someone? Your parents weren’t killers. They were involved in the family business, and you or they had no time to dirty their hands. Natasha saw the sea of emotions pass through you. “So that is your plan?” Natasha questioned. “Use her powers to take over the world,” she rolled her eyes. “We’ve seen this before. It’s not an original idea.” Victor knelt in front of Natasha.

“You don’t understand the magnitude of your lover’s powers, do you?” Your stomach turned. Victor twisted her blonde locks around his fingers. “The stars are so important to our world.”

“Stars are the primary source of elements that make up the universe: carbon, nitrogen, oxygen,” Anna moved next to you and placed her hand on your head. Her nails dug into your scalp. “Astronomers believe stars to be the cosmic engines that create galaxies.”

“Exactly, my love,” Victor smiled over his shoulder. “You see now, Mrs. Romanoff, we won’t just take over this world but every galaxy that the stars touch,” he stood up. “We have people stationed all over, ready for our word. We will rebuild this galaxy into something beautiful. " Their voices became white noise as they continued to taunt Yelena and Natasha. Finally, they left you three alone.

“Well, this is great,” Yelena mumbled, slumping back against the wall. If they were to harness your powers, they could bring down galaxies, create new ones, and be the ultimate ruler. This was bad.

“Hey,” you looked at Natasha. “What’s going through your head?”

“I need to get you two out of here,” you said. There was a small window, and you could see the stars and feel the power that they gave you.

“How do you plan to do that?” The younger Black Widow questioned. “Those symbols stop your powers.” You nodded, licking your lips. You could do this.

“Oh, great, Asclepius and Aquila, I call on you to allow me to use your gifts, release them from their bonds, and heal their wounds.” You bite down on your lip to stop the whimper of pain that threatened to escape. Black dots covered your vision, and everything was burning. You swore your blood was on fire.

The only thing keeping you upright were the chains attached to the ground—until your forehead came in contact with the fabric of Natasha’s suit. You heard the sisters talking, but their words were muffled like you were in an episode of Charlie Brown when the adults were talking. “Hey,” the older Black Widow turned her attention to you. “You have to leave me.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Maybe, but you were a liability. You were in no shape to transverse this compound to leave. You pulled away from Natasha and spit blood onto the floor. “They want you. We need to get you out of here.”

“You need to get out of here and warn the team. If” a violent cough ripped through your body and you tasted more blood in your mouth. Shit. That was not good. You ignored the worried look the sisters shared. “If they are as big as they are claiming, you need the Avengers to stop them. I,” your vision began to blur. “I can stop them here.” What if Victor and Anna weren’t the real leaders behind this? Even if they couldn’t harness your ability, they were still a threat to the balance of this world.

“Sweetheart,” Natasha whispered. You managed a smile at the pet name and focused on her eyes. You loved them so much. You noticed her face would be emotionless with the years together, but her eyes gave so much away.

“Moya zvezda (my star),” Natasha tried to teach you Russian, but you only learned a few words. Star was one of them. “My North Star, it’s going to be okay.” You weren’t sure if you could keep that promise. “You’ll get the team back together and save the world like always.”

“Please, there has to be another way,” you glanced at Yelena. A silent plea to get her sister out of here. She nodded.

“I never stopped loving you, Natasha,” you admitted. “No matter how much you leaving hurt.”

“Sestra,” Yelena nudged Natasha’s shoulder. “We should go. We do not know when they will be back.” You smiled and nodded your head. Natasha sighed and hugged you tight. Her lips grazed your forehead, and you leaned into her touch.

“If this is the last time we see each other. I’m going to be fucking pissed.” You couldn’t help but chuckle and watch Yelena drag Natasha to the door. She looked over her shoulder one last time and left.

You hung your head and let out a shaky breath. Each breath sent a sharp pain through your sides. Until today, you never understood why you were gifted these powers, but you knew you wanted to protect people. They were gifted to you on the night your parents were killed. When O'Conner took you home from the hospital, you fell into a deep sleep and had a very high fever. He had to bring you right back to the hospital.

Everyone chalked it up to stress. You witnessed a traumatic event, and that was how your body reacted to it. Only you, O'Conner and the Starks knew the truth of what you became. You could call on the power of the stars and harness their powers. It took a lot of trial and error to figure out which star provided what power.

But you made a promise to those around you that you would never call on the power of the sun. The power was too unpredictable, and the damage to your body was unclear. It was a promise you had to break. You spit out the blood that was pooling in your mouth. “Please,” you whispered. “Please. After everything I’ve given and suffered with this gift, help me.” Another cough ripped through you as the symbols glowed a light blue.

“Helios,” you kept your voice strong and steady. “I call upon you to bestow me with your powers.” Your body began to burn as the symbols tried to stop your powers. “Helios, please use me to embody your powers and stop those threatening peace.”

The symbols grew brighter, but the burning stopped, and soon, you were filled with warmth. It was like a warm embrace from an old friend or a hug from your mother. Your wounds healed, and the chains that imprisoned you fell to the ground. With newfound strength, you stood up, walked to the middle of the room, and knelt down. The palm of your hand was pressed against the concert floor.

“Helios,” you saw your body glow yellow like the sun. “Destroy.” The glow traveled across the room. As the glow moved throughout the compound, you saw everything Helios encountered. The members of Ascendencia were in a panic; some ran for the exit. “Capture,” Helios grabbed those that ran and cemented them to the ground. You saw Victor order those around him to stop you, but it was too late. The most important thing was that Helios did not see Natasha and Yelena; they must have made it out.

“Boom,” you mumbled. You felt the explosion first. The heat and power of Helios sent you flying into the wall. With you still connected to the sun, you heard and felt all the lives that were taken. The pain was unbearable, and you fell into the darkness, welcomed by a call from your mother.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

There was a pressure on your chest when you came too. You opened your eyes and blinked a few times from the harsh light. On your chest was blonde hair cut into a bob, and she was resting on your chest. “Natasha,” you mumbled. She sat up quickly, eyes wide when she heard your voice. There were bags under her eyes, and her cheeks were blotchy. Carefully, you cupped her cheek and moved her thumb across her skin. “Am I dead?” Your ex laughed, shaking your head. You watched tears form in her eyes.

“No,” she whispered. “You almost were. It was touch and go for so long I wasn’t sure if you would make it,” you pushed a few tears that fell away. “Tony is pissed.” You chuckled.

“At me or you?”

“Both,” it was her turn to smile, but it was shaky. You moved your hand to her neck and pulled her closer to you. She protested, mumbling about not wanting to hurt you. You hushed her and moved over so she could lie down next to you. Her face was buried in the space between your neck and shoulder. Her breath fawned against your neck. Natasha’s voice was soft as she explained everything.

According to Natasha, she and Yelena got out just in time before the building exploded. Yelena couldn’t stop her sister from returning to find you. While Natasha searched for you, Yelena called the woman from the fruit stand - Gloria. When the older Black Widow found you, a white glow surrounded you. You were alive but barely.

They were able to move you to Gloria’s home, where you stayed until you were stable enough to move back to the Avengers’ compound in Upstate New York. That was three weeks ago. While you were healing, Natasha brought the Avengers together and started the process of taking down the Ascendencia. It was slow work, but it was going well.

You knew she could do it. There was something about Natasha that drew people in. “Everyone knows,” she said and sat up so she could see your face. “Tony tried to stop it, but everyone knows you are the Polaris.” Somehow, you knew this day would come, and you were okay with the world knowing. It was a surprise your secret lasted this long.

“Okay,” you said. “That’s fine. I’ll have to do a press conference,” she gave you a pointed look. “It’s the truth. I’m okay with everyone knowing.” She nodded and hesitated to lay back down, but when you didn’t stop her. You ran your fingers through her blonde hair and watched the Black Widow melt against you. “I like the blonde,” you said. “But I do miss the red.” Natasha rested her chin on your chest and looked up at you.

“Tell me, you meant what you said before we left that room,” she said. “Do you love me?” You sighed.

“I tried to stop,” you said. “Drowned my feelings with booze, being the Polaris, and women that I didn’t care about,” her hand went to the side of your neck, a protective grip on it. “Nothing worked. Ever since that party, you’ve trapped me inside your web.” The Black Widow rolled her eyes at your spider pun.

“I’m sorry,” you knew it was hard for her to apologize. “You were right. I made a decision that wasn’t mine to make.”

“Tasha, I wasn’t living until I met you,” you whispered. “You gave me a reason to live.” It seemed natural as you both gravitated towards each other until your lips touched. Sighing into the kiss, you twisted your hand in her hair. No matter how many years together, kissing Natasha made your stomach flip. It was your favorite thing.

“Oh my fucking eyes,” you and Natasha jumped apart at the sound of Yelena’s voice. “I’m glad you are awake, but I did not need to see your tongue down my sister’s throat.”

“Suka,” Natasha mumbled and climbed out of the bed to sit back in the chair. You chuckled and took her hand in yours, not wanting to be away from her completely. When your parents were killed, you thought your life was over. Then you became the Polaris, and there was a reason for you to get out of bed each day. But being a vigilante lost its meaning. All of your hope was lost until you met Natasha. She was your missing peace, your true north, your reason to exist in this vast galaxy.

[moonlight-alexia]

pair of pests: interviews ˏˋ°•*⁀ kyra x catley!reader, short fic/blurb

kyra cooney-cross x reader | 1.2k | based off of this ask (mostly just harper and tiny, with a little of kyra at the end)

Mini was currently in a post match interview with Harper when you’d been called into the room to wait on the side since you were supposed to have one as soon as Mini’s was done. You tried to be discreet and for the most part you’d been able to slip into the room without Harper’s attention shifting to you.

You silently laughed on the side, watching Harper inevitably steal the show from her mum. Climbing up onto the table, playing around with the microphone that was propped up on the table, looking out at everyone and then playing with the bracelets she had around her wrists that the fans had just given them.

Any interviews with Harper, she’d always steal the show and you couldn’t blame anyone, she was too cute to ignore. Though you’d accidentally laughed a little too loud which caught Harper’s attention. Knowing how she is with you, is why you’d tried to stay quiet and discreet so you wouldn’t ruin another one of Mini’s interviews.

‘Ti!’ Harper almost shouted and tried to get to you as fast as possible, climbing back up onto the table and trying to just jump off the other side. Mini had to jump up and quickly stop Harper from tumbling off the table onto the floor. Harper wiggled in Mini’s arms until she’d been placed on the ground and ran off to you.

‘Hi Harps,’ You leaned down, opening your arms so she could run into them and have you lift her up, ‘Shh we’ve gotta be quiet so your mum can finish up,’ You tried to keep Harper quiet while Mini finished her interview.

‘It’s boring,’ Harper whined, catching everyone’s attention while they laughed at her comment, you couldn’t help but laugh as well.

With everyone distracted it seemed to be the perfect time to finish up Mini’s post match interview. Mini moved away from the table over to where you were holding Harper, going to take Harper so you could do your post match interview. When Harper saw her mum coming towards you both she threw her arms around your neck and buried her head, if she couldn’t see her mum then she couldn’t be taken away from you.

You and Mini both shared a look as well as a small laugh at Harper’s actions, ‘You wanna stay with me and help me do my interview?’ You spoke softly. Harper lifted her head and nodded.

‘Oh but I thought it’s boring,’ Mini poked Harper’s side, making her laugh.

‘Boring with you but not with Ti!’ Harper gave Mini a little cheeky smile.

‘She spends too much time with you and Kyra,’ Mini laughed, giving your shoulder a little nudge.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Mini shook her head when you gave her the exact same smile Harper had just given her. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that you and Harper aren’t actually sisters.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You were on your way to a pre match press conference, since your schedule fit the best with it you Tony had asked you to do the press conference alongside him. Though you’d made the mistake of walking through where Mini, Harper and some of the other girls were. 

Not even a minute of being in the same space as Harper, you’d heard the sounds of her little feet running towards you. Leaning down, you gave her a hug, ‘I’m sorry, I have to go speak with some people,’ It wasn’t the easiest to leave Harper, especially during camps she would almost always be attached to you. It was the most time she got to spend with you almost uninterrupted. You always did your best to see Mini, Harper and the rest of your little found family back in London, but away matches and different training schedules didn’t make it easy.

‘Okay,’ Harper smiled and grabbed onto your hand when you stood up and went to walk along with you.

The others there tried to help you out and get Harper to stay behind with them, ‘It’s okay, I’m sure no one will mind,’ Making your way to the press conference you caught up with Tony, ‘I’m sorry, we’re like a package deal at this point,’ You both laughed at your comment. No one could deny that it wasn’t true.

‘It’s alright, they might even have questions for little Harper,’ 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

There were times where you got to have even more fun with the fact that Harper can pick you out in any kind of crowd. Like when it was an Arsenal v West Ham match and you were getting photos taken with your player of the match award. Harper had made her way through all the people to interrupt the photos.

Though you were prepared for something like this happening, since you knew you’d have your little shadow after the match. You’d bought a little Arsenal jersey and gotten Harper’s name printed on the back along with your number. Kyra helped you along with the plan of swapping Harper’s West Ham jersey with the Arsenal one. Kyra was waiting back a bit for you while you were busy with the staff when Harper came walking by her, ‘What I don’t get a hello?’ Kyra feigned offence but all she got was a little smirk and side eye from Harper.

‘Hang on a moment,’ You hadn’t gotten the photos taken just yet so you thought this was the perfect opportunity, ‘Kyra bring it here,’ You called out to your girlfriend who you knew was hiding the Arsenal jersey beneath her jacket. You both kneeled down next to Harper, ‘I got you a little present. How would you feel about wearing this right now?’ You asked Harper while Kyra held up the jersey, showing the back, ‘It’s just like mine,’ You turned slightly showing how the jersey’s both had the same number.

You both kept an eye out making sure no one, Mini in particular, would see this happening and stop it before you’d even had the chance to swap Harper’s jersey’s. Harper immediately reached out to grab at the jersey in Kyra’s hand. Kyra helped Harper swap the West Ham jersey she had over the top of her hoodie for the Arsenal one.

‘Much better in red,’ Kyra grinned and you knew Harper was going to copy that later and say it to Mini but it was all worth it. 

‘Just like Ti!’ Harper was excited, showing off the jersey to some of the other Arsenal girls that were walking by before you scooped her up, holding out the little award so you and Harper could hold it for your photos. You’d gotten a bunch of photos of the two of you together, showing off the back of the jersey’s as well. 

‘Yeah a little Tiny,’ Kyra smiled, admiring how good you were with Harper. Had her thinking about the future and getting to have moments like this with your own kid one day.

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 1)

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: 2700+

A/N Note: OK! Here we go! I'm excited to share this mini-series and what's to come in it. It's a lot more in-depth than I thought it would be, but I love it. I hope you do as well :) Anyway! As always, please let me know what you think, and all comments are welcome!

_____________

“And you chose those two to go on a task together?” Steve exasperated, running a hand over his face as he looked over the video footage in front of them.

“Everyone else was on a mission,” Tony exclaimed. 

“That and it doesn’t matter what their petty vendettas against each other are. They’re professionals at the end of the day that better get their God damn acts together before I personally make them regret it,” Fury countered. 

“Undercover newlyweds seems like a risky assignment for them,” Nat added. “Steve and I have done it before. We can-”

“No, you can not,” Fury cut them off and clicked a button on his desk that swapped the video footage of druglords to a file slowly scrolling. “You both have an assignment I’m sending you in the next hour in correlation to this case. So without your work, theirs is pointless. Got it?”

Nat and Steve shared a quick look before the blonde gave him a curt nod for him to continue. 

Fury went on to explain how an insider of the criminal group had confirmed shipments, including hostages working as drug mules and other illegal substances that hadn’t been tested yet across US borders. A whole operation in itself, but Bucky and Y/N’s job would give them information the current insiders they had on the job weren’t able to attain. 

Y/N and Bucky’s undercover assignment was to act as newlyweds, infiltrate the front runners of the group, and try to become a proven alliance in hopes of joining the group in their ‘business’.

“So we’re on standby with information until they have leads to help our end?” Steve concluded. 

“Yes. And vice versa. You’re running tactical, and they’re running intelligence, although a mix in between,” Fury nodded, handing them a paper copy of the mission.

“And it can’t go the other way?” Nat asked. 

“Your faces have become much too well known in the last few years for it to be passable,” Tony added, arms crossed and reclined in the rolling office chair he couldn’t see to keep stationary. “Bucky doesn’t care for the public eye and has changed appearances since his run from the government, and no one can forget America’s sweetheart over here,” he motioned to Steve.  

“I’ve changed identities enough to get by,” Nat shrugged, watching the brunette carefully. 

“Yes, but Y/N’s face hasn’t graced the nationwide flatscreens nearly as much as yours,” he smiled spryly and fluttered his eyelashes. “Plus, it’s already been decided, so we’re moving on from the argument.”

“How long of an operation are we talking about here if the two have to create a relationship with the front runners of this?” Steve asked.

“Depends on how well the couple can sell it,” Fury crossed his arms. “Speaking of the couple.”

“Shove me again, and you’ll lose another limb that you’ll miss far more than that arm,” Y/N growled as she pushed past the massive body blocking her way into the meeting room. 

“There’s a thing called manners, and it’s free to use them,” Bucky grunted as she shoved him with surprising strength that made him slightly teeter. 

 The group outside of the new additions gave each other a hopeless look. 

“I give it two days,” Steve sighed, resting his head on his fist and watching them as they struggled to find the last open chair. Y/N came on top of the scrabble and shoved him again for extra measures. 

“Jackass,” Bucky mumbled as he leaned against the wall behind her, kicking her chair in extra annoyance. 

“Bitchass,” Y/N retorted, throwing a middle finger behind her. 

“I think you give them too much credit,” Nat let out a dry chuckle before turning to Fury. “Please, break the news to the two idiots so I can have a highlight of this night.” 

“What news?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows to Fury. She was one of the few people who didn’t show fear towards the walking intimidation of a man. 

“Your next mission,” Tony answered in a long breath. “Where you and Barnes will be known as Mr. and Mrs. Hunt.”

“Excuse me?” Bucky gawked and stood straighter in his spot.

“What’s the date today?” Y/N asked at the same time. 

Bucky came around from her back and gave her a worried yet disgusted look. “I’m sorry. For what reason are you worried about the date?”

She never took her eyes off Fury. “I’m just trying to clarify if it’s April 1st or not because this is a poorly done April Fools joke,” she held an equally intimidating stare at the master in front of her. 

“It’s June. You’re off by a few months,” he replied, unphased and unbreaking. 

“Then I’d like some clarification on who needs a fucking lobotomy, considering that’s the dumbest fucking idea I’ve heard today. And I’ve been around this dumbass for the last 12 hours already,” she jabbed a finger back at Bucky, whose nostrils were flaring. 

“Real classy, Princess,” he said lowly. 

“Thanks, I like to keep it that way, Cyborg,” she replied without turning to him. “But seriously, is it you, Fury, that needs a Psych eval because there is no way in hell you thought this idea would actually work out in your favor.”

The room was silent as the two most intense people in the room had a stare-down. Eventually, Fury spoke up with a smirk on his lips. 

“You better figure the fuck out how to make it work in my favor because any other way isn’t really an option for you, Sergeant Y/L/N.” 

Before Y/N could fire another remark that would likely have put anyone else six feet in the ground, Bucky cut her off. “What’s the mission?”

Y/N finally gave Bucky her attention with a stern face freckled with annoyance. “Teacher’s pet.” Bucky made a face at her before she turned around. 

Fury went on to explain the mission on both their end and Nat and Steve’s. From the sounds of it, it was going to take months of convincing some dicks in the drug trafficking business (covering as presidents of the homeowner association club) that they wanted in on their scheme in order to get the information no one else seems to be able to steal.

“How many sundresses do you own, Y/N? Because I don’t think your rock band, ripped jeans, and Doc Martens are going to convince anyone you’re the baked-you-a-fresh-pie-as-a-hello-to-the-neighborhood-kind of wife,” he added, emphasizing the label he had already created for her undercover character.

“How are they going to take to a half-robotic husband?” she shoved his vibranium hand off the back of her chair.  

“I have technology for that,” Tony jumped in. 

“And I have your credit card for a new wardrobe, so I guess that solves both those problems,” she flashed a fake smile at Tony before crossing her arms snuggly across her chest. 

“You’re gonna have to leave that attitude at home, too,” Bucky got down to whisper in her ear, and he moved fast enough before she could sucker punch him in the face.

“Why not just arrest these two? Why go through the whole process of undercover work if we know they’re running the operation?” Y/N questioned, pivoting side to side in her chair as she thought aloud.

“Because there isn’t solid evidence, thanks to their associates being connected enough to cover shit up,” Fury answered. “And we believe there are multiple parties of their stature in the game. Meaning, we arrest them, the others scatter, and we risk losing a lot of information and take 20 steps back from where we’re at.” 

“Hmm,” she nodded as she stared off into a void space in the room, calculating her approach to this. 

“You’re actually considering this?” Nat asked. “I expected more of a fight.”

“I’m telling myself that it’s the drugs and possible human trafficking I’m doing this for, and tormenting Bucky along the way will be a bonus instead of a nuisance,” she replied with a weak smile like she was still convincing herself that.

“Smart,” Nat shrugged and gave an agreeable face.

“Your flights are leaving in four and a half hours, so I suggest packing your bag of necessities before we ship you off,” Tony sat up from his chair, stretching. “Any other things you need will be provided at the house already set up for you two to play the part of newlyweds. And get used to that word because it's about to become extremely annoying hearing it on repeat. Barnes comes with me to get that looking more human-like,” he pointed at his arm before walking out. 

Bucky scanned over the file in hand and let out a sigh. “We couldn’t get stationed beach somewhere in Hawaii?” 

“You’ll find the mountains rather eye-catching this time of the year,” Fury typed a few things on his desk and clasps his hands behind his back. “And that you don’t have a choice either way. Dismissed.” 

___________________

Y/N’s POV

The amount of junk they had pawned off to us as “newlywed cargo” seemed excessive. Brand new appliances were still in boxes unopened, letters on them saying who had gifted them to us as our “wedding gift” littered the kitchen and entryway. 

I was currently in the guest room unpacking a box of linens and bedding in the spare closet. My mind was a hundred miles away from my physical body, but somehow, I had managed to organize the closet in a surprisingly efficient manner while on autopilot. 

“Honey,” Bucky’s voice came from the hallway, and I took advantage of the times I wasn’t being watched to roll my eyes at the pet name. Before I could respond with a snarky comment, he followed up with, “The next-door neighbors are here to introduce themselves. Wanna come say hi?” 

Showtime. 

“Be right out!” I shouted back, standing from my spot, crouched to the ground, and brushing off one of the many new sundresses now taking up space in my closet.

For clarity, it’s not that I was against them; it just wasn’t my usual taste. Though the freeness of no pants was starting to rub off on me…

Coming around the corner of the hallway to our homey new abode, I plastered an award-winning smile on my face and scanned the two individuals in front of Bucky. I gave Bucky a silent look that read, “Hey sweetheart,” to outsiders and, “The assholes in question?” to a trained eye. 

“Doll,” Bucky started, nodding his head once at my true question and matching my step to wrap an arm around my waist, pulling me close for extra show. “This is Reginold and Bethanne Bauer. They’re our neighbors right across the street from us,” he introduced, adding a squeeze to my hip that I countered with a pinch to his side that he chuckled off. 

The physical touch was for show, but I knew he used it as a way to irritate me further, too. Lucky for me, it’s a two-player game. 

“Please, call me Reggie,” the middle-aged man offered his hand.

The man looked like he played the role of a typical white male living in a cookie-cutter home, but his build showed he wasn’t on the unfit side of things. From the files, he was 42 years old, and he obviously had kept his health a priority because he could have been in his mid 30s, from what I gathered. 

“You must be Charlotte,” Bethanne said, jumping in when her husband didn’t release my hand in a timely manner. “My my, you’re far more beautiful up close,” she said with a sweet smile, though any woman could recognize the hint of judgment in them. 

Bethanne Bauer was a 5’6”, 38-year-old lady with darker blonde hair and a figure that showed she likely was a pilates guru who didn’t take many days off. Her Lululemon leggings and slicked-back bun confirmed this assessment. 

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” I replied with a nose crinkle and a firm squeeze of my hand before drawing it back to rest on Bucky’s chest. “We appreciate you coming by and introducing yourself,” I smiled up to Bucky, who was already looking down at me (what a showman). I leaned my head in the nook of his shoulder as I turned back to them. “We were so nervous about starting over in a new state and weren’t sure what the community would be like. But everyone’s been so kind here in Montana, and you guys are just proving that point.” 

“Oh, this neighborhood is like a family,” Reggie replied, keeping his eyes on me. I'd feel uneasy if I didn’t know how to disarm a man in five hundred ways, but I knew more than 500 ways to get a man like the one in front of me to grovel. “So much so, you may be under careful watch for a while,” he winked, and I forced a laugh out, Bucky pulling me closer to his side at the harmless threat. “I’m just joking with ya,” he waved off with a boisterous laugh of his own, and Bethanne rolled her eyes. 

“He thinks he’s a comedian,” she playfully patted his shoulder. “But really, if you guys need anything at all, we are just a shout away. Or, our welcome to the neighborhood gift basket has our phone numbers in it, too, if you prefer to call.” 

Off to the side, I noticed a cellophane wicker basket with baked goods, a wine bottle, and some gift cards in it. Bucky must have accepted it before I got in here.

“You all are too kind,” I gushed, putting a hand on my chest in appreciation. “See honey,” I swatted Bucky’s chest, getting a tiny grunt from him. “I told you we would find a home here. I have a good feeling about this community,” I winked back at them with a wide grin. 

I could see the studying eyes on the woman and decided to act oblivious to her assessing. 

“Can I ask y’all a quick question?” I asked, a twinge of a southern accent I hadn’t pulled in ages coming out casually. “Where is the best grocery store around here? I’ve heard mixed things about the two stores y’all have, and you guys seem to have great taste, so,” I motioned to the gift basket. 

Bethanne listed a few of the stores they go to, ones I had researched on our flight here to get a better grounding of our new home. Of course, they were the more high-end stops. Eventually, the Bauers excused themselves for a neighborhood meeting they had planned, and Bucky and I were left alone. As soon as the door shut, I moved to the kitchen to grab a notepad. 

“Have we unpacked the pens, Beau?” I asked loudly, using Bucky’s fake name, which he seemed to know why right off the bat.

“Second drawer by the fridge,” he motioned, opening the basket and going through it, our charades still continuing. 

“I had a few things we need to grab from the store and thanks to our helpful neighbors, we know the best spot now,” I mindlessly talked as I wrote on the note; Check for bugs.

A welcome basket was fine and dandy, but considering who it was from and how quick they were to be at our doorstep—not even two hours into the moving vans' pull-up—I knew the drill, and so did Bucky as he listed out aloud what was in the gift. 

“Wow, they got us Doordash gift cards,” he smiled, placing them on the marble counter. “Wanna eat in tonight? Maybe a local spot?” 

“Sounds good to me,” I hummed, coming around the island corner and placing the notebook beside it. “Oh, did you find their number? We can ask if they have any suggestions.”

Placing the pen on top of the notepad for Bucky to respond, I moved to look in the basket myself and grabbed the note they had attached to it. 

“Eat in, drink some wine, and,” he circled the word ‘bugs,’ confirming the suspicion before leaning on the counter and looking at me with communicative eyes that didn’t match his words. “Watch a movie if I can get the TV set up by then.”

“Sounds like a date,” I smiled, but the annoyance that we had to be playing our characters until we could dispose of the bug was playing in my eyes.

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

[the-winter-spider]

What I Have | B. Barnes

Word Count: 2.5k

Warning: Probably the fluffiest piece ive written lol

A/N: I was listening to What I Have by Kelsea Ballerini and well here we are lol

—-

The year was 2024, over one hundred years since you were born—105, to be exact. Your life hadn’t turned out at all like you had dreamed or hoped it would.

You were supposed to marry the boy next door once the war was done. You’d picked out your wedding dress while window shopping with your best friend, even before he proposed. You made a scrapbook, meticulously curating hairstyles and makeup looks, debating over the choices as if they were the most pressing decisions in the world.

You sketched out your dream house, selecting the colors, the flowers for the front garden, and the vegetables you would surely grow in the back. You even chose the font for your new last name on the mailbox.

You had each of your children’s names picked out—three, to be exact. Two boys and one girl, you had hoped. Everything was a dream, but it seemed so close, so possible, as if it should have been a reality. You should be dead by now, having lived a full life, with your children who should have been walking the earth with their children, your grandchildren.

But everything went wrong. Literally, everything possible went wrong.

Bucky fell off a train and died. He actually fell off a train, and they declared him dead. In reality, he had lost his arm, survived the fall because Hydra had already experimented on him. They brainwashed him, like something out of a twisted fairy tale, turning him into a deadly assassin. Your beautiful, blue-eyed Bucky, your sweet Bucky, became a killer. A Bucky you would never see again, because even though he was still here, and you were so thankful for that, he would never be your Bucky again.

And then there was Steve. Of course, Steve found him, because of course! And let’s not forget that your best friend, Steve, who was once smaller than you, was injected with a serum that not only tripled his size but turned him into a superhero because, yes, apparently those needed to exist. Of course, he went off to war, driven by a need for revenge for his best friend, your fiancé Bucky. And of course, he had to be noble, going down for the cause, leading everyone to believe he was dead. But of course, he wasn’t. They found him, frozen but alive, because he was Captain America, and that’s just what happens.

And then there was you, consumed by grief, first losing the love of your life and then your best friend. You begged, on your knees, begged Howard Stark to use you as his test subject for cryogenic testing. You couldn’t bear to be here without your boys. He hesitated because he loved Steve, and he knew Steve wouldn’t want this for you. But when you threatened that if he didn’t, you would take your own life, he relented. So, of course, it worked because it was Howard, and he was a Stark. But decades passed, and the year he was supposed to wake you up, The Winter Soldier murdered him. So, as usual, you stayed frozen, but alive, until Howard’s son, Tony, found you in his father’s hidden lab.

You woke up to a world that was not your own, a century too late for the life you were supposed to live. The world had moved on, but you hadn’t. Your friends were legends now, mythologized beyond recognition. And you, well, you were the ghost of what could have been.

The years that followed were a blur of new faces, new battles, and new griefs. You tried to adapt, to find a place in this future that had no room for you. But every corner of this brave new world reminded you of the past, of the life that slipped through your fingers.

And then one day, while sifting through old boxes in Tony’s lab, you found something. It was an old, faded book, as soon as you saw the brown cover you heart dropped you knew what it was, it waa your scrapbook. The cover had an old faded photo of you, Bucky, and Steve, taken on a sunny day before the world went mad. You barely recognized the girl in the photo, with her bright smile and unbroken heart. But there she was, a relic of a time that now felt like a dream.

You realised then that maybe you didn’t belong in this world. Maybe you never did. But as long as you were here, you could try—try to make sense of the pieces left behind, to find some small measure of peace in the chaos.

And that’s exactly what you did. Even though you didn’t have the life you had once dreamed of, you still had them. And in what world does all that trauma happen, and you still end up alive with your boys?

You picked up the dusty book, holding it close to your heart, as you navigated through the compound, following the sound of laughter coming from the living room. You paused just outside the doorway, soaking in the warmth of his laugh—a sound you feared you might never hear again after Bucky began recovering from his trauma. But here it was, filling the room, and even though it wasn’t the same Bucky you knew decades ago, his laugh was unchanged, and it made your heart swell.

Rounding the corner, you saw Steve clutching his chest in joy, playfully shoving Sam, who was grinning widely.

Bucky’s eyes immediately found yours; he could always find you in any room. “Hi, doll,” he said, getting up to kiss your cheek and taking your hand to lead you to the couch.

“Hi, Buck. Hi, Stevie, Sammy,” you greeted them, settling in beside Bucky.

Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname. “You’re lucky I like you.”

Bucky glanced down at the book in your arms. “What’s that?”

Steve’s smile faded into something more serious as he noticed the book, instantly recognizing it. “Is that what I think it is?”

You nodded, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “Stark… he kept it. I haven’t opened it yet. I thought… I thought we could do it together.”

“What is it?” Sam asked, his curiosity piqued.

“It’s my life,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “There are a few pages of what I thought it would turn out to be… but after everything happened…” You paused, taking a steadying breath. The memories of losing Bucky and Steve were still fresh, no matter how much time had passed. “I never planned or dreamed of anything else. It just felt silly without you boys. So, I just filled it with photographs.”

“Photographs of who?” Sam asked, leaning forward.

“Everyone,” you replied softly, glancing between Bucky and Steve. “Peggy and Mrs. Rogers,” you said, meeting Steve’s gaze. You saw the emotion in his eyes at the mention of his mother. “Becca and Winnie, Mr. Barnes,” you continued, feeling Bucky tense slightly at the mention of his mother and sister, their faces now distant memories. “I even have Howard and the Commandos.” You smiled a little. “But mostly, it’s us—all of us.”

Bucky reached out, gently taking the book from your hands. His fingers brushed the worn cover, the room fell silent as the weight of the past settled around you all.

“Let’s open it together,” Steve suggested, his voice thick with emotion. He moved closer, his presence a steady anchor as you all gathered around the book. Sam stayed distant, letting the three of you have your moment but still staying there.

Bucky opened the cover, and the first page revealed a photograph of you, Bucky, and Steve, taken in a simpler time. The three of you looked so young, so hopeful. You felt Bucky’s hand tighten around yours as he stared at the image, memories rushing back. It was a photo from your 16th birthday, the day he had gifted you the book.

“I gave this to you,” Bucky said quietly, the realization settling over him.

You nodded. “For my birthday. You wrote…” You trailed off, pointing to the top left corner of the front of the book.

He read the words aloud, his voice filled with emotion. “Happy 16th birthday to my best girl. I hope you fill these pages with your hopes and dreams. I can only hope that somewhere in amongst them, I’ll be a part of it. With all the love, Bucky.”

Sam smiled, leaning back in his seat. “Who knew you were such a romantic, Buck?”

You watched as Bucky’s cheeks flushed a light shade of red at the comment, and you gave his knee a gentle squeeze, feeling the warmth of the old affection between you.

“For y/n, he was crazy,” Steve chimed in, grinning. “You should have seen him—head over heels is an understatement. Try obses—”

Before Steve could finish, Bucky reached behind you and gave him a playful shove. “Can it, Rogers,” he muttered, trying to hide his embarrassment.

Steve just laughed, catching himself before he toppled over. “You know it’s true.”

You chuckled, resting your head against Bucky’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Bucky’s hand found yours again, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. “Neither would I.”

As you all shared a quiet moment, the weight of the years seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of old memories and the comfort of the present. Bucky turned the page, revealing more photographs—snapshots of moments that had once seemed so ordinary but now felt like treasures.

The pages turned slowly, revealing a life that could have been—a wedding dress sketched out, a house with a picket fence, names of children that never came to be. And then, the photographs—snapshots of moments frozen in time. Peggy’s bright smile, Mrs. Rogers’ kind eyes, the mischievous grins of Becca and Winnie, Howard’s confident stance, the Commandos’ camaraderie. But the most frequent faces were your own, Bucky’s, and Steve’s, from a time when the world was both simpler and infinitely more complex.

Each image told a story. There was one of you and Steve dancing at a neighbourhood block party, both of you laughing so hard you could barely stand. Another showed Bucky in his military uniform, giving you a wink as he prepared to head off to basic training. Then there were pictures of Steve and Bucky goofing around, each trying to outdo the other in some silly stunt, and you caught in the middle, rolling your eyes but smiling all the same.

There were pictures of Bucky and you around the campfire on the night before everything changed—before he fell off the train. Bucky paused on that photo, his eyes lingering on it. “That was the night before…” he said softly.

You nodded, squeezing his hand, understanding the weight of those words.

“Night before what?” Sam asked, his voice gentle.

“Before I fell,” Bucky replied, those three words carrying a lifetime of pain and loss. The room grew still, the significance of that moment hanging heavy in the air. Sam didn’t say anything more, sensing the depth of emotion in Bucky’s words.

Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on the photo, his voice quiet as he continued. “It was the last time I felt so much joy… I feel it now, but it was different then.”

Steve nodded in agreement, his expression solemn. “I get it, Buck.”

“Me too,” you added, your voice trembling slightly. “I keep thinking about what was supposed to be, what should have been.” You paused, wiping a tear from your eye. “I don’t understand why it all happened the way it did—why I didn’t get the life I thought I was going to.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, his hand gently reaching out to wipe away your tears, his touch as tender as it had always been.

The room fell into a reverent silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts, the weight of your shared history settling over you like a heavy blanket. Finally, Sam spoke, his voice soft and full of understanding. “You’ve lived a hell of a life.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you wiped away a stray tear. “It wasn’t what I planned,” you admitted, your voice thick with emotion. “But I wouldn’t trade it. Not if it meant losing this—losing you… both of you.”

Bucky’s hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “We didn’t get the life we dreamed of, but we got each other. And that’s enough.”

Steve leaned back, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “We’ve been through so much, but we’re still here. Together.”

Sam smiled, the warmth in his expression offering a quiet reassurance. “That’s what matters in the end. Not what you lost, but what you’ve kept.”

“Till the end of the line,” Steve spoke, the words heavy with emotion and depth.

“Till the end of the line,” Bucky echoed, pulling you closer to his side.

You glanced around the room at the faces of the people who had become your family—the ones who had stood by you through the darkest of times.

As the pages of the scrapbook turned, the photographs shifted from black-and-white to colour, reflecting the passage of time. The images grew fewer as the years became harder, but each one was more precious because of it.

Finally, you reached the last page, where an empty space awaited a new photograph. You looked up at Bucky and Steve, both of them gazing at the book with a mix of nostalgia and gratitude.

“You should take a new photo,” Sam suggested, his voice soft but certain. “One to mark this moment.”

Bucky nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that melted away the years. “Yeah, we should.”

Steve grinned. “I’ll get the camera.”

As Steve stood to retrieve a camera, you leaned into Bucky, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand. This was the life you had, and it was more than enough. The empty space in the book was no longer a reminder of what was lost, but a promise of what was yet to come—a new chapter, filled with love, laughter, and the people who mattered most.

Sam took the camera from Steve, ready to take the picture. But just as he was about to snap the shot, you paused. “Wait!”

“What? You don’t have food in your teeth, but your hair…” Sam teased with a smirk.

“Well, I was going to say I want you in the picture too, but…” You trailed off

“No, no! I’m sorry, you’re beautiful… perfect—”

“Sam, watch it, that’s my girl,” Bucky warned, a protective edge to his voice.

Sam rolled his eyes, chuckling. “The whole world knows that, Buck.” He placed the camera on the tripod and took a seat beside Steve. “You sure you want me in this?”

“Of course, Sammy! You’re one of us now,” you insisted, smiling warmly at him.

Sam’s expression softened, and he nodded, touched by your words. As the camera clicked, capturing the four of you together, you knew that this was the memory that would fill that final page—the proof that even after everything, you still had your boys, old and new, and they still had you.

The book might never hold the life you once dreamed of, but it would hold the life you had lived—the one you had fought for, the one you had loved.

And that was more than enough.

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Changing Tides

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 6790

Summary: You and Bucky get paired together for undercover missions a lot because it works beautifully, despite the fact that you don't really even interact at home.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, limited use of Y/N, LOTS of pet names (pretty girl, baby, i think baby girl, my girl etc), praise kink, oral f. receiving, slight angst, reader is in denial for a good bit of this, angst if you squint, reader is a part of the team, this piece takes place in an AU where everyone lives together and everything is happy

A/N: Oh. My. God. I did NOT intend for this to be this long, at one point I thought I was going to have to make this a two-parter but I got it all in here. I really enjoyed writing this, please let me know what y'all think!! :)))

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

Hues of velvety violet and radiant amber mixed, painting the evening sky like a scene out of a museum. The scent of warm sea salt was still palpable in the air, the crystal like water of the wide-expanding ocean reflected the light of the setting sun. Dancing specs of light could be seen in the darker shades of the sky, stars bright and clear against the inky color.

The cold metal of the hotel balcony pressed against your exposed skin, shirt having risen up as you leaned over it slightly. The view was beyond breathtaking, something you would argue belonged on a movie screen. It was serene, offering a moment of reprieve from the typical chaos you endured in a day, and a distraction from the man currently sitting in the hotel room behind you.

Hate didn’t describe the emotions you felt for the brunet. On a daily basis, there was an underlying disinterest but every now and then a seething annoyance would bubble at the mere thought of the former soldier. You couldn’t pin-point why. Bucky himself had never done anything to wrong you after his rehabilitation and reintroduction into society, and you could easily say nothing the Winter Soldier had done counted towards your feelings.

The odd part of it all is the Bucky and you worked well together, great even. More often than not, you found yourself partnered with Bucky on just about every mission the two of you had; from quick in and out missions to undercover operations like the one you were on now. The communication was great, the two of you easily fell into a rhythm and could read each other’s body language like you’ve known each other your whole life. It was easy to slip into a faux-domesticity with him, which was a stark contrast to the daily life you lived.

The day to day with Bucky involved a lack of any form of contact. You’d avoid the gym if he was in it, would eat in silence if the two of you happened to be in the kitchen at the same time, eye-contact was consistently avoided - Really, the only time the two of you were seen together at home was during group training sessions and team-building nights. You were sure to never make it awkward for the rest of the team, never bad mouth or be outwardly annoyed at Bucky’s presence, you just really couldn’t care less if he was there or not. 

“Sweetheart,” his voice carried from the room, light and sweet, almost intoxicating with a feeling instantly having your gut turn and catch your skin aflame, “Did you want to go out for dinner tonight or just order room service?” His voice got nearer as he moved to join you on the balcony.The cool metal prosthetic wrapped around your waist as he stood next to you.

A soft hum left your lips, gaze moving from the horizon to the prosthetic then to Bucky’s face. He adorned a slight scruff, long hair pulled back into a low bun; His eyes nearly twinkled as they reflected the setting sky in the distance, he wore soft maroon button down and black chinos that truly made him look like a normal, well-off guy. Tony and Peter had finally managed to perfect the color needed to make Bucky prosthetic look like a normal arm which easily sealed the deal on assuring that there was nothing major that could be easily spotted to dox the two of you as agents. 

The flight to Morocco was long and the next 10 days were easily going to be even longer, the last thing you wanted to do was be anywhere but a soft bed. “Room service,” you replied, matching the tone he had asked the question with. You leaned your head against his shoulder, moving your gaze back to the ocean, “Did you do a room check and get our things set up?”

He nodded, “Everything inside is clear and put away,” he squeezed your side softly when he said inside, a subtle emphasis to communicate where it was safe to not be in character. “I’ll go order the room service, you can go shower and get comfortable. I know how much you hate the airport.” He chuckled softly at the end, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline before making his way back inside. 

You let out a soft sigh, making it inside as well and closing the balcony door behind you as you did. This really was going to be a long 10 days. 

**

The bitter taste of the wine nearly made your mouth water, sitting somewhere between too intense and the perfect thing to take the edge off. The first full day had been smooth, an easy itinerary of walking and exploring the city. From the outside, the two of you easily looked like a love sick couple; matching clothes, a large diamond in your hand, Bucky always opening the door for you and your soft smile that just couldn't seem to leave you face; but in reality you had been mapping the city, learning the back alley ways and locating any ports that may be needed for a quick exit. 

The small patio of the restaurant adorned a handful of tables, lanterns lighting the area in a soft romantic glow, lucious plants filling in any space, the open space allowed for ease of blending into the crowd while watching any passerby on the street. Bucky had taken up a game of footsie with you, chattering along about some of the shops you had passed along the way.

“Is there any shop you’d want to make your way back to?” Bucky took a sip of the wine in front of him, eyes fixed on you intently.

A soft hum left your lips, swaying your head back and forth softly as you thought. “Well, I wanna hit up the history and art museum, so maybe we could see if there’s any other cute shops there? If not, I’d definitely like to look at the jewelry store and bookstore we passed on the way here.”

“Mmm, I do think it’s time to get my pretty girl a new necklace,” the words fell off Bucky’s tongue like he sweet talked you on the daily. 

There was that feeling again, the uneasiness that laid in the pit of your stomach and your skin heated up. Maybe this was why you couldn’t stand Bucky outside of missions, maybe you just didn’t want to deal with this feeling constantly. “You spoil me enough, ya know,” you offered a soft giggle, “I can assure you I don’t need any more jewelry, my love.”

Bucky smirked softly, cocking his eyebrows up at you with a knowing look on his face, “You may not need it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it anyways.”

You shook your head, about to offer a rebuttal as the waiter set your food down in front of you, all thoughts being lost to the amazing sights and smells. “This is easily my favorite part of our trips,” you stated, the distraction of food keeping you from noticing the way Bucky’s gaze stayed on you and a soft smile lingered.

**

Six days of being enveloped in Bucky’s presence, and thankfully it was getting easier by the moment. It had been a smooth operation so far, the information being easy to locate and gather without raising suspicions. As a result, Tony had said to take a day to relax, lay low and assure no one was able to realize there was something more to you two.

Bucky had made a home on the balcony of your hotel, a book in hand and a coffee sat on the little table next to him.He been there since the early morning and it was easily almost noon, not that that you were bothering to check the clock. A day off meant a day of sleep and eating, nothing much more than that. 

However, sleeping wasn't something your body wanted to do so you found yourself with a forgotten movie playing on the television, your gaze consistently going back to him. You weren't sure why, but you couldn't keep your eyes off him. You'd been sitting for the past God knows how long trying to figure out why you couldn't pull your eyes away from him. His hair was down, something he didn't do quite often, almost always finding it easier to have it pulled away from his face. From the angle he was sitting, you could see his light gray button down was still completely unbuttoned, his jean shorts a little too snug around his thighs. He occasionally sipped the coffee that was most likely cold at this point, turning the page of the thick novel occasionally. His lips would purse, eyebrows scrunch occasionally, or a small chuckle, or even a shake of his head as he reacted to the words on the page. 

The wind picked up some, indicating a small rain storm that was destined to his later in the evening was starting to make it's way in. Bucky pulled a hair tie from his pocket, tying his hair into his typical low bun before picking his book back up. And it finally hit you; Fuck he's pretty.

The thought immediately made your body heat up and the instant feeling of something in between shame and excitement sat low in your belly. It was like a well known secret your subconscious kept for years finally made it over the wall of denial in your brain, immediately making your thoughts run wild; Fuck he's so pretty, more than pretty actually. What if this is why we've been weird for some many years? Wait. Why would that make it weird? Wait. Why is it weird? Why do we get along so well on missions and then act so differently at home? Oh My God… Has the team been trying to set us up? 

Shaking your head, you jumped up, apparently too suddenly because Bucky broke his concentration on his book to glance over at you. You could feel he was watching you move around, the only thought in your head now was to get out for some fresh air as you deciphered the flood of thoughts. You grabbed some fresh clothes, slipping into the bathroom with a heavy sigh once the door was closed. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, attempting to ground yourself. Okay, what the hell is going on? The question kept repeating itself over and over in your head as you slipped into a summer dress, a sage flowy piece that Natasha and you bought for this trip specifically. It was cute, and Nat was right when she said it complimented your skin; definitely different than your normal attire but still comfortable. 

Walking out of the bathroom, you were relieved to find Bucky still where he was when you entered. After slipping on some sandals, you moved towards him, immediately aware of every detail of your very being. "Hey," you kept your voice soft, waiting for him to pull him eyes from the book and look up at you. There was something about how brightly his eyes shone with the golden sun beating down on him, there was a sense of both innocence and mystique, and the instant feeling of safety just from holding his gaze. "I'm heading out to get some coffee, do you want a fresh one? You've been sipping at the same cup for hours now."

Bucky glanced down at the cup, then to his watch, eyes going wide for a moment before a soft chuckle left his lips. "I've been out here for 4 hours already, shit. Yeah, I'd love a fresh one, doll. Thank you." He offered you a soft smile, "Just get me a-"

"A latte with three honeys on the side," you said matter-of-factly, "I could order for you at just about anywhere at this point." It was a teasing joke, one Bucky laughed at, but you instantly cursed yourself for even saying it. 

"We do spend quite a bit of time together," he hummed out, "Did you want to go out for dinner or get room service tonight?" He asked, picking his book back up as he prepared for your departure. 

"Let me see how I feel after I get back. But if we go out, it's your turn to pick. I picked last night." You stated before leaning down to kiss his hairline, still needing to keep up the act just in case someone was managing to spy; or at least that's what you were telling yourself. "I'll see you inna bit."

**

After returning with the coffee, still finding Bucky to be where he was when he left him, it was an instant decision to find a way to give yourself more time a way from the man that had your mind absolutely scrambled. Grabbing a book of your own, you let him know you'd be down by the pool if he needed you, using a quick excuse about wanting some change in scenery before the rain came as you left. 

You weren't entirely sure how long you'd been out there, it couldn't have been too long, but you we're aware you were reading the same page over and over again. The words seemed to mix together, jumbling about and not registering even in the slightest, your brain still attempting to make sense of what you were feeling. 

You never denied that Bucky was attractive, that's admittedly part of what made undercover missions easy. You never denied that you two got along well on missions, but you couldn't explain or pinpoint why you didn't get along at home. Sure, you were never hostile or rude, but it was exactly friendly or outgoing either. No matter how much you thought and walked through your early memories of Bucky, you couldn't make sense of anything. 

At this point, you knew pride was part of the issue. You knew the team would be able to walk you through, at the very least Nat or Pepper or maybe even Steve, but you could never admit to them what you were currently feeling or going through. The only thing you wanted to do, needed to do was to act normal until you got home. Then you could just hide away and go back to not having to interact with the man that was causing you turmoil. 

"There's my pretty girl," Bucky's drawl quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, causing you to jump at the sudden push back to reality. Seeing you jump caused Bucky to chuckle, especially as you turned to glare at him and his bright smile, "It's getting late, baby. We should go get some food." 

He moved to the lounge chair you had made home in, kneeling down next to you so he was eye-level. There was that feeling again, low in the pit of your stomach that had your skin warming. "There's apparently food trucks at a park about not too far. Why don't we head there and get some food to bring back and watch a movie?" 

Instinctively, you reach to tuck a strand of loose hair behind his ear, offering a soft nod and a smile, "That sounds perfect." 

You wanted nothing more than to kiss him, the thought immediately making your already warm skin heat up more, feeling flustered and like a school girl. It's not like you haven't kissed, it was just agreed upon that it was reserved for dire need situations. All other physical touchs; hand holding, forehead kissing, even smacking each others ass was okay to sell the facade that you were a happy couple.  

Bucky picked up on the change, a look of slight worry on his face, "You okay, doll?"

The laugh that left you was slightly anxious, holding the book in your hand up as a quick white lie, "Yeah, you just came down at a particularly… intense scene."

He immediately laughed, kissing your forehead as he stood up. "You're so cute. Let's get going though."

**

The bustling crowds offered a great distraction - Bucky stood proudly by your side, fingers interlocked together and swinging your joined hands softly like a love sick couple. The both of you scanned the crowd, trying to figure out where to go and what to get. 

The lines weren't too long, there were nearly a dozen trucks, and live music playing. The sun was finally setting, more clouds rolling in and bringing in a cooler breeze that allowed for a reprieve from the beach heat. There were benches with umbrellas set up, lantern lights adorning some posts and wires around the lot. It was cute, and if it wasn't for the mission you were still technically on, it would feel so wrong to be here with Bucky. 

After a moment of thought, you looked at Bucky, lips slightly pursed in thought, "I have an idea." You stated matter-of-factly.

He cooked an eyebrows at you, intrigued and slightly amused with your tone, "Let's hear it then."

"Let's get a platter or some random menu item from every truck then go back to the room and eat there." 

Bucky looked around and nodded, "Ya know what, doll, that sounds fantastic. Do you wanna divide and conquer or go one by one?"

It was then that you realized the clouds were darkening, and the rain was definitely going to happen sooner than later. "Let's divide and conquer before the rain comes." 

With a nod of agreement the two of you split, heading to either end of the trucks and working your way to each other. With the lines being shorter, it didn't take too long to get through them all, the both of you holding multiple bags stacked full of food and tied tightly. Quick words were exchanged before you started heading back towards the hotel, hoping to make it back before the rain.

The effort was fruitless though, with just maybe a few hundred feet left before the hotel you were staying at, the cold rain begins to pour down, the dark sky opening up and letting go every ounce of water it was holding on to. With loud gasps from the both of you, and small playful shriek even, you two took off running into the lobby, screeching yourselves to a stop as you entered and stood on the mats in front of the door. You were breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breath; a quick glance to Bucky showed you he was doing the same.

After a few moments, the two of you made eye contact, bursting into immediate laughter. You were both soaked head to toe, the only thing saved was the food. His shoes make a sloshing sound and your feet slid around in your sandals, you clothes clinging to every inch of your bodies. You were easily a sight for sore eyes, but it couldn't have been funnier. 

"Why didn't either of us think about the rain?" You managed to get out through your laughter. 

"Who knows, but let's get upstairs so we can get dry." He managed to respond.

The elevator ride up felt like an eternity, the cold of the AC feeling more intense from your wet skin. Bucky opened the door for you, letting you in first. He set the foot down, immediately kicking off his shoes. "Go shower, get warm. I'll pull out a change of clothes for you and we can swap when you're done." 

Something about the direction made you freeze momentarily, causing him to look up at you, "(Y/N), you're freezing. Go shower. I'm fine to wait." His voice was soft and caring and there was a part of you that wanted to tell him to shower with you. 

In the dim light of the room and the soaking wet clothes made him look even more divine, like he was sculpted from the gods themselves. You nodded, handing him the bags before making your way towards the bathroom. You closed the door, then quickly opening it to call out but he cut you off, "You want an oversized shirt and a loose pair of shorts, gets your ass in the shower." His tone was demanding but still playful. You caught the look in his eyes, mischievous, playful, and a hint of something you didn't want to recognize. 

You kept your shower quick, ready to be in comfortable clothes and a bed with good food. After quickly drying yourself as much as possible, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and stepped out into the bedroom. Bucky stood in only his boxers, his own clothes in one hand while he scrolled through the television with the other. It wasn't the first time you've seen him with this little clothing, but something about it now made your mouth dry and your skin heat up. 

"All yours," you said, grabbing his attention as you moved to the bed where he laid your clothes out for you. 

"Thanks, doll. I'll be quick. You can pick the movie," he tossed the remote onto the bed before disappearing into the bathroom himself. 

You stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before slipping into the clean clothes. Bucky had already made work of getting creative. He pulled the ironing board from the closet and set the food up next to the bed, had fluffed the pillows up into a sitting position, and already gotten drinks for the two of you. By the time you had decided on a movie, Bucky was coming out of the bathroom. 

Immediarely, you mind started short circuiting again. He looked soft. He had on a light blue shirt and a pair of light gray shorts, his hair was towel dried and brushed against his shoulders, a slight wave to the brown locks. He slid in bed next to you, getting himself situated and comfortable before handing over the massive spread of food for you to start digging into. 

After about 20 minutes of eating and watching the movie in a comfortable silence, Bucky turned the volume down some, "Can I ask you a question?" The tone of his voice alone already told you how he was feeling. There was a sense of worry, anxiety almost to him. 

"Of course, what's wrong?" You asked, sitting your food to the side so you could turn to look at him. 

Bucky followed your lead, moving the food he had off the bed as well before taking a drink, trying to have a moment to articulate how he was going to ask what he wanted. Even though Bucky was sure the room wasn't bugged, he knew that there's was never a 100% chance of assuring that. The fact alone could make talking about things outside of the mission difficult, and this one one of those moments.

"How's the trip been for you? I know we haven't been on one in a while and I just want to make sure everything's okay, that we're okay." He had turned fully to look at you now, the worry in his voice making it to his eyes. 

"Oh…" the response was immediate, and you regretted it instantly the second you so that worry on his face grow, "The trips been wonderful, and uh…" You sighed, toying with the blanket around you, "We're fine, yeah. I'm just… not here?" You said, sort of motioning to your head to get the point across.

Bucky cocked his head some, the worry turning to confusion. "Are we going to be okay when we go home?"

That was something you couldn't answer. What was okay. Was okay how you normally act? Was okay something different? Something better? Something worse?

"Uh… maybe?" You offered, immediately wincing at your own words. You sighed deeply, "I don't really know how to explain what I'm feeling."

"Okay," Bucky took a moment, letting you both sit in the uncomfortable silence that was the lull in the conversation. He was doing his best not to become frustrated, he knew there was most likely no easy way for you to communicate what you wanted to say or even what you were feeling, but he's been able to tell for the past couple of days that things, specifically that you, have been off. "What do you know?"

Your gaze met his again, taking a deep breath in to try to gather the courage to say what you needed. "Things feel… different?"

"Different?"

"Different." 

Bucky stared at you for a moment, mind calculating and analyzing has he tried to decipher what you meant. In an instant it all clicked, and you didn't miss the way his lips curled into a quick smirk before his features soften. "Do things feel different when I call you my pretty girl?"

He watched as you immediately became flustered, averting your gaze and watching your chest rise and fall quicker. He thought he had sensed your heart rate quickening throughout the past couple of days, but he had honestly assumed it was anxiety from the mission. He had no reason to think it could be something else; Well, until now. 

"(Y/N)," your name came as firm and demanding, causing you to look at him. The smirk on his face was more evident now, "We can continue this conversation now, or when we get home. But just remember, you're my favorite book to read."

You were instantly lost for words, mouth opening and closing as you processed what he just said to you. Waiting until you were home was going to be far too long, but talking about whatever this was now? Right now when you were flustered beyond belief, that flippant warm feeling filling every valley and curve of your body? 

"Just say the word, doll, and I'll act like everything is normal. I'll go back to watching the movie and eating and ignoring the obivous."

A soft shake of your head was all you could muster as you search desperately for a will to stop the inevitable, or the courage to beg for it. 

"Words, (Y/N). Use your words." 

"I don't want normal." You swallowed, taking a shaky breath you continued, "I don't want this to go back to normal." 

Buckys lips turned to a smile. "You don't want this to stop when we go home?"

You shook you head more feverishly, "No, I - Fuck, what have you done to me?" You groaned out.

"The same thing you've been doing to me for years, I suppose." His tone was matter-of-fact, cool and calm almost. 

"What?" Your eyes had gone wide, mouth dry, and that God forsaken feeling low in your stomach was growing. 

"You heard me. Obviously, we'll have some talking to do when we get home." He chuckled

Bucky moved as if he was going to grab the food, stopping once he heard, "No," come out of your mouth, "No. I want to talk about it now."

He looked back at you, eyebrows raising as to silently ask how.

"I want to…" You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief at yourself before leaning forward, cupping the back of his neck with your hand and pressing your lips to his. 

This kiss was different; It was electricity filled, igniting every nerve in your body. You could feel the heat from your ears to your toes. It was intoxiting and addicting. 

Bucky waisted no time in kissing you back, even letting out a small groan at your sudden assertiveness. His prosthetic hand held onto you waist, the other cupping your face as the two of you broke years worth of tension in one swift motion. Bucky pulled away first, taking in the plumpness of your kiss swollen lips, the sluttering of your lashes as your opened your eyes to look at him, and the darkness of your gaze that was stricken with last. 

He looked just as enthralled, blue eyes dark as the night sky and hooded with desire, cheeks flushed slightly beneath his scruff. It finally clicked what the feeling you've been having all week was. Lust; pure, unadulterated lust for the man who was currently pretending to be your husband.

"Well damn, doll," he offered you a toothy grin, squeezing your waist, "Wasn't expecting that." 

"Sorry-"

"Don't be." He bit his lip, studying your face for a moment, "Whatcha thinking, pretty girl?"

You couldn't help but get flustered, "That I want more. A lot fucking more." You hand moved up from his neck to card through his hair, his breath hitching some as you did. "Please, James, I need more." Your voice had a slight whine to it, something you hoped he wouldn't be able to resist. 

"If I knew you sounded so pretty begging this would've happened years ago," he grumbled before kissing you again. This time though, he re-situated himself, helping you move to straddling him and doing his best to let you still have some semblance of control for now. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you from being able to move away from him.

One of your hands cupped his face, the other running down his clothed chest. You lips move in sink, a squeeze on your hips eliciting a small moan from you that he took advantage of, using your open mouth to slip his tongue in. You could feel the tent in his shorts growing, sitting hard against your core. 

An experimental grind of your hips pulled a moan form the man beneath you; The sound was music to your ears, and enough encouragement to do it again. 

Buckys hands moved, bracing you as he flipped you over to give himself more leverage and take control. Just as he begin to grind himself against you, he moved his lips from your to your neck. He kissed his way down to your pulse point, drinking in the sweet sounds you made. He sucked softly at the skin, moaned himself when you pulled at his hair. 

Any rationale thought was gone at this point, any fears or anxieties you had pushed to the back of your mind as pure pleasure and desire took over the forefront of your thoughts. Once Bucky was sure he would be satisfied with the mark he left on you, he pulled back some to look you in the eye. 

"Are you sure you want this?" He breathed out, offering you an out. 

You nodded so quickly he couldn't help but laugh softly, "God, you look so fucking desperate, doll. You want me to fuck you?" He had a slight tease to his voice. 

Another nod is all you could muster, but that wasn't good enough for him. "Uh uh, come on. Use your words. Need to hear you say it if you want me to do it."

You whined at his demand, pouting at him slightly, "Please."

"Please what?" His tone was more stern now, "If you want to continue, I need to know you actually want this." 

His insistence to make sure you were consenting pulled at your heart strings. You nodded, "Yes, Bucky," you kept your voice soft before adding a slight whine and plea to it, "Please fuck me."

He smiled, kissing you much softer than had had before, "I'd do anything you asked me to." His words sounded like a promise that had you own emotions bubbling up. 

Bucky leaned up for a moment, pulling off his shirt. He motioned for you to sit up and pulled yours off as well, groaning softly when he sat you skin. "Such a beautiful, pretty girl. Look at you," his hands ran up and down your sides and he took in your body before making eye contact with you again, "Most perfect thing I've ever seen, ya know that?" 

He could feel your skin heat up at his comments, watching you squirm. "Take your shorts off, doll." Bucky moved off the bed, kneeling on the floor at the edge, "C'mere." He demanded. 

You aren't going to deny him at this point, feeling yourself so tightly wrapped around his finger that you'd follow him into hell if it meant he kept talking to you like this. Once you were close enough, Bucky grabbed your thighs and pulled you to be perched on the edge on the bed, legs on his shoulders with his eyes level with your core. 

"Look at this sweet little pussy," he squeezed your thighs tight, "You're fucking glistening, doll." He started pressing kisses to your thighs, avoiding the very apace you needed him at. "Smell fucking divine, I just know you're gonna taste even better."

Bucky watched as you already started fishing the sheets, squirming and biting you lip to hold back any noise. He already decided it was his job to make it impossible for you to hold back. Bucky moved his right hand to interlock with yours, taking his left arm and using it to put pressure on your waist, the cold feel of the prosthetic a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. Just as he squeezed your hand, Bucky licked a thick stripe from your core to your clit, genuinely moaning at the taste. 

He wasted no time in drowning himself in your essence. Bucky licked and sucked, offering the occasional nibble, until you were grinding yourself in his face. Once soft gasps and moans were falling freely from you lips, he moved his left hand to your core, the cool digits of his forefinger and ringer figuring prodding your sopping hole. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly as he pushed two fingers in, relishing in the fact that your moans got loud. 

Bucky pulled him mouth away, moving to you thighs and sucking hickies into the soft skin while his fingers worked magic. He already knew your body so well, years of working together on intimate missions allowed him to learn how to tell what you liked versus what you loved. 

After leaving a few marks, he leaned his head against your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes and watching had your chest rose and fell and you head was thrown back in pure pleasure. "I was fucking right. Taste like honey, could drink you up all fucking day." 

He licked a quick stripe again, from where his fingers were to the hilt inside you all the way to your clit. "So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to continue eating your sweet little pussy until you cum all of face then I'm going to fuck you nice and deep so you feel my cock for days."

He chuckled when he felt your walls flutter around his fingers, "You like the sound of that, pretty girl?" He curled his fingers, hitting the spongy spot that had you gasping for air and eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Look, you're already so close to the edge. You better soak me, baby."

Bucky didn't fall short on his word, getting back to work on your clit with his mouth. His scruff added a nice sensation that bordered on pleasurable pain, fingers moving st the perfect pace and curving expertly, mouth switching between sucking and kitten licks. His right had squeezed your own hand, encouraging you to let go for him. 

The pleasure was building quickly, it was intoxicating and inhibition destroying. You leaned up, using your free hand to grab hold of his hair and pull, giving you leverage to grind on his face. Bucky moaned against you, and truly giving you everything he was worth in his determination. 

It didn't take much longer for you to fall over the edge, moaning loudly and body convulsing. Your legs squeezed his head as he continued to work you through your orgasm until you fell back, panting for breath. 

Bucky pulled away, chuckling softly with a proud look in his face. From his nose down, he was absolutely glistening with your slick, "God you're fucking hot, using my face like that." 

Bucky stood, pulling his shorts off, using them to wipe his face some, then tossing them to the side. "Can't wait to see your pretty face when I fill you up. Your gonna take me so good, aren't you?" 

You nodded, already getting worked back up. You sat yourself up before he had the chance to grab you, leaning up and carding your hand through his hair again and guiding his lips to yours. You moaned at the taste of your own cum on his lips, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock, jerking him slowly. 

He pulled away from your lips, breathing in sharp. "Uh uh, doll, you can do that another time," he kissed your forehead, a sweet gesture that was a drastic difference to what was currently happening, "Right now, I wanna be buried inside you, making you cum all over me again. Cmon, lay back down for me."

You stole one more kiss before resuming your prior position. Bucky stood at the edge of the bed, pulling you back to the edge and holding your legs spread wide. "You can tell me to stop at any point," he said softly, "but unless you do that, I'm not stopping until you're thoroughly filled with me."

You nodded, offering a desperate, "Please, Bucky. Want all of you," and moving to hold your own legs up as the extra step to prove how much you wanted this. 

"So fucking perfect," he groaned out. Bucky grabbed his length, teasing your slit a few times to get his thick tip left before finally pushing in. He was slow, listening to your gasp as he stretched you out so nicely. 

Inch by inch, he pushed in until he was bent over you and all the way to the hilt, your lower bodies completely flushed. "You feel fucking amazing around me," he moaned out, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. Just as you were starting to whine, he pulled all the way out before slamming back in, causing you to moan out loudly when you felt him in the deepest parts of you. 

Bucky set a brutal but rhythmic pace, changing it ever so slightly until he heard your moans and whines change to be deeper and louder. He moved one of your legs to his shoulder, which somehow allowed him to go even deeper, alternating between full thrusts and grinding against you. 

He reached down between the two of you, rubbing circles in your clit with his thumb and watching as your whole body begin to shake with intense pleasure. "Look at you," he moaned out, "Better than my wildest dreams. You gonna cum again for me, already doll?" 

He didn't need an answer at this point, he could tell from how your walls were squeezing him that you were close, and as much as he hated to admit it he wasn't far behind you. Bucky kept his movements consistent until he felt you fall over the edge again with a high pitch moan, his hips finally flattering as you squeezed him like a vice, quickly chasing his own high. A few erratic thrusts and he spilled into you with a moan of your name. 

Bucky let your legs down, taking a few deep breaths before pulling out of you. He laughed lightly as you whined at the loss of him. He disappeared to the bathroom, cleaning himself up before bringing back a warm, damp wash cloth to wipe you down with. Bucky pressed softly kisses to yoh skin and he wiped you off, kissing your lips before tossing the cloth to the side and climbing into bed with you. 

He helped you move back to laying normally in the bed, laughing once he noticed the credits of thie movie were rolling. He wrapped and arm around you, pulling you into his side and letting you get comfortable on him."How you feeling, doll?"

"Good, a little weird, but good." You said, voice drenched in exhaustion.

"Weird how?" He asked, rubbing his fingers up and down your back.

"Good weird. Happy things are gonna be different when we get home."

With how you were laying, you missed the way Bucky smiled down at you, "You don't understand how happy it makes me that I'll get to treat you like this all the time."

"Really?" You asked, already finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

"Doll, I've been yours since the moment I met you, someone was just too stubborn to notice her own feelings." He squeezed your side before going back to rubbing your back, "Get some sleep, we can talk in the morning."

[someonegoood]

MY WHOLE LIFE pt. 1 ✫ mason mount

part 1, part 2, final part.

in which you have a fat crush on your brother’s best friend, without getting much success. (brother’s best friends troop).

CONTAINS: brother’s best friend troop, angst & fluff ! age gap, arguments...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this is my first work here but anyways i hope you guys like it ! maybe I'll do a part 2...

You watch proudly in his shirt as you clap in the game's first minutes, chanting while taking pictures of him.

The first half was pretty equal, with some shots from both teams but neither could score. You could see that Mason was getting nervous. He stopped his movements abruptly when the referee called for a corner and looked at the crowd, his eyes sparkling with tenseness.

He gazed down at where his family (and therefore also yours) was and licked his lips. You couldn't help but wonder what would your brother think of your little —huge— crush on his childhood best friend.

In the 34th minute, he passed the defenders and tried to score with a pass from Ben Chilwell, making the goalkeeper lose his balance and thus scoring.

You celebrated the goal screaming it to your brother's face and he couldn’t help but smile at you, happy that you were having a good time. Your cheeks were red after Mason approached the stands and celebrated the goal, dedicating a kiss to where you were.

And that was the effect that Mason Mount had on people, especially you.

Mason was your brother's best friend, you had known him for years. It was a stupid crush that all your friends grew out of but not you. You had to keep drooling every time he was near you, that being almost every day because your brother had him over to dinner nearly every night.

You remember the day the Mount family moved next to your house, a loud and proud British family— Debbie and Tony, Stacey, Lewis and Mason. The day after they had moved in, Debbie and Tony turned up outside your door, asking if your older brother was interested in playing football with Mason.

It didn’t take long for your brother to become close to Mason, both at the cusp of boyhood. Their friendship only bloomed from there.

After spending almost every weekend watching your brother and Mason training, to spending most afternoons around the Mount house playing, you felt like family.

You always found yourself drawn to the boy next door although he was away a lot of the time, playing different matches and training. Mason’s natural affinity and talent for the game, ensured the quality of his skills.

He was slightly older so no doubt he found you childish and would always moan when his parents made him spend time with you.

—Mom, not again! I don't want to play with her, she's boring! —Mason exclaimed with an expression of obvious annoyance on his face.

Mason's mother was the first to figure out your crush on the boy. She first noticed it when you joined the Mounts at a family dinner when you were around thirteen.

Both families were playing football, as usual, while the adults were preparing supper. When you had the ball you felt your body lean way too far back and Mason tried to act on impulse, stretching his body to catch you in time.

—Hold on to me! —Mason exclaimed, extending his arms towards you. However, the weight of the fall was too much, and in an instant, they were both on the grass, in some sort of mess.

—Mase, God, I'm so sorry! I dragged you with me! —you apologized, feeling the blood rise to your cheeks, turning them crimson red.

He brushed the grass off his jacket with an angry expression. —Well done. First minutes into the game and you're already annoying.

—Thanks for trying! —you laughed, shyly. When there was a long silence, you realized that Mason was not joking and was serious. —Sorry, I…

Debbie looked from afar at the little girl carefully while she kept her eyes glued to her son's. She watched her cute little cheeks tinted red as Mason scoffed and begged you to stay away from him.

Debbie would soon get used to it as she watched you fall in love with her son over the next few years.

Until your first boyfriend. An age difference of three years was not a big deal since it was a common factor among your friend's partners. You had recently turned sixteen years old and you thought that you had met the boy who could take you out of the charm that had her wrapped around Mase.

Lyon was older, he was eighteen years old, like Mason. You had met him at school on a spring afternoon. You walked through the school hallways, books clutched to your chest. A gust of wind caused some of the books to fly out of your hands, scattering them across the hallway floor.

Lyon was passing by and noticed the scene. He approached you with a smile and that is how the story started.

Your brother didn't approve of your new boyfriend. He knew that her sister just wanted to show his best friend that the age difference wasn't that important.

Being with Lyon was great at first. You knew that he was not the love of your life, but for the moment he seemed to play the role quite well, so that was fine with you. It was a Friday night and you and your brother were at a party at the house of one of your brother's friends.

You were downstairs in the kitchen while your friends watched you drink alcohol like there was no tomorrow. They realized something was bothering you, but decided not to mention it.

—Where is the lover boy anyway? —Spoke one of your friends.

Your lack of response was when they realized that Lyon was the reason for the sadness that was painted on their best friend's face. He abandoned you, once again. This seems routine, they thought.

You slammed your empty red glass against the kitchen counter, wiping the drip from your chin as you decided that was enough.

—I'll go look for him.

From the corner of the room, your brother wished you good luck and with courage, you stumbled through the party. The house was huge. Enormous windows covered the entire house. From the kitchen window you could see the river of lights going down to the beach.

And there he sat, on the stairs leading to the illuminated outdoor pool, Lyon. A thin blonde girl was sitting on his lap, probably older than you. She took the cigarette from Lyon's lips and placed it on top of her painted red lips.

Tears welled in your eyes as you returned to the house with your heels in hand. With all the bad luck in the world, as you returned, you heard in the background:

—Baby, relax. —You ignored your boyfriend's call as you made your way through the crowd to return to the kitchen, hoping that your brother was still there.

You made it to the kitchen before your boyfriend grabbed you by the back of your arm and pushed you against the kitchen island.

—Come on, I didn't even do anything—

—She was on your lap.

—It's not that serious, okay?—

—It's a big problem! I'm humiliated! —You shouted back, creating a scene you desperately wanted to avoid. Lyon's grip tightened around your arm as he tried to wriggle out of your grasp.

—Let go of me, you're hurting me. —That only made his grip tighten around your arms.

—Let her go, mate. —Your vision was too blurry to focus on what happened next, but you felt Lyon back away.

—Oh yeah?… and what are you going to do about it, Mount? —That's when the punches were thrown and Lyon was left hunched over holding his split lip. Your now ex-boyfriend was grabbed by someone else before he could lunge at who you assumed was your brother, but when you turned your head you saw Mason shaking your hand out of pain.

His knuckles were red and his eyes were darker than what you were used to.

—Let's go to the car. —Said Mason, you nodding your head. —Get in the car. —He said. His tone was strong, not what she was used to.

Still, the ride to your house was silent, you sitting in the front with Mase, while your brother passed out in the back seat. Faint English music played on the radio as Mason's eyes were firmly fixed on the road.

Mason finally spoke. —You really don't know how to choose them, don’t you? — You could only sob again, unable to answer him mainly because he was right and you were ashamed. When the car stopped, he unbuckled his seat belt and murmured that he would walk you to your door.

Mase rocked on his heels as he watched the moonlight highlight the tear-stained cheeks of his best friend's sister. He thought you looked beautiful that night even though you had been crying for the last half hour, your hair hadn't been brushed, and you were digging through your purse like crazy.

Although he would never admit it.

—I got them! —You laughed, waving your keys in the air before bumping your nose with the keychain. You paused as you pushed the key into the door, turning to look Mason in the eye for the first time since the party.

—Thank you. —Mason didn't want to hear it. You were just her best friend’s sister.

—It's no big deal. —

—No… really thank you, Mason. —you smiled and Mason listened too, mainly because it was probably the first time you had called him Mason and not Mase.

After a moment, you dropped your bag to the floor and wrapped your arms around the boy's waist, your head resting on his chest as he quickly moved his hand and rubbed your back.

—Just... make sure the next one isn't a complete idiot, yeah? —he whispered, his chin resting on the top of your head.

That sentence broke your poor little heart.

[lostgirlmuseum]

Bucky vs. Book

^Bucky on his way to you fr^

Summary: Bucky rushes to your aid when he finds out you’re upset. He’s never seen you this distraught before.

Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

Words: 600 (I don’t think I have ever written something this short before wth)

Warning: It’s kinda angst?? But mostly fluff. 

A/N: Sorry I haven’t been on much lately, school is keeping me busy. I wrote this pretty quickly and it’s just a short little treat while I’m in the middle of writing a mini series. Idk when I’ll finish writing it, but it prob won’t be done this month. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Divider credit: @cafekitsune

“Bucky?” Sam asked.

“M’ busy.” Bucky mumbled, curling a barbell like it was a dumbbell.

“Someone just informed me they heard crying coming from your girl’s room.”

“What?” Bucky dropped the barbell on the ground with a loud thud. 

“Move, out of the way!” Bucky yelled, nearly knocking Sam over as he started sprinting to the gym exit.

Bucky ran so fast that he was bumping into walls and hitting corners, trying to locate the nearest stairs. 

He took the stairs by three, his heart hammering against his chest, his ears on high alert in case he could hear you calling for him.

Finally, he made it to your room, and swung the door open without a second thought, just needing to know if you were okay. Bucky’s wide eyes spotted you instantly, curled into yourself on the rug, tissues littering the floor, sobbing. He had never seen you so upset.

He wasted no time sliding onto his knees and to you.

“Doll? Doll, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?” He tried to lift your chin to see your beautiful face, but you barely acknowledged him, your puffy eyes cast down.

“My h-heart,” you choked, clutching your chest.

“Are you having a heart attack?” He couldn’t stop himself from sliding his hands all over you, checking for injuries.

“I feel– s-so sad,” was all you could make out between sobs.

“Baby, who hurt you?” He was panicking, he needed to know what happened, why you were so distraught so he could fix it. 

“Stupid book!” You cried, and flung yourself at him, holding him close, and tucking your head into his chest. Bucky immediately reciprocated, wrapping his big arms around you, squeezing you tight, one hand brushing your hair.

That’s when he noticed the outline of a book under a couple tissues.

“It’s not fair,” you cried, body shaking with each breath.

“I know, I know,” he soothed. He, of course, did not know, but he was enormously relieved to see the perpetrator was only a book. 

“They were supposed to end up together! They were p-p-per–” You squeezed him tighter, struggling to get the words out. “Perfect together! Why did the author ruin it? It’s not fair, it’s not fair, they deserve to be happy!” 

“Shhh,” he whispered, starting to rock you back and forth.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered through another cry, and collapsed fully into him.

“It’s not,” Bucky echoed.

Eventually your cries quieted and slowed, and Bucky kissed your forehead and let go of you. You barely had time to question what he was doing when he picked up the book from behind you and started to pretend to punch it. 

“Bad book,” he chastised, “you made my baby cry. Nobody makes my baby cry,”

You couldn’t help but giggle, and wipe the remaining tears from your eyes.

Bucky continued to scold it, and even positioned himself to body slam it.

“Bucky,” you full on laughed, “stop,”

“Not until it apologizes,” he grumbled, faking a chokehold on it. “Oh, shit–” Bucky rolled onto his back and held the book above him, acting out a struggle. “It’s got me baby, help!”

Giving in to his shenanigans, you leaned over and grabbed the book from his hands, and gave it your own weak punch. 

“Fuck you, book,” You sniffed and laughed.

“It can’t hurt you anymore,” Bucky said, patting your back. 

“Thank you, Bucky,” 

“I’ve got you, doll.”

“Why are there dents in all the walls?” Tony’s raised voice could be heard all the way from the floor below.

You looked at Bucky.

“What?” He smiled cheekily. “You needed me.”

Thank you for reading!

My Masterlist if you'd like to check my other stuff out :)

Oh oh and this is inspired by my reaction to Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. I hate that book so much. I love that book so much.

[wwilsonbarness]

I messed up.. (part 2)

pairings:  bucky barnes x reader

summary: Bucky tries to apologise for the things he said... do you accept?

warnings: angstttt, some fluff, anxiety?, idkk i think that's all :)

word count: 2535

a/n: I'm so sorry it took so long for part 2. I hated what I first wrote and my week ended up super busy. I'm so scared to post this lmao I hope it doesn't disappoint!

Feedback, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, reposted or translated on any other platform.

part one

masterlist

Sam insisted you took it easy for the rest of the night, he brought you dinner in bed, checked on you every hour, and brought you everything you could need. You appreciated it but at the same time you just wanted to lay in bed alone and cry. For the first few hours it was out of sadness, seeing Bucky that angry with you made your chest ache, the thought of disappointing him was something you couldn’t handle, but as the hours passed the sadness slowly turned into anger. The more you replayed his words in your mind the angrier you got, how could he imply you didn’t care about your baby? 

Ever since you were a little girl yourself you had wanted to be a mom, it was your dream and Bucky knew that.You had both spent countless nights talking for hours on end about how excited you were to have a baby together, you thought he was excited too but were you and your baby just a burden to him? A problem he had to sort out? Did he even want this?

Hours had passed and you were starting to drift to sleep when you heard voices outside your bedroom door. Part of you wanted to stay in bed and ignore whoever it was but when you heard Bucky’s voice you jump out of bed. 

“I just want to check if she's okay.” You hear Bucky’s voice through the door, slightly louder than he normally speaks, a clear sign he was getting frustrated. You hear a second voice but you can’t figure out who it is until you move closer, it was Sam.

“You… chance..screwed up..” It’s muffled but you can guess what he said. You keep walking closer to the door and go to open it as you hear a third voice. 

“Barnes, you need to leave her be, you’ve done enough tonight.” That was definitely Tony, he was the only one to call Bucky by his last name. 

You weren’t ready to face Bucky yet but you didn’t want to have to listen to them arguing any longer so you opened the door, to be faced with Bucky standing right in front of you, Tony to the side of him and Sam a few doors down outside his room. 

“Can you guys argue somewhere else please?” Bucky’s head flys round at the sound of your voice. He instantly looks you up and down, focusing on your bump for a few seconds longer than anywhere else, which reminds you of how he had looked at you earlier. You bring your hand up to your stomach without realising. 

“Doll, are you okay?” You could see the concern in his eyes this time but you couldn’t get past the anger you were feeling. 

“I’m fine, Bucky. I just want to sleep so can you three go somewhere else if you’re gonna shout at each other.” Bucky’s face started to lighten up in relief for a second but tensed up again as you continued. 

“I’m sorry, can we please talk?” He starts to walk closer to you but you flinch and move backwards into your room. You weren’t scared of him but you couldn’t handle this tonight. Bucky’s face drops as he watches you move away from him. “Doll I just want to-” 

“I don’t have the energy tonight Bucky, please can you just leave me alone.” You look at each other for a few seconds before you plead again, “Please.” Bucky slightly nods his head but you don’t wait for any other type of response before you close your door. 

You lean your head against the door as it shuts, taking a deep breath in as an attempt to keep yourself calm. You hear Bucky and Tony throw a couple more sentences at each other, resulting in Tony asking F.R.I.D.A.Y to lock your door to anyone but him and Sam. You didn’t want to shut Bucky out but the things he said to you really hurt your feelings and if you were to talk to him about it now you would end up saying things you regret. You just wanted and needed time to yourself to calm down. You climb back into bed and go to sleep to try and forget about the whole situation, it takes a few hours but sleep finally washes over you. 

You could only sleep for a few hours before your morning sickness hit. Without Bucky there to help you like every other morning it was a lot harder to deal with. After sitting beside the toilet for a few minutes you manage to run yourself a bath and relax for a bit. You wanted to put off talking with Bucky as long as you could, you knew he’d already be awake as he was every day, probably in the kitchen making breakfast. 

You hear a knock at your door as you're in the bath which brings you out of your thoughts about Bucky, but when you reach the door all that’s there is a tray with waffles, fruit and orange juice on it. You pick it up and place it on your desk to find a note, recognising Bucky’s handwriting straight away you pick it up.

I’m sorry for everything I said and did. I want to make it up to you when you are ready to talk. I know you’ve probably been unwell this morning so I hope this makes you feel better. I put some gummy bears on the waffles since I know you’ve been craving sweet things. I love you and baby so much - Buck x 

You feel your eyes tear up as you read each word, and even though you’re mad at him all you want in this moment is for Bucky to hold you. You quickly get dressed and start to walk towards the kitchen, hoping he’s still there. To your luck he was still hovering around the cooker cleaning up his mess from cooking breakfast.

“Buck?” His head whips around at lightning speed to the sound of your voice. He takes one step towards you before stopping himself, remembering how you reacted last night. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you more.

“Doll, are you okay?” 

“Mhmm, can we talk?” Bucky lets out a huge breath he wasn’t aware he was holding as you speak, he wants nothing more than to talk to you. 

“Of course doll, wanna sit over here?” He points his hand towards the couch in the corner of the room. You nod your head and walk over. When you both sit down it’s quiet for a few minutes, both of you equally scared to break the silence until Bucky speaks. 

“Are you scared of me?” He asks, tone soft as if he’s scared of what the answer might be.

“No, Bucky I’d never be scared of you.” His shoulders start to relax in relief but not for long as you continue. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you.” 

“I am so so sorry y/n, I promise you I didn’t mean anything I said, I was just scared which I know isn’t an excuse but it’s the truth. My worst fear is losing you, and now with the baby on the way I’m even more scared of losing you both. When I heard Sam telling Tony and Nat that you were seen with a bump it was.. It was like my brain just took over, I kept imagining you being hurt and I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if that happened. I can’t lose you, either of you. If you let me, I promise I will try my best to make things back the way they were.” 

Bucky’s speech took you off guard, you were expecting and hoping to speak first so you could get everything out while you felt able to, you had to try so hard to hold back your tears. You could tell he was sorry and honestly part of you just wanted to say it’s okay, tell him you forgave him, that everything was fine but the other part of you was still focused on his horrible words yesterday, and you knew things would never be okay again unless you told him how he made you feel. “I just need to get this off my chest Bucky, I know you’re sorry but I still need to say this. He nods his head to show he understands you.

You take a deep breath and prepare yourself to speak. “First off, I just want to make it completely clear, that” you bring your hand to your stomach and cup the small bump you have, “I love and care so much for this baby, more than anything or anyone else in the world. So when you said that to me, said that I.. That I didn’t care, it really really hurt me. I know I went against what we agreed, I know I scared you, but that didn’t give you a right to talk to me the way you did.” 

“I kno-” Bucky tries to respond but you don’t let him. Your voice is beginning to shake and there are tears starting to fall from your eyes. Bucky’s heart was breaking at seeing you so upset.. all because of him.

“No, please let me finish. I.. I know you care about me and our baby, I know you do but you went way too far. You were so worried about other people hurting me you didn’t realise that you were the one doing it.” 

You can hear Bucky swallow deeply as he listens, his eyes growing wetter with every word, it was hard for him to hear but he knew everything you were saying was true. He had done the one thing he swore he never would, he hurt you and he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself for it. “You promised me that you would never hurt me, and I believed you.” Your voice cracks with your last words, and the tears finally escape. “You made me feel like we were burdening you, like we were just a problem to you, something you had to deal with.”

Bucky desperately wants to reach out and comfort you but he stops himself. He keeps his eyes locked with yours and you nod your head a little, a silent way of telling him that it was his turn to talk. He nods back and readies himself, he had a lot he wanted to say but now he’d heard how much he had hurt you, it was like his brain had forgotten everything. 

“You have to know that you both are the most important people in my life, you could never be a burden to me, ever. I'm so sorry I made it feel that way. Y/N I know I hurt you, I want.. I need you to know that when I made that promise I meant it, I’ve never intended to hurt you, and for the rest of my life, as long as you’ll have me I promise, with every single part of me that I will care and love for you and our baby.” You are starting to choke up at what he is saying but try so hard not to let it show. 

“I’m not going to lie to you, I’ll always be scared of something happening to you both and nothing’s gonna ever change that, but I know now that I need to find other ways of working through that. I’ll do anything it takes for you to forgive me. I want to be there for you and our baby forever.” He looks down to your bump, his gaze softens, a slight smile grows, and with a quiet, soft voice he continues. 

“I can’t wait to see you be a mom, you’re gonna be the best there is. I really mean it, our baby is so lucky to have you as a parent.” When he looks up he tries to understand how you’re feeling but your face is pretty much blank, you were in shock. You’d only been in two relationships before Bucky but not once had either of them apologised for something they did, now Bucky was practically begging you to forgive him, you didn’t know how to take it. You just knew you couldn’t lose him.

“Buck.. As much as I hate how you spoke to me, I don’t want to let this argument get between us, I want things to change. I know you are scared and I understand that.. I’m scared too, but we can get through it together. We are strong enough to not let this break us apart, okay?” 

Bucky lets out a huge breath he didn’t even realise he was holding in. “Doll, I want nothing more than for us to be okay.” 

You stand up and put your hand out towards him, “Come on, I got you something.” He hesitantly grabs your hand, and follows you to your room. Just as you reach the door he stops, and drops his hand out of yours. “Bucky.. It’s okay you can come in.” 

“Are you sure?” He asks hesitantly.

“I’m positive.” He smiles slightly at your answer then follows you in.

“I got youu…” You trail your words out as you dig for his gift. “This.” You pass him the teddy, expecting to smile but instead he frowns, rubbing his thumb over each word as he reads it. 

“You don’t like it?” you ask him, taking a seat next to him. 

“I do,” He forces a smile out, “I’m just worried I won’t be a good dad. I’m just scared doll.” He looks up to you again and sees your eyes still glossy, and he feels he has to defend his words. “I am excited, please know I am. I just don’t wanna mess up again.” He reaches out to touch your stomach and you see him hesitating so you put your hand on top of his and gently push it onto your stomach.

“It’s gonna be okay Buck, I trust you.” You lay your head on his shoulder and cuddle into him, “We’re gonna be okay.” 

“I love you both so much.” 

“And we love you too.” Just as you finish speaking your stomach rumbles, which startles Bucky.

“Oh my god. Was that the baby??” 

You had to hold in your laughter as you replied to him, it was way too early for the baby to kick. “No Bucky, I’m just hungry.” He follows your gaze to the tray with the breakfast he made you. 

“Dolll… you didn’t eat?” You shake your head and Bucky stands up and brings it to bed.”Wanna share?” 

“Of course.” He picks up a gummy bear but before he can put it in his mouth you grab it.

“Hey!” He looks at you confused. 

“Sorry,” you say between your giggles, “you aren't getting any of the gummy bears, baby wants all of them.” 

“Oh yeah? Baby wants all of them? Sureee.” You were both laughing now, as you tried to get all the gummy bears before him.

tags: (tagging everyone who was interested, sorry if I miss anyone!)

@missvelvetsstuff @learisa @pattiemac1 @satanstittyss @opheliabarnes @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @kandis-mom @lokislady82 @k4t13l0u1s3 @jbbarnesgirl @nikkivillar @sarahjoestewy-blog @aboobie @queerqueenlynn @shabanggg @topguncultleader @wintrsoldrluvr @invalid-croissant @ada728 @that-girl-named-alex @spoopiloops @mayusenpai666 @paarthurnax59 @cl7ire @hereforfun22-blog @almosttoopizza @trixiekaulitz @aweleyirene @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @mavrellover91 @yeselmolovesyou

[please-destroy]

Remnants

Third and final part of a series. First fic here, second fic here.

This is the same Natasha and the original reader.

.

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 3k

.

Fear, pain and grief are three connected emotions.

.

Fear is the prospect of losing someone you love.

Pain is the moment they are taken from you.

Grief is when you are left alone.

.

When you first got sick, you experienced the fear. The certainty that you were going to lose everyone, everything. 

You tried to hurry through the pain, taking control of it before it controlled you.

Natasha loved you too well. You couldn’t let her die alongside you.

You were not ready for grief. But the thought of Natasha being left alone was unbearable. When you asked her to leave, you were trying to be brave.

.

You’d never minded eating alone before, but now all you did was stare at the empty chair that used to be hers.

Even when you were alone, Natasha stayed in your veins.

You waited to die. You told yourself you were ready. Somehow, with fewer days ahead of you, you didn’t want to wake up in the morning.

Natasha stopped calling you eventually. Her last voicemails were pleading, but they were also resigned. 

Wanda stopped trying to visit. 

You grieved for your life before you were dead.

.

It was nearly a month waiting on your own, before Tony came by unexpectedly. He was matter of fact. 

He convinced you to join an experimental drug trial.

It probably wasn’t going to work but researchers needed guinea pigs. He looked you up and down and smirked like you weren’t a walking tragedy.

‘What’s the worst that can happen?’ He pointed out.

You agreed readily enough. You didn’t care about anything anymore. Risky medical experiments were not daunting when you were already waiting to die. 

It was time for the hospital anyway. Your walking wasn’t good anymore.

Tony didn’t tell you that it was a late stage trial for Stark Industries. He didn’t tell you that you were the only test subject.

You didn’t think to ask about something as unlikely as it working. You only had one question.

‘What did she say about it?’

‘We don’t talk about you.’ Tony answered succinctly. When his eyes flickered away, you suddenly understood.

Natasha was dating someone else.

Of course, it was when you finally stopped wanting to live, that your luck turned around. 

.

A week after the initial treatment, you started walking easier. That was the first sign. 

It didn’t happen overnight, they let you out of the hospital after four months. 

.

You had your life back and it was anticlimactic.

You went back to your apartment and the place felt caked in your illness.

You hadn’t seen Natasha in six months. You hadn’t planned for this outcome. Neither had she, not after your insistence. 

You’d done the unforgivable because you hadn’t ever expected to need forgiveness.

.

At night you dreamed of Natasha, over and over again. Lying on warm beaches, crying at your grave, kissing strangers. 

You wanted to be selfish. You wanted to feel alive. Natasha’s touch still burned through your veins. 

You called her.

The number was disconnected.

You sat on your kitchen counter and dialled another number. Tony answered after one ring.

You hadn’t spoken to him since that day at your apartment. You’d ignored texts and calls without thinking about it.

When you’re dying, you have the privilege of ignoring consequences. You didn’t have that luxury anymore.

Tony told you to go fuck yourself three times over before he addressed your question.

‘On behalf of Natasha. Go fuck yourself.’

He hung up and never answered again. 

Wanda never picked up. She ignored your texts. It felt worse, a different guilt lingered with her. A realisation of all the resentment that she’d been holding back just to be kind to you. You’d been dying and now you were being left on read.

.

You tried to find some way to move forward.

You still looked unwell, so you started there. 

You walked further every day. You started cooking again. You cleaned the air of sickness from your apartment. 

The emptiness lingered in the space beside you in your bed.

You went to the store and bought groceries like you might live until the end of the week.

.

A month later, and ironically the grocery store was where you found her.

You saw Natasha ahead of you in the bread aisle.

It took you a moment. She didn’t look like Natasha anymore. 

At first, you thought she was sick. 

Her skin looked alien under the supermarket lights. Her hair wasn’t washed, scraped back in a ponytail that hung limp.

Her shoulders were hunched forward and she looked too small. She scanned the shelf and her gaze was deadened. Exhaustion clung to swollen eyes, red rimmed from too much crying.

Natasha didn’t see you.

Her movements were jerky. You felt an aching certainty that she must be sick too.  

She looked thinner. Worryingly frail. 

You’d seen yourself once in a mirror at the hospital. The sights were comparable. 

Air left your chest as her pain sunk in. You’d stumbled on another way that the world could end.

Natasha turned around automatically at your exhale. 

For a moment, her empty eyes trailed over you unseeingly. 

Time passed in slow motion as she recognised you. You watched Natasha’s eyes widen, watched the shock steamroll through her. She moved like there’d been a blow to her chest.

As if her legs no longer worked, you watched her crumple to the ground. You reached out instinctively but Natasha cried out hoarsely. Her own arms moved in some attempt to shield herself.

You flinched back, afraid of her fear. Afraid of consequences, like always.

Natasha was disoriented, she told you that you weren’t real. Her voice was scratchy like old vinyl. You could hear how much she’d been crying.

You couldn’t speak, words were trapped in your throat. 

You sat down on the peeling linoleum, keeping a careful distance. Eventually, Natasha went quiet and sat staring at you, gripping her knees.

Other shoppers passed you awkwardly. The pair of you clearly designated as crazy but no immediate threat.

‘You died.’ Natasha said directly, voice cracking open with fresh pain. She buried her face against her knees and you watched her shoulders begin to shake.

You started quietly, telling her the story of the last six months in unnecessary detail, as if that could excuse what you’d done.

Natasha kept her face pressed against her knees. She hummed sometimes as her shoulders convulsed with repressed sobs. Your story petered out pathetically. A store assistant hovered nervously by the eggs, trying to catch your eye.

He fled when you shook your head pointedly. You turned your attention back to Natasha. Her back was arched and you saw how her spine stood out through her old grey t-shirt. She was too thin now. The shirt had once been yours.

You’d made her sick. 

You shuffled closer. Your hand touched her scuffed sneaker. Natasha shuddered. 

‘I’m alive.’ You told her. ‘I promise you, I’m alive.’

You managed to hook your hand under her arm, helping her shakily to her feet. Natasha kept trembling next to you. She felt icy under the thin fabric. You deserted the shopping carts and led her out of the building. 

Natasha threw up violently on the gravel outside the store. 

She started crying again and her breaths came and went faster. You knew she was on the verge of spiralling panic.

‘Can I call someone?’ You asked her softly. Natasha flinched again and stumbled. You lurched forward trying to steady her. Natasha choked on a sob.

‘I don’t have a phone.’ She told you disorientedly. ‘You didn’t call me. You never called.’

Natasha broke out of your grip and the tears started coming silently again. 

You took another step forward and Natasha backed herself against the brick outer wall of the supermarket.

You felt like something infectious.

You whispered an apology and Natasha gave you a nauseated look.

‘I can’t leave you like this.’ You murmured.

You watched a curtain of fresh hurt fall over Natasha’s eyes. Her jaw tightened. 

‘Of course you can.’ Natasha spat and she rubbed fiercely at the tear stains on her cheeks.

You didn’t leave. You couldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Natasha’s fingernails dragged along her arms in an erratic motion.

You had nothing to say. You couldn’t ask for what you didn’t deserve. 

Natasha stared at you, jaw clenched so tight that it hurt to look at. You saw the goosebumps flaring next to the red marks on her arms. 

You removed your sweatshirt and threw it across the space between you. Natasha jerked back unnecessarily as the soft grey fabric landed by her feet.

You pretended not to see her eyes flicker over your exposed arms. You knew you didn’t look sick anymore. It was strange to have it confirmed.

Natasha picked up the sweater and her breath caught as she gripped it tightly.

She pulled it over her head in one hurried motion. Strands from her ponytail wisped around her face as she turned away from you purposefully. You watched her bring the sleeve to her face and breathe deeply. 

You watched her shake with soft cries now.

‘Natasha.’ You tried with a hesitant step forward.

Natasha didn’t respond.

You took another step forward.

When you touched Natasha’s shoulder, she stiffened for a second until another sob wracked through her. Silent tears blinded you too.

You hadn’t escaped grief and neither had she. Not really. All you’d managed to do was give Natasha more pain.

You said her name quietly and all at once Natasha turned around.

Her eyes were screwed tightly shut as she buried her face into the crook of your neck . You felt her cling to your own thin t-shirt now, her nails scraping against your skin. 

You held her carefully. She didn’t feel like Natasha anymore.

Too thin, too small and too broken.

You thought you’d already survived everything that could kill you. 

But Natasha’s wet cries burned across your chest. 

You couldn’t comprehend her pain. You choked on the unanswerable guilt of what you had done.

Natasha pressed herself even harder into your front and you realised that she was on the verge of hysterics again. She inhaled raggedly and rapidly. You felt every breath against your skin. 

You wanted to be absolved of this feeling. Natasha seemed unbearably lost. 

‘Please Natasha, let me take you home.’ You murmured softly. The hum of your voice settled her instinctively and the guilt clawed at you harder.

You took her hand, interlacing your fingers and led her over to your car. Natasha didn’t protest, there was something childlike in the way she followed you. 

Natasha clipped her seatbelt and stared numbly out the window as you drove back to her place.

She cried intermittently, hiding her face behind the oversized sleeve of your sweatshirt. You tried to focus on driving, your mind was full of white noise.

You pulled up outside her apartment building and there was a brief, awkward pause.

You asked if you could walk her to her apartment. Tension seemed to vibrate from Natasha at the offer, but she nodded. 

Selfishly, you prayed another person wouldn’t be waiting behind the door.

Natasha walked ahead of you up the stairs. You didn’t comment on her shakiness, her jerky reach for the handrail.

There was another unbalanced moment in front of her apartment. 

You wanted to beg to see her again. You wanted to promise not to bother her. You stood silent in indecision.

Natasha held her open door purposefully wide and gave you a third option.

All thoughts of someone else being there washed away. 

There was no view of the city skyline to greet you. Her closed blinds only allowed a dim amber light to filter through. Messy stacks of papers covered most surfaces. 

Natasha looked unsure of her surroundings. She watched you take in the space. You tried to keep your concern muted.

The stains down her kitchen cabinets seemed old. Empty vodka bottles littered the floor by the sofa. 

A phantom memory floated in your mind’s eye, of the last time you’d been here.

‘You should sit down.’ You remembered to say, trying to ignore the rising anxiety in your chest. The idea of her living with someone new was preferable to this. Loneliness weighed down the air.

Natasha obeyed silently. She walked over and curled up familiarly on the sofa. You couldn’t stop staring at her. Sadness and love twisted into self loathing.

‘When was the last time you ate?’ You asked worriedly, scared for the answer.

Natasha shook her head slowly. 

“I don’t remember.’ She told you, staring down at a sofa cushion. ‘That’s why I was at the store.’

You nodded even though she couldn’t see. Your throat was too tight to speak. You checked her fridge. It was as empty as you expected.

‘I’m going to order you pizza.’ You determined, pretending that Natasha wasn’t nearly catatonic on the sofa. She didn’t react to your words.

You ordered her favourite toppings and brought her over a glass of water. Natasha didn’t meet your eyes. When you sat on the far side of the sofa, she curled her legs tighter against herself.

‘Have you had any missions lately?’ You broke the silence. Natasha shook her head again, she stared at the glass of water that she wasn’t drinking.

‘I’m on bereavement leave.’ She whispered several minutes later. ‘I had a breakdown.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ You let out in a strangled whisper, fingernails digging into your palm.

Natasha ignored you.

When the pizza arrived, you set it down in front of Natasha. She held out a slice to you and you refused politely.

The angry spark ignited in Natasha again and she stared at you fiercely.

‘You have to eat.’ She told you and her insistence sent you into flashbacks from the past. Each memory hit like a blow to the gut.

‘You’re one to talk.’ You replied before you could think. Natasha snatched the slice back and her eyes dropped down again to the food in front of her.

She breathed out unsteadily.

‘I’m trying.’ She whispered, more to herself than to you.

Your voice died on another apology.

After a while, you started collecting up the strewn around dirty dishes. You checked her bedroom and found more liquor bottles by the bed. Her sheets hadn’t been changed in a long time. 

You stripped the bed and started the washing machine. 

‘You okay?’ You asked automatically as you returned to the room. Natasha’s head was leaning heavily against the back of the sofa. Her eyes followed you tiredly as you walked back to the kitchen.

‘I forgot something at the store.’ Natasha croaked out. 

‘I’m not buying you more vodka.’ You said directly, turning your back as you loaded the dishwasher.

‘Fuck you.’ She bit back angrily.

The insult was nothing. It was worse that Natasha didn’t really hate you. 

You took the bottles outside to the trash in three separate trips. Two neighbours on the stairs,  busy in conversation, gave you a dirty look each time you walked by. 

You spent the afternoon scrubbing kitchen cabinets, making her bed and organising Natasha’s mail. 

Natasha fell asleep on the sofa. You went to cover her with a blanket, but there was a dried vomit stain on the corner of the fabric and so you did another load of laundry instead.

There was nothing else to do, but you found yourself pacing through the apartment anyway. You itched to open the blinds but you didn’t want to wake her.

.

Natasha cried in her sleep.

The sounds were faint, and then they got louder.

Her fists clenched and her leg kicked out. You hovered behind the sofa, scared to wake her.

Natasha was barely conscious when she moved from the sofa. You hurried behind her as she stumbled rapidly to the bathroom. You heard her throwing up. You pressed down your hesitation and slid to your knees beside her.

You gathered her hair up and held it back as she vomited. 

You weren’t sure what she’d woken up remembering, not until her hand patted your thigh searchingly. She only stopped when she found your hand, gripping it tightly. 

Natasha only let go when she stumbled back to her feet, flushing the toilet. She leaned over the sink heavily and you stood quietly as she tried to take more steadying breaths. 

Your hand touched her shoulder and she flinched again.

You didn’t know how to ask about the vomiting. You didn’t want to know about her nightmares.

Natasha watched your reflection in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. You met her gaze carefully. 

When she turned to leave the bathroom, you reached for her hand. Natasha snatched it away from you.

Every apology you made felt meaningless. You foresaw the inevitable when Natasha walked you to the door.

Fear broke loose inside you suddenly. You fought an urge to plant your feet in the ground and refuse to move. Natasha turned back to you when her hand was on the door handle.

‘You need to leave.’ She told you, nerves making her voice tremble.

‘Natasha, please.’ You found yourself stumbling on your words. You had no good argument, but you were ready to beg.

Natasha turned the handle and opened the door.

‘I’m sorry.’ You tried again, feeling yourself start to shake. 

Natasha didn’t speak and her permanently reddened eyes didn’t meet yours. You watched her grip on the door handle tighten.

You took a step towards her, your hand gently touched her waist.

Natasha’s hand pressed flat against your chest. The gesture was firm but not harsh.

The finality of the rejection hung in the air. 

You forgot how to breathe. Your eyes widened in panic. Natasha’s hand moved you forward and through the door. You tried to remember every feature of her face.

You didn’t have enough time.

The door shut abruptly and you found yourself staring at it. Tears rolled down your cheeks.

Natasha wasn’t okay.

You were the cause. You couldn’t be the cure.

Fear, pain and grief hit you in quick succession.

It was only when the cold air hit you outside that you realised she’d kept your sweatshirt.

You understood it now. All the calls she’d left. All the faith she’d had.

Living with the consequences was so much worse than dying with them.

[bucks-babe]

hi!! i’ve had this concept in my head for a while and i love your writing style so i thought you would be perfect to ask. so reader is new to the compound, like helping out in the lab but not necessarily on the team, and because of that when she tries forming relationships with people on the team she’s kind of pushed to the side. bucky sees this and feels for her since he was kind of treated the same when he was new, so he starts becoming friends with her and building a relationship with her. then he starts involving her in things the team does like dinners or movie nights. and when they’re around each other the team can obviously see that they like each other as more than friends. you can develop it more from there but that’s kind of the base line for my idea!!

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: Being new to the compound isn’t easy, luckily you have a supersoldier on your side

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff, reader wears glasses (no other description of reader though), Bucky thinks reader is cute, Tony is kind of a huge dick, vague implications of smut but no smut (blink and you’ll miss it), I suck at endings, they are in love, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.780k

“Hey, uh, Glasses, I need you to run these samples for me.” You look up and see Tony walking into the lab, straight to your table. You look around, not sure if he was talking to you, but you’re alone in the lab, given that it was almost midnight, but you had to finish the reports from the samples that Steve dropped off in the morning.

You were swamped in work, not even taking a lunch break, desperate to finish everything so that you could go back to your room in the compound and take a shower. It felt like you’ve been stuck in the lab for days on end. The Avengers having back to back missions and you being the only lab tech without a family to go home to, you were stuck working insane hours.

“Mr. Stark, can these wait until the morning? I'm still working on the reports from Captain Rogers.” Tony heaves a great sigh, clearly exasperated by your reluctance to do his work, knowing damn well he can run these samples a lot quicker with the help of F.R.I.D.A.Y. but he just doesn’t want to. Might as well make the overworked lab tech do it.

“The old man can wait until tomorrow for his report, just get mine done. If he has a problem, he can take it up with me. Goodnight, Penny.” And just like that, he walks off. You know for sure that he didn’t hear you correct him when he got your name wrong. Honestly, where did he even get Penny from? You’re so stressed you feel like you could cry, which pisses you off more. It made you feel weak when you would cry when you were frustrated but you couldn’t help it.

It's been like this since you got the job at the compound. At first you thought that this would be an amazing opportunity, getting to work side by side with the Avengers. In reality, you stay cooped up in the lab most of the day, getting overworked, and only see the Avengers when they stop by to give you more work. 

Of course, you understand that being a superhero is hard work, but a little courtesy goes a long way. It would be a nice change of pace if someone acknowledged your efforts. You push Steve’s reports to the side and start working on Tony’s samples, knowing that this is going to take all night, but you don’t really have a choice. It needs to be done and you’re the only one in the lab.

The sound of the door opening jolts you awake, a piece of paper stuck to your face with drool. “Hey, do you have those reports for me?” You groan and look at Steve. The clock on the wall reads 6:03 AM, ever the early riser, Steve is. You must have fallen asleep sometime last night trying to finish the work Tony gave you, which is just as incomplete as Steve’s reports.

“Sorry, Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark gave me an urgent request that needed priority.” You keep your head down, ashamed to look at him. 

“I gave you those samples in the morning. How are the reports not done?” He has his hands on his hips with the disappointed father's look on his face, making you feel even worse. You really are trying your best, but you’re burnt out and can't do everything at once.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have them done by early afternoon. I can drop them off if you’d like?” God, you feel so stupid! Steve just waves you off with a “I’ll come back after lunch for them” and leaves you to your own thoughts.

You get Steve’s reports done before lunch and continue to work on finishing Tony’s when the lab doors open again. Without looking up you slide Steve’s reports to him. “They’re done Captain Rogers.” 

“It’s not Steve.” You push your glasses up on your nose and see Bucky standing before your table, quite awkwardly as well, shuffling on his feet with his right hand in his pocket, left hanging down limply at his side.

“Sergeant Barnes, how can I help you?” You’ve always had a crush on Bucky, but he was the only Avenger who hasn’t come into your lab - ever. Matter of fact, he avoids the lab like the plague, which is understandable given that he was experimented on for years. 

“It’s my arm, I can’t move it.” After a few seconds of silence he adds on, “The metal one. Usually, I can recalibrate it myself but I think it has something to do with the plates.” He looks so vulnerable; Bucky’s not used to asking for help, rather always helping someone else.

“I can take a look at it if you want.” You assume that’s why he came down to the lab, not just to chit chat with you. He nods and you lead him to a lab chair. “Can you take your shirt off for me?” Bucky’s eyebrows hit his hairline and his jaw drops. “I need to see your arm, Sergeant.” Now both of you are blushing.

It takes him a little while but he gets his shirt off and stares at the floor, embarrassed of the scars surrounding his arm. “Can I touch your arm, Sergeant?” Bucky eyes widen; he’s not used to someone asking permission to touch his arm. If he doesn’t wear his gloves in public, people will stare and point, some even trying to touch his hand to get a better look at the silver arm. Bucky hates it: the arm, the stares, the scars, everything.

He mumbles a confirmation and watches you work on his arm. He thinks you’re cute, with glasses that make your eyes look slightly magnified and how you stick your tongue out when you concentrate. You’ve always hated your glasses, thinking that they make you look bug eyed, but Bucky thinks that it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. There are bags under your eyes, which makes Bucky frown. Stark is overworking you.

After a few minutes you look up and see Bucky staring at you and you both quickly look away. “One of the plates near your shoulder came loose and disrupted the signal to the rest of the arm. That’s why you couldn’t move it. It’s fixed now and you should be good to go, Sergeant.”

 Before Bucky could say anything, Tony enters. “Penn, those reports done yet or are you too busy with Terminator over there?” You ignore Bucky’s confused who’s Penn? and give Tony the finished half of his reports, hoping against hope that he won’t tear you a new one in front of Bucky.

“Uh, Glasses, where is the other half?” 

“I didn’t get to them all last night and then Captain Rogers needed his reports this morning. I’m sorry, Mr. Stark.” Not only did you not finish Tony’s reports on time, but you were also late with Steve’s, on top of getting minimal sleep and not eating. The humiliation is seeping through your pores. You’re letting your idols down in real time, seeing their disappointment right in front of you.

“I told you to prioritize my samples, not Rogers.” Bucky is still in his chair, watching, ready to jump to your defense. He doesn’t like the way Tony is talking to you. Little do you know, but Bucky sometimes comes down to the lab to watch you work, never entering, God no. He’d look like a creep. But the sweet lab tech caught his attention the moment you arrived.

“I know, but I fell behind and Captain Rogers said-”

“I don’t care what Rogers said. I told you-” 

“Back off Stark, if you want them done, do it yourself.” Bucky was pissed; you are too sweet for your own good, letting people boss you around and bending over backwards for them. Not when Bucky is around.

Before Tony can continue to argue with Bucky, F.R.I.D.A.Y. calls him away for a meeting, leaving you and Bucky in the lab alone. “Sergeant Barnes, you didn’t have to do that. Those reports should have been done anyway; it was my fault.” How pathetic is it to have someone you hardly know see your faults.

“He shouldn’t be talking to you like that, doll. You’re only one person and you're doing your best.” He’s a lot closer to you now and you can smell his cologne, making your head feel all fuzzy. “Thank you for helping me with my arm, too.”

“Thank you for letting me, Sergeant, I know that was difficult for you.” You’re looking up at him through your thick frames, eyes larger than they actually are, bags under your eyes, but Bucky thinks you’ve never been prettier. Or maybe it’s because he’s never seen you up close, but you are the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen, 40’s or not.

“Call me Bucky.”

After that, Bucky was in the lab almost everyday. For a while he would claim to have some strange ailment until you told him that he didn’t have to feign injury to visit, which made him blush. He would spend his lunch in the lab, making sure that you were eating, too. Bucky is a very observant man, and on his trips to the lab, before he first talked to you, he would see how overworked you were and how you barely ate. 

He made it his mission to keep you well fed and get you out of the lab at a decent hour, giving a death glare to agents trying to drop off samples after a certain hour. 

Outside of the lab, Bucky was your only friend at the compound; although, he’s never hand fed Steve in bed while watching old movies. Bucky felt comfortable around you, even more so than with Steve. Bucky and you had a special bond - he would confide in you when you would both be awake at the unholy hours of night and you would do the same. He trusted you not to tell anyone else and, to him, it was easier to talk to you than Steve.

Steve had a tendency to look at Bucky as if he was a sick puppy, and Bucky hated that, he hated the pity. He didn’t want to be treated like precious glass, and you allowed him to be vulnerable without making him feel like he was falling apart.

Some nights you both would fall asleep in bed together and wake up entangled, those nights were Bucky’s favorites. You were so soft and even though you were so much smaller than him, you made him feel safe and protected. His sweet doll in his bed, keeping the nightmares away. 

He loved the way you would squint and search for your glasses on the stand next to the bed, whining when you accidentally knocked them to the floor, or stabbed yourself in the eye trying to put them on. 

The entire dynamic of your friendship changed one night. Bucky doesn’t know who moved first, but the two of you kissed, and Bucky can’t remember kisses ever being so good. The two of you only kissed that night, nothing further, but it was the best night that either of you had in a long while. From that day on, he was your old man and you were his old lady.

You both decided to keep your relationship a secret for the time being. You didn’t want the other lab techs to think you were getting special treatment and Bucky didn’t want to deal with the teasing from Sam or the questions from Steve. But Bucky loathed when he would be forced by Steve to join movie nights, alone, without you. Steve wanted what was best for his friend so he would force Bucky to get out more; little did Steve know that Bucky had the best girl waiting for him to come over.

He could tell that you were let down whenever he had to participate in “team bonding.” You wanted to be valued by the team, yet you understood why they never invited you; you weren’t an Avenger, just a lowly lab tech. Nonetheless, it broke Bucky’s heart to see you so despondent, which is why he asked you to join the next movie night, team be damned.

“Come on, doll, it will be fun. I promise.” Bucky holds you close to his chest, laying down next to you under the covers. You roll over, naked chest to naked chest, body still shaking, and bury your face in his neck, breathing him in.

“I’m not even a part of the team, Jamie. What will all your teammates think, huh? The great Bucky Barnes and the weird lab tech: A perfect match. No, they won’t.” Bucky gently grabs both sides of your face, both metal and flesh warm from previous activities, and makes you look him in the eye. 

He’s a little blurry since you aren’t wearing your glasses. The lenses would smush against your face everytime he would kiss you with anything more than a chaste kiss, and Bucky Barnes is a passionate kisser in bed. At your slight squint, he pulled you closer to his face so you could see him clearly; blue eyes holding nothing but the utmost love and devotion.

“I don’t give a damn what the team thinks, you hear me? You are my doll and I want to show you off. My sweet little lab tech who’s too kind for her own good. Let them all know how perfect you are.” Your resolve is crumbling like it does every time he looks at you. It is an overwhelming feeling, being the light of someone’s life, being showered with so much love you feel like you can’t breathe, but each breath fills up your lungs with joy and hope.

Bucky nuzzles his nose against yours and you both know you’ll say yes. You’d follow him to the ends of the earth, just as he would for you. “Okay, Jamie, I will, for you.”

Movie night is a week later and you’re on Bucky’s lap where he sits on the recliner. It’s his unofficial seat whenever Steve forces him to these things, stuck in the corner of the room away from everyone else with no seat next to him. At first, no one notices you on Bucky’s lap, curled up into him with tangled limbs not able to tell where Bucky begins and you end. 

Steve is the first to notice, doing a double take at the extra bulk in Bucky’s seat, and just as Bucky is observant, so is Steve. Steve had a suspicion that there was something more to Bucky’s disappearances during lunch and the extra food he would take after dinner. Steve just smiles to himself and faces the movie once more, every so often glancing back at the two lovebirds in their own world.

Bucky has no clue what movie they are watching, his sole focus is on you. You had a long day in the lab, yet you held true to your word to join movie night with him, but being curled up in Bucky’s arms was your favorite place to be and before long you were sound asleep, holding onto his metal arm, using it as a pillow. As gently as he could, Bucky took off your glasses and put them atop his head, falling asleep himself before the movie was halfway over.

Sam was the second to notice, and let the rest of the team know as well. “OH. MY. GOD. Tony, where is my phone? I can’t believe this.” The rest of the team look at each other in confusion, following Sam’s line of sight, they see you wrapped up in Bucky’s arms, the both of you sound asleep. 

“Is that…Glasses?” Comes from Tony.

“She’s so cute!” Slips from Wanda.

“Who’s Glasses?” is followed by a slap from Nat with a hissed “Thor, shut up, they’re sleeping!”

“Tony, my phone! I need evidence.”

“Terminator’s getting laid?”

“We’re watching Indiana Jones, Stark.” 

“Thor, inside voice, we’ve talked about this.”

The teasing from the team is endless the next day, but Bucky doesn’t have it in him to care, he has his sweetheart by his side and they know better than to provoke Bucky. Coincidentally, Tony offers to take some of his samples back to test them himself; Bucky insists that he must have had a change of heart, you don’t believe it for one second, but Bucky will never admit to anything. After all, he has to take care of his sweet girl. 

[gunnerfc]

Baby Fever | Steph Catley x Matildas!Reader

Summary: having young children around during camp has you and your wife thinking about the future 

Warnings: just fluff!! Which is the complete opposite of my last steph fic LMAO

WC: 1.3K - a tad short but wanted to have something posted this week! 

AN: two steph fics back to back…. Just love her very much i fear 🤧

Being in camp with some of your closest friends and your wife was always a fun experience. You were thrilled to be back in camp, playing the sport you loved with the people you loved. However, recently there has been a specific thought in the back of your head about you and Steph expanding your family. It didn’t help that two of your teammates had adorable kids that usually came to camp with them.

Here you were, sitting with some of your teammates after a long day of training watching Kyra and Charli playing with Harper. The small girl’s giggles filled the room as she tried to escape Kyra’s grasp. You watched from your spot on a couch with a fond smile on your face at their interactions. 

“You and Steffy are next then yeah,” Caitlin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts about what it would be like seeing Steph play with your kids.

You turned to face the forward, offering a light shrug in response before mumbling a “maybe.” You and Steph have talked about kids before you were engaged and it was something you both wanted, you just weren’t sure when. With it being an Olympic year, you knew it wouldn’t be any time soon and that was fine and you knew this was a conversation that needed to be revisited. 

The next few days before the game, it seemed that no matter where you went, you saw parents with their young kids having the best time. It was like the universe was trying to make your baby fever worse than it already was. You had decided to bring it up to Steph the next time you two got a moment to yourselves, which with the hectic pre-game schedule wasn’t until you were sat next to her in the locker room after warm-ups.

“My love,” you started as you leaned closer to her. “I think we should have a baby,” your voice was low enough for only Steph to hear but with the loud chatter and music filling the room, you could have spoken normally and no one would have heard you.

Steph, who is in the process of retying her boot, jerked her head up and almost hit you. Her eyes were wide at your words but before she could form a response, Tony was ushering the team into a huddle for a quick speech before walkouts.

Was telling Steph you wanted to have kids right before a match your brightest idea? No. but if you didn’t say anything soon then you were going to go crazy. Your words stuck with the defender throughout the match and she tried her hardest to shake them, needing to focus on the game.

Steph wanted kids with you as well, and she’d be lying if seeing how much the team loved Harper and Harley didn’t make her want kids more. She just was not expecting you to say that right before you walked out onto the pitch for a game. The Matildas came away with a three-to-one win over New Zealand and as the final whistle blew, you were jumping in her arms, celebrating your goal that she assisted. 

“I’m so proud of you, pretty girl,” Steph swooned, her arms tightening around your waist. 

Your arms tightened around her neck as your face flushed at the pet name. It didn’t matter that the two of you had been together for years and were married, every time Steph called you a cute pet name, you felt the same as you did when you first started dating.

“Couldn’t have done without you, baby,” you whispered in her ear as you pulled back slightly, your eyes locking with hers. Normally, you would have been hesitant about bold PDA moves but in that moment you didnt care as you pulled your wife into a kiss.

Over the loud cheers from the crowd, you could hear Kyra and Charli mocking you and Steph and the teasing comments from Caitlin and Hayley to “get a room.” You giggled into the kiss before pulling away and subtly flipping off your teammates. 

You heard your name being called by a staff member to come do a quick post-match interview and you groaned into Steph’s shoulder, you didn’t want to let go of her.

“Go, we’ll talk back at the hotel,” the defender smiled as she lightly pushed in the direction of the staff member. You took a deep breath at her words, knowing she was referencing what you said before the game. 

You weren’t expecting anything bad but you were nervous about the big step you and Steph would be making soon. The interview went by quickly and you were once again in the locker room, this time freshly showered and in comfortable clothes. Steph had waited for you to take a shower and change before you two joined your teammates on the bus. 

The ride back to the hotel was quieter than normal, everyone feeling the effects of long training sessions mixed having played over ninety minutes. Your head was resting on Steph’s shoulder as your eyes fluttered closed from exhaustion. “Sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there, pretty girl,” Steph whispered as she gave you a small kiss on the top of your head.

A few minutes later, the defender was lightly shaking you awake, whispering that you were at the hotel. You blinked a few times to wake yourself up before light stretching your arms as you waited for your teammates in front of you to move down the aisle. Taking Steph’s hand you exited the bus and made your way through the lobby. Before you could reach the elevator, Steph pulled you towards the hotel's indoor pool, she figured it would be a relaxing way to talk since you weren’t roommates this camp.

As you two reached the entrance, a family exited the pool room laughing. You were sure the universe was just teasing you now. The indoor pool was empty after the family left, which made things a bit more peaceful for you and Steph. The two of sat on the edge of the pool with your feet in the cool water.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying just being in your wife’s presence. Steph was in an intense staring contest with the reflections in the water, her mind racing with similar thoughts to yours.

“I know we’ve talked about kids,” you started, breaking the silence. Steph turned her head in your direction, giving you her full attention. “But, seeing the team, and you, with Harper and Harley this camp has me thinking about us, and when we will be parents. And, it's like the universe is trying to tell me something because every time we leave this hotel, all I can notice are families having the best time and I want that,” you rushed out, taking a deep breath when you were finished.

Steph watched as you rambled with a small smile on her face, she was over the moon at the thought of starting a family with you. “Obviously, I know it can't happen now, we have the Olympics and the rest of the season to focus on but after, maybe we could start then,” you offered when Steph hadn’t said anything.

“I want nothing more than for us to have a family. I couldn’t tell you the number of times I've watched you with kids, picturing you with our kids,” the defender mumbled as she thought about it again. 

“After we win the gold medal and the league, we’ll start then,” Steph confirmed your earlier statement with a promising tone. Your face lit up at her words as you scooted closer to pull her into a deep kiss.

You pulled apart when air became an issue and leaned back with a content sigh. “I know you’ll be great with kids, my love,” you said before a teasing smirk that Steph knew meant you were going to say something unserious. “Plus, you’ll also be a milf!” you smirked, watching Steph roll her eyes at your words.

You two had some time to figure out everything about expanding your family, but for now, you were going to live through your teammates who brought their kids to camp, knowing soon you and Steph would have your own kids to love and adore.