#if they both can’t bag Nat

[wntrsnat]

If Marvel Comics won’t give us winterwidow or clintasha, I say that we must get winterhawk.

[sometimesanalice]

Bedside Manner

Summary: You were expecting the perfect summer afternoon with the Daggers, but when a game of dogfight football takes a turn for the worse, you’re left with a bleeding head and an aching heart. And it’s up to Bradley to show you his bedside manner.

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K

Warnings: A little angst, a little pining, and two idiots in love.

It’s a perfect summer afternoon. Well, almost.

The sun is high in the sky and the steady salt kissed ocean breeze keeps it from being too uncomfortably hot. The coolers are filled with beers and sodas and a few pink cans of rosé that Coyote had brought. And the beach blankets were littered with open half-eaten family sized bags of chips and cubes of bright pink watermelon and containers of various dips and ziplocs with sun warmed and mostly melted chocolate chip cookies.

“You guys, really, I’m fine,” you state as adamantly as you can given the circumstances.

Sure, you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your throbbing, bleeding head. Sure, you are a little afraid to put your full weight on your left ankle and already dreading the long walk back to your car.

But it’s fine, you’re fine. Everything is…peachy. Or it will be as soon as they all stop looking at you like you’re about to crumple to the ground like some 1920’s silent film starlet from on the silver screen.

Nat has that deep pinch between her sharp brown eyes. Jake’s lips are pressed together in a firm white line. The rest of the team stands hovering around you in a misshapen semicircle, all sandy and sweaty, and wearing the concern painted across their faces.

All except for Rooster, who can’t seem to look at you at all.

“Clearly, you’re not,” Phoenix says flatly, clearly unamused by your attempts to minimize the situation. And you wish that just this once she could have let this go and follow your lead. But then she wouldn’t be Natasha Trace.

Your best friend since middle school had always been the most capable and sharpest person in the room and you loved that about her.

Normally.

But not so much when her keen assessment of you keeps you from being able to slink away quietly without fuss. 

“No, seriously. It’s just a little scratch. It’s not a big deal.” It sounds feeble even to your own ears. Trying to hold back a wince when the way you shake your head makes starbursts bloom behind your eyes.

You could have dealt with the pounding in your head if it weren’t for the relentless burning of your ankle that was only making things worse. One or the other would have been easier to manage, but both vying for your attention as the pain pulses with every heartbeat was miserable.

The sun was too hot, the kids frolicking the ocean were too loud, the sunscreen on your skin felt too greasy. All you wanted was a shower and your bed and to forget this whole day even happened.

You look around the group trying to gauge how successful your efforts are, but it’s clear that no one seems to be buying your brand of poorly performed bullshit. You wanted to crawl into yourself like a hermit crab, protected by your own shell, as six pairs of eyes all looked on at you sympathetically, while the pretty brown ones you wanted to see the most were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses and trained down at the ground.

It was supposed to be a fun day.

You’d woken up that morning absolutely giddy about trading spreadsheets for sand and sunburns and sea salt tangled hair. Your cheery, new swimsuit already laid out and waiting for you from the night before.

There was something thrilling about hooky on a Friday with all of your favorite people that made you feel all kinds of young and free. Well, hooky for you. They’d been given the day off after a month of intensive training and testing of some new defensive software. They all deserved the break and you were more than happy to tag along.

You were always the good kid in school, never skipping, never missing a class. You’d felt like a rebellious teen as you crafted your ‘out of office’ email, a smug grin on your face like you were getting away with something. Even though you’d earned the right to use that PTO whichever way you wanted.

The anticipation of a snow day from your childhood school days had nothing on the intoxicating promise of a beach day on a golden summer Friday.

The team must have felt the same way too because the group chat the night before had been chaotically amusing. The excitement was palpable enough that you’d almost think you all lived in some landlocked state rather than San Diego, where it felt like all roads led to the beach whether you wanted them to or not.

Somewhere between the string of all capitalized sentences and exclamation points with a few well-chosen emojis scattered throughout, Natasha had managed to wrangle everyone in enough into sorting out who was responsible for bringing what. There wouldn’t be another veggie platter incident, not on her watch.

You’d felt bright and effervescent as you’d pulled into the parking lot, your eyes reflexively seeking out a blue Bronco that hadn’t arrived yet. With a beach chair over one shoulder and a beach bag over the other and a packed cooler bag in your hand, you’d made towards the multicolored sprawl of blankets and the striped peaks of the umbrellas, where you were met with the smiling faces of shiny happy people.

Some of the boys had rushed over to help you carry your things and added your offerings to the communal pile of snacks and sunscreen and bottles of water. It had been easy to fall into conversation with everyone as you set up your own little patch of paradise and shimmied out of your frayed cut-offs. Natasha had given you a wolf whistle and you’d laughed as you give her the finger.

And hour and a half later with an easy grin on his face, carrying a case of beer and two big Ziploc bags stuffed with what you learned later were homemade cookies balanced on top, was Rooster.

You’ve had plenty of beach days with them but every time you saw him in those damn denim shorts he always seemed determined to wear, regardless of how impractical they were, your mind still went a little fizzy as you took in just how well they clung to his thighs.

He’d taken the ribbing from his squad in stride as he unboxed the beers and added them to the collection already chilling in Bob’s bright yellow cooler. You were trying- and failing- to read your worn paperback book when he’d surprised you by plopping his things next to yours on your oversized towel and stole a chunk of juicy watermelon off of the plate balanced on your lap.

“Hey, book worm,” he grinned as he popped it into his mouth, “How’s my favorite girl doing?” That smile of his getting bigger when you rolled your eyes at him.

“Hi, Rooster,” you’d said looking at him from over the top of your sunglasses with an amused smirk.

And if your cheeks felt warm, it was from the sun and not the teasing tone of his raspy voice.

When he’d shrugged off his shirt to apply the sunscreen you’d brought with him in mind, the wink he’d shot you went straight to your head like champagne. The sun highlighting his impressive abs and sculpted shoulders didn’t help either as he took great efforts to cover his chest and stomach with the lotion. He had to be doing it on purpose, because he’d kept rubbing it in well past when the white hue faded. But who were you to complain? Melanoma was no joke.

“You wanna help me out?” he’d asked turning his back to you, looking over his shoulder. You’re pretty sure that he’d been flexing because he’d looked impossibly broad, every defined muscle standing out for eyes to map out and explore.

You’d been at war with yourself, because while your eager hands were desperate to touch him, you also knew that once you ran your hands along his solid frame that you’d never want to stop. That you wouldn’t be content until your fingertips had traced every inch of him.

You had been blessedly and devastatingly spared the choice.

“I got you, Rooster. My hands are already all sunscreen-y,” chimed in Bob, who had just finished rubbing his own freshly applied layer. “Wouldn’t want it to get on her book.”

You were only half relieved to be off the hook, while Bradley on the other hand was still looking at you expectantly, almost hopefully, still with the white and yellow bottle of sunscreen partly extended towards you.

“That’s so sweet of you, Bob-” you’d started.

“Yeah, so sweet-” Bradley grumbled under his breath.

“I appreciate you sparing my pages the sunscreen grease,” you’d said shooting Bob a smile, choosing to ignore Bradley’s comment completely. “Plus, your hands are bigger than mine. You’ll have him covered in no time.”  

Bradley looked between you and Bob before he passed the bottle to the other man, shaking his head a little in defeat. You’d giggled to yourself as you wiggled your book at an openly brooding Bradley, and then leaned back on your elbows to observe the way the attentive WSO made sure to carefully and thoroughly cover Bradley’s entire back.

Respectfully, of course.

Behind your sunglasses you’d admired all of Bradley’s bulk compared to Bob’s lithe grace. But in your defense, they were standing right in front of you and you’d already reread your book at least five times in the past, so it wasn’t nearly as interesting as the scene in front of you had been.

“You look awfully comfortable over there,” Rooster called out with a raised eyebrow.

“Just taking in the view,” you’d teased back.

“Yeah, I bet you are,” he huffed as Bob finished up, giving him a thanks, man before tossing you back the bottle of sunscreen. He’d nudged his sunglasses down his nose and pinned you with his gaze, “Let me know if you want me to get your back. My hands are just as capable as his.” Even in the high heat of summer, the way he’d looked at you sent chills running along your arms.

You felt the way his keen eyes traveled from your face, down the deep-v of your swimsuit and along the swells of your breasts, and down your legs to your freshly painted toes. His mouth had ticked up in the corner then left you reeling and your heart pounding away in your chest as he’d strut off to go join Fanboy and Coyote by the mountain of snacks.

And that was the thing about Bradley Bradshaw. You never knew if he was just flirt-y or flirt-ing.

You hadn’t had a crush in ages, but when Nat had introduced you to her team five months ago, the man with the sunkissed curls and surprisingly attractive mustache had immediately caught your eye.

And as you’d gotten to know him, it had only gotten worse.

Not only was he very nice to look at and could make you laugh until your sides ached, but he also he had depth about him in a way that most men your age didn’t. You liked talking to him and listening to his stories. You liked learning his perspective on things. You liked being around him.

He made you feel interesting and special and funny and seen. You’ve never felt as comfortable in your own skin as you did when you were around him.

Rooster would send you flirty winks, give you less than subtle once overs, and could flash you such devastating slow grins that they’d have you trying to catch the butterflies they released in your stomach for hours after you went home.

But he’s never made a move.

If only he wouldn’t play hide and seek with his true intentions.

You felt like you were still waiting on some small clue whether he was serious or not. You didn’t know if he was just having fun with you or if he was into you and it was more than just friendly banter. It would be so much easier if he’d straight up tell you one way or another.

Needless to say, you’d let Nat be the one to help you with your sunscreen a little bit later. The idea of Bradley’s big hands on you, gliding along your sun-warmed skin and under the crisscross straps of your swimsuit, was too much for your hummingbird heart.

The sun climbed higher into the sky as the butter yellow midmorning transformed into a Midas-touched golden afternoon.

The squad had been able to reserve a fire pit and the plan had been to stay until the sunset. An endless summer day stretching out before them like a cat. They had nothing but time.

Clusters of people came together and split apart like a kaleidoscope as some went to take a dip in the ocean or raid the cooler and snack spread or go for a walk along the shore. Changing and shifting with the direction of the wind, going where the mood took them.

And for a peaceful moment, it had been you with your book and a napping Bradley sprawled out next to you on your towel with his arm flung over his eyes. Close enough that you could feel his warmth, almost but not quite touching. The sound of his soft breaths and the waves their own kind of lullaby as you contentedly read your book, turning your pages quietly to not disturb the man next to you, as the droplets of the Pacific dried on your skin.  

You still don’t know how you got roped into playing a round of dogfight football with the Navy’s best and brightest. You were more of a corn hole or ladder toss kind of girl, but Coyote had all but thrown you over his shoulder and dragged you out before you’d agreed to participate, conceding your defeat.

You were on a team with Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy against Nat, Rooster, Payback, and Bob. A few plays in and you had been getting the hang of it. They’d all been making sure to take care to go easy on you even in the chaos of two teams playing offensively and defensively at the same time. You were more than a little out of breath, but you were having fun.

Before the next snap, Mickey gave the most impassioned pep talk you’d ever heard, “Fuck luck, we don’t need luck. We gotta fucking win.” You had been about to laugh, but then you’d seen the looks on Jake and Javy’s faces and decided against it. Curious about the other team, you’d glanced over only to see Rooster looking back at you.

The calls had been made, the blur of plays in motion as people whirled and dodged and sprinted.

You’d just lobbed the ball to Javy before darting around Nat when a big, solid body collided with you. Hard. You’d felt the twinge of your ankle twisting in the sand right before the force sent you flying in the opposite direction you’d been headed.

The impact had been jarring. The air knocked from your lungs.

Where you should have been met with a mouthful of gritty sand, instead your head had connected with the rough surface of a partially buried rock. The low, thick thud reverberating throughout your whole body.

You’d been so stunned that you didn’t even register you were even on the ground until you heard the chorus of oh fucks and holy shits and goddamns and jesus christs over the ringing in your ears.

The game coming to an immediate and conclusive end.

For how many empty bottles and cans were sitting collected in a trash bag off to the side of your beach set up, they had been surprisingly quick to act as you blinked blankly, trying to clear the spots from your vision.

It was a silent ballet of efficiency as they instinctively fell into their roles, much like you imagined they did the sky. Everyone stepping up and then stepping back as they did their part, like the ebb and flow of waves.

Nat had carefully poured some fresh water from a bottle on your face to remove the sand that clung to the sweat and sunscreen on your skin. Then Jake had wordlessly passed her his clean spare shirt he’d jogged of to get to help stop the bleeding after Javy checked on your pupils to make sure they were the same size. While Bob stood off to the side holding your warped sunglasses in his hands, as if he was hopeful they could still be salvaged. Mickey and Reuben had been waiting in the wings giving you space, ready to help if they were needed, but not wanting to not crowd in.

And from the corner of your eye, you’d caught Rooster standing a couple feet away with his hands in his hair looking absolutely wrecked.

“Bradley?” you’d tried, even though his name stuck to your teeth. But he’d just shook his head at you before turning away slightly, like he couldn’t look at you, which made your heart sting as well.

They only allowed you to move to sit up after they were content with the answer to their questions- What day is it? Friday. Where are you? San Diego. What else hurts? My ankle and my pride.

It wasn’t until someone hauled you up from underneath your armpits that the throbbing and stinging and aching settled over you. The pain seeping and spreading through muscle and bone like an inky oil spill.

It’s still an almost perfect summer afternoon except for the fact you hate everything about this.

You hate the way they’re gathered around you with too many pairs of assessing eyes pinned on you. You hate that you’re the reason the game of dogfight football came to a definitive and abrupt end. You hate that you’re the reason their carefree and fun afternoon off has turned into this.

There’s a pressure building behind your eyes, the hot tears of hurt and frustration and embarrassment are clamoring to be released. You have to bite your lower lip to keep it from trembling.

And it doesn’t help that you’re the type who’d rather lick your wounds in peace.

You just need to get back to your car and you can figure things out on your own from there. You just need a moment to yourself.

As you open your mouth to argue your case again, Jake puts his hand up and stops you before you’ve even had a chance to start, “I hate to break it to you, sugar, but you’re not fooling any of us.” He says it gently, but gives you a pointed look at the way you’re leaning heavily on your right leg to keep the pressure off of your left ankle.

“That head wound is not a little scratch. Just like your ankle isn’t just a little puffy, when it’s twice the size it should be. You need to go to the Emergency Room,” Nat says, final and resolute. A lifetime of friendship has taught you not to argue when she has that look in her eyes, the one that says try me, I dare you.

They all talk over you as they figure out who is the most sober of the group after your suggestion to call yourself an Uber is immediately shot down. Drinks are being counted on fingers, and memories are searched to make sure every sip and bottle and can is accounted for.

Your eyes drift over to the man who is still actively avoiding looking at you, even as he talks to everyone else on the team. You aren’t paying too close attention to what he is saying, but you can hear the short, clipped staccato of his words.

Bradley’s shoulders are tinged a little pink even though you know for a fact that you had purposely passed him the 65 SPF. His eyes are hidden behind his dark green tinted sunglasses, but you don’t need to see them when you can read his body language better than any book.

His arms are crossed firmly over his chest, the tendons in his forearms flexing and shifting, like he is squeezing and releasing his fists from where they’re tucked under his biceps. Everything in his body looks coiled tight and strained, so at odds with the easy going and loose-limbed man you know him to be.

You don’t realize just how much you’ve zoned out until Natasha has to say your name a couple time before you pull your gaze away from Bradley and back to her.

“Ok, it’s settled,” Nat informs you, “Rooster’s going to take you.” You barely nod your head in acknowledgement when she tells you, because it feels like you’ve been punched in the stomach now too.

“It’s the least he can do,” Jake drawls.

“That’s not fair-” you start, defensively.

“Fuck off, Bagman-” Rooster snaps.

The rage in his voice shocks you, you’ve never heard that much heat from him before. There’s none of the teasing tone that usually underscores their banter. Jake puts both of his hands up placatingly like my bad, folks and Javy just shakes his head and sighs.

And this time when you look at Bradley, he is finally looking back at you with a deep furrow in his brow. His jaw is clenched tight, that muscle ticking and jumping, as he takes in the way you have Jake’s t-shirt pressed against your forehead.

Not exactly the way you’d hoped he’d be looking at you when you put on your new blue and white striped swimsuit this morning.

The one you’d bought because you wanted to make him look.

Just not like this.

With everything sorted the rest of the team trickles away a smattering of take cares and get better soons and let us know if you need anythings. But not before Mickey hands Rooster his stuff and passes Nat your bag and sandals. He gives you the gentlest of squeezes on your shoulder before he leaves to join everyone else back on little part of the beach you all had claimed before things went to shit.

Your group of eight now downsized to a trio.

Bradley is quick to roughly pull on his tank and shirt, and Nat fishes out your car keys from your bag as she waits for him to slip his shoes on. When he’s ready she passes it to him and he silently slides it over his arm.

Nat bends down to help gingerly glide your feet into your sandals, “I’ll grab the rest your things and drop them off at your place and then one of the boys will drop off your car later. We’ve got it all covered, ok?”

“Thanks, Nat,” you say quietly, trying to hold back a wince as she slips the left one on, your ankle pulsing in tempo with your heartbeat.

“Best friends don’t say thank you, they just do,” she says matter-of-factly as she stands. It’s the same thing you’d told her after you’d dumped a carton of strawberry milk on Carly Radke for outing Natasha your freshman year in high school. It was only time you’d ever gotten detention, but it had been worth it.

“They just do,” you repeat with a small smile.

You’re so grateful that your friendship with her is one that has spanned years. That you’ve been able seen one another grow and change and come into their own, but that you haven’t outgrown each other. She’s the person you want by your side and having your back. There is no one quite like Natasha Trace.

She turns to Bradley and you watch him stand a little taller under her sharp eyes, your straw tote still dangling from his forearm.

“You good?” Nat asks him with a look in her eye that you can’t place. And you’re reminded that even though she’s your best friend, that he has also earned a spot as one of her closest friends. Their relationship built over years and experiences that you could never fully understand. Different, but just as deep.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got her. I’ll take care of her,” Rooster promises with a stiff nod, as he gives her his word. It might have made your heart beat a little faster if you didn’t feel like such a burden. That it’s simply a twist of fate and three less drinks than everyone else for the reason that he’s the one to look after you. That he’s the one stuck with you.

“I know you will,” she says softer now, patting his shoulder, “Keep me posted.” Nat presses a kiss to your cheek and gives you an encouraging smile then heads off to go rejoin everyone else.

You watch her go with longing. The cheerful beach set up with its colorful blankets and umbrellas looks more like a desert mirage now. The sweet coconut scented potential of what the day could have been now forever out of reach.

And then it’s just you and Bradley and the sound of the waves and cries of seagulls.

The two of you silent and motionless.

You feel one wrong move and the fragile attempt of the stiff upper lip you’ve cocooned yourself in will crack open and all the soft parts of you will seep out into the sand beneath your feet.

His expression is shuttered closed as he bends a bit like he is going to pick you up.

“Woah, buddy, what are you doing?” You’re squinting into the sun as you look at him. You’d step into his shadow to block it, since you’re now in need of a new pair of sunglasses, but that would mean moving to the left which isn’t an option with your ankle.

“Buddy,” he grunts under his breath, slipping off his sunglasses and carefully putting them on your face, being mindful of stinging scrapes and wad of soft cotton you’re holding to your head. “They’re definitely going to have to run concussion protocol on you,” he mutters more to himself than to you, “I’m taking you to the Bronco and then we’re going the ER, remember?”

“Yeah, I know, Rooster,” you grit out, even rolling your eyes hurts, “But I don’t need you to carry me.”

Everything about this was excruciating and embarrassing enough without him being the Clark Gable to your Vivian Leigh. Maybe you could lean on him and hop over to his car? Like a six-foot-one pair of crutches with good hair.

“Take a step without wincing and I’ll think about it,” he says firmly, pointedly calling your bluff. There’s an expectant look of go on then, whenever you’re ready on his face. Because he knows he’s right, and you do too.

You don’t even bother to make a move, but the way your lower lips wobbles speaks volumes.

“That’s what I thought,” he says quietly, almost like pains him to be right.

He bends a little to hook his arms around your knees and back to lift you up, and this time you let him. Your free arm automatically wrapping around the back of his neck. And he starts off towards the winking windshields of the parking lot.

You’ve thought about what it would be like to be wrapped up in Bradley’s arms, how good it would feel to be pressed closed against him. And now you are and it’s nothing like you’ve imagined, because there isn’t anything sweet or swoon-worthy about how you ended up in them. You’re his duty, you’re not his desire.

All your sandcastle hopes have been washed away by the tide.

You’re so frustrated. You’re frustrated by the day, by yourself, by him.

This time you can’t blink back the tears that well up in your eyes. They flood through your tear ducts carving hot trails down your sun-tinged cheeks.

You want the Bradley from earlier. 

The one who stole your watermelon with warmth in his eyes.

The one who dozed next to you in the sun like a cat, his features soft free of the tension he now holds in his shoulders.

You want your Bradley.

The one who’d whispered cheeky comments in your ear whenever the team got into lighthearted tequila fueled arguments about things like whether a hot dog was a sandwich.

The one who’d always go up to the bar with you on busy nights at the Hard Deck and make sure you didn’t get bumped into on the way back to your friends with your freshly refilled drinks.

You’re aching, aching. Everywhere.

For a brief moment, as you swipe at your tears, you’re happy for the throbbing in your head and ankle, so that way you don’t have to think about the stinging in your heart.

“I know, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I know you’re hurting,” Rooster says gentle and low as you sniffle, but you can hear the thickness of the words in his throat. The term of endearment is the sweetest of nothings, making your tears come faster. Where it should ease the heartache, all it does is make you angry at yourself for giving your emotions away. “We’re almost to the Bronco. It’s ok, we’re gonna get you taken care of, I promise.”

We.

You wanted that with him.

You want to press both of your hands to his cheeks to make him look you in the eyes to ask him is it going to be you and me together?  You’ve been a fool for love before, but you didn’t know if could take another hit-and-run with your heart.

The salt of your tears makes your cheeks feel tight and itchy as the summer breeze dries them on your skin.

Bradley carries you like you weigh nothing, but cradles you like you’re the most precious things he’s ever held. He’s mindful of any dips in the sand and gives wide berth around the college kids playing volleyball close to the entry back to the parking lot.

When he reaches the Bronco, he sets you down gently, making sure both of your feet are planted on the asphalt before letting go of you to unlock his car. He tells you to wait a moment when you move to open the passenger side door.

“I never know when I might get called up for an emergency deployment, so I like to have some extra clothes just in case,” he explains as he digs around in the backseat, pulling out a pair of gray athletic shorts.

“Oh.” And you realize you’re still just clad in your striped swimsuit. “Thank you for sparing me from the hospital germs,” you say lightly, an attempt at a joke to break the ice. One that doesn’t land, since instead of cracking a grin he just presses his lips together in a firm line and nods.

Bradley crouches low in front of you and you put a hand on his shoulder for balance as you lean against the Bronco, still trying to keep as much pressure off your left ankle as possible as you step into them. He’s looking up at you and even through his sunglasses perched on your nose, you swear his brown eyes get a shade darker as he eases the shorts up your legs. You’re touched by the effort as he ties the strings in a lopsided bow, even if things are feeling tense between the two of you.

“Think this’ll be easier,” he mumbles shrugging off his light blue button up. You’ve always liked this one, with its soft pastel pink and minty green watercolor prints of net fishermen and hula girls and palm trees.

He holds it open for you, helping you thread your arm through it, and then takes over holding Jake’s now ruined shirt to your head so that you can get your other arm past the sleeve. It smells like him, citrus and amber. Your fingers brush against each other when you reclaim the makeshift bandage, and he adjusts his shirt so that it hangs over your shoulders just right.

It’s an awkward kind silent as Rooster helps lift you into the Bronco with his strong hands around your hips. He is all smooth efficiency as he buckles you in with a click. You pass him back his sunglasses the same moment he hands you your tote bag, and it almost feels like a hostage exchange.

He says nothing as he hauls himself into the driver’s side. The car rumbles to life when he turns the key in the ignition and a cheery song from the 80’s station on the radio comes on. Bradley quick to turn the volume down low. His thumb brushing your shoulder as he sets his hand on the back of your seat to look behind him as he carefully backs out of the spot.

It’s never felt this strained with him before.

It’s so painfully obvious that the two of you are walking on eggshells around each other. You can almost feel the wall that’s gone up around him. The white noise of the radio drowned out by the hum of the road as he drives in near silence.

Your day has been most effectively ruined by a chunk of sedimentary rock, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still recoup what’s left of it.

He could still have the perfect summer afternoon.

He could still go back to your friends and their perfect beach set up and laugh with them as Coyote keeps accidentally setting marshmallows on fire. He could still catch the bold oranges and soft pinks of the sunset with all the satisfied contentment he deserved to experience.

“You can leave me and go back, you know. I’ll be ok if you just want drop me off and then head back to the beach,” you say looking down at your fingers as you trace the stitching of his leather seats.

When he doesn’t answer right away, you glance over at him. The vein in his neck is standing out boldly against the column of his throat.

“Do I seem like the kind of guy who would leave someone at the ER alone?” he asks, his voice rougher than sandpaper.

“No. No, of course not,” you say emphatically, “That’s why I’m giving you permission.”

“Permission?” he scoffs with a shake of his head.

“Yes, permission,” you say, clipped.

You’re giving him an out, why doesn’t he get that?

He heaves a big sigh and grunts. “Is it… Would you rather have Bob- with his big hands- here instead?” Bradley asks, frustration leaking out around the edges of his words.

“Bob with his big hands?” you repeat baffled, “What does Bob have to do with anything about this?”

“That’s what you said earlier, sweetheart. I’m just citing the source. Or I can call Phoenix? Or…” he pauses glancing at the t-shirt pressed to your head, “Or even Seresin. Once we get you checked in I can call any of them an Uber or something, and they can be there with you, if you don’t want me.”

“No, Rooster, I don’t want anyone else.” You wince at the implication and hope it doesn’t read into it further than the current situation to two of you are wading through like quick sand.

“Ok, good,” he grumbles.

“Great,” you lob back.

His hand tightens on the steering wheel, the knuckles turning white, “Then where is this even coming from?” The action makes his thick forearm flex in this most delicious of ways that you’d appreciate more if you didn’t feel the anger simmering low in your stomach.

“It’s pretty damn clear that you’d rather be back there, Rooster. Or literally anywhere else right now.” You flip down the sun visor with more force than it deserves, regretting that you gave him his sunglasses back when the bright California sun in your eyes turns your headache into a full-blown migraine.

“Of course, I’d rather be anywhere else!” he says hotly, tossing his sunglasses back in your lap, “Do you think I like that you’re hurt and that we’re on our way to the hospital?” You shove them on your face with an angry huff.

A car speeds by blaring their horn as they pass by.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Fuck off,” he grunts but speed of the Bronco doesn’t change, “Asshole.”

Bradley’s driving five miles under the posted limit, and you know for a fact he religiously drives at least ten miles over. And his turns have been smoother than butter, as if he is trying not to jostle you anymore than you’d already been today.

You are so tired of this hot and cold thing that he’s doing. His words and his deeds weren’t going hand in hand. He keeps giving you the cold shoulder, but is also so in tune with your every movement and need.

Gingerly, you angle yourself in your seat to look at him better, resting your tired left arm on the back of your seat and taking in his strong profile.

“Why are you being like this?” you demand, waving your free hand in a vaguely in his general direction.

“Like what? I’m not being like anything,” he retorts, making the same vague hand gesture as you did a moment earlier.

And oh, if that doesn’t fill your chest with hot indignation. That low simmering anger has turned into a full roiling boil as you shift in your seat trying to get your ankle in a position where it doesn’t hurt.

“Seriously, Rooster? I can feel tension rolling off of you in waves. You’ve been like this since everything turned to complete shit on the beach. I didn’t mean to ruin your day, I’m just trying to figure out how to make things better,” you bite out unable to keep things bottled up anymore.

He sucks in a sharp breath, “Are you kidding me right now? You think you ruined my day?” He glances from the road to you and back again, his brown eyes wide and searching.

“Yes?” Or so you’d thought until you’d seen the shock written all over his face, but now you weren’t so sure. It’s like you’ve dumped ice water on him instead of simply calling him out. “I feel like you’re taking it out on me and I don’t know why.”

“Jesus Christ,” Rooster swears under his breath, shaking his head. “I’m so damn sorry, sweetheart. I’m mad at myself, because I ruined your day.  I should have been more careful, I should have been looking out for you. It’s not like you’re hard to miss in that swimsuit.” Your cheeks heat up at the comment, but you choose to ignore it.

Misery drips from his words like spilled ink off a page. You knew he was upset, but you didn’t realize he was upset about that. That he’s shouldering this fluke of fate as if it is his burden to bear. Some of the anger you’ve been feeling leaves your body like the tide washing out back out to sea. You’re still upset at him for how he has been acting up until this point, but you’re not mad at him about that.

“Bradley, no. It was an accident.”

“Yeah, an accident I’m responsible for,” he says hoarsely, rubbing roughly at his forehead. ���God, I can still hear the sound it made when you hit that rock and it makes me feel sick. I would give anything to undo that moment. I need you to know that.”

He is being so hard on himself and your heart squeezes, this time in sympathy rather than hurt. He didn’t place that rock in the sand, the both of you were victims of circumstance.

“It could have happened to anyone. It could have been anyone,” you press delicately, trying to get him to hear you, shifting in your seat again still uncomfortable.

The sunshine bounces off of his slumped shoulders as he sighs raggedly.

“But it happened to you and it’s my fault. You’re bleeding, you’re in pain, and you’ve been crying. And it’s because of me.” He reaches down with his right hand and lifts up your leg so that you can rest it on his thigh, some of the ache alleviating immediately. He asks quietly, “That better?”

“Yes, thank you,” you murmur. He looks so upset, and all you want to do is curl into his lap. You want to hold him and you want to be held by him. “You know I don’t blame you, right?”

You expect him to move his hand back to the steering wheel, but he keeps it on your leg. His thumb stroking your still slightly sandy shin. Your cheery toenail polish at odds with the color blooming around your ankle.

Bradley’s throat bobs as he swallows hard, “Yeah, I do. I know that. But I still blame myself.”

The Bronco rolls to a soft stop at the light. There’s enough traffic that you know you’ll be here for a bit, and so does he since he turns in his seat to look fully at you. You take his sunglasses off, tucking them into the pocket of his shirt that rests above your heart, so nothing stands between his brown eyes and yours.

“So, you’re going to keep beating yourself up over it and icing me out? Making me feel worse? For what, Bradley? Because you’re a glutton for punishment? That’s not fair to me or to you.”

“Shit,” he mutters, his left hand running through his curls. “You’re right and I’m so sorry. I’ve been in my head feeling so damn guilty that I’ve been such an asshole. Can you forgive me?”

You’re about to answer him that when a horn startles you, making you jump in the leather seat. You see the light is green, the car that had been in front of you is gliding through the intersection passing under a blue sign pointing the way to the hospital.

“Bradley, the light.”

The car behind the two of you honks their horn again.

“They can wait. This is important, you are important. Do you forgive me?” There’s an underscore of need that punctuates his question.

“Yes, of course,” you say easily and sincerely. There’s so much remorse in his eyes, you would have forgiven him with that look alone.

“Thank you,” he breathes out in relief. And then he smiles at you for the first time since the beach and that ache in your heart is completely soothed, bandaged by that soft way he is looking at you.

Atlas no longer, he can simply be Bradley.

He takes his foot off the brake and by some miracle he’s able to make it through the light before it turns red again. You can see the tall structure of the parking lot near the hospital poking out above the line of the treetops.

The destination is closer than ever, but there are still things on your mind.

“And you aren’t an asshole, Bradley. But your bedside manner could definitely use some work,” you tease with a smile of your own.

“Baby, I’ve been trying to show you my bedside manner, but you keep holding me at arm’s length,” he groans dramatically.

The idea of experiencing Bradley Bradshaw’s bedside manner makes you feel all kinds of weak in the knees, even as you’re seated in his Bronco with your leg propped up in his lap, his big hand skating up and down along your shin comfortingly.

“How can you even say that with a straight face? You’ve never made a move!” you exclaim incredulously, “I was even the one to ask for your phone number, if you remember.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I hit on you all the time,” he argues with your favorite brand of Bradshaw banter, “I’ve been waiting for you to give me the green light, sweetheart.”

“I thought you were supposed to be pretty and smart,” you smirk.

He barks a laugh and the last tendrils of all the tension and all the pressure that had been swirling around you like a marine layer evaporates.

“You saying I’ve had the green light this whole time?” He looks over at you with a boyish smile, you like the way you feel when he looks at you like this.

“What I’m saying, Bradley, is if you’d have actually asked me out I would have said yes.” You press your toes into the muscle of his thick thigh and immediately regret it, wincing as pain ripples around your ankle.

He makes a sympathetic sound deep in his chest, “Sounds like I’ve been an idiot.”

“A very pretty one,” you allow, leaning your aching head back against the back seat.

“At least there’s that,” he concedes good-naturedly as he pulls into the parking lot, turning on his blinker for a spot opening up near the entrance to the Emergency Room by some twist of fate, one that’s in your favor this time.

Bradley pulls into the empty spot and kills the engine turning to you. He gently eases your foot back down onto the sandy floormat of the Bronco and leans into unbuckle your seatbelt.

He’s so close now looking up at you from under his eyelashes, and your breath catches in your throat. He moves closer, you can see the bits of hazel that surround his pupils. Your eyes flutter close and you tilt your head up, lips parting at the anticipation of his kiss.

There’s no holding back the noise of dissatisfaction you make when his lips press a tender kiss to your cheek. You lean into him wanting to feel, wanting him to give you more. His warm breath coasts over your skin as he chuckles. You can feel the way his lips are pulled up into a smile.

“I’m a gentleman, sweetheart,” he says as he pulls away, his eyes lingering on your lips. “My mom raised me not to go for the kiss on the first date. Or ones with head wounds and potential concussions.”

“Some first date,” you lament jokingly, looking in at the fluorescent lights awaiting you inside the hospital. You’d rather skip over this part entirely, but you’re ready to be done with holding Jake’s shirt to your head. “Nothing like insurance cards and scrubs to really set the mood.”

“Mmm. How about this, after we’re done here, I’ll take you through whatever drive-thru you want-”

“In-N-Out,” you cut in without a second thought. The novelty of it still hasn’t worn off on you, even if the fries are terrible.

“Ok,” he grins, “I’ll take you through in In-N-Out and get you your number two combo with mustard and grilled onions with a vanilla shake.” He pauses waiting for your nod of approval, looking more than pleased with himself when you acknowledge he got your order right.

“I like the sound of this so far,” you hum.

“Well that’s good. Since it’ll be our first date, I want to set that bar high,” he says giving you a wink. And there are those butterflies again, this time you don’t try to catch them with a net. They’re free to flutter around as they wish.

“If you really want to impress me, you’ll also take me through the McDonald’s drive-thru for their fries,” you muse.

“Done.”

“I was kidding,” you laugh, shaking your head at him disbelievingly and thoroughly charmed.

“Well, I wasn’t. So after we get you fed, give or take some fries, I will bring you home. I’ll get you whatever you need, I want to make sure you’re comfortable. Think you might be on crutches for a bit, sweetheart,” he says softly, playing with the ends of your hair. “And then in the morning, if you’re up for it, I’ll take you out for breakfast. Or bring you breakfast. Whatever you want. We can call that date number two.”

“And then you’ll kiss me?”

“And then I’ll kiss you,” he promises, offering you a crooked pinky finger. You beam and you wrap your own around his.

He slips out of the driver’s seat leaving you to contemplate the terms of his offer as he rounds the front of the Bronco. The nurses are going to get an eyeful of him in only those snug jean shorts and thin white tank. You make a mental note to avoid looking at him if they have to connect you to a heart rate monitor, he doesn’t need to know the effect he has on you. Not yet anyways.

“I have counteroffer,” you announce turning your body towards him as he opens your door for you.

“Let’s hear it, baby,” he says with a grin that almost makes you forget how bad your head and ankle hurt, “Shoot.”

“We still go to In-N-Out, but then in the morning you make me breakfast in bed with some of those famous Bradshaw pancakes I’ve heard about,” you say, as he steps in between your legs, “Seems like a good way to work on that bedside manner of yours.”

“I think you’re going to like my bedside manner, sweetheart,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek.

You tilt your head at him, taking in the sunkissed strands in his hair and the affection in his eyes, “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

“Guess we will,” he rasps.

Rooster drops another sweet kiss to your cheek, whispering for you to stay put, and then he struts off towards the automatic doors of the Emergency Room. Leaving you alone with the butterflies in your stomach and the hope in your heart.

You dig your phone out of your straw tote and check the time, doing the math in your head.

There are a few messages from Nat and other people on the team already checking in, but you know you’ll have time to reply to them later as you wait with Bradley sitting by your side.

You look up and see he’s got a wheelchair now and is making his way back to you, wearing a soft smile on his face just for you.

Only seventeen more hours until you get to kiss Bradley Bradshaw and you can’t wait.

You’ve got that forever feeling about him.

Oh, oh, oh.

Thank you for reading! Rock on. Oh that joke was schist, I'll see myself out.

This was written as part of @roosterforme's Rocktober Playlist! You can check out all the other great submissions here!

The song that inspired this story was Paula Abdul's "Straight Up"

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[st7rnioioss]

ੈ‧₊˚ bags, clairo

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: matt sturniolo x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you were doing a challenge for chris's girlfriends youtube. then you and matts song came on!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: swearing, fluff, very fluffy

a/n: i LVOE this request, thank so so much. btw, sorry if i misunderstood the thing and matt and the reader arent in a relationship HELP. anyway, i literally love bags by clairo so much.

this is based off this request!

───────── 🐇 You stood in the triplet’s kitchen with Madi and Chris’s girlfriend Nat, short for Natalie.

For Natalie’s channel, you were doing a “baking deaf, blind and mute” challenge, where one had a blindfold on, one with headphones on, and one with tape covering their mouth.

Nat introduced the video, immediately getting on with the challenge.

“MADI, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” Nat laughed loudly, due to her sudden loss of hearing, almost falling backwards.

“Nat, I can’t fucking see!” Madi yelled back, trying to pour the flour nicely into the bowl. You stood beside them, uncontrollably muffled-laughing because of the duct tape over your lips.

You tried your best to help them, but it was very hard to do when you couldn’t communicate normally with them. From time to time, you took over Madi’s or Nat’s tasks, pushing her out of the way.

The triplets were sitting on the couch behind the camera. Chris was having the time of his life, watching his girlfriend terribly fail at baking a few cupcakes. Nick was for the most part on his phone or going back and forth from his room and the couch. 

Matt was also having fun, watching you try to get Madi and Nat out of the way so you could stop them from pouring batter on the floor. You had always been just a tad bit closer to Matt than Nick or Chris, until he finally confessed his mutual feelings for you.

⋆

“Okay, so we just put the cupcakes in the oven, so now we’re going to work on the icing. I’m gonna be blindfolded, Madi’s is gonna be mute, and Y/n will be deaf. Alright, let’s start!” Nat clapped her hands, handing you the headphones.

You put your hair down, the headphones sitting comfortably. Nat grabbed her phone, turning on the song she had stopped mid-through.

You didn’t recognize the first song, the second one being “yes, and?” by Ariana Grande. For the most part, you were standing beside your two friends humming along, occasionally smiling at Matt who was looking at you. He smiled back at you, adverting his gaze back to the mixing-bowl with the milk and vanilla.

“MADI, YOU’RE SPILLING THE MILK.” You yelled way too loudly, grabbing Madi by her shoulders with one hand, the other one stabilizing the bowl.

⋆

One song later, Madi was mixing the icing together to a thicker consistency. Your headphones were silent for a second, before your favorite song, Bags by Clario, started playing.

“GUYS, I FUCKING LOVE THIS SONG!” You yelled, trying to jump along with the beat in the song. Madi and Nat completely took over as you danced along. 

Matt looked up from his phone due to your yelling. Of course, he didn’t know what song was playing, but he was curious. You backed away from Madi and Nat, dancing along to Bags.

“EVERY SECOND COUNTS, I DON’T WANNA TALK TO YOU ANYMORE, AND” You laughed, singing loudly along. Matt’s face almost instantly lit up, due to this being your guys’s favourite song.

Almost everywhere you went together alone, Matt was listening to it with you (even when he was alone). On late-night car rides, cuddling in his room, or quietly singing in the triplet’s car videos, it was your song.

Your relationship was kept secret from the triplet’s fandom since Matt didn’t want you to receive hate or backlash. And you didn’t mind, as long as you both were happy, it was all that mattered. Currently, you have been going strong for two and a half years.

“ALL THESE LITTLE GAMES, YOU CAN CALL ME BY THE NAME I GAVE YOU!” Matt was beaming, staring in complete awe. If he wasn’t already madly in love with you, he was now.

Nat was continuously gently slapping your arm to stop you from dancing, but you didn’t budge. Almost like you were singing to Matt, you tried to point secretly at him, a smile immediately growing on your face as you locked eyes with him.

“CAN YOU SEE ME? I’M WAITING FOR THE RIGHT TIME,” You kept going, dancing, jumping, spinning, all sorts of expressions of excitement were expressed right then and there.

Nat and Madi had given up a long time ago, placing the rack with the cupcakes on the counter.

⋆

The following Thursday, Nat released the video to her channel.

You were cuddled up with Matt in your shared his bed, both mindlessly scrolling through social media. Matt was checking his Instagram, you on TikTok. One particular TikTok caught your eye.

An edit of you and Matt to Bags by Clairo. The clip of him mentioning the song in their Wednesday video, followed along by your singing.

You smiled to yourself, opening the comment section to find multiple people suspecting a possible relationship between the two of you. A bunch of people agreed, and a bunch of people turned it down.

You liked the edit, scrolling further, only to find more, more and more edits. Matt noticed your giggles, looking up from his phone to look at yours.

“Are you watching edits of.. us?” He smiled, putting his phone on his nightstand before turning back around to wrap an arm around your waist.

“Yeah, look. There’s a fuck ton of them. To Bags!” You smiled from ear to ear, a faint blush creeping up on your cheeks. Matt stared at you in awe, looking back at your phone to see more edits. He couldn’t stop smiling either, watching you so excited to see edits of you two to your favorite song.

“Oh my God, I love you,” Matt chuckled, pressing a few kisses from your forehead, down the side of your face.

“Matt, I lov- it- it tickles, stop!” You laughed loudly, the tickling sensation making you drop your phone. He couldn’t stop smiling, softly planting a kiss to your lips.

He pulled away slowly, his eyes glued on yours. “Can you send me that second one you showed me?”

⋆

a/n: i hope it lived up to your expectations arghhh, love the request once again, thank you thank you.

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lilies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn let me know if you'd like to be added!

[woso-dreamzzz]

Penalty

Barcelona Femení + Misa Rodríguez x Hardersson!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Someone's ego is bruised

She was hot and sweaty but above all, Misa was tired.

She’d even go as far as saying she was exhausted.

“Ale!” She complains as another ball goes rocketing past her to the back of the net,” Come on! We’ve been at this for hours!”

On the edge of the pitch, lay both Paños and Cata. They’d been Alexia’s first two victims, having been there since before Misa arrived.

“I’m just warming up,” Alexia replies, jogging on the spot before kicking another ball past Misa’s body,” I’m practicing.”

“For what?” Paños asks,” You’ve not told us anything. Are you doing another charity match? Because this is extreme.”

“No, but that’s a good idea,” Alexia says thoughtfully before letting loose another rocket that streaks past Misa’s outstretched arms.

“She’s finally gone crazy,” Cata groans,” I told you this would happen. She’s gone crazy and now we’re all suffering.”

“Again,” Alexia orders as Misa rolls the balls back to her,” We’ve still got a little bit of time before-“

“How long have you guys been here?” Patri appears out of nowhere, strolling onto the pitch  with a group of people trailing behind her,” God, you’ve killed Cata.”

“Okay,” Misa snaps,” What the hell is going on?! I thought retirement was the opportunity for us to relax. Ale’s gone absolutely batshit!”

Patri grins, all crooked and mischievous. “Her ego’s bruised. The new Barca keeper hasn’t let any penalties in ever. Alexia thought she’d be the exception.”

Misa racks her brain for who the new Barcelona keeper is, thinking for a few moments before,” Oh, Eriksson and Harder’s daughter, right?” She laughs. “Wounded your pride, did she, Ale? It’s okay. You’re not in your prime anymore-“

“I’m just out of practice,” Alexia says to Misa before turning to Patri,” How did you find out? Did you blab to everyone?”

A group of the old Barcelona team have invaded the pitch. Pina, Marta and Caro have all set up a picnic blanket as Paredes and her wife hand out juice boxes and to-go sandwiches. Jana and Bruna are squirting each other with water as Mapi and Ingrid roll their eyes.

Vicky and Salma have arrived too, talking to each other as Ona and Aitana come strolling closer.

Behind them, comes Patri’s cousin and you.

You’re talking softly to her, heads bowed as you speak whilst carrying a bag.

You’re dressed casually in just some tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt. Your jacket is flung over your shoulders and Natalia fiddles with the collar.

You’re much taller than you were the first time Misa met you. You’re taller than her definitely, taller than Alexia too. Misa’s eyes cut to Ingrid and she wonders briefly if all Scandis are tall or if you and Ingrid are just outliers.

“Morning,” You chirp, digging through your bag for your gloves.

“Ten euros on Alexia getting one in,” Jana says and Misa watches as Talia rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be stupid. Alexia’s getting nothing past her. Mi vida is the greatest keeper in the world. She doesn’t let me score against her without a fight. There’s no way Alexia can do something I can’t.”

Patri laughs, ruffling her cousin’s hair. “You think you’re better than la reina? You’re cute, Nat.”

Natalia huffs, darting away so she can smooth her hair down. “She’s not getting anything past her.”

“I’ll put five on y/n playing with her,” Ingrid pipes up,” Look at her, she’s already not taking this seriously. She’s teasing Ale.”

You’re grinning, swinging your arms easily before dropping down to tie laces that were already tied.

Alexia paces in front of the penalty spot like a lion.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

You take your time, inspecting the goalposts before whistling sharply. Without even looking, Talia chucks you your drink and you catch it one-handed. You take a long drink and Aitana giggles as you carelessly throw it behind you.

You clap your gloved hands twice before finally taking your position.

Alexia tries to catch you off guard. She doesn’t run up, she just kicks.

You leap up on one leg and pluck it from the air.

She tries to put the next into the left bottom corner but you’re already diving in that direction before the ball has fully left her foot.

“See!” Natalia swoons to everyone who will listen,” My girlfriend is the best in the world.”

Alexia’s penalties get more aggressive as time goes on but you collect them all without little fanfare.

Her last kick had you winking as you roll the ball back to her and Misa had to smother her life when Alexia’s jaw clenches.

“Give up, Ale!” Mapi yells from the sidelines,” Save what little dignity you have left!”

Ingrid smacks her on the shoulder but offers up her own teasing. “She’s already got a list of veterans she’s beaten in penalties! Don’t make her add you too!”

“She has a list?” Misa asks and Ingrid nods.

“It’s a long list,” Ingrid giggles,” She’s been collecting us like Pokémon. I think Chloe Kelly got put on the list last week. Sixty-nine mile per hour shot, y/n collected it like it was nothing.”

“Kid’s got skill,” Paños says, whistling lowly,” Did you see that goal in the World Cup last summer? She’s got flare too.”

“It was so cool!” Talia says excitedly, practically barging her way into the conversation,” The shocked face after it was so cute.”

Natalia waxes poetic about you for the next half an hour as Alexia overloads you with penalties.

None of them go past you.

“You’re so gross,” Patri complains as Talia finally finishes her latest you-centric lecture,” Can you go be in love somewhere else?”

“Nat!” Paredes calls out,” Come and grab a drink, please! It’s very hot today.”

Misa agrees It’s is very hot and she can’t believe a Scandi like you is easily keeping up with Alexia in such heat.

Aitana calls out to you in Catalan and you turn your head to respond, perfect Catalan flowing from your mouth as you reply.

While you’re distracted, Alexia strikes.

She kicks the ball hard. It’s going in the opposite direction to where you’re looking but you still move, like you’ve seen her kick out of the corner of your eye.

You intercept the ball with your chest, letting it fall to your knee and then your foot, where you boot it straight back to Alexia, who has to duck or face a ball to the stomach.

“Sorry!” You call out to her, face suddenly goes bright red when you realise how automatically you reacted.

Alexia sighs and just lays backwards on the ground in defeat.

“Another one for the list then,” Mapi laughs as you make your way over.

You sit by Aitana, who offers you a drink that you take gratefully.

“Hey,” Misa says, sticking her hand out to you,” I’m Misa.”

You shake it. “I know. We met at the world cup when I was little.”

“That was a while ago. It’s nice to see you again.”

“You too.”

She sits on your other side. “So, no penalties whatsoever?”

“None,” You reply,” It’s my special skill.”

“How?”

“She’s super smart,” Natalia says as she appears. She drapes herself over your back and props her chin up on your shoulder. “So smart. She has a degree from Cambridge.”

Your cheeks go red. “You don’t need to keep telling people that.”

“A degree from Cambridge!” Talia doesn’t pay any attention to what you’ve just said. “And she speaks so many languages! She’s working on her Basque right now!”

“Talia,” You complain,” She didn’t ask.”

“But she should know,” Talia insists,” Maybe if you bragged more then I wouldn’t have to do it for you.”

“I’m not that smart.”

Aitana scoffs. “You picked up Ancient Greek in a few months,” She says,” I think we should all be thankful you decided to do football and not take over the world instead.”

You laugh. “I’m happy I stuck with football too.”

The air is filled with ease even as Alexia crawls out of her defeat and joins you all on the picnic blanket. It’s the first time you’ve really hung out with the old Barcelona team. You know a few of them through the coaching staff, a few more through Talia but having them all together makes you feel a little lightheaded.

Cata and Paños in particular seem in awe of your skills and you used to admire those two nearly as much as Zećira. It’s all a bit surreal.

Alexia ends up next to you.

“If I was in my prime,” She says,” I would have scored past you.” She’s being deadly serious and it shocks a laugh out of you.

“Do you really think so?”

Her face betrays her true feelings even as she nods.

“We should get Jenni to try a few against her!” Jana insists.

“I’ll text her,” Marta says,” I think I saw somewhere she’s in the city. Maybe we can get her here now.”

Alexia doesn’t bother answering them. She looks at you, really looks at you. She’s scrutinising you.

Her eyes are narrowed as she stares before her features soften and she bumps her shoulder with yours. “One day,” She says,” I’m going to give you your Ballon d'Or.”

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part Seven

Pairings: Bucky x reader AU

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Angst, idiots in love lol

A/N: Almost done part 8, if you have anywhere you'd like to see the fic go or a certain scene you want dm me :) always open to ideas i just make this shit up as i go lmaooo

----

Your apartment is a swirl of energy as Wanda and Natasha flit around you, each one fussing over the details of your look as you finish your glass of wine. Natasha is practically vibrating with excitement, rummaging through her makeup bag, while Wanda holds out another pair of earrings for you to try. They’re both doing their best to hype you up for this date with Dean, a guy Natasha knows from work.

“You look amazing,” Wanda says, stepping back to admire the final touches.

Natasha grins, tipping her glass to you with a smirk. “Dean isn’t going to know what hit him.”

You laugh, a bit giddy from the wine and the thrill of doing something for yourself. The nerves are there too, though—you haven’t been on a date in ages, and the whole situation feels slightly surreal. Just as you’re about to put your glass down, the front door opens, and loud laughter and chatter fill the entryway. You freeze, your pulse spiking.

“I thought they were supposed to be down the street at the bar?” you hiss, looking at Natasha with wide eyes.

She frowns, confusion flashing across her face. “They are supposed to be.”

Natasha strides out of the room, muttering under her breath as she goes to investigate. You hear her confront them, her voice sharp with irritation. “Why are you guys here? You’re supposed to be at the bar!”

Bucky’s voice cuts through the hallway, a little louder than usual. “This is my place too, Nat. I pay rent here, so don’t expect me to stay away.”

Natasha lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, whatever. Just don’t ruin this for her.”

Before you can catch more of the conversation, Natasha’s phone pings, and her whole expression shifts as she squeals, rushing back into the room. “He’s here!” she exclaims, bouncing on her toes. “Dean just texted—he’s waiting downstairs!”

Your stomach does a flip, and you take a deep breath to calm the nerves. “Is he… is he coming up, or am I going down?”

Natasha studies you for a second, eyebrows raised. “It’s up to you. What do you want?”

You bite your lip, the idea of Dean seeing you in the apartment suddenly feeling way too intimate, especially with Bucky just down the hall. “I’ll go down,” you say, nodding firmly.

Natasha grins, quickly typing a message to Dean. “Alright, you’ve got three minutes to compose yourself, babe.”

With one last look in the mirror, you step out of the room, heart pounding as you walk down the hallway. The boys are in the living room, and as soon as Sam spots you, he lets out a low whistle, his eyes widening.

“Wow,” he says, looking you up and down with an approving grin. “You clean up real nice.”

You can feel the heat rise in your cheeks as Steve and Bucky turn around. Steve’s gaze softens, and he steps forward, his eyes warm and admiring. “You look beautiful,” he says, his voice gentle. “Dean’s the luckiest guy in the world.”

He looks at you with an intensity you’ve never seen from him before, a look that’s almost… longing. You give him a grateful smile, feeling oddly touched. “Thanks, Stevie,” you say softly.

Bucky, however, is still standing a little behind Steve, his jaw slightly slack as he stares at you, seeming momentarily at a loss for words. His gaze travels from your face to the dress, his expression a mix of something you can’t quite name, something unreadable and raw. For a second, the noise and chaos around you fades, and it’s just the two of you, caught in that moment.

Sam, sensing the tension, jumps in with a grin. “Damn, girl, you look hot. Sure you don’t wanna go on a second date with me instead?”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Sorry, Sam. Dean would have to blow it pretty badly for you to get a chance.”

Natasha claps her hands, breaking up the moment as she walks over to you. “Text me if you get a chance or if you need an emergency out. And I need all the details afterward.” She gives you a quick, tight hug, whispering in your ear, “You’re going to be amazing. Just have fun.”

You nod, smiling gratefully as you give her hand a squeeze. With one last look at your friends, you make your way to the door, the nerves hitting you all over again.

As you head downstairs, the sound of laughter and chatter fades behind you, but back in the apartment, the energy shifts. Steve watches you go, a glint of something deep and wistful lingering in his gaze. Natasha catches it, her brows knitting together as she studies his face, watching the way he’s so intently focused on you, even after you’ve disappeared down the stairs.

Natasha squints, suspicion curling in her thoughts. Steve’s expression isn’t the typical friendly warmth she’s used to seeing; there’s something almost pained, raw, and it’s as if a puzzle suddenly clicks into place. Her mouth parts slightly as she realizes—Steve isn’t just fond of you; he’s in love with you. She composes herself quickly, straightening as Steve gives her a look, as if sensing her scrutiny. He shrugs, brushing off the intensity of the moment, and cracks open a beer, plopping onto the couch like nothing’s happened.

Meanwhile, Bucky is still standing, staring at the door as if you might reappear any second. His gaze is fixed, a blend of surprise and… something else. Wanda notices, shaking her head with a quiet scoff.

“You know, you had your chance, Bucky,” she says, her tone sharper than usual.

The room falls silent, everyone taken aback by her bluntness. Wanda’s usually gentle, never one to make waves, but there’s a bite to her words now, and her eyes flash with something almost like annoyance as she glances at him.

Sam, trying to break the tension, chuckles and sidles up to her, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “Damn, Wanda, I knew you had some fire in you!” He laughs, grabbing her glass. “Come on, let’s get you a refill.” He leads her toward the kitchen, topping off her wine glass as they disappear into the next room, leaving Bucky, Natasha, and Steve in the thick silence.

Natasha crosses her arms, her gaze locked on Bucky with a mix of frustration and disbelief. “Really, Bucky?” she says, her voice low and pointed.

Bucky blinks, snapping out of his daze. “What?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t stand there looking like that. Just a week ago, you were talking about how you were going to do something about it. You said you were finally going to tell her. But you didn’t. And now you’re acting shocked that she’s moving on? Seriously?”

Bucky’s mouth opens, but no words come out. He fumbles, his hands tightening into fists. “It’s not that simple, Nat…”

“Actually, it is,” Natasha says, her voice steely. “You’ve had years, Bucky. Years to figure it out, and now that she’s found someone who sees her, someone who’s willing to step up and actually do something about it, now you’re all caught up? Do you even know how unfair that is?”

Bucky clenches his jaw, his gaze drifting to the floor. “I… I didn’t think she’d actually… go for someone else.”

Natasha lets out a frustrated sigh, her tone bordering on exasperation. “Well, maybe you should have thought about that. She deserves to be happy, Bucky. She deserves someone who’s not afraid to act, someone who can show her they care instead of just assuming she’ll be there whenever he decides he’s ready.”

Bucky’s face flushes with a mix of frustration and guilt. “It wasn’t that simple. I didn’t want to lose her if things went wrong…”

Natasha’s expression softens, but only slightly. “No, Bucky, you were just scared. You were scared to take a risk and put yourself out there. But she’s spent all these years waiting, and you couldn’t even see what you had. And now that she’s going out with someone who’s willing to treat her like she deserves, you think you can just… act like she still owes you her heart?”

Bucky stares at her, words failing him, the weight of her words hitting him hard. He’s known Natasha to be blunt, but he didn’t expect her to be this brutally honest.

Natasha lets out a sigh, glancing at Steve, who’s been sitting quietly, observing, his eyes downcast. She notices the way he’s twisting his beer bottle in his hands, almost like he’s trying to keep himself from saying something. The tension in his face is palpable, and she realizes with a pang that he’s feeling this conversation deeply, maybe more than he’d like to admit.

She softens her tone slightly, though her words are still firm. “I hate to say it, Bucky, but… you snoozed, and you lost. She deserves more than to wait around forever for someone to decide if they can handle loving her.”

Bucky’s eyes darken, his jaw tightening as he looks away, as if trying to avoid the weight of her words. “I thought I was protecting her. I didn’t want to mess things up between us.”

Natasha’s gaze sharpens, her voice almost a whisper. “Protecting her from what? From being loved the way she deserves? Because that’s what you’re doing, Bucky. You’re keeping her from happiness because you’re afraid to make a move. But she’s not going to wait forever. She’s already stopped waiting.”

She glances toward Steve again, catching the way his shoulders slump slightly, the sad, resigned look in his eyes. Natasha’s lips press together as she puts two and two together. She’d been watching him closely all night, and now, looking at him, it’s clear as day. He’s in love with you too. The realization sends a pang through her, and she composes herself, though the sadness lingers in her eyes.

She turns back to Bucky, her voice softer but no less firm. “You can’t have it both ways, Buck. Either you want her, or you don’t. And if you don’t, then let her be happy with someone who actually sees her, someone who isn’t afraid to let her in.”

Her words hang heavily in the air. Steve shifts uncomfortably, lifting his beer to his lips as if to hide the look in his eyes. Bucky lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair.

--

As you step out of your apartment building and spot Dean right away. He’s leaning against his car, a relaxed smile spreading across his face as he straightens up when he sees you. He’s tall, broad-shouldered like Bucky, but everything else about him is different. Where Bucky is dark and a bit rough around the edges, Dean is blond, clean-cut, and sharp in a tailored navy-blue button-down and jeans.

“Hey,” he says, his smile widening as he takes you in. “Wow. You look… incredible.”

You can’t help but blush, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Thank you. And you’re not looking so bad yourself.”

He laughs, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

You nod, slipping your arm through his, feeling a surprising ease settle over you. There’s no tension, no weight from the past—just the excitement of a first date and the feeling that tonight might actually be something good.

The two of you end up at a cozy bistro down the street, the kind of place with low lighting and an intimate atmosphere. It’s bustling but not too loud, with the hum of conversation and the soft clink of silverware filling the air.

As you settle into your seats and glance over the menu, Dean looks up with a playful grin. “So, full disclosure—I know next to nothing about wine. But I figured I’d go with the flow since you seem like the classy type.”

You laugh, glancing down at the wine list. “Well, we can just wing it together. I’m more of a ‘whatever tastes good’ kind of person.”

“Perfect,” he says, signalling the waiter over. “A bottle of your favourite wine, then. Surprise us.”

When the waiter leaves, Dean leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his attention completely focused on you. “So, Natasha talks about you a lot. I feel like I already know a little about you… but I’d rather hear it from you.”

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh, she does? Should I be worried?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, no. She’s your biggest fan, actually. She said you’re the one everyone goes to for advice. Like, you’re the unofficial therapist of the friend group.”

“Oh, gosh,” you say, laughing and covering your face. “She makes me sound way too put together, I’m really just good at listening.”

“Well,” he says, a twinkle in his eye, “I’m going to test that tonight. You’ll have to sit there while I unload all my existential woes.”

“Lay them on me,” you reply, grinning. “I’m ready.”

He leans back, pretending to think. “Okay, first existential crisis: why are Brussels sprouts so divisive? Seriously, no one’s just ‘meh’ about them, people either love them or hate them.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “I know, right? I mean, they’re just tiny cabbages. It’s not that deep!”

“Exactly!” he says, pointing at you with an exaggerated look of triumph. “See, you get it…. and now I know I can trust you. This date is officially off to a solid start.”

You laugh, feeling genuinely at ease. When the wine arrives, the two of you clink glasses, settling into a comfortable rhythm of laughter and banter.

“So, tell me,” Dean says, after the waiter clears your plates. “If you could pick anywhere in the world to live, where would you go?”

You take a sip of wine, thinking it over. “Hmm… somewhere with a mix of city life and nature, I think. I want the excitement, but I’d need a place to escape to, you know?”

He nods, his gaze warm as he listens. “I get that. I’m a city guy myself, but every now and then, I need to get out, hit a hiking trail, or just… breathe.”

“Exactly,” you say, smiling. “Somewhere with balance. Not too much of one or the other.”

He grins, raising his glass again. “To balance, then.”

“To balance,” you echo, clinking glasses with him once more. There’s a spark in his eyes, an ease in his laugh, that makes you feel like you’ve known him longer than just tonight.

The conversation flows seamlessly, with no awkward silences, no scrambling to think of what to say next. You talk about favorite movies, disastrous childhood crushes, and the time you both got stuck in terrible jobs after college—he was an assistant to an eccentric artist, while you worked as a receptionist at a law firm where you barely understood the jargon. He tells stories that have you practically in tears with laughter, like the time his mom signed him up for a tap-dancing class because she was convinced it would help him become more “well-rounded.”

“Tap dancing?” you ask, eyes wide with laughter. “Please tell me there’s a video of this.”

“There’s a video,” he admits, grimacing. “But it’ll never see the light of day. That’s a first-date boundary I’m sticking to.”

You shake your head, laughing. “I respect that. But now I feel like I’ll have to wait for date number two for that one.”

He raises an eyebrow, his grin mischievous. “Date number two, huh? So, you’re already planning to see me again?”

You feel a little thrill at his words, but you play it cool, taking another sip of wine. “Maybe. If you play your cards right.”

“Oh, I’m bringing out my best moves, trust me,” he says, leaning forward conspiratorially. “I’ve already pulled out the Brussels sprouts bit. That’s a crowd favorite.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. “It’s working…I have to admit.”

There’s a warmth in his gaze as he watches you laugh, and for once, you realize you’re completely in the moment. You’re not comparing him to anyone, not glancing at the door or waiting for a text, not thinking about Bucky or any of the unresolved feelings you’ve kept buried. Tonight, it’s just you and Dean, and everything feels light and uncomplicated.

“So,” he says after a pause, his tone shifting just slightly, “what’s something you want people to know about you, that most people don’t?”

You blink, surprised by the question. “Wow, that’s a deep one.”

“Hey, I’ve got layers,” he teases, but his smile is gentle, his expression open and curious.

After a moment’s thought, you answer, “I think… I want people to know that I’m stronger than they might think. I don’t always show it, but I’ve been through things that have taught me a lot about who I am and what I want.”

He nods, his gaze thoughtful. “I can see that. And for the record, I think strength isn’t always about what you show. Sometimes, it’s what you keep inside.”

The sincerity in his voice takes you off guard, and you feel your heart skip. “Thank you, Dean. Really.”

“Of course,” he says, his voice warm. “I feel lucky to be here with you tonight.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the kind that doesn’t need filling. When you’re finally ready to leave, he insists on walking you back, saying he wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise. The street is quiet as he walks beside you, his hand close to yours but never crossing the line. You like that about him—his respect, his gentle confidence.

As you reach your building, he stops, looking down at you with a smile that’s both warm and hopeful.

“So, date number two?” he asks, a hint of nervousness in his smile.

You smile, feeling light and happy in a way you haven’t in a long time. “I’d really like that.”

He grins, and before he leaves, he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter. “Goodnight, beautiful,” he says softly.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

You watch him walk away, your heart racing and a smile on your face. As you head upstairs, you realize something incredible—throughout the entire night, your mind hadn’t wandered once. No stray thoughts, no memories pulling you back. Tonight, it had just been you, fully present, fully open, and for the first time in a long time, you feel ready for something new.

[cjjohansson]

what if love isn't enough?

natasha romanoff x reader // part 1...

angst? yes. sad? yes. am i sorry? no x x x

“Were you going to tell me?” you breathe out into the room, Natasha stills when she hears your voice. 

“Tell you what?” She tries to act innocent but you know better. You won’t fall into her games right now. 

“That you're seeing some girl, some doctor in the medbay?” Natasha stays quiet, and part of you feels like you can hear your heart break. 

“Ha, ok, nice. See you around Natasha.” And now it is her turn to feel like she can hear her own heart break too. 

You and Natasha have a long history. Years of flirting turned into a one night stand, which led to multiple dates. Which then turned into a relationship that floated naturally, without one another having to say a thing, without actually having to verbalize it. You shared a bedroom; well not for about 3 months now, that’s how long it has been since you two separated over a stupid argument about how she didn't want you to go on a solo mission. Nights spent in that room worshiping each other, treating each other's wounds after a bad mission, comforting each other after horrible nightmares, sharing i love you’s…

How can you be with someone for 5 years and claim you love them so much that it hurts, to then start seeing someone only 2 weeks after breaking up? 

Because according to a conversation you overheard in medbay, they’ve been seeing each other for just under 3 months. 

You mindlessly drift through the compound, ignoring everyone who tries to speak to you, you can’t do this right now. 

How can you do this when only 5 days ago, she was in your bed breathlessly moaning your name after you both needed some comfort after a bad mission?

How could she do this? That’s all that was running through your head as you approached the punching bag in the corner of the gym. 

How could she start seeing someone so quickly after you broke up? How could she then sleep with you while seeing someone else and not even tell you? How could she rip your heart out all over again? 

You hated it. You hated how much emotional power she held over you. 

But you guessed that’s what you get for falling in love right?

“Hey.”

“Fuck off.” You huff to Bucky as he approaches the bag and holds it still, taking the force from your punches like they're nothing to him at all.

“You know…” That makes you stop. Your hands falling to your sides as you stare at him confused.

“I know what Buck?” You watch his eyes widen as he takes a step back, putting some distance between you. 

“I was going to tell you, I was, I promise you. We both just got caught up in missions and when I was here you weren't, and vice versa you know?”

“I know what James? Do not make me ask a third time!” Your anger is building, you already know the answer.

“About Nat and Dr-”

“Fuck you.” 

“Y/n…”

“NO! FUCK YOU!”

“Calm down, let me talk!” 

“No, you don't get to talk to me. You’ve been my best friend since we were 3 years old! You kept this from me! How could you! How could you…” You sob as you turn and walk out the room. You can’t be here. Your own best friend knew? Who else knew? Everyone most likely if Bucky did. 

You find yourself mindlessly drifting back through the compound, only this time no one stops to try and talk to you. You can’t imagine you look good right now, you're so close to exploding. 

You end up in your bedroom, walking into your closet to grab a suitcase from the top, dragging it to your bed as you work your way through your drawers and closet, grabbing everything and anything you could get your hands on. 

You need to leave, it is the only thing that you can actually think straight on. If you stay, you won’t survive. It’s been hard enough the past 3 months let alone knowing she is with someone new. 

“Babe…” You don't stop grabbing clothes. You don't bother to fold them, you just throw them straight into the suitcase as quickly as you can.

“Can you let me talk, let me explain.” You stay silent. You can’t even look at her right now. 

“I’m not, ugh, I’m not seeing her. I don’t know what you heard, but you know how rumors spread around here. I’m not seeing her.” You lose it. 

“You're fucking her though, right?” You turn to face her, keeping the distance between you. You're so angry, you're hurt, this is ruining you. 

“Y/n… We broke up.”

“Oh so that just makes it okay to go fuck someone days after we break up? 5 years of my life wasted for what? Did you actually ever even love me? Or did you just love the attention I gave you?” 

“That is not fair. You know I love you, I love you so deeply that it hurts, it aches. But you were the one to walk away, don't try and act like a victim here. YOU LEFT ME! You broke my heart. So you do not have the right to stand here and be upset and angry with me for doing that, when you were the one who walked away first.” That isn’t fair, that isn’t what happened at all. 

“I did NOT walk away. You gave me an ultimatum. I had to go on that mission, you knew I did-”

“YOU DIDN’T! Bucky said he would go instead! The lead up to that mission was driving you crazy, for months you had nightmares, you worked yourself to exhaustion. I tried to be there for you and you pushed me away! I stayed until I couldn't anymore! I couldn't stand by and let you ruin yourself. I left because in return it was ruining me too. Because if I stayed you would have hated me anyway.” Both of you are breathing deeply, the tension flowing around the room. How can any of this be happening? How is any of this fair to either of you?

“I love you. But you didn't love me enough to stay. So I walked away and every step I took, it fucking killed me. I stripped myself bare to you! I gave you so many parts of myself that I have never given to another person before, that I will never give to another person ever again! So yes! I slept with someone, I can hold my hands up and admit that I did. It was soon, and that was a shitting thing to do but you leaving was really fucking shitty too Y/n. I do not owe you an explanation or an apology for how I deal with my own pain, not anymore.” Natasha’s breathing picks up, tears flowing down her cheeks with no intent of stopping any time soon. 

“Natasha…”

“I am not seeing her. I slept with her once. And I have regretted it every single day since it happened. Because she isn’t you, but no one is going to be you, ever. And that’s my burden to carry.” Natasha turns to leave the room but you find yourself rushing towards the door and holding it closed before she can exit. Her back is pressed against your front and all you can smell is the perfume you bought her for valentines day. 

“Stay…”

“How can you expect me to stay when you wouldn’t?” Her forehead rests on the door as she continues to breathe deeply. Her words completely throw you. Because she is right.

“I know that mission drove me crazy, but I need you to understand that I needed to do what I had to do tasha or it would have ruined me even more. They…they ruined me, they took me apart and put me back together wrong over and over as they saw fit, day after day. I was the one who needed to finish it. Not anyone else. Because if I didn’t finish it, it would have eaten me alive for the rest of my life. That night, when I left, all I felt and saw was rage. They stole everything from me, I needed it to be over, and I’m sorry that it meant I had to leave you to be able to do that. But I never meant to hurt you, I never meant to ruin you too. I never meant for any of this Natasha. Believe me when I say that, please.” Your voice cracks as you rest your forehead on the back of her head. Your tears falling into her hair, you can feel her body moving from her own sobs. 

“I know you didn’t. I didn’t either but we both did. How can we even move forward from this Y/n?” She turns in your hold, your forehead now resting on hers and you stare into each other's red eyes. 

“I love you. After all this time, I still love you. It’s always been you, it was you yesterday, it was you 2 months ago, a year ago. It is you today, it will be you tomorrow and for the rest of my life it will be you, I love you Natasha.” 

Her hand moves to your face, your own head leaning into her palm as she takes the weight of it. 

“But what if love isn’t enough y/n?”

part 2

[fetusgooseandjuice]

Trust Me

Pairing(s): Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: You haven’t been able to sleep in a couple weeks, and Natasha knows just the way to get you to close your eyes.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None? (If anyone finds any feel free to message me!)

Author’s Note: Heyy guys! I know I haven’t posted a fic in like 6 months, but I got writers block and it just never really went away. I’m not sure when I’ll post again, but I’ve had the idea for this fic for a while and I finally got the motivation to write it. It might not be that good but I hope you enjoy it at least a little! Think of it as a little Christmas gift :)

Author’s Note Pt. 2: Also, this is not proofread because I just wanted to get it posted so there might be some spelling and grammar errors!

You heavily sighed once again for probably the fifth time in the past five minutes. It’s been a few hours since you and Natasha had called it a night, and yet here you were at nearly three in the morning still lying wide awake.

Although it’s not as if you were surprised or expecting anything else. You’d been having trouble falling asleep since the first night you and Natasha arrived in Norway.

Despite not having gotten many hours of sleep lately, for some reason you still weren’t tired and still could not fall asleep.

When your girlfriend came to you a week and a half ago and told you she had no other choice but to leave the states in order to evade the government after the whole incident between Tony and Steve, you instantly decided you’d be going with her without a second thought and left no room for her to disagree.

After all she should’ve known you’d follow her anywhere, but you guess it’s taken a toll on you.

You wanted to sleep, and yet you weren’t sure what was keeping you up. Maybe you were worried about something happening to Natasha?

‘What if she gets caught? Or what if we both somehow get hurt?’ you thought.

But you knew she was more than capable of taking care of herself and keeping you safe at the same time.

Even with the amount of times you told yourself not to worry, your mind wouldn’t listen.

You eventually sighed and turned your head to look at the redhead behind you. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you and no matter how much she shifted throughout the night, she never let you go.

The mere thought of that would be enough to bring a smile to your face if you weren’t so frustrated with yourself.

Deciding you’d had enough of laying there awake, you carefully unraveled your girlfriend’s arms from around you and slid out of bed.

You almost shivered at the cool temperature of the trailer as your bare feet touched the floor and you made your way into the kitchen.

The random plastic bags on the counter rustled as you rummaged through them in search of something to snack on, finally coming across a bottle of water and a pack of chips you’d never heard of.

As you went to open the cap of the bottle, a pair of arms slipping around your waist startled you. The yelp you let out made the person behind you chuckle, and you relaxed recognizing the sound.

“Sorry, malysh (baby).” Natasha said and you turned to look at her to see the apologetic look she had on her face.

You gave her a slight smile before shaking your head, “It’s okay. But what’re you doing up right now, Nat? You should be asleep, you need to rest.”

She dipped her head down to press multiple kisses to the skin of your neck, “I could ask you the same question because so do you.”

You should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to leave the warmth of your shared bed without her noticing.

“I just couldn’t sleep.” you said, making her eyebrows furrow as you opened your water bottle and took a sip. “But I know you’re still tired so you should go back to bed, I’ll be there soon.”

“No, not without you.” Natasha was quick to disagree, “What’s going on, dorogaya (darlin)? You were yawning quite a bit before we went to bed. Why can’t you sleep?” she rested her chin on your shoulder, ready to listen to what you had to say.

You sighed realizing that you were going to have to have this conversation now. Your shoulders shrugged, “I don’t know.” was all you offered.

Natasha stayed quiet, giving you the floor for when you were ready to add on. A moment later, you did.

“I haven’t really gotten any decent sleep recently, so I’m not sure why I can’t fall asleep or why I’m not tired.”

Your girlfriend pecked your shoulder blade, acknowledging that she heard you.

“How long has this been going on for?” she asked.

For a second you went quiet, not exactly wanting to answer when you remembered that now that she knew, she wasn’t going to let it go until she made it better.

“Since we left the states.” you admitted.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Once again, you shrugged your shoulders, “I didn’t want to worry you.” you said. “You already have a lot on your plate with this whole situation and I didn’t want to add more to it.”

You heard Natasha sigh and now you appreciated that fact that you weren’t standing face to face at the moment.

“I guess I’m thinking too much.” you added. “At night I finally get the time to actually think about stuff, and I worry about you and if you’re going to be okay.”

Natasha was also glad you weren’t standing face to face right now because if you were, you would’ve seen the way her lips pulled into a smile.

“Well if you’re going to worry about me then I think I have every right to worry about you.” she chuckled and you fought back a smile at it.

“I’m sorry.” you said.

She didn’t say anything for a few moments until you heard her soft voice with that hint of rasp speak up.

“Look at me, krasivyy (beautiful).”

You craned your neck to see green eyes which were filled to the brim with love and tenderness staring at you, the singular warm light above the kitchen sink allowing her to see your sad ones.

The frustration that’d been building up in you beginning to melt away ever so slightly.

“I want you to talk to me about what you’re going through.” Natasha spoke. “I don’t care about what you think I might have going on, you’re always my first priority, okay?”

You nodded as she raised a hand to caress your cheek, brushing a hair behind your ear in the process.

“I love you too much to have you worrying that pretty little head of yours all alone when I’m always right here for you.” she pressed her lips to your temple to emphasize her point. “So promise me next time you’ll tell me if somethings wrong?”

“I promise, and I love you too, Nat.”

“Good,” Natasha smiled and leaned in to connect your lips in a loving kiss, pulling away shortly after and leaning her forehead against yours. “I’m going to be okay, so there’s no need to worry. We’re both gonna be okay, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. You knew Natasha would make sure of that.

“Alright, do you think you’re ready to head back to bed?”

You weren’t sure how to answer that. Even though you were relieved Natasha knew now and you talked about it, you still weren’t even close to being able to go to sleep.

“No,” you spoke quietly. “I’m still not really tired, and I honestly don’t know if I will be until this all blows over.”

Natasha went silent for a few moments, thinking. She turned you around to face her and moved your arms to wrap around her shoulders.

“Nat, what are you—”

“Shhh,” she interrupted your sentence, “Just trust me.”

So you did.

Her arms snaked back around your waist and pulled you into her. You weren’t exactly sure what she was doing until she began swaying with you from one side to the other.

You’d danced together before, but at Tony’s many parties. Not when you were trying to make yourself fall asleep.

“Nat, I don’t think—”

“You’re supposed to be trusting me. Do you not?”

“I do, but—”

“So shhh,” she said and you couldn’t help the little giggle you let out. “You said you were thinking too much, right?”

“Yeah.” you confirmed.

“So just relax and let me do all the thinking. I don’t want you to worry about anything except trusting me.”

“Okay.” you whispered, giving in and resting your cheek on her shoulder, allowing her to move you.

A few seconds later Natasha began humming. It wasn’t a song that you knew, but you recognized it as one of the many Russian lullabies she’s hummed and sometimes sang to you before.

The way she hummed them always made you feel relaxed and peace, and this time was no different. Because soon you started to lean into her more as you became more and more weary.

Your heavy eyelids fell shut and your head found security in her neck as you cuddled closer to it, happily letting her comforting scent soothe you.

After a couple of songs, Natasha finally looked at you to find you pretty much sound asleep.

She grinned to herself and pecked your head before lifting you into her arms, making her way back to your bedroom.

“Told you to trust me.”

~ end ~

[togrowoldinv]

Drill Lessons

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Natasha shows you how to use a power tool and your mutual crush comes to light

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (N and R receiving)

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

To you, Natasha Romanoff is the most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth.

You’ve been wanting to tell her for months that you like her. Ever since you joined the team you’ve had feelings for her. But you can’t get a read on her.

You have no idea if she has feelings for you too. Sometimes it feels like she’s flirting with you but then you see or hear her act the same way with one of the guys and you brush it off as nothing.

This weekend Clint invited everyone to his farm to enjoy a quick getaway and clear your heads. Missions hadn’t been easy lately, so you all needed the reprieve.

When you arrive, Natasha walks in the house first. She’s clearly very comfortable here.

“Welcome!” Laura says to everyone. “Come on in. Make yourselves at home!”

“Thank you for having us, Mrs. Barton,” you say when you greet her.

“Oh please, called me Laura,” she says. Then she addresses everyone, “We don’t have enough rooms so you’ll have to share. Nat, can y/n sleep with you?”

You try not to have a visceral reaction to the idea. You hold your breath as you await her reply.

“Sure,” Nat simply says. She turns to you, “I’ll show you the way.”

You follow her up the stairs where you run across a couple of kids.

“Auntie Nat?” A girl asks, in shock of seeing Nat.

“Hey malyshka,” Natasha replies. She brings the girl in for a hug. “Lila, this is y/n. Hopefully you won’t discover you like her more than you like me.”

You smile and wave to Lila. She returns the smile before running off downstairs.

Nat takes you down the hallway and to what appears to be her bedroom when she stays here. There are photos of the Barton family and Nat on the dresser. You admire how happy she looks here.

“I always sleep on the door side, but we’ll do whatever you feel comfortable with,” Nat says.

“Oh, either side works for me.”

Nat nods. You set your bag down on the bed and unpack a few things. Natasha moves around the room, gathering a few of her own things.

You both go back downstairs for the rest of the evening. Nothing too eventful happens. Everyone makes plans to spend time outside tomorrow.

Natasha is first to the bedroom. She slips into the bed casually. You try to do the same but fail miserably at not looking nervous.

“I don’t bite, you know,” Nat says teasingly.

“Right,” you respond too quickly. “I just- sorry.”

“Relax, y/n,” she says. You settle on your side of the bed. “Goodnight.”

“Night, Natasha.”

You both drift off into a peaceful sleep. You first, and then Natasha.

At some point during the night, you end up snuggling close to Natasha. She wakes up to the feeling of your arm draping over her. But she doesn’t mind it. Actually, she likes it.

When you wake up in the morning, you find yourself still nestled in her arms.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, trying to move off of her.

“Hey, it’s fine,” Nat says, only tightening her grip a bit before letting you loose. “So, you’re a cuddler, huh?”

You look away shyly and Nat just smirks. Now you definitely can’t believe you slept next to Natasha and accidentally snuggled with her all night. She doesn’t say anything else about it until you go downstairs for the day.

“Good morning!” Laura greets. She’s pulling fresh biscuits from the oven. “How did you sleep?”

“Good,” you answer briefly.

“She sure was cozy,” Nat interjects. It’s just Laura in the room with you two, but you still try to hold back a blush.

“Mhm, I’m sure,” Laura replies. Somehow you’re sure she knows the way you feel about Nat and how Nat feels about you.

Soon, the boys come tumbling into the kitchen. You all go outside to do your respective chosen activities. Steve promised to show you how to chop wood while Nat and Clint run off to the barn to build a new shelter for some of the animals.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Romanoff?” Steve asks after a few minutes of chopping the wood.

“Oh, is there- is there a me and Romanoff?”

“Is there not?” He asks genuinely. “I’m sorry. I just thought that you two- nevermind.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, shrugging.

It does leave you wondering if the other members of the team think something is happening there too. You try not to think about it too much as you continue to work outside. The fresh air does wonders for you.

Steve asks you to go grab the axe sharpening block from the barn, so you walk to the structure. When you get there, you catch sight of something that makes your jaw practically drop to the ground.

Natasha is wearing only a blank tank top and shorts are she uses a power drill to build a wooden structure. Sweat drips down her neck and chest as she expertly uses the tool.

You swear she catches the sight of you out of the corner of her eye, but she continues on with her drilling. She lifts heavy pieces of wood with ease. You can’t stop staring.

Nat lifts her tank top up to wipe the sweat from her face. You see her ab happy stomach and the sports bra that’s keeping the rest of her skin covered.

“Enjoying the view?” Nat says aloud. You’ve definitely been caught now.

“Oh, I was just-“ you start, but there’s no use. You were doing exactly that. “My bad.”

“Don’t apologize,” Nat says. “Come on in, what did you need?”

“We needed the axe sharpener block thing?”

“Is that a question?”

“Well, I don’t know what it is so yes?”

Nat chuckles. She turns to look at the shelf behind her for the tool you need. Her backside somehow looks just as good as her front.

“Here you go,” Nat says. She hands you the block. You are standing close to her now. “The real fun is happening in there though. I can show you how to use this.”

She gestures to the drill in her left hand, pressing her finger on the trigger to make it whir. You shouldn’t be so intrigued by it. Or by her for that matter. But you are.

“Maybe tomorrow you can show me?” You ask her.

“How about tonight?” Nat asks. Her voice drops an octave. You pray she means what you think she means.

You swallow shyly and Nat shoots you a smile. Slowly, you leave her there and go back to Steve. He doesn’t mention how long it took you to get the tool, thank goodness.

Later that day, you all grill out burgers and hotdogs. Clint tries to show off his grilling skills, but the team just gives him a hard time saying that it’s not all that hard anyways.

By the time evening comes, everyone’s sitting around a campfire. Natasha sits across from you. She glances at her phone and then to you as a way of alerting you to look at your phone.

The text reads: Meet me in the barn. 10 minutes.

You nod in her direction to acknowledge you got the message. The minutes pass by and you both leave to go to the barn.

When you get inside, Nat is already over by the wood she was working with earlier.

“Come on, I’ll show you,” Nat says.

“Okay,” you agree. You stand next to her.

“First things first, always know your surroundings,” Nat says.

She abruptly places her hands on your hips. She easily moves you to the right and left to observe your surroundings. Your heart stops when she reaches around you and her face is mere inches from yours.

She steps back and has a pair of clear glasses in her hand.

“And wear safety glasses,” she says. She places them on your face. You’re sure you look like an absolute fool. “Cute.”

“You didn’t wear these yesterday,” comes your reply.

“That’s because I’m an expert,” Nat says. She surprises you by pinching your cheeks. “You’ll get there, sweetheart.”

Natasha grabs the drill and ushers you to move closer to the wood with her. She takes you through step by step on how to use the power tool.

“Now, you can try,” Nat says.

“Okay,” you reply. You feel a little nervous about trying it. Nat assures you that you can’t mess it up.

You try to focus even with Nat being so close to you. For the first time using a drill, you don’t do terribly.

“Nice job, y/n,” Nat says. “But you’ll want to apply more pressure. Let me help you, sweetheart.”

Natasha places her hand on yours and pushes down on the drill. You pull the trigger and drill the screw into the wood. Her hot breath is on your neck.

You smile at your success and turn just enough to look at Nat. She’s just inches from you.

“Should we take this inside?” Nat asks. Her eyes glance to your lips and back up to your eyes. She brings her other hand to your cheek and brushes the back of it against it.

“Are you- um- yes?”

“Yes? Or yes.”

“The second one,” you say. Natasha smirks at you.

You leave the drill and safety glasses behind. Natasha holds your hand as she walks you to the house. You slip upstairs easily and she closes her bedroom door behind her.

“I’ve had my eye on you for a while,” Natasha says.

“Really?” You ask innocently.

“Really, detka. Come here,” she says, bringing you to the bed with her.

You sit next to her and she kisses you softly. It’s like floating on a cloud. You didn’t think she would be this gentle. But you’re loving it.

“May I?” Nat asks, gesturing to your shirt. You nod. She lifts the material over your head. “Beautiful.”

You feel sure you’re blushing at her words and the way her eyes rake over your body.

“Can I- um?” You pull at her tank top hem.

“Yes, baby,” Natasha says. “You can do anything to me.”

You lift the thin material over her head. Your heart stops at her beauty. You immediately lean forward and take her nipple into your mouth. It surprises Natasha how intentional you are being.

“Fuck, baby.”

“Is this okay?” You ask, pulling away a bit. Nat pulls your head back to her breasts. You’ll take that as a yes.

Natasha fumbles with your pants. She gets them unbuttoned but grumbles in frustration when she can’t get them off. You chuckle against her.

“Okay, hold on,” Nat says. She stands up and pulls her own pants down before grabbing you by the hips and pulling you up too.

Natasha takes your pants off with ease this time and slips them down your legs along with your underwear. She grins and drops to her knees. It doesn’t take her long to get to work licking and sucking at your pussy.

“Oh my god,” you moan out.

“You taste so good, baby. All for me,” Nat says.

“Fuck.”

You feel close to coming embarrassingly quickly but Natasha is proud of her work.

“Come for me, y/n,” she says. Her voice drips with sex.

“Fuck, Natasha!”

You come hard against her tongue. She licks you clean and stands back up. She kisses you deeply. It’s the most on fire you have ever felt.

“I want to taste you,” you tell Nat.

“Your wish is my command,” Nat says. She lays on the bed and you crawl over her body.

“So beautiful,” you say as you kiss from between her breasts down to her hips.

“You’re not so shy now are you?” Nat asks. You answer by diving into her wet pussy.

Her folds are slick and she’s ready for you. You lick and suck her, cherishing every noise she makes.

“Fuck, baby,” Nat says. “I’m going to come.”

“Come for me, Natasha.”

She does just that. You relish in the sounds she makes. You move back up her body and lay next to her.

“So, all of those times I thought you were flirting with me you actually were?” You break the silence.

Nat chuckles. “Yes, y/n. I’ve been hinting at it for months. I’m glad we finally got on the same page.”

She looks at you through her long eyelashes. You rest your head on her shoulder.

“I’ve always liked you, Natasha,” you say. “Do you think the team noticed we left?”

“Nah,” Nat says. “Even if they did, I don’t care. I have you.”

“You sure do.”

You snuggle further into Natasha. She holds you close as you lay together and talk for hours.

[ythankucaptainmccoy]

The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch.1

I keep seeing all the City Girl Reader x Jake stories, but no cowgirl reader x Jake. So I decided to take the liberty of writing one myself. Hope y'all enjoy it!

This was the first time you were going to see Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw. You had both crossed paths in college becoming close friends, and when he heard that you were trying to get away from a stalker ex boyfriend he had suggested you come stay with him. He had just gotten back from a big mission, but couldn’t tell you the specifics other than he had a near death experience. The skyline was beautiful as you drove towards Bradley’s apartment.

When you pulled up the apartment was close to the beach. You walked up to the second floor finding his apartment number and knocked on the door. It only took a few minutes when the door swung open to reveal Bradley in shorts a white tank and ugly Hawaiian shirt. “You still wear those Hawaiian shirts”, you laughed. “Of course, and you're still wearing jeans, cowboy boots and that ratty old ball cap. You’re in California now might as well go for some shorts”, he laughed back.

“No way”, you said. Bradley swooped you up squeezing the life out of you. “It’s so good to see you,” he stated. “Same here Rooster same here”, you smiled. He set you back down and offered to help you bring your stuff in. “You still drive this old truck”, he said. “Yeah I can’t let this baby go. Great gas mileage and as Joe Diffie says an 8 foot bed that never has to be made. Not to mention the bench seat”, you giggle as Bradley’s face goes red.

“I swear your mind is always in the gutter”, Bradley jested. “Well I grew up on a farm with brothers what did you expect”, you huffed dramatically. Bradley helped you get your measly duffle bag into the apartment. “Holy shit Roo this is an apartment? More like a small house”, you say more to yourself than Bradley. “Well I’m a tall guy I gotta have room”, he joked. He showed you to the guest room, and left you alone to unpack.

It took you all of ten minutes to unpack your things, and when you walked out to the main living area Bradley was hanging up his cellphone. “Hey want to go down to the Hard Deck with me?”, he asked. “If it’s a bar ya’ know I’m in” you respond eagerly. “You want to change?”, he questioned. “No I’m in comfortable clothes”, you replied. Once the apartment was all locked up you went straight for the Bronco. It was the same as you remembered it back in college no changes had been made.

The drive to the bar was filled with remembering old stories. When he pulled into a parking spot at the bar he got that serious look on his face. “Listen, some of the guys I fly with will be here, but there is one in particular you should stay away from”, he all but growls. “His callsign is Hangman and he is the type you don’t want to get mixed up with”, he tells you. “Noted”, you fake salute as you both make your way into the bar. 

It was lively for a Thursday afternoon as you followed Rooster to a pool table where two guys and a woman were playing. “Rooster, good to see you man and you brought a date”, one of the guys said. “Oh no we aren’t dating. This is the friend I told you about (Y/N)”, Bradley stated. “You’re right there is no way you could have snagged her, she's too hot for you”, the woman laughed. “Phoenix but you can call me Nat”, she said, extending her hand.  

You shook her hand as she introduced Payback and Fanboy. You sat back as they continued their game. Bradley had sneaked off to get another round of beers. When he came back he handed everyone their beers as the next round of pool started. You declined to play as Bradley joined this game. Half way through you were out of beer. “I’m going to the bar if anybody needs anything”, you announced. Everyone saying they were alright for now you headed towards the bar. 

Low and behold there was Pete. He had come to some of the college baseball games when Bradley played and Bradley had introduced you. You said hello as a woman stepped up to ask what you would like. “What bourbons do you have?”, you questioned. The woman listed them and you made your choice. “I’ll take the Jack n’ Coke and make it a double please”, you answered. 

As she made your drink Pete introduced you to her. She was the bar owner, Penny, who he was currently dating. You congratulated them and turned to find Bradley had taken to the piano and the pool table was free. You quickly made your way there and picked up a pool stick. You were down to the last couple of shots when you swore you felt someone was staring at you.

Jake had just walked in and was ordering a beer scoffing when he heard the familiar tune Rooster was playing on the piano. Then movement at the pool table caught his eye. A woman that definitely didn’t fit this type of bar scene was bent over the pool table lining up a shot. He couldn’t help but stare at her ass and the way those jeans hugged it. Once Penny handed him his beer he started making his way to the pool table.

“Uh oh looks like Hangman has his sights set”, Penny said. Maverick looked and started to laugh, “Oh don’t worry she can handle herself trust me”. Penny gave him a questioning look, but proceeded to watch what was about to happen. Jake had just made it to the pool table when you sank another shot. “I don’t mean to be rude darlin’, but it doesn’t look like you’re from around here”, he stated smiling. 

“As a matter o’ fact I’m not”, you replied. “Well with that accent I’d say the south”, he guessed. “And with that accent and cocky attitude I’m guessing Texan and an aviator”, you said, sinking another shot while looking him in the eye. “Well you’d be right. Mind if I join ya I promise I’ll go easy on ya. Names Jake by the way”, he cockily replied. “I guess, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before I go easy on ya. Mines (Y/N)”, you smugly replied.

Jake liked this one already, feisty, and willing to dish it back at him. Usually women would already be giggling and batting their lashes at him. “I would say gentleman first, but you don’t look much like a gentleman”, you scoffed. “Ouch. I would say ladies first, but you look more like a hellcat. Tell me how sharp are your claws”, he said wiggling his eyebrows at you. “You’ll never find out”, you replied. “How about a bet”, he said. “Alright I’m listening”, you responded. 

“I’ll give you a hundred dollars if you win”, he states. “What if you win?”, you inquired. “If I win you go out on a date with me, and maybe if I like you we can go back to my apartment”, he added. You seemed to think it over as the smile stayed on his smug face. Who did this guy think he was for one and for two you weren’t one for one night stands, but a hundred dollars was a hundred dollars. “Alright you're on, but when you lose don’t throw a tantrum like a child”, you told him.

He let you go first which was his first mistake. You shot and the balls scattered and the solid red seven went in. The next shot you lined up and the yellow one ball went in. You were lining up and about to shoot when the man you were playing against brushed up against you to whisper in your ear. “Ya know, ya look good bent over this pool table wonder what else you would look good bent over”, he declared.

You knew he was trying to throw you off, and you glanced over your shoulder at him giving a sultry look. Then you sank your shot standing to line up your next shot. “Honey just quit while you’re ahead”, you smirked. You missed the next shot and he took his turn and sank one of his shots. Jake was lining up his next shot when he looked up, only for you to be right across from him leaning on a table with your ass jutted out talking with none other than Bob. 

No you weren’t talking you were flirting how could you flirt with Bob and not him. He was tall, handsome and could show you a much better time he was sure of it. When his shot missed you quickly turned to look at him with a shit eating grin. “Looks like it’s my turn”, you declared. You sank a shot, but then you felt him behind you and he leaned over you almost caging you in. “You sure that's a good angle?”, he examined. “Oh I think I’ll do just fine”, you retorted then brought the pool stick back tapping him below the belt.

He groaned and backed up enough for you to sink your shot. You sank another shot, but missed the next one. As he bent over the pool table to line up his shot you took your chance. You walked up and whispered in his ear, “How many rounds do you think I could ride before fallin’ off”. Then for good measure you turned letting him watch your ass sway as you walked to get your drink. He was imagining all the ways he could have you whimpering and calling his name.

He lined up his shot and it was slightly off making him frown. You were starting to get to him and you both carried on like that until there were only a couple shots left. You were winning and to be honest Jake couldn’t even be upset. Just being around you and flirting, if one could call it that, was entertaining and he wondered even if he lost if you would give him a chance to take you out on a date. You asked for a break to go to the bar and get another drink.

“I’ll get it, what're you havin’?”, Jake asked, accent thick. “Thanks but I can get my own drinks. Bob make sure he doesn’t cheat”, you smiled. Bob nodded and Jake watched as you made your way to the bar putting a little more sway in your hips than normal. When you made it to the bar Penny waited on you again. “You know you should be careful with that one”, Penny told you, referring to Jake. “Why’s that?”, you implored. 

“He is a one night stand kind of guy”, she mentioned. “It’s alright Penny I’ve dealt with his kind before”, you smirked. Pete shook his head as he continued to drink his beer. You made it back just in time for Rooster and his friends to come back over to the pool table. Rooster grabbed your elbow asking, “What did you bet?”. “Calm down Roo he bet that if I win he gives me a hundred bucks and if he wins I go on a date with him”, you huffed. “Seriously, why the hell would you do that?”, Bradley grits out. “Because it seemed like fun and a hundred dollars is a hundred dollars”, you respond.

“Bradshaw as I live and breathe”, Jake states. “Hangman”, Bradley spits back. Now it made sense this was the guy that Bradley had warned you about. “Bradley it’s okay I only have two more shots to sink to win”, you told him. You grabbed your pool stick and lined up your shot and sank it without problem. The last one you had to sink and you looked up to see Bradley gripping his beer bottle so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

Then you looked at Jake seeing him smirking at Bradley before saying, “Ya know I was wondering if inviting her to my house for dinner would be a good first date. I make a damn good steak”. Bradley looked like he could punch him any moment so you took your shot making them both whip their heads to the table. The last ball smacked the side and right into the corner pocket. “Alright Hangman pay up”, you smirked.

His smile stayed on his face as he pulled a hundred out of his wallet handing it over to you. “I was expecting you to choke”, he said. “I bet you thought I’d be choking on you after the imaginary date too huh”, you laughed. Nat’s eyes widened and she tried to contain her laughter as Jake’s smile faltered a little. He couldn’t respond. You had actually left him speechless and the image burned itself into his brain as the others started to dog him and make jokes at his expense.

Jake watched as you high fived Rooster and finished your drink. He watched as you made your way back to the bar to order another drink. On your way back a guy cut you off from continuing to the rest of the group. You obviously turned him down as he watched this man call you a bitch. You said something back as you walked around the man and he started to get up to intervene. The nerve of this guy that had just asked you if you would like to go back to his place for some fun; then got angry and called you a bitch when you refused.

He grabbed your arm and spun you around making you spill your drink. The man was obviously drunk and you were now pissed that your drink was all over the floor. “Look I’m not going to go home with you asshole. Now let me go ya’ fucker”, you seethed. “I don’t think you know who I am bitch”, he stated, and that's when his hand came up and slapped you. It stung and knocked you back a couple steps as your brain registered what happened. You had long dropped your drink and balled your hand into a fist and let it fly.

It hit the man right in his nose as blood gushed from it. “You whore”, the man spit. He was about to charge at you when two people got in between the fight. The first you noticed was Bradley and the other was Jake. “You need to apologize and get the fuck out of this bar”, Jake said. “I’m not apologizing to that whore”, the man responded. The bell rang out as everyone started shouting overboard. You had no clue what was happening.

Rooster and Hangman nodded to each other and grabbed the guy by the arms as Payback came over to grab the man's legs. They carried him to the back deck and threw him out onto the sandy beach. “If you come back you mess with all of us”, Hangman shouted. All of the people in the bar shouted in agreement as Penny and Pete were checking you over. “Your cheek is already swelling”, Penny said as she went to get a bag of ice. 

While you were waiting on Penny, Pete helped you onto a bar stool looking at the red hand print on your cheek. “Are you alright, darlin?”, Jake asked as he came up to you and Pete. “Yeah nothing I ain’t used to”, you respond. Jake smiles but you can tell it doesn’t meet his eyes. “I’m fine I swear’, you state. When Penny gets back with a bag of ice wrapped in a small hand towel you thank her and ask for another drink. Jake watches as Penny makes your drink and he smiles genuinely then.

“Should have known you would like a strong drink”, Jake says. Bradley finally makes his way to you to make sure you are okay. “We should go after you're finished with that drink”, Bradley states. “Oh come on it was a slap not a punch”, you huffed. “Yeah and how long were you on the road for before you got here?”, Bradley questioned. “Look I slept in my truck till noon and hit the road then. I got a full eight hour sleep. I am not leaving yet”, you replied stubbornly. “You slept in your truck?! Do you know how dangerous that is?!”, Bradley shouted. 

“Hey ease up Rooster she obviously can handle herself”, Jake jumped in. “Stay out of this Hangman”, Roster seethed. “Look, I'm a big girl and can make my own decisions. I’m not your girl and I swear if you say we need to go I’ll just get a ride from Jake here. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind”, you stated. That seemed to have Rooster backing down as Jake grinned. “I wouldn’t mind taking you anywhere you needed to go darlin”, he replied. 

“No he will not”, Bradley huffed. “Then it looks like we’re staying a little longer”, you said. You grabbed your drink and made your way back to Roosters friends who had once again taken over the pool table. “She’s a pistol”, Jake said aloud. “You don’t know the half of it.  Do me a favor and stay away from her. She doesn’t need anymore heartbreak than she's already had”, Rooster grumbled. “Not making any promises”, Jake responded. 

You watched as Bradley and Jake spoke to each other then started making their way to the pool table. “Rooster, how about you take my spot!”, Fanboy yelled. Rooster agreed, taking Fanboy’s spot and now that he was distracted you made your way out to the deck of the bar. The smell of the ocean and the slight breeze helped you to relax. Jake came to stand beside you leaning over the rail. “So you and Rooster huh?”, he inquired. 

“No nothing like that. He sees me more as a sister”, you replied. “So what really brings you out here?”, he pried. “I thought Rooster would have told you all, but I was being stalked by an ex boyfriend and when I told Roo he told me to come out here”, you explained. “My sister dealt with an ex boyfriend like that, but in Texas we take care of our own. Why didn’t you go stay with your family?”, he asked. 

“I would if there were any alive to talk to. The only family I have is a brother and he doesn’t want to have anything to do with me”, you explained. “Damn well if you ever need the dagger squad we’ll be there for ya’ unless we are out on missions”, Jake responds. “Thanks”, you responded. “If I would have won would you have gone on a date with me?”, he questions. “See we were having a nice conversation and you ruined it”, you laughed. 

Jake frowned until you looked him in the eyes and said, “I would have if you had won”. His smile returned as you finished the rest of your drink, and dismissed yourself back to the pool table where Bradley had just finished up. Jake couldn’t help but watch as you walked out the door with Rooster thinking of how to get you to go out with him.

[buckyshoneybunny]

Beautiful

 Bucky Barnes + Curvy!Female!Reader 

Summary- Bucky proves to you that you are beautiful. 

W.C.- 2623 

Warnings- Fluff, tiny bit of angst(?), smut, 18+ Mdni! Oral (female), fingering, P in V sex, unprotected sex (don’t do that) 

A/N- First time writing smut, hope you like it. This got a little personal 😬 but to all my fellow curvy + plus size girls you are beautiful 😘. I’m thinking of writing a series, with either Alpha, roommate, neighbor, or biker Bucky, I can’t pick. Any suggestions or ideas, I will gladly listen. Also, thank you so much for all the love on my first story!! Please don’t post or steal my work, feedback is welcome. Hope you enjoy!  

Masterlist

You took another deep, shaky breath as you studied your reflection for the hundredth time in the last five minutes. Tonight was the big night; you and Bucky were going to be taking the next step in your relationship. After many dates and late-night talks, you were finally ready to take the next step. Bucky, the ever so perfect guy he is, was patient with you, assured you that he was perfectly fine waiting until you were ready. 

You and Bucky were making out on your couch, you straddling his lap, when you pulled away with a gasp. Bucky starts kissing down your neck, as his hands start to slide up your shirt you freeze.  

Having noticed this, he immediately stops and pull back to look at you. “You okay, peach?” You look away. 

He gently cups your face, his cold, metal hand soothing your burning cheeks. “Talk to me Babygirl, what’s wrong?”  

You bite your lip. “I don’t think I’m ready yet,” you whisper. “I know I should have said something sooner instead of waiting until we’re both worked up but I-” 

“Peach, breathe,” be cuts off your nervous ramble. He rearranges you both so that you’re not positioned over his bulge. “It’s okay, if you aren’t ready then we wait, okay?” He says softly. 

You glance down at his lap feeling guilty. “But what about-” 

“No, don’t worry about that. It’ll go away shortly. How about we cuddle and watch our show? I’m dying to see what happened to Angela,” he suggests. 

You nod after a moment and hug him. “Thank you, Bucky,” you mumble into his neck.  

“Anything for you, peach” 

It wasn’t because you were a virgin or wanted to do things the ‘proper’ way, although you never told Bucky why, he guessed it was because of how insecure you are of your weight. Okay, yes, you were a little curvy, yes multiple guys had laughed at you when you tried to get their attention or looked at you in disgust whenever you tried to wear something that showed a little skin. 

Yes, you were insecure about your weight, but that wasn’t the reason you wanted to wait. Bucky had made sure you knew he loved your curves, no matter how hard you tried to hide them. You often chose pants over shorts and never wore tank tops, but it wasn’t because of your weight- the team made sure you knew they loved you for you, you felt comfortable around them- no, it was because of your skin. 

See, you weren’t one of those girls who had smooth, shiny skin, and that’s why you never showed off anything more than your arms. You had cellulite, bumps everywhere, and pimples in places you wished you didn’t. Not one spot on your body was smooth or clear, it didn’t matter where you shaved or moisturized, every time you slide your hands up your arms or down your legs it was bumpy. You tried everything under the sun but nothing helped, only few things made it a little better, you couldn’t even use your favorite scented lotions that often because it only made them worse. The tan on your skin helped hide it, but it was still there. 

A ding from your phone pulled you back to the present, you picked it up and noticed Bucky had texted you. 

💖My love- Hey, peach! I’m really excited for tonight, and since tonight is a very special night, I got you a little something (with the help of Nat of course), check your closet 😉.  

You walk into your closet to see a long, white, plastic bag hung up with your other dresses. When you unzip it, you can’t help but gasp.  The dress is a long, V-neck red satin dress with double slits. Phone in hand, you text him back. 

You-This is gorgeous Buck, but I don’t know if it’ll look right on me. 

💖My love-I know it’s way out of your comfort zone but believe me, you’ll be the sexiest woman to have ever existed, you already are but you’ll look even more gorgeous. You don’t have to wear it but I hope you do, see you soon, peach 😘. 

Trusting Bucky, you decide to wear it. You put on some plum scented lotion, damn your skin- at least it’ll be soft-, and put the dress on. It fits perfectly, your tan hides your skins secrets and the dress hugs your curves, for once you actually feel sexy. You take your hair out of the French braids and spray on some watermelon scented perfume. Right as you finish putting on your heels, there’s a knock at the door. You grab your clutch and look at yourself in the mirror one last time. Taking a deep breath you open the door. 

Bucky’s eyes widen as he takes you in, you do the same when you see him. He’s in a perfectly fitting suit that shows off his defined muscles, it’s cotton and black, he has a white button up under the jacket with a red tie.  

“How do I look?’ You ask nervously. When he doesn’t answer you start to overthink.  

“God damn,” he mumbles under his breath. His eyes sweep over your body again. “I don’t think I have ever wanted your thighs wrapped around my head more than I do now,” he says distractedly, staring at your thighs.  

“Bucky!” You gasp and playfully smack his chest. He grins, grabbing your wrists, he puts them around his neck as his hands settle on your waist.  

He chuckles. “Seriously though, you look absolutely gorgeous.” He kisses you then slides over to kiss your neck; he breathes in deeply and groans. “Mmm. You smell delicious,” he mumbles against your skin. He slides his hands up your sides.  

“Cut it out, we’re gonna be late,” you giggle and move before his hands can reach the bare skin of your arms, avoiding his touch. He notices.  

“Alright, alright, come on, peach.” He grins and leads you to the elevator, his hand in yours.  

As the elevator closes, he asks, “When the hell did you get that tan?” 

“When everyone was gone on that one mission.” 

“Damn, I missed this gorgeous body half naked in the sun?” He playfully pouts.   

You snort and shake your head. 

Once you both get to the restaurant, the hostess takes you to your table. It’s the fancy Italian restaurant that takes months in advance to get a reservation.  

As the waiter leaves with your orders you ask, “How did you get a table here? It takes months in advance.” 

“Tony called in a few favors,” he grins. “I want tonight to be special,” he adds softly. His hand covers yours on the table. You smile at him and interlace your fingers together. 

“How come you won’t let me touch you?” He blurts out.  

You give him a confused look, “What do you mean? You’re touching me right now.” 

“No, I mean, you won’t let me touch your bare skin. At first, I thought maybe you had scars or something, that maybe that’s way you never wear shorts. But seeing you tonight, in that dress, I can’t fathom why you would hide your body.” He pauses for a moment. “Is it because of me?” He whispers, you can see the vulnerability in his eyes. 

You quickly cup his face, “God no Bucky” You take a deep breath. “It’s just...” you trail off, unsure of how to put it. 

“What, peach? Please, tell me. I understand you wanting to wait for this long, I respect that, but every time we kissed or got a little handsy I could see that you wanted to keep going but you always stopped.” 

You sigh. “Part of it is my weight-” he goes to cut you off but you keep going. “But you’ve helped me feel more confident in my weight, but the insecurities are still there. The main reason is my skin...” 

“Your skin?” He deadpans. 

“The bumps everywhere, cellulite, and pimples everywhere Bucky. I don’t have that smooth clear skin like Wanda or Nat. That’s what I’m afraid of, that you’ll see the marks, feel the bumps on my legs, stomach, hell even my ass. That you’ll see the pimples in places that shouldn’t have any and you’ll break up with me or be disgusted,” you rant.  

“Okay, Y/N, deep breath. First of all, if I ever look at you in disgust, HYDRA must’ve taken over me. I love you and a few bumps and pimples won’t change that.” He holds your hands in his.  

“It’s more than just a few Bucky.” He narrows his eyes as he studies you. The waiter brings your food, Bucky starts to shovel the food into his mouth.  

“Eat,” he says around a mouthful of garlic bread. “I need to get you home to prove to you how beautiful you are.” 

Once you both are done, he pays and all but drags you out to the car. He pushes you up against the side of the car, smashing his lips to yours.  

“If you’ll let me, I want to show you how much I love you and this body.” He says breathlessly. “Please,” he adds, almost whining. You nod.  

On the drive back, you get a burst of confidence. You glance over at Bucky, he’s tense, barely maintaining the speed limit, desperate to get home. You look down and see a very large, very noticeable bulge. Fuck he looks huge. 

You reach over and place your hand on his thigh, slowly sliding it up. Bucky glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Peach,” he warns. You cup his bulge and he inhales sharply. You trace your finger over him, teasing. You cup him again and squeeze, right as he stops for a red light. He groans and bucks his hip up into your hand, his reaction sending a shoot of arousal through you. 

Once you finally reach the tower, he drags you to his room, once inside he shoves you against the door and devours you mouth with his. He spins you around and grabs the zipper of the dress.  

“You sure you’re ready, peach?” You nod. “I need words baby,” he whispers against your neck. 

“Yes Bucky, I’m ready.” He, painfully slow, pulls the zipper down. The dress pools at your feet, he turns you back around. 

His knees almost buckle. You’re standing there in nothing but a baby pink lingerie set and black heels. “Fuck peach,” he moans. He drops to his knees and kisses your stomach. “These curves” he grips your hips, “This ass,” his hands move to squeeze your ass, bordering painful. “This body, baby, I’m never letting you keep it from me again.” His kisses his way down your stomach. “You many have bumps and pimples, and cellulite, but that just add to the uniqueness of the gorgeous body. Y/N, baby, you are perfect, so fucking sexy, just looking at you I could cum in my pants.” He throws your right leg over his shoulder.  

“Bucky,” you whimper. He noses your panty covered clit, inhaling deeply. 

“Fuck, you smell so good.” He pauses, “Do you have plum scented lotion on?” 

“Yeah...” You answer hesitantly. 

He shoves his nose in the crease of your thigh. “Fuck, I didn’t know they made that,” he groans.  

“You like it?” You giggle. 

“I fucking love it, peach.” He licks your cloth covered core, making you moan. He pulls your panties to the side and growls. “This has got to be the prettiest pussy I have ever seen Babygirl.” That’s the only warning you get before he’s eating you out like a starved man.  

He swirls his tongue around your clit before sucking it into his mouth. He brings his metal hand up and slowly inserts his pointer finger. You buck against his face, you lace your fingers through his hair, him being the only thing keeping you upright.  

“Fuck you taste so good, so fucking tight,” he moans into your pussy, sending vibrations through you. He slowly adds a second finger, then a third. Curling them to hit that spongy spot, making you see stars.  

“I-I’m close... Please don’t stop Bucky,” you moan.  

“Wouldn’t dream on it Babygirl, cum for me.” 

You go limp against the door as you cum, gripping his hair tighter, almost to the point of painful, but it only makes him harder. He continues to fuck you with his fingers, helping you ride out your high. Once you come down, he pulls away and stands up. You yank him down by his tie, crashing your lips to his, moaning at your taste on his tongue.  

“How ya feeling, peach?” He whispers against your lips. 

“I want you inside me, now,” you answer. 

He chuckles, “Yes ma’am.” He quickly sheds the rest of your clothes and shoves you on his bed, not before smothering your chest in open mouthed kisses though.  You lean up on your elbows to watch him undress, gasping as his cock springs free from his boxers.  

“Don’t worry, it’ll fit,” he winks and joins you on the bed. Siting on his haunches, he wraps your legs around his waist and shoves his knees under your thighs. He rubs the head of his cock through your folds, teasing you.  

“Bucky please,” you whine. 

“I like the sound of you begging,” his voice deep and rough. In one smooth motion he enters you. You gasp and he moans once he’s fully sheathed inside you. 

“Fuck you’re so big,” you moan and dig your nails into his back. He stays still, letting you adjust. When you buck your hips up to let him know you're ready, he just groans and buries his face in your neck. 

“Fuck, give me a minute,” he mumbles, already pussy drunk.  

You giggle and card your fingers through his hair. After a second, he pulls almost all the way out and sets a punishing pace.  

“God damn you’re tight, almost made me cum like a horny teenager.” You moan at his words. With atilt of his hips, the tip of his cock pounds into your g-spot.  

“James!” You moan, nails dragging down his back.  

He shivers. “Fuck, say my name again.” 

“James harder! I’m gonna cum, James, please let me cum.” You whine in his ear.  

He groans and fucks you harder. “Cum for me baby, cum all over my cock like a good girl.” 

Your thighs squeeze his hips. Back arching, head thrown back, nails digging into his sides you cum, squirting all over his cock.  

“Holy shit,” he moans as he watches you. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, just barely hold his off. His thrusts grow sloppy. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby, where do you want it?”  

You lock your ankles on his lower back, your hands grip his ass, nails digging into the plump flesh. “Inside, please, James, I want your cum in me” 

“Fuck! Y/N!” He roars as he cums. He buries himself as deep as he can as ropes of cum shoot into you. He collapses onto of you, panting. You rub his back and scratch at his scalp as you both catch your breath; he places open mouthed kisses on your neck. He sucks a hickey on your neck, you shiver.  

“Believe me now when is say you’re gorgeous?” He picks his head up to look at you. 

You lean your forehead against his, “I don’t know, I think I might need some more convincing.” He grins, already getting hard again thanks to the serum.  

“My pleasure.” It was going to be a looong night. 

Needless to say, you were much more confident in your looks after that. 

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hey I was reading your X-men posts and I just had an idea and if it is possible for you can you write about reader was with Bucky or Steve or both (your choice) but they break her heart and she finds love again with Charles Xavier (James McAvoy) or Eric Lehnsherr (Michael Fassbender) or both (again your choice) and protect her from Steve/Bucky 😅❤️

hi honey! thank you for requesting this, I hope you like what I've written!

summary - love can be deceiving especially with the wrong person, but it's so much more when it's with the right person.

warning - cheating? angst, word whore is used, insecurities, small violence.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips (deactivated)

Bucky Barnes had been your light since the day The Avengers found you. He had been the one to comfort you when the nightmares would become too much, the one to love you like you’ve never been loved before. So why did it feel like your heart was being ripped out of your chest as you heard him talking to his friends. Why did it feel like the opposite of love?

“I’m so sick of Y/n being attached to me all of the time! And does she really think I love her?! Has she seen herself lately? She’s no Nat or Sharon. She’s just her, plain.” Bucky groans, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his beer. “Oh, did I tell you that I hooked up with a smoking hot babe last night?” He smirks. “Man could she bend.”

You suck in a breath quietly, not wanting to be heard and also struggling to hold back your pain. You walk back to your room, quickly packing your things and disappearing into the night. You knew it was too good to be true, not once in your life had anything ever turned out good. You always seemed to end up with the short end of the stick. You had nowhere to go, a bag in your hand and the moon shining down on you. You felt stupid, you should’ve stayed, found a place before you left. 

You decided to walk a few blocks, taking a random train, wanting to distance yourself. You had turned your phone off and threw it away at the first sight of Bucky calling you. You couldn’t turn back now, too busy with your head down, looking at the ground you manage to bump into someone. Your bag falling from your hands, hitting the floor with a thump. “I–I’m so sorry!” You go to kneel but stop when you notice your bag floating in the air. 

“It’s not safe for a pretty girl to be out this late. You don’t know who you might end up bumping into.” You blink, your eyes connecting with blue. The random man hums, “Ah, Y/n L/n. What are you doing so far from home? Don’t you know you have many people looking for you? Some good, some bad.” 

You shrug, “I don’t care…” You wipe your cheeks, ensuring there are no tear marks on them. “Who are you?” 

The unknown man stares, face like stone. Reminding you so much of the man you just left. “And here I thought I made a reputation for myself.” He studies you, “Erik Lehnsherr, but I also go by Magneto.” 

You nod. “It’s nice to meet you. If you excuse me, I have somewhere to be…” You lie, you recognise the name, you knew of the people he used to hang around before he fully embraced his dark side. You couldn’t have him handing you back out of spite, you didn’t want to go back. Not after what you heard. 

Erik’s hand flies out, gripping your arm softly. “No, you don’t. But I’m not a total monster, I won’t let a pretty girl like you stay out on the streets all night. God knows what will happen.” He begins to pull you along, ignoring your protests. “Be quiet, don’t make me regret being kind.” 

Your mouth falls open as you stand in front of the X-Mansion, beginning to feel uncomfortable as you realise these people may judge you. You weren’t a mutant, you were a freak, an unloved freak. “I–I can’t stay here!”

“Why not?” Erik looks down at you, “Oh, are you one of those vampires that need inviting in?”

You look up at him with your head tilted, “Huh? What… No. I just, these people are… and I’m me… Plain…” You begin to play with your fingers.

“Hmm, whoever said that should get their eyes checked. Now come. I’m sure Charles is awaiting our arrival.” Instead of dragging you by the arm, he moves his hand and opens it, waiting for you to slip yours into his. 

Months had passed since you had bumped into Erik, Charles had accepted you into their family, proving to you that you were one of them. Erik had come and gone many of times since he had taken you here, and each time you began to dread when he had to leave again. Your relationship with him was okay, it had begun quite stiff and slowly blossomed into a friendship, the only issue is you fell for him. But you knew you weren’t good enough for a man like Erik, Bucky had proved that. 

Today you were excited though, Erik was coming back, and you had decided to wear your favourite dress, remembering the first time you had worn it, and he couldn’t stop staring at it. Deep down your insecurities were saying it’s because he hated the dress and was wondering how someone like you could ruin a pretty piece of clothing by wearing it, but another part of you had hoped it was the opposite, that he liked your dress.

You walk out of your room, smoothing out your dress as you begin to head to the door where you hear voices. A smile forms on your face, ready to see Erik again. You enter the room and your smile falls, he had finally found you. You didn’t want to face him, he was the reason you didn’t think you were good enough anymore. 

‘Y/n, I don’t want you to think I invited him, I tried to stop him, but I cannot do much unless I control someone’s mind and you understand why I didn’t, right?’ Charles speaks into your mind, your eyes connect with his and you nod.

“This is where you’ve been this whole time?! Do you know how worried we were?! How could you be so stupid!!” Bucky growls, moving closer. It’s as though you up and leaving him had struck a nerve, but you don’t know why, he didn’t love you like you did him. 

You hated yourself in this moment, you wanted to stand up for yourself and show him that his words didn’t hurt, but everything was coming back, and you couldn’t move or speak. “I–I…” 

“Take one step closer to her and I’ll shove that arm of yours down your throat.” A voice speaks from behind you, Erik steps out from the shadows, moving closer to you. His hand rests on your lower back, calming you down when you didn’t even know you needed to be calm. 

Bucky spins his arm, glaring. “Who are you?” His eyes fall to where Erik’s hand rests before he looks at you. “Is this why you ran off? Because you’re a whore?” Bucky steps forward, ignoring Erik’s warning causing Bucky to let out a cry of pain as his arm begins to get crushed.

“I warned you to not step closer to her. Yet you ignored that and insulted her.” He moves in front of you, pulling you to stay behind him. “Charles may have not wanted to control your mind because he’s a good guy, but I’m not.” With a flick of his hand, Bucky rises and gets thrown through the door. Erik stalks forward and glares at him. “If you ever come near Y/n again, I will kill you.” He makes sure to watch Bucky leave before he turns and walks toward you before you can even open your mouth to thank him, he grips the sides of your face and pulls you in, bringing you into a passionate kiss. 

Was this what love felt like?

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[rhiannonsknife]

── ❆ DAY 24: christmas with the yellowjackets

— summary: christmas eve with the yellowjackets hcs (shauna. jackie. lottie. nat. van. tai. laura lee.)

— warnings: fluff. established relationships. gn!reader.

shauna shipman

❆ christmas eve at shauna’s is endearingly chaotic. after a slightly overwhelming family dinner, shauna catches your eye from across the table, her expression speaking volumes. as soon as the dishes are cleared, she tugs you by the hand up to her attic bedroom. It’s small but cozy, filled old soccer trophies, faded posters, a stack of dusty books, and most importantly, it’s just the two of you. she pulls out a half-empty bag of holiday chocolates she stashed away earlier and plops down on the bed, grinning as she offers you one. “this is way better than listening to my mom ask about my ‘five-year plan,’ right?” she teases, leaning her head on your shoulder as you unwrap the candy and settle in for a quiet moment together.

❆ shauna insists on a tradition she started as a kid: exchanging one gift on christmas eve. she pulls out a small box she’s been hiding under the tree all evening and hands it to you with a sheepish smile. “i couldn’t wait for this one,” she admits softly, watching you unwrap it. inside is something thoughtful: simple, but so uniquely her. when it’s your turn, you pass her a neatly wrapped book you’d been meaning to share with her for months: it’s your favorite, but you’ve left small notes and annotations between the lines.

❆ shauna definitely isn’t one for large, over the top gestures. instead, she finds subtle ways to show she’s thinking about you. while everyone’s distracted during dessert, she quietly slides the last piece of hers onto your plate with a small, knowing smile. later, as the family gathers around the living room to watch a movie, she settles beside you, her knee pressed against yours. the way her fingers softly brush against yours under the blanket you’re sharing says everything she can’t in a room full of people.

jackie taylor

❆ jackie insists on everything being perfect for christmas eve, and that includes you. she spends way too long fussing over her outfit, then quickly turns her attention to yours. whether it’s a cozy sweater or something more festive, jackie 100% makes it her mission to ensure you both look like you’ve stepped out of one of these cheesy holiday romcoms she makes you watch. only then, the two of you join her family for dinner. of course, her mom comments on how good you both look, which jackie takes as confirmation that all her efforts were worth it.

❆ jackie adores introducing you to her extended family, playing the role of the best friend perfectly. they might not know the true nature of your relationship, but she makes a point in showing you off nonetheless. she clings to your arm, proudly showing you off and basking in the compliments about how amazing the two of you look together. when her little cousins start to get rowdy, she ropes you into playing board games with them, determined to prove she can win more than just soccer matches.

❆ after dinner, jackie insists on dragging you outside for a walk in the snow where it’ll just be the two of you. complete with scarves, gloves, and her earmuffs. it’s her favorite part of the day; walking hand-in-hand as the neighborhood lights twinkle around you. in her block, the neighbors went all out with their decorations and it’s fun to wander around and look at the different lights and houses. at some point, she’ll stop, her cheeks rosy from the cold, and kiss you softly, whispering, “merry christmas”

lottie matthews

❆ on the 24th , lottie wakes up early, watching you sleep from her desk while she works on the final touches of your present. by the time you wake up too, she’s finishing up her letter for you. you blink your eyes open to the bright, white light coming in through the windows and find her with her legs drawn to her chest and her eyes on you. she gives you something meaningful, albeit a little too expensive for your personal liking, like a charm bracelet with a symbol that reminds her of your connection, and watches nervously as you open it, her face only lighting up when you smile and approve.

❆ with you, christmas feels a lot less lonely and lottie makes use of that in every possible way, relishing in your company. you can spend the day however the two of you like, so she takes you out before anyone else is up, only returning after a thorough walk through the snowy streets of wiskayok. she spends the whole time clinging to your hand and whether there’s something for you to talk about, or just comfortable silence, you both enjoy each other’s company. “i think christmas is way better with you here” she admits before kissing you gently.

❆ she has a sweet but quirky side that shines during the holiday season: insisting you join her in lighting candles for “good vibes” before dinner, picking out the prettiest ornaments for the tree, and even convincing you to meditate with her by the fireplace after the chaos of the day. by the end of the night, you’re both cuddled under a blanket, sipping tea while she curls up against you.

nat scatorccio

❆ christmas eve with nat starts quieter than most. she’s not even used to it being a big deal at all. however, since she started dating you, she’s been showing up on your doorstep every christmas to spend the holiday with you instead: knocking on your door with a lopsided grin and a couple of small, awkwardly wrapped presents in hand. again: she’s not used to big celebrations, but the sight of your warm, bustling home instantly softens her.

❆ nat, being nat, spends a lot of her time deflecting with sarcasm, trying to pretend like none of this is getting to her at all, complaining about your aunt’s fruitcake or your dad’s bad jokes. but you can tell she’s secretly enjoying herself by the smiles she flashes you from across the room whenever the mask accidentally slips. when your family hands her a stocking they filled for her last minute, her eyes widen in surprise, and she mutters something about how “totally cheesy” it is while holding onto it like it’s the best thing she’s ever received.

❆ after dinner, nat drags you (and your siblings/cousins) outside for some “fresh air” and immediately starts a snowball fight, pelting you with snow while laughing so hard she nearly falls over. when you finally tackle her to the ground, pinning her in the snow, she grabs your face with cold hands and kisses you impulsively. “merry christmas,” she says, grinning up at you. “now help me up before i freeze to death here!”

van palmer

❆ van is not a morning person, not even on the day of christmas eve, so unless you wake her, she’s staying in bed as long as possible - even if you’ve got plans for the evening. when you do finally poke and kiss her awake, she insists on dragging the blankets with her to the couch, still half-asleep but grinning as she wishes you a lazy, “merry christmas.” she’s the kind of girlfriend who wraps herself around you on the sofa and refuses to let you go until she’s fully awake and ready for coffee.

❆ christmas movies are non-negotiable with van. she pulls out a stack of VHS tapes she’s been keeping since october and insists you watch them all with her. she recites all the best lines, laughs way too loud at the cheesy parts, and even makes up drinking game rules if you’re up for it.

❆ van 100% thrives on the energy of the holidays, so she makes sure to keep things fun whenever she can: whether it’s putting way too much whipped cream on your hot chocolate, building an absurdly decorated gingerbread house with you, or starting a wrapping-paper-ball fight in the living room, she’s all about making you laugh and creating ridiculous memories together. at the end of the day, she pulls you close under the glow of the christmas lights and whispers, “this might be the best christmas yet”

taissa turner

❆ tai, unlike van, is also up rather early, making sure everything is perfect for the day. she’s not overly sentimental, but lets her thoughtfulness show in little ways, like sneaking downstairs to make you coffee and setting up your favorite breakfast before you’re even awake. she’ll also “randomly” give you a gift so personal and meaningful that you feel overwhelmed in the best way possible.

❆ tai knows how to navigate the chaos of christmas eve much better than you do yourself. if you spend it at your place, she happily helps your family keep everything on track, whether it’s herding your younger siblings or stepping in to help with cooking. but she always makes time to steal quiet moments with you, slipping away to sit outside or wander through the snow, her gloved hand intertwined with yours whenever possible.

❆ if things ever get overwhelming (whether it’s a noisy dinner table or your little cousins running wild) tai is always the first to notice and pulls you aside, offering calm reassurance, a subtle shoulder rub, a tight hug, or whatever else you might need. by the end of the night, you’re curled up on the couch together, her arm draped around you as she murmurs softly, “i love spending today with you”

laura lee

❆ laura lee wakes up extra early on the 24th. it is definitely her favorite holiday and she’s even more excited to share it with you. in the morning,she spends some time reflecting on ‘the meaning of the season’ and invites you to join her -not because she expects you to share her faith exactly, but because it’s important to her to include you in something so personal. you sit together by the tree, sipping cocoa as she quietly talks about gratitude and the hope she finds in the season.

❆ laura lee has a gentle way of making literally everything feel peaceful and meaningful. whether it’s the way she smiles at you during a family dinner or how she softly sings along to christmas songs while holding you close, she makes you feel like the most important part of her day. by the end of the night, you realize you’ve never felt more at home than you do with her.

❆ laura lee appreciates it when you join her for christmas church service, even if you don’t share her beliefs. she doesn’t take your presence for granted, holding your hand tightly in hers as you sit together in the glow of candles and the sound of hymns. afterward, she’s all soft smiles as she thanks you for being there with her. later that night, curled up together under a blanket, she reads to you from your favorite book while you rest your head on her shoulder.

— a/n: merry christmas to all those of you who celebrate today and/or tomorrow!! thank you for joining me on this writing challenge! i really hope you enjoyed reading these as much as loved writing them for you guys! you can find all 24 christmas fics here!! <3

[msmk11]

A Way to Relax

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

WC: 1k

CW: Literally just fluff and a few sexual references

Summary: When Natasha returns from a mission, you want to help her relax (get your head out of the gutter, it's not in that way)

Part 3 of mk’s mad dash

Your wife’s job is unpredictable- completely random operation hours, coming home late and waking up before the sun, and a constant smattering of mysterious bumps, bruises, and cuts scattered across her skin. Though its unpredictably is certainly not one of its perks, you both know how important Natasha’s job is, so you make the necessary sacrifices. You two also put in the extra effort to maintain the spark in your relationship despite her work.

While Nat can be gone for days at a time, other times she’s home for many weeks uninterrupted. Your wife absolutely takes advantage of this time to completely and utterly spoil you with gifts, nights out on the town, and lots of cuddling, kisses, and sex. In Natasha’s absence, you demonstrate your love in little ways like carrying the weight of the household chores or sending cute good morning and goodnight texts. But your favorite way to spoil Nat is with extra special treatment anytime she returns from missions. Undoubtedly, she is always tired and beat up when she returns home, a little worse for the wear than when you’d have last seen her. 

Tonight is one of those nights, Natasha finally coming home after being gone on a mission for two weeks. She’ll be home late enough that there’s no point in making her dinner, but not too late for the little treat you have planned for her. You’ve found a home on your big, gray couch in the living room, already dressed in one of Nat’s t-shirts and your pj shorts for bed. One of your favorite movies is playing in the background while you anxiously await your wife’s arrival. You’ve missed her desperately, and you can’t wait to hug her, hold her, and kiss her. 

The jingle of keys in your door goes unnoticed with the tv drowning it out, but you certainly don’t miss the squeak of the door and the heavy footfalls of your wife. 

“Ditya, I’m home,” your wife’s raspy voice calls out. 

You nearly squeal as you launch yourself off the couch and run down the hall to your front door. When Natasha sees you she drops her bag and spreads her arms. You jump into her embrace, wrapping your arms around her neck and your legs around her waist. She barely stumbles despite your momentum and grips your thighs tightly. 

“I’ve missed you so much baby,” you mumble into her neck. Then, you place a tender kiss there. 

She eases your face out of her neck, looking at you with so much tenderness, “there’s my milaya devushka.”

You blush rather prettily and place a tender kiss on your wife’s soft, sweet lips. You’re so happy to have her lips slotted against your own again and her flowery perfume invading your senses.

You hum contentedly and reach up to cup Natasha’s cheek, “Missed my beautiful wife,” you mumble against her skin.

She shivers, “don’t think I’ll ever get used to you calling me your wife.”

You pull away and smirk at her, “You better, cause you're stuck with me.”

The redhead rolls her eyes playfully, “shame.”

You finally hop down from her grasp and she whines a little at the loss of your touch, “While I’d love to hear about your mission, I need you to get comfy- shower, put on your pjs, whatever. I have a surprise for you.”

She cocks her eyebrow at you and smirks, “Oh really? Why didn’t you say something sooner, Ditya?”

You shrug your shoulders sheepishly, “too excited I guess.”

Natasha crinkles her nose at you, “you’re too cute.”

You huff, feigning annoyance, and put your hands on your hips, “Now off you go, I want to give you your surprise.”

She mockingly salutes you and then gives you a wink, trudging up the stairs with her luggage. 

*****

A little while later Natasha comes out of your shared bathroom clad in her black pj set, wet hair brushed back out of her face. You scramble up from your side of the bed where you were laying, scrolling on your phone. 

“Ready for your surprise, baby?”

She crawls onto the bed on her hands and knees, making her way to you. She places the softest kiss on the tip of your nose, “ready, Ditya.”

“Okay, lie down on your stomach facing the end of the bed!”

She gives you a slightly perplexed look but obliges. She rests her chin on her hands, and peeks back over her shoulder, “What’re you up to?”

“Just, turn your head back around,” you huff exasperatedly, “and spread your arms out too.”

Under your breath you mumble, “so nosy.”

“Heard that, love,” she says with a quiet laugh. 

You ignore Natasha and instead climb over her, straddling her waist with your knees on either side of her.

“Baby,” she rasps, “If this is what I knew you wanted to get up to, I would’ve showered a lot quicker.”

You slap the side of her ass gently, “Get your head out of the gutter, Tasha. That’s not what this is.”

“Can’t help it when there’s a pretty girl on top of me,” she teases.

If you weren’t so determined to give her this surprise, you probably would’ve succumbed to her charms right then and there. 

Your slightly cold hands slide under her satin tank top and push it up, revealing her bare back to you. Slowly, you place pressure on her lower back, kneading soft circles into her skin. Your wife lets out a quiet breathy moan, one nearly as pretty as the ones she lets out the other times you’re on top of her. 

You work your way up her back, taking longer on particular spots where you feel a tight knot rippling under your touch. The longer you massage her, the more Natasha begins to relax, nearly sinking into the soft mattress beneath her. 

“Feels so good, milaya devushka.”

“Good, baby, I’m glad,” you tell her softly, placing a kiss right in between her shoulder blades.

“Could fall asleep right now,” she mumbles.

“Go ahead, Nat. You deserve to relax.”

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 1

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

1/10

Note: Yes, it's getting finished besties.

W/c: 2.2k

“Emma has ballet classes on Tuesday and Thursday nights,” Natasha breathes nursing her mug steaming with whatever tea flavor she’s decided to drink this month. She avoids your gaze letting her eyes focus on the steam rising steadily from the cup. She sips waiting for you to answer.

“Okay,” You sigh rubbing your sweaty palms against the leg of your jeans. “I can take Wednesdays with Ryan if you can do Thursday nights with Emma and then we trade Tuesdays?” You suggest looking over to the woman on the other side of the counter.

“No, I have training with Steve on Thursday nights,” She declines.

“Since when?” You ask your eyebrow raised.

“Since forever.” She answers simply. “Besides you are much better at interacting with the other dance moms. Emma will want you there too.” She reminds you.

“Okay,” You say again. “What about carpool? How is that going to work if we’re in separate places? Do we keep them every other night? Switch off on weekends?”

“No, Emma’s finally gotten through her sleep regression we can’t change that now.” Natasha shakes her head. She decides she doesn’t want the tea anymore turning her back to empty it into the sink. She leans against it heavily with her arms folded gazing out of the casement window.

“Nat, we’ve been at this for an hour already,”

She turns to glare at you and if looks could kill you’d be dead.

It’s dark here in the kitchen beside the light illuminating from the stove. You’re both tired and utterly destroyed but you need to do this. You don’t want to put your children in court. Custody battles could get ugly and you want this to go right. Looking at Natasha and the frustrated expression she sports you can tell she’s tired of this too. You glance over to your bags packed and waiting for you to take them. For you to leave. You both agreed you wouldn’t stay during the night anymore only keeping up appearances for the children until you’re ready to tell them. Until Natasha is ready. She notices your looks clenching the edge of the counter.

“Have somewhere to be?”She raises a brow.

“What? No.” You roll your eyes. “I’m just wondering if we’re getting anywhere with this. If we’re doing the right thing.”

“If we’re doing the right thing?” She asks incredulously. “Only one of us has made this decision. Only one of us is working to break up this family.”

“Nat,” You warn. You really didn’t want to go there with her tonight. You can feel the splitting headache at the base of your neck. There’s tension there and you reach up with your right hand to massage the spot. You can practically feel the knots under your fingers.

“Don’t call me that,” She practically spits.

“Fine, fine.” You sigh again. “I’ll take whatever day you want. Just send me their schedules and I’ll try to keep up with it.”

“There’s no try, y/n.” Natasha scoffs. “Either you’re there or you’re not. It’s not so easy to just hop in and out of your children’s lives when you want.” She returns to a defensive stance looking at you challengingly. “Then again I forgot who raised you.”

How dare she? Your jaw clenches slightly as you try to rein in your emotions. Your father was a deadbeat dad who only spent time taking advantage of your love for too long. He would come and go as he pleased only bothering to spend time with you when he wanted to look like the father of the year. You were nothing like him. Nothing like him! As you look into those forest green eyes you can see the dare there. She wants you to say something back.

“I’m not playing into your games,” You shake your head. “There’s never a moment where I haven’t loved our children less than the day they were born. I would never.”

“And yet you’re spending more and more time at the office,” She tilts her head. “Your paperwork sees more of you than they do.”

“Natasha, that’s unfair.” You ball your fists on your side. “You know things at work have been hectic. They know that. I-I try to be there as much as I can. Besides, I distinctly remember you being gone for months at a time for missions when they were young. I don’t see you getting any awards either.”

“Hmm,” She hums. “Seems we both have something in common then.”

“What is this really about, Natasha?” You ask. “Because there’s not much left for us to say or for us to do.” You stand walking over to your bags. You slip your cell phone inside of the carry-on and turn back to her.

“Right, run away like the coward you are.” She mutters.

“What?” You’re taking steps closer to her this time. You don’t realize how close you are until she’s pressed against the counter. Your breaths are practically intermingled and this is the closest you’ve been in months you realize. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Natasha says nonchalantly. “It’s just you have a tendency to run away from your problems. You run when times get hard.”

“And you don’t?”

“Like I said we have a lot in common,” She stands a bit taller. “You don’t have to do this. Any of this I mean. If it gets hard for you. I can take Ryan and Emma and I’ll figure something out with their schedules. I’ll tell them something about you having to work or I don’t know. Just don’t play with their hearts.”

“Dammit, Natasha,” Your hand raises and you don’t miss the way she flinches. You’re not going to hit her. You would never. At that moment you feel like an idiot as you back away from her. “Jesus.” You breathe. “Nat, we can’t keep doing this. Pretending that we love each other. I mean in the beginning, things were so loving and so passionate. I’ve loved every minute of our life together but it’s just…. I…” you stumble to find your words.

“Who says I’m pretending?” She frowns.

“It’s not enough anymore for us to be holding on by a thread,” You drop your hands back to your sides. “It’s not enough for us to be two people in love anymore. That’s not how a marriage works.”

“Is that it? Or I am not enough?” She’s vulnerable at this moment looking at you. Her voice cracks just slightly and you feel your heartbreaking. You’re not heartless and you’re not a monster. You never wanted to make her feel this way. “Did you find someone else?” She asks suddenly.

“I’m not a cheater.” You reply. How could she possibly think she wasn’t enough? Natasha was everything. She’s always been everything. Your everything. Sometimes things don’t work out the way they’re supposed to. That’s why you’re here and after 9 years of marriage and two children, you aren’t taking this lightly. You’ve sat on this for the better part of a year and you decided a divorce was better. You fought more in the past year. Spent more time apart. Kept yourself out of the house more and more. Anything to put some space between the two of you.

“You know that’s really hard to believe when you haven’t been present for a very long time,” Natasha says.

“What? Just because I’ve been away more doesn’t mean I would cheat?”Where would she ever get this idea?

“We haven’t had sex in almost two years,” Natasha points out. Damn! Has it really been that long? Surely you’ve been intimate more recently than that. There was that time a few months ago when you had her against the sink in one of the bathrooms at Tony and Pepper’s anniversary party. No. You’d gotten interrupted and forgotten all about it. “So if you’re not getting it from me you’re getting it from someone else. Just tell me instead of giving me the bullshit excuses you have been. Is it Cara from accounting? She’s sweet. Nice body. Lisa from HR? I bet she eats pussy well enough. ”

“Natasha, I am not a cheater.” Your voice raises and she immediately shushes you. If you wake the children this is going to turn into an even tougher conversation. In a hushed tone, “I can promise you, Natasha I have never cheated on you.”

“So tell me what it is,” Her tone is almost petulant and childlike. She’s frustrated and hurt. The next thing is for her to lash out and you’d much rather leave before she gets to that.

“Nat, I can’t because there’s not just one simple reason,” You try to force your mind to focus on the conversation in front of you. “We aren’t who we used to be. We fight more than we love. That’s not how a marriage should be. It’s not good for the kids and it’s not good for us.”

“And you made this decision all on your own,” Natasha’s voice wavers. Before you can speak again there’s a small voice coming from behind her.

“Mama?”

You both turn to see sleepy green eyes looking up at you.

Four-year-old Emma (four and a half according to her) looks between the both of you as she tries to figure out the situation in this room. She’s holding her favorite blue blanket, the one she’s had since she was a newborn, to her chest. She looks so small in her nightgown with her red hair messy as she trails over to Natasha. Her blanket drags against the ground as she walks. She raises her arms to be picked up and Natasha obliges her.

“What are you doing up, printsessa?” Natasha raises the girl onto her hip caressing her back and head as she rocks her gently.

“I heard yelling,” She pouts looking over to you through her thick lashes. She looks exactly like Natasha despite you having carried her. It’s something you both joked about after choosing her donor. Ryan looks more like you. He’s seven and apparently a much deeper sleeper. “Mommy, are you going somewhere?” Emma asks pointing her chubby fingers over to your door.

“Yeah,” You answer her.

“For how long this time?” She shoots another question.

You look to Natasha for help on how to answer but she simply looks away burying her face in Emma’s hair.

“For a little bit, Babygirl.” You try.

“But I don’t want you to go.” Emma’s pout deepens. “You have to stay and eat breakfast with me, and Mama, and Ryan.”

“Not this time, I can’t.” You say.

“Oh,” She looks down before looking up at you. “Well, when you get back can we have a sleepover in your and Mama’s bed? We haven’t done one of those in a long, long time?” Her voice is hopeful and you can tell she’s fighting her sleep again.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper. You can’t bring yourself to lie to her. You don’t want to be like him. Giving her false hope.

“Tell you what, Printsessa, you and Ryan can sleep with me tomorrow night.” Natasha bounces her on her hip. Emma’s eyes light up at the promise. You’re so grateful she’s taken the lead. She’s had to frequently these days. “Now you can sleep with me tonight too. Go upstairs and get warm and I’ll come and tuck you in.” She releases Emma from her hold and the girl slides down from her body. She begins to run to the stairs before stopping in her tracks. She turns to run and you kneel to catch her in your arms. She wraps her arms around your neck landing a wet kiss on your cheek.

“I love you, Mommy. Come back soon,” It’s a thing you and Natasha used to say whenever she was away on missions. Hearing your daughter utter those words brings tears to your eyes. In your peripheral, you can see Natasha is just as emotional as she wipes the tears away quickly before Emma can see.

“I will,” You manage to get out as you hold her in your arms for a few seconds. Finally, you let go and she takes off running presumably for your bedroom. You stay kneeling before rising to your full height. You reach out to Natasha to comfort her, you’re not really sure why, but you’re expecting her to pull away. She doesn’t. She allows you to pull her into your arms and she buries her face into your neck. You hold her as a sob rack her body. You dare a kiss to the side of her head and she pulls away from you as if she’s been burned.

She wraps her arms around herself defensively. She looks so small at this moment. With her black leggings and her oversized sweater.

“I’m broken, and I’m tired and it’s your fault so please leave.” She doesn’t wait for you to say anything else as she turns to follow the same path your daughter has taken. She trusts you enough to lock the door. As you look around the home you’ve built you can’t help but feel guilty. Everything you’ve built was crumbling and you can’t help but feel it’s all your fault.

----> next part

[the-winter-spider]

Invisible | Part 11

Pairings: Bucky x Reader (eventually lololol)

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: Angst, stupid people, dramaaaaa

A/N: I aint ready for peace yet 😇🫶🏻

Masterpost

NYU 4th Year

The late afternoon sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon as you exited your lecture hall, your bag slung over your shoulder and your mind already racing with thoughts of your looming paper. The quad was buzzing with students heading off to their weekend plans, and you were lost in your thoughts when you spotted Natasha leaning casually against a lamppost, her red hair catching the golden light.

“There she is,” Nat called, waving you over with a grin. “What took you so long? I’ve been standing here for ages.”

“Class ran late,” you said, rolling your eyes as you walked up to her. “Professor decided to drop a surprise reading quiz on us.”

Natasha scoffed, falling into step beside you. “Reading quizzes on a Friday should be illegal. Anyway, there’s a party tonight at Walker’s place. You coming?”

You hesitated, already feeling the weight of your weekend workload. “I don’t know, Nat. I’ve got that big paper due next week, and I’m kind of behind. I was planning to get a head start tonight.”

Natasha groaned, clasping her hands together in an exaggerated plea. “Come on, please? Wanda already bailed on me, and I really want to see this guy who’s going to be there. I can’t get stuck with the boys by myself—they’ll ruin my whole vibe.”

You sighed, torn between responsibility and the infectious energy of your best friend. “Fine,” you said reluctantly. “But I’m starting my introduction before we leave. No arguments.”

“Scout’s honor,” Natasha said, raising three fingers in a mock salute.

You gave her a pointed look. “You weren’t even a Girl Scout.”

She grinned, undeterred. “True, but I can feel it. In another life, I was definitely a spy.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you parted ways. “Yeah, sure, Nat.”

By the time you got back to your dorm, Natasha was already busy texting, her phone lighting up with each rapid-fire message. You could tell by the sly smile on her face that she was talking to her crush. The thing about Natasha was that she always knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it. She was a spitfire, sharp-tongued and unapologetically confident, but underneath all that fire, she was a hopeless romantic. Most guys your age weren’t ready for someone like her, but that never stopped her from trying.

You sat at your desk and opened your laptop, determined to at least get your introduction done before the night derailed into party chaos. The words flowed easily, and by the time you finished your intro and even managed to start your first paragraph, you felt a small sense of accomplishment.

Alright you texted Natasha, I’m done for now. Let’s get ready.

Within seconds, your phone buzzed with her reply: Finally!!! Be there in 5.

True to her word, Natasha burst into your room moments later, her arms loaded with a makeup bag and a pair of heels. You both commandeered Wanda’s bed, laying out a mess of possible outfits, debating the merits of each one as you tried to find the perfect look.

You finally settled on a sleek black mini-dress that hugged your figure in all the right places, paired with short heels and of course your signature neckless: your locket. Natasha went for a bold red jumpsuit with a plunging neckline and sky-high heels.

Standing side by side in front of the mirror, Natasha let out a low whistle. “Damn, we’re hot.”

You giggled, adjusting the strap of your dress. “We clean up nice.”

Natasha’s eyes drifted to the delicate gold locket resting against your collarbone, and she smiled. “That locket… you’ve been wearing it forever. I’ve never seen you without it.”

You glanced down, your fingers lightly brushing over the familiar weight of the locket. “Yeah, it’s kind of a family thing, my mom gave it to be before she passed"

Natasha, smiled sadly her curiosity piqued. “You never did tell me what’s inside.”

You held the locket, fidgeting it between your fingers. “On one side, there’s a quote about love that my great-great-great-grandmother supposedly wrote. My grandma told me everyone who’s had this locket would place a photo of the man they loved on the other side—so they’d always be close to their heart."

Natasha’s eyes softened. “Your whole family sounds like a bunch of hopeless romantics.”

You laughed. “Apparently. Guess it runs in the blood.”

Natasha smirked, leaning in. “So… who’s in yours?”

You hesitated, your fingers lingering on the locket before closing it. “No one,” you said, offering a small smile. “I don’t really have anyone to put in there right now.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Mhm, sure. No one at all?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not everyone is as quick to fall head over heels as you, Nat.”

“Hey,” she said, placing a hand over her heart dramatically, “I just know what I want.”

“And what you deserve,” you added with a grin.

Natasha nodded approvingly. “Exactly.”

With that, you both grabbed your bags and made your way out of the dorm, ready to take on the night. Natasha’s phone buzzed again, and she couldn’t hide the excitement on her face as she typed back.

You glanced at her, smiling softly. “Texting your mystery man?”

“Maybe,” she said with a wink. “Tonight’s going to be fun—you’ll see.”

The crisp night air buzzed with the energy of the weekend as you and Natasha made your way down the crowded street, laughter and music spilling out from houses along the way. The distant thump of bass grew louder with every step, and soon you were standing in front of John Walker’s house, its windows glowing and the porch already packed with students.

Natasha looped her arm through yours as you approached the door, her heels clicking against the pavement. “You know,” she said, her voice light but teasing, “I always thought you might have Bucky’s picture in that locket.”

You stumbled slightly, your eyes snapping to hers. “What?”

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Come on, don’t act so surprised. You two have been inseparable since kindergarten. Best friends, sure, but there’s always been… something.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but she didn’t give you the chance. “I mean, hey, no judgment. I’m just saying I’m a little surprised he’s not in there.”

You were about to respond, to come up with some half-hearted deflection, but before you could, Natasha grinned and yanked you toward the door. “No time for heart-to-hearts now. Let’s find the boys.”

The moment you stepped inside, the heat and noise hit you like a wave. The living room was packed, bodies swaying to the beat of the music as red solo cups were passed around. You caught a glimpse of a makeshift beer pong table in the corner, surrounded by a cheering crowd. The scent of cheap alcohol and sweat mingled in the air, and someone had already spilled something sticky on the floor.

Natasha scanned the room with a practiced eye, her grip still firm on your arm. “There they are,” she said, nodding toward the far side of the room where Steve and Bucky were leaning against a wall, talking. Steve had his usual easy smile, but Bucky’s eyes flicked across the room, as if he was keeping tabs on everything and everyone.

Natasha released your arm and nudged you forward with a sly grin. “Go on. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.” Before you could protest, she disappeared into the crowd, already hunting down her mystery man.

You took a deep breath and weaved your way through the throng of people, your heart picking up speed as you got closer to them. Bucky’s head turned slightly, and when his eyes landed on you, a slow smile spread across his face. He nudged Steve, who looked up and gave you a warm wave.

Here’s a revised version with smoother transitions and more natural dialogue flow:

“Well, well,” Bucky’s voice cut through the noise as you and Natasha finally reached him and Steve. He leaned casually against the wall, a lopsided grin on his face. “Look who decided to show up.”

Steve chuckled, raising his cup in a mock toast. “Didn’t think we’d see you tonight. Thought you had some big paper to write?”

“I did,” you replied, crossing your arms with a smirk. “But Natasha here wouldn’t take no for an answer. Said it was a life-or-death situation.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Natasha, relentless? Shocking.”

“She’s practically a force of nature,” you said, glancing around. “So, drinks?”

Steve drained the last of his beer and set his cup down with a satisfied sigh. “You two go ahead. I’m gonna head over to the keg and see if I can beat my personal record tonight.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Best of luck, Stevie.”

Steve winked as he stepped away. “Now that you’re here, I don’t need it.”

As he disappeared into the crowd, you and Bucky stood there in a comfortable silence for a moment, the bass of the music thumping around you. Then, Bucky gave you one of his signature half-smiles, the kind that always made your heart skip a beat. “Come on,” he said, reaching for your hand and pulling you toward the drink table.

His touch was brief but enough to send a spark up your arm. You followed without protest, a small smile tugging at your lips. When you reached the table, he handed you a drink, his fingers brushing against yours—a fleeting, seemingly innocent moment that left your cheeks warm.

“Thanks,” you murmured, avoiding his gaze as you lifted the cup to your lips.

Bucky leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and for a second, you forgot how to breathe. But before you could think of a response, Natasha appeared from behind you, clapping her hands together, cutting through the moment.

“Alright, people,” she announced, her tone playful. “What’s the plan? Beer pong? Dancing? Or do we just stand here and look devastatingly cool?”

Bucky smirked, his eyes still on you. “I think we’ve already nailed the last one.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “How about we find Steve before he gets himself into trouble?”

Bucky raised his cup in agreement. “Solid plan.”

With that, the three of you moved back into the crowd, weaving through the crush of people and the haze of music. Even as the party buzzed around you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Bucky’s lingering gaze—or the way your locket, pressed against your chest, seemed to grow heavier with every step.

"There he is!" Natasha beamed, stopping "Buck you go watch him, me and my girl are gonna dance for a bit!" Before either of you could respond, Natasha was already pulling you away, you turned around glancing over your shoulder briefly to see Bucky's blue eyes smiling at you as he gave you a single wave.

The music thumped loudly in your ears, the bass vibrating through the floor as you swayed with Natasha in the middle of the crowded living room. The alcohol buzzed warmly in your veins, and for a moment, you let yourself forget about everything—about the paper, about the tension that always seemed to linger whenever Bucky was around.

You and Nat were giggling, holding onto each other as you moved to the beat. It was freeing, exhilarating even, until your gaze drifted across the room and landed on him.

Bucky was leaning casually against the wall, his signature smirk firmly in place as he talked to a blonde. She was laughing at something he said, her hand lightly resting on his arm. They were close—too close. Her hair glinted under the dim party lights, and the way she leaned in, hanging on his every word, made your stomach drop.

Your world stopped for a second. The music faded into the background, replaced by the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You blinked, trying to shake it off, telling yourself it didn’t matter, but the familiar ache settled in your chest anyway.

You tore your eyes away, grabbing your red solo cup and downing the rest of its contents in one go. The burn of the cheap liquor didn’t help, but it gave you something to focus on. You crushed the cup in your hand and let it drop to the floor, the plastic crumpling beneath your heel as you forced yourself to keep dancing.

“Fuck it,” you muttered under your breath, plastering a fake smile on your face.

Natasha laughed beside you, her movements loose and carefree. She slurred slightly, her words barely audible over the music. “Hey! You… you took your necklace off!”

You frowned, reaching up to touch your neck instinctively. “No, I didn’t.”

“Then where is it?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she swayed in place.

Your hand moved frantically over your collarbone, panic setting in as your fingers found only bare skin. Your locket was gone. “Shit,” you whispered, your eyes wide as you started scanning the floor beneath your feet. “Nat, it’s gone!”

Her hands immediately went to your shoulders, steadying you. “Don’t panic,” she said, her voice slurring but her tone trying to stay calm. “It… it can’t be far.”

But it was too late. The panic clawed its way up your throat, and tears prickled at the corners of your eyes. The music was too loud, the crowd too thick. You dropped to your knees, your hands scrambling over the sticky floor as you searched desperately for the locket.

“Excuse me! Sorry!” you mumbled, trying to push past people, but it was no use. The sea of feet around you made it impossible to see anything.

You backed up, bumping into someone behind you. A pair of hands immediately settled on your waist, steadying you. “Hey, you okay?” the guy asked, but you shoved him off without even looking, your vision blurring with tears.

Natasha was back at your side in an instant, her hands on your shoulders again, her mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear her. The world felt like it was spinning too fast, and all you could think about was the locket—your family heirloom. The one your mother had given you before she passed away. The one that had been passed down for generations. And now it was gone, lost in the chaos of some stupid party.

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you stumbled backward, your breathing coming in short, panicked gasps. You didn’t even realize someone was pulling you out of the house until the cool night air hit your skin.

“Hey, hey,” that same guy's voice said, low and urgent. You blinked through the haze of your tears, and your heart twisted painfully when you saw who it was.

Bucky.

He had his hands on your arms, guiding you away from the crowd, his eyes filled with concern. “Come on, you’re okay,” he murmured, leading you to a quieter spot on the porch. “Breathe, alright? Just breathe.”

You tried to speak, but the words got caught in your throat. Your chest heaved as you struggled to catch your breath, your vision still blurry from the tears.

“Look at me,” Bucky said softly, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

His words, his presence, grounded you just enough to pull in a shaky breath. “It’s gone, Buck,” you finally managed, your voice breaking. “The locket… my mom’s locket. It’s gone.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he glanced back toward the house. “Okay,” he said, his voice calm but determined. “We’re gonna find it.”

You shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “There’s too many people. It’s probably already stepped on or—or lost for good.”

“Hey,” Bucky said firmly, his hands tightening slightly on your arms. “We’ll find it. I promise.”

You stared at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was unwavering determination. His eyes softened, and he gently wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“Wait here,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’m going back in.”

“No, Buck—”

“I’ll find it,” he interrupted, giving you a small, reassuring smile. “Just stay here.”

Before you could protest, he turned and disappeared back into the house, leaving you alone on the porch, the night air chilling your skin. You sank onto the steps, your hands trembling as you clutched at your knees, praying silently that he was right.

The minutes felt like hours as you sat on the porch, arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Every time the door opened, you looked up, hoping to see Bucky stepping out with your locket in hand. But each time, it was just another person stumbling out into the night, oblivious to your panic.

Finally, the door opened again, and Bucky emerged. His expression was serious, his steps purposeful, but his hands were empty.

Your heart sank, the last bit of hope slipping away. He walked over and crouched in front of you, his eyes meeting yours with a steady calm.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice firm but laced with regret. “I checked everywhere I could. Asked everyone. It’s just… not there.”

You nodded slowly, your throat tightening as you tried to process his words. The locket—your mother’s locket—was gone. A family heirloom, passed down through generations, lost in the chaos of a party. You tried to speak, but all that came out was a shaky breath.

“It’s gone,” you finally whispered, the words feeling heavy and final.

Bucky’s hand rested lightly on your knee, grounding you. “I know how much it meant to you,” he said, his voice steady. “And I’m sorry we couldn’t find it tonight. But we’ll figure something out. I’m not giving up.”

You shook your head, blinking back the tears that blurred your vision. “It was the only thing I had left of her,” you said, your voice breaking. “And now it’s just… gone.”

Bucky’s fingers gently squeezed your knee. “I get it,” he said quietly. “It’s not just a thing. It’s her.”

You nodded, wiping at your cheeks, but the tears kept coming. “It feels like I let her down,” you whispered, your hands trembling in your lap. “I should’ve been more careful.”

Bucky shifted, sitting beside you on the step. His shoulder brushed yours, and he looked out at the street, his voice calm and certain. “Hey, your okay, its gonna be okay”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to absorb his words. “How can you say that? Its gone,” .

“I know,” he said, his tone understanding. “But your mom wouldn’t want you to carry that weight. That locket—it was important, sure, but it doesn’t change the connection you had with her. You’ve got all those memories, all those stories. She’s still with you.”

His words settled over you, comforting in a way you hadn’t expected. You leaned into his shoulder, letting out a quiet sigh. “Thanks, Bucky,” you said softly, your voice still thick with emotion. “For always being there.”

His arm came around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Always,” he said simply.

For a while, you just sat there, the distant hum of the party fading into the background. The ache of losing the locket still lingered, but Bucky’s steady presence eased it, bit by bit. He didn’t try to fix everything, didn’t offer hollow reassurances. He just stayed—solid, dependable, exactly what you needed.

You broke the silence, your voice soft and hesitant. “What about that girl…?”

Bucky didn’t let you finish. “Forget about her,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I have my best girl right here” his eyes met yours, and for a moment, there was something unspoken between you, something heavy and meaningful.

Eventually, you sat up, brushing the last of the tears from your cheeks. You gave him a small, wry smile. “Guess I owe you one,” you said quietly.

Bucky chuckled, the sound low and warm. “You don’t owe me anything,” he replied. Then, with a playful glint in his eye, he added, “Except maybe a rematch at beer pong.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound a little shaky but genuine. “Deal,” you said, the weight on your chest feeling just a little lighter.

Now

Sam takes a deep breath as he reaches the door to your shared apartment, bracing himself. He isn’t entirely sure what he’s walking into, but he knows Bucky isn’t handling things well. He knocks firmly and waits, listening for any movement inside.

After a long pause, the door creaks open. Bucky stands there, looking like absolute hell. His hair’s a mess, his eyes bloodshot, and he’s still in yesterday’s clothes, rumpled and wrinkled.

“Sam?” Bucky’s voice is hoarse, his brow furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah, man,” Sam says, leaning against the doorframe. “I came to check on you. Can I come in?”

Bucky steps aside, muttering, “Yeah… sure. Guess you uh probably know everything already.”

Sam walks in, his eyes immediately catching the shattered lamp on the floor, pieces scattered across the living room. “I know her side, but there's two sides to every coin” The air feels heavy, tense. He turns to Bucky, his voice steady. “She’s at Steve and my place. She’s safe if you're wondering.”

Bucky winces, looking away as his shoulders slump. “Good… that’s good.” He lets out a bitter chuckle, running a hand over his face. “Guess you’re here to tell me what a screw-up I am, huh?”

Sam shakes his head, exasperated. “Bucky, I’m not here to kick you when you’re down. I’m here because we’re friends. And friends don’t abandon each other, even when one of them is making dumbass choices.”

Bucky scoffs, dropping onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. “Yeah, well… I deserve it.”

Sam takes the chair across from him, studying Bucky’s hunched figure. “You look like hell, man. Want to tell me what happened, your version?”

Bucky hesitates, his voice low and broken. “I don’t know. She was just standing there, looking at me like… like she was just disgusted at being in my presence ...and it hurt, i said sorry for the bar comment, but then we started to hash things out, I got so damn scared. So I did the only thing I know how to do—I pushed her away. Told her to leave.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, his tone sharp. “So you let her walk out? Alone? At night?”

Bucky’s face twists with guilt, and he nods. “Yeah, I know, i went after her but she was gone, that's no excuse i know, i put her in danger Sam, i can't believe it….And now she probably hates me.” He chuckles bitterly. “Hell, maybe she should, i do.”

“Don’t give me that self-pity crap,” Sam snaps. “She’s hurt, sure. But you know damn well she doesn’t hate you.”

Bucky exhales shakily. “Maybe she should. All I ever do is screw things up. I push her away because… because I’m too scared to admit how I feel. And now? I don’t even know if I can fix it.”

Sam leans forward, his voice firm. “You’ve got two choices, Buck. Sit here and wallow, or get off your ass and do something about it.”

Bucky finally meets his gaze, his voice barely a whisper. “What do I even say?”

Sam nods toward the shattered lamp. “Start by picking up the pieces. Then tell her the truth.”

Bucky swallows hard. “What if… what if it’s too late?”

Sam’s voice softens. “That’s a chance you’ll have to take, you cant just throw away the friendship you two have, i dont even know my friends from kindergarten, i couldnt tell you the slightest thing about em now….but you’ll never know unless you try.”

Bucky hesitates, then leans back, his gaze distant. “I’ve tried, Sam. More times than I can count.”

Sam frowns. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky’s voice grows quieter, tinged with frustration. “I’ve been trying to tell her for years—little things here and there. Dropping hints, pushing the boundaries, trying to get her to see me the way I see her. But every damn time, she pulls back, like she’s scared of what’s on the other side of those walls she’s built.”

Sam watches him, his expression thoughtful. “And you think she doesn’t feel the same?”

Bucky lets out a hollow laugh. “I don’t know. Maybe she does, maybe she doesn’t. But how the hell am I supposed to keep putting myself out there when she won’t meet me halfway? Why does it always have to be me to make the first move? Why can’t she give me a sign? Something, anything that lets me know I’m not imagining this?” Bucky’s voice cracks, and he rakes a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling out. “It’s like every time I try to get closer, she pulls back. And then I’m stuck wondering if I’m just some idiot chasing after something that was never there.”

Sam leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re scared, she’s scared—it’s a mess, man. But sitting here, letting the fear eat away at you, isn’t gonna solve anything. You want her to meet you halfway? Maybe she’s been waiting for you to show her it’s safe to.”

Bucky shakes his head, his jaw tightening. “I’ve shown her, Sam. Hell, I’ve been there for her through everything. I’ve tried to coax her out of those walls, but every time I think I’m making progress, she shuts me down. And now? Now she’s out there, going on dates with other guys. What am I supposed to think?”

Sam tilts his head, his gaze steady. “You ever think maybe she’s just as scared as you are? That she’s waiting for you to stop hinting and just say it outright?”

Bucky’s fists clench, his frustration boiling over. “Why does it have to be me? Why can’t she take the damn risk for once? I’m not the only one in this.”

Sam exhales, leaning back. “You’re right, it’s a two-way street. But you’ve got to ask yourself—if she’s scared, just like you, who’s gonna be brave enough to break the cycle?”

Bucky stands, pacing the room. His voice drops, low and pained. “What if I put everything out there, and she doesn’t feel the same? I don’t think I could handle that.”

Sam’s gaze follows him, his tone firm but empathetic. “Or what if she’s been feeling the same this whole time, but she’s been too scared to lose you? What if she’s been waiting for you to say what she can’t?”

Bucky stops, his hands on his hips, his head bowed. “I can’t lose her, Sam. Not as a friend, not as… whatever this is. She’s everything. And if I’m wrong—if I tell her how I feel and she walks away—I don’t know what I’ll do.”

Sam stands, crossing the room to face Bucky. “Buck, you’re already losing her by doing nothing. This limbo you’re both stuck in? It’s tearing you apart. You’ve got to take the leap, man. Because if you don’t, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

Bucky swallows hard, his eyes clouded with doubt. “And if I crash and burn?”

Sam gives him a small, encouraging smile. “Then you’ll get back up. And you’ll know you tried. But if you don’t take that chance, you’ll always wonder what could’ve been.”

Bucky lets out a shaky breath, his hands still clenched at his sides. “I’ve never been good at this—at saying what I feel. And now, with everything so screwed up…”

“Then stop overthinking it,” Sam says. “Tell her the truth. Not hints, not half-measures. The whole thing.”

Bucky looks at him, his expression caught between fear and hope. “What if she’s already made up her mind? What if she’s moving on?”

Sam shakes his head. “You don’t know that. And you won’t unless you ask. But hiding behind ‘what ifs’ isn’t gonna get you anywhere.”

Bucky stares at the shattered lamp, his mind racing. Finally, he lets out a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping. “Alright,” he says quietly. “I’ll talk to her. But if this blows up in my face, you’re buying me drinks for the next decade.”

Sam smirks, clapping him on the shoulder. “Deal. Now get yourself together, man. You’ve got work to do.”

Bucky nods, though the weight of what lies ahead presses heavily on him. As Sam heads for the door, he glances back. “Just remember, Buck—she’s not the only one with walls. You’ve got a few of your own.”

Wanda clapped her hands together, her tone light. “Okay, enough brooding. How about some brunch? I’m starving.”

Natasha perked up at that, crossing her arms. “I could go for some pancakes. What about the farmers market?”

You sighed, your head falling back against the couch. “I’m down for food, but we can’t go to the farmers market.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her tone edging toward irritation. “Why not?”

“Because we can’t go there without Bucky,” you said simply, your voice flat but firm.

Natasha groaned, throwing her hands up. “God, why does everything have to come back to Bucky? He’s not exactly the Farmers Market King. We can survive one trip without him.”

You sat up, your eyes flashing. “Stop it, Nat. Just stop. Look, we’ve all messed up before. Bucky’s not some random guy who screwed up—he’s Bucky, its him. He’s been there for me through everything. We can’t just hate on him because we got in a fight.”

Natasha scoffed, her voice sharp. “I can hate on him just fine. He’s an asshole, and I’m tired of watching him drag you through this endless cycle of misery.”

Your hands clenched at your sides as you stood up, your voice snapping like a whip. “And I’m tired of you acting like it’s so black and white! He’s not perfect, but none of us are. You think I haven’t made mistakes? You think I haven’t hurt him too?”

Natasha stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. “You’re always defending him! No matter what he does, you jump in to shield him, like he’s some wounded puppy. When are you gonna wake up and realize he’s not worth it?”

“He’s not worth it?” you said, your voice trembling with anger. “You don’t get it, Nat. He’s not just some guy who broke my heart. He’s my best friend! You don’t throw someone like that away because they messed up once, or twice, or even a hundred times. He’s Bucky, for god’s sake!”

The room went silent, the weight of your words hanging between you. Natasha stared at you, her jaw tightening before she shook her head, letting out a bitter laugh. “Fine,” she said coldly. “Do whatever you want. But don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart again.”

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed off into Steve’s room. Natasha grabbed her bag as she headed for the door. Before she left, she glanced at Wanda and Steve, her voice sharp. “All I do is try to help, but if she wants to keep sticking up for his dumb ass, that’s on her, leave me out of it next time.”

The door slammed behind her, leaving an uncomfortable silence in her wake.

Wanda and Steve exchanged glances, both looking a little shell-shocked. Finally, Wanda sighed, brushing her hair back. “I’ll go after Nat,” she said quietly. She turned to Steve, her brow raised. “You got her?”

Steve nodded, giving Wanda a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’ve got her.”

Once Wanda left, Steve turned to. Steve hesitated for a moment before following. He knocked gently on the door. “Hey… you okay?”

There was no answer at first, just the sound of you pacing. Finally, your voice came through, quieter but still tense. “I’m fine, Steve. Just… need a minute.”

Steve leaned against the doorframe, his voice soft. “Take all the time you need. I’m here, I’ll always be right here…”

[hollyseb]

BARTENDER (PART 4)

You need to make ends meet. How far are you willing to go?

Warnings; violence, blood, swearing

No permission to copy my work

AN; thank you for all the love. And the story will get saucier i promise!!!! Also, happy new year :)))

Part 3 here: https://www.tumblr.com/hollyseb/738091620032987136/bartender-part-3

“There’s been a hit placed on your girl. $10,000. Dead or alive.”

Fuck.

The mobsters from the other night, the ones he beat, must’ve seen him shield you from their attack. Fuck.

The blood in Bucky’s ears was thumping. He could no longer hear Steve. They were going to kill you.

Bucky pushed past Steve, shouldering him out the way, running to the lift. He was disgruntled, fearful, his hair sticking to his forehead, before turning around to Steve.

“Steve, I need you and Sam to organise a watch schedule. She will be surveilled 24/7, and then I need you to contact Rumlow. I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.”

Bucky couldn’t get out of his office fast enough, rushing into the underground garage and into his blacked out Mercedes. He tried to ignore the way his hands were shaking as they locked onto the steering wheel, speeding towards your apartment block.

You had just gotten home, unashamedly lightly touching your lips. He’d kissed you. That was the best kiss you’d ever had. You’d just sat down on your sofa, reaching for your phone to message Nat about the encounter. Your front door was kicked down with a bang.

What the fuck? Your head whipped around to the door, practically jumping out of your skin at the commotion.

It was Bucky. You could tell he was distraught, “you know you could’ve just knocked, right?”

“Honey, you need to come with me right now”, he rushed over to you, cradling your face in his hands. Relief was pouring from his body, his eyes raking over you for damage.

“W-what? Bucky, I’m fine? What’s going on?” Your eyebrows furrowing at his panic.

He was lifting you from your sofa, “go and pack a bag, you need to stay with me for a little bit”.

You pulled your hands out of his, “Bucky, what is this? You can’t just bust into my apartment and-”

“Go and pack a bag. And come with me. Now.”

What the fuck? You didn’t like this. The way he was pushing you. But he had a desperation you hadn’t seen in his eyes before. Was he… scared? You just nodded, grabbing a duffel bag and packing your clothes.

Bucky was scoping your apartment, checking outside the window, his hand on his left trouser pocket. He was erratic.

You emerged from your bedroom, Bucky grabbed the duffel bag from your shoulder, his hand wrapped around your waist as he guided you out of your apartment, he was holding you plush to him. You were finding it difficult to walk. He couldn’t take his hands from you.

He placed you in the passenger seat, buckling the seatbelt for you. He rounded his car, before speeding off.

“Bucky, I want to know what’s going on.”

“Just… just wait okay. We’re going to my house. I’ll tell you everything when we get there, okay? The most important thing is that you’re safe”, he reached across and gently laid a hand on your knee. A sharp, calm contrast to how he was acting.

He was just so relieved he had managed to get to you.

The drive to his house was quiet, other than his mobile ringing off the hook.

He pulled up to this house, you couldn’t see it at first. It was completely gated, and the garden fenced with tall trees. The driveway was long, and you couldnt help the gasp that escaped your lips when his house came into view.

It was huge. Gorgeous. Simple but eloquent. The garage opened automatically and again, he helped you out of the car. You tried to stop yourself from ogling his other cars. God, how rich was this man?

He guided you into the foyer, a high ceiling with a huge chandelier. Sam and Steve were standing in the centre of the room, around a table, pieces of papers scattered everywhere, both completely enthralled in what was in front of them, lifting their heads to give a stern nod to Bucky when they saw you.

They were looking at maps, blue prints, criminal records, identifiers. You’d never seen them so serious. You knew something was wrong. Terribly wrong. You were itching for Bucky to tell you.

Bucky guided you up the stairs, into the master bedroom. It was simple, but cozy. Grey hues, with books scattered around. A huge wardrobe with you assumed held all of his suits.

“Please sit, and I don’t want you to panic”, you could only nod in response as you sat on the edge of his bed.

He kneeled between your legs, rubbing circles into your knees, “Honey, those men from the other night. They have… they want to … take you.”

“W-what are you talking about?”

“They have placed a hit on you. They saw you with me, and they are using that as leverage”, the words barely sounded in your ears, he could see the panic rising in your face, “but look, you’re here, I’ve got you. You’re safe, as long as you’re with me”

Bucky explained the security system in his home, the bodyguards, the cameras, the protection. You were overwhelmed. And scared. What would they do if they got their hands on you?

You couldn’t help the fearful tears that threatened to fall.

“No, no, no honey, don’t cry”, Bucky stood up, still crouching to meet your eyes. His hands rising to cradle your face, and wipe your tears with his thumbs.

“I’m just scared Bucky”, your hands shaking.

“Shhh”, he pressed sweet kisses into your hairline and he wrapped his arms around you. He hated how scared you were.

Bucky whispered, about how he was going to protect you, how Sam and Steve were tracking down the assailants to take them out. He instructed you to get changed, still sitting in the skirt and sweater you wore to meet him earlier. That felt like a lifetime ago.

You tugged your clothes out your bag, a cozy set to try and smooth yourself.

Bucky left the room so you could change. You didn’t want to admit it but you felt a little less safe with him just standing outside the door.

Despite the weight of the topic at hand, he couldn’t help the stiffening of his cock at the sight of you sitting on the edge of his bed. So innocent, so small. He wanted to devour you. He could see your nervousness, the way you lightly perched in the corner. God, he wanted you in the middle of the bed, spread, your hair falling around you like an angel.

When he knocked on the door, you were tugging your hair from your sweater. He thought you looked beautiful.

You followed him downstairs, back to the room where Sam and Steve were scheming.

“How you holding up, bartender?” Steve said, a soft, supportive smile on his teasing face.

You couldn’t help but smile, “I’m fine, really. I think it’s this guy that you need to be worried about”, you motioned to Bucky, standing in the kitchen, shoulders drawn with tension and jaw constantly twitching.

He looked over his shoulder and sent you a small smile while Steve smirked. He had never seen Bucky so stressed.

He walked over and pulled out a chair and motioned for you to sit down, returning with a hot cup of tea in his hands and placing it beside you with a hand on your shoulder. He rounded the table to sit with Sam and Steve.

It was magnetising, really, the way he was so involved in his work. Instructing Steve to produce blueprints of the warehouse they assumed the opposing mob was inhabiting, and the way he instructed Sam to devise a discreet plan of entry. He was so… dominant. Leading. It was… hot. I wonder if he’s like this in the bedroom.

You tried to shake the thoughts, and the way you couldn't take your eyes off of him, reminding yourself the reason you were here. You turned your focus to the tea.

Bucky was constantly looking towards you, checking you were okay. He smiled when he noticed your eyes becoming droopy. You were tired. You felt safe enough with him to let yourself drop off. He adored it. It was… unexpectantly domestic.

He nudged you, “come on honey, let’s get you to bed.”

You nodded into his chest as he guided you back to his bedroom, peeling the covers back for you and helping you step in, “I’ll be downstairs, come down if you need anything, okay?”

You could only nod, your eyes heavy with sleep. You were exhausted, overwhelmed… and very comfortable. The sheets smelt like his cologne, as if he had his arms around you.

Meanwhile, Bucky, Steve and Sam were downstairs, quietly discussing and scheming how they were going to take down this mob once and for all. He knew they would never stop coming for you after they had seen how much he cared.

Tonight. It had to be tonight. Before more people recieved wind of the hit, and to show others what happened when they messed with Bucky.

They stacked up their guns, loading them into the back of the matte black SUV. Sam and Steve were built for these moments.

You softly drifted off to sleep, until you heard the floor creak open. You barely opened your eyes, assuming it was Bucky back from the warehouse. You expected to feel a kind hand rub your shoulder, or maybe a kiss pressed into your hairline. When a hand was placed over your mouth and nose, your body instantly kicked into overdrive, gasping for air and flailing under the hand.

Your legs kicked out at the tall man, as his other hand worked to grab your wrists.

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitc-“, the gritty voice seethed.

You could feel yourself becoming light headed at the lack of oxygen. No, no, no, no. You began to pass out. Where the fuck was Bucky?

AN; next chapter is ahhh!!!!

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