#leaving room for barton

[theminiartblog]

I'll return to asking about the leading ladies next ask but I have to ask about my favorite antagonist since I was, like, 10! What happened to Clive after unwound future in your continuity? Was the attack a show like in miracle mask or was he stopped before he could attack London? How did he and Flora become friends and then closer?

Hear me out! I have OPINIONs! About the ending of Unwound Future past the forever bleeding wound in my heart that is Layclaire.

Sticking with the cutscenes, Clive very much did cause some serious damage to London, and he was lucky enough to get away with no casualties. I will give him that as my blessing, as it’s hard for me to downplay what he did--not that I'm saying you are either, but it definitely was not a hoax ala Miracle Mask or the “so-called murders” of Eternal Diva. There were many injuries, and much to rebuild.

At the same time, something that Chelmey says near the end always gets me going. “People can often be so blinded by their motivations they lose sight of the damage they do. But criminals aren’t the only blind ones.” This was in reference to Prime Minister Bill Hawks. I hate him so much, I’m sure we all do, he gets my blood boiling; We don’t let him get away with his misdeeds here. Some investigation is properly done, and Bill Hawks also gets sent away to jail, for having a hand in the time machine explosion that happened years prior. Now, I’m not a big student of law, so I’m sure the statute of limitations may have already run out, but there’s always exceptions to be had somewhere. I’d like to think they cracked that case right back open, hearing the connection. After all, at least three people had suddenly appeared with witness accounts, and plenty of evidence.

Now, mini, you may be asking? What does this long rant have to do with Clive? Well, this also managed to shorten Clive’s sentence as well! He got himself some well deserved therapy, while he was at it. During this time, and some time after, one of Clive's main confidants was the Professor. Flora is still staying with Layton, at this time, so she gets to speak with him as well. She wants to be mad at him, she is mad at him, he snatched her away with no regard for her own safety, used her as a pawn, locked her away as a prize to a puzzle for all she knows! For no other reason but because he could...

But also he was hurting, he was hurt. He’d lost his parents, and she knew that pain. That didn’t mean he was absolved of his wrongdoings, that doesn’t justify the means and make everything better, but she could at least hear him out. She could at least show him some kindness. He needed a little more of that in his life. He apologized to her, not expecting forgiveness, and she wasn’t ready to give it yet, but she could at least listen. They became friends eventually, and then-

Well, I’ll have to get back to you on the rest ♥️

[quietlyimplode]

the language of flowers and silent things

Whumptober 2023: Day 10: You said you’d never leave

Warnings: nightmares, discussions of time in the red room (and all that entails)

Word Count: 1.8k (gif not mine)

Summary: Natasha and Clint discuss finding Yelena (and all the ways it could go wrong).

A/N: The set up for tomorrow. For everyone who’s kept up and comments, my love for you is tenfold. It’s what keeps this going. Thank you.

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

.

2014

BUDAPEST

Isla sits and waits.

She’s going to give Natasha ten minutes.

The black widow scratches at her thigh and takes a sip of her Italian coffee.

Budapest is chilly, but not what she would call cold. It makes Isla smile that the city where Natasha made her escape, is the one she had chosen to reconnect in.

Nevertheless, it had given her an opportunity to go shopping and purchase a new identity and set of katanas.

She sees Natasha, her red hair tied back framing her face, a single braid.

Isla knew what that meant, someone is watching.

If more braids, a different communication system, one that only the Red Room girls knew.

A French braid vs a Dutch one, could mean the difference between safety and danger, but she didn’t think that Natasha still trusted that.

Still, Isla focuses on the world around her, the sounds of people talking, idle chatter, cars and then… tunes it all out, focusing on the widows approach.

Natasha had, of course, seen her.

Isla wonders what language she will approach her in and is unsurprised to hear the Russian safe words flow out of her mouth.

She nods, and answers appropriately.

“You wouldn’t prefer English? Hmm? Your new language and lack of accent are impressive, but I suppose that is what happens with immersion.”

The dig rolls off Natasha as she responds in Russian again, smiling and crossing her legs.

“Still as pernicious as ever.”

Isla rolls her eyes, not understanding the word, thinking she will have to look it up.

“The money is deposited,” Natasha nods, “tell me what I want to know.”

Isla looks around.

“You have a sniper trained on me?”

She waves to the right, a movement of her fingers.

Natasha looks around and sees the slight glisten off mirrors under the table.

“Of course,” she nods, “and I suggest you don’t move from your seat until twenty minutes have passed after I go, otherwise…” she makes a sign for explosions using her mouth to puff out sounds.

Isla laughs.

“I didn’t even feel it underneath me.”

Natasha leans forward.

“Tell me, where can I find her?”

Isla laughs again.

“Straight to the point. I’m surprised you didn’t look sooner. She won’t want to come with you, you know? She’s the Red Room’s heavy hitter, a killer with skill and style, no conscious, no remorse, the perfect assassin.”

“Much like you were, little Natasha, before you became a traitor,” she finishes.

She leans back.

“Do you think the Red Room went easy on her after all you did? Anyone attached to you was reprogrammed, sent to the hole, the scientists and to Odessa.”

“Do you think we didn’t get punished? They wondered where they went wrong when their best efforts resulted in a traitor.”

She rolls up her sleeves, showing acid burn marks that makes Natasha look away.

“Those closest to you, of course, got it worse, and Yelena? Well, even though she hadn’t seen you or known you for years, well, let’s just say, they made her stronger, performed more experiments on her.”

The words hurt the way Isla wants them too.

Even though Natasha’s posture doesn’t change, there’s a subtleness in the air, and no longer is Isla on the defensive.

“You want to know where your sister is?” she laughs, easily.

“She’s where she’s always been; where you’ve never wanted to go.”

She shrugs.

“The question is; will you do to get her back?”

Natasha regains composure. Subtle as it is, Isla feels the shift and focuses on her.

“As agreed, as paid for,” she says, voice low, “tell me where she is.”

Isla produces a piece of paper.

“How does it feel to know that despite your best efforts to get rid of the Red Room, it just moved to a new location with a new figurehead. Do you really think Dreykov was the puppet master? Killing him did nothing.

It just made them stronger, more malicious, more deranged. And we? We got caught in the crossfire. He was a buffer, using the Red Room more for his personal gain; when they came in, they used it how it was intended. For war.”

She takes a breath, feeling the vitriol pounding through her.

“Little girls doing the bidding of wealthy men. Trafficked and sold as good little soldiers. You sister. Me.”

She snarls.

“But it doesn’t matter to you, fighting aliens, fighting Hydra, what does it matter to the great Natasha Romanoff, the black widow of Russia; defector to America?”

Isla wants to stand and move but is aware of the pressure plate under her.

Natasha is right, they gave her money and they have her at cross hairs.

She makes her heart rate slow, realising how much composure she had lost in her tirade, and Natasha, just absorbing it with her sunglasses on, face neutral and legs still crossed.

“Yelena is currently on a mission in Singapore, she’s collecting information on the G8 summit being held.”

Isla finally passes her the piece of paper.

“You’ll find her there, but don’t expect to be welcomed back.”

Natasha takes it and stands.

“The second transfer will come when you leave,” she tells her, looking down.

“Oh, Natasha?” Isla holds her drink up.

“It’s been good to see you.”

Brows furrowed, Natasha holds up the piece of paper and leaves, disappearing into the crowd.

Isla sips her coffee, then picks up her phone.

“It’s done,” she says into it, then snaps it in half and throws it under the table.

.

“It’s a trap,” Clint says, his voice raising slightly, “she gets you riled up and wanting to go after them, and you go because you want to help her.”

He gestures to the hotel map and points.

“This has got to be the worst access, even if I sit on the tower across here, and watch any extraction, we’d need a whole team to get her out; and if we take a whole team; it’s an international incident - even if it has nothing to do with the G8 gathering.”

Natasha hums.

“But we have to try, she’s there? Maybe even if I can talk to her-“

“What? Convince her to do that? Defect?”

Natasha frowns at him.

“Yes? I mean isn’t that the end game? Saving her?”

Clint crosses his arms over his body, then raises them up in surrender.

“We can’t take a team, even if Tony or Steve go, they’d create publicity, and we can’t afford that, we need to go-“

“Not as ourselves,” Natasha finishes.

“It’s a trap,” he starts again, “what would be protocol, if they wanted to pick you up?”

She looks at the map and the surrounding areas.

“I don’t know, I can’t tell you what I would do, but who even knows if they were telling the truth.”

Pausing, Clint calls Tony.

He picks up on the second ring.

There’s a crash and he swears.

“Hello,” he says finally.

“Can you screen entrants into a country,” Clint asks, “that have come through in the last week and in the next two days?”

Tony scoffs.

“Of course I can.”

They hear him walking and a low hum of a machine.

“This is about her, isn’t it?”

Natasha sighs.

“Yeah, it’s Yelena. How long do you think it will take you?”

Tony starts typing, and they assume he’s setting up a program. He’s silent before he answers.

“Give me twenty four hours.”

Natasha nods and thanks him, then hangs up and sighs.

“What now?” Clint asks, looking at the map.

“Make a plan then try and sleep I guess,” she replies.

.

She lets Clint go to bed, her mind still swirling with a question to no solution.

If it’s a trap, if Yelena will come, if she will defect, if it really is all her fault, how the red room is still standing, what happened after she left.

Her mind is a mess of questions and she makes herself focus on one.

How to get in and out with Yelena.

Everything else, all the other questions can wait.

Into the hours of the morning, she goes over everything, the way in, the way out, getting in and out of the country.

Her back up plans have back up plans.

Somewhere around 3am, Clint pads out, eyes bleary.

“Come to bed,” he asks, “we have some big days ahead.”

Natasha knows it’s true. Her eyes have been closing for the last twenty minutes and she knows she needs to rest.

Brushing her teeth, she wonders if it will work, then follows Clint into bed.

Mind heavy, sleep consumes her, followed by dreams and then nightmares.

.

Yelena sits in a chair, she’s 5 and Natasha covers her mouth with duct tape.

“Shut up,” she tells her.

Scared eyes watch her.

The dream morphs and there a dead girl on her left.

Yelena is holding a knife, blood on her hands.

“Did I do it right?” she asks, and looks up to Natasha who looks down on her, horrified.

It morphs again.

Yelena chases Natasha, she catches her and pushes her down, hitting her as Natasha protects her face.

“Why?” she screams.

“Why?”

“You said you’d never leave!?”

Natasha drops her guard and lets her hit her.

She did promise, she deserves the pain.

The third hit she feels herself being shaken.

“‘m sorry,” she moans.

“Nat? Natasha?”

Light fills the room.

Then a cold breeze.

Natasha shakes the dream.

Feels it fade away.

Clint sits on the edge of the bed, waiting, but she has no words for the dreams that plagued her.

“Bad dreams?” he says redundantly, handing her water.

She takes it and nods, not elaborating.

He switches off the light and turns off the fan.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks in the dark.

Reaching across, he takes her hand and places it on his chest.

“I promised her I wouldn’t leave,” she whispers.

“But then you got ripped apart,” he says softly, “that wasn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t go looking for her, that is my fault,” she continues.

“Natasha,” he admonishes, “you did your best with the capacity you had.”

She’s not ready to hear it, rolls over and backs into Clint’s arms.

“You always thought Barney would come back,” she whispers.

“But he couldn’t, and he didn’t,” he whispers back, “and sometimes we can’t change the things that have happened and we can’t go back.”

Natasha sighs deeply.

“I know.”

“Doesn’t make it better though, does it?”

Natasha feels silent tears fall.

She shakes her head against the pillow.

“We’ll get her Nat. It’s not your fault, okay? We’ll get her.”

.

[mastcrmarksman]

I refuse to believe that Clint is aware of pop culture and current social media trends or anything. He's only has a obscure and ancient references only. He may have been born in thus time, but this guy did not have cable TV for two decades. He was orphaned at seven and went to a Catholic orphanage, and then was on the road as a performer until the age of twenty two when he joined the Avengers. He does in fact live under a rock and the most TV he has watched is Dog Cops and British Bake off, he collects laser discs because he never got any other trend than that. The Avengers are sololy the reason he truly knows anything.

So really whatever weird taste that the other Avengers had? That's his. Whatever Hank and Jan's media knowledge. Wanda and Pietro? Simon Williams is responsible for Clint seeing movies and even then he lies to Simon that he has seen it.

Yes he is on his 20 something rewatch of Dog Cops. Yes he thinks House of Dragon is some kind of reference to a Fin Fang Foom fight.

[thebarneschronicles]

A Quiet Escape

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Synopsis: During a holiday stay at Clint Barton’s home, you’ve been desperately trying to steal a moment alone with Bucky—your super-soldier boyfriend—but the Avengers are constantly interrupting. Between Clint’s kids, Steve’s “bromantic” grocery runs, and Nat pulling Bucky into sparring sessions, it feels like you’re constantly fighting for his attention. Frustration finally boils over when you confront Bucky about your lack of privacy, only to discover he’s just as eager for some alone time as you are - and willing to do anything to get it.

Word Count: 6.3k

A/N: This is barely a holiday fic with Bucky - it’s mostly smut with barely any plot. I just had a vision. Don’t consider the MCU timeline - everyone is alive and together in this. And Clint’s kids are a little older but still proper kids.

—

You told him no.

The word hit the air like a thunderclap—sharp, unexpected, and rare enough to make his icy blue eyes narrow in disbelief. Then they widened, a flicker of surprise breaking through his usual calm.

Slowly, his hands retreated, leaving the curve of your waist, hot and cold pulling away at once. Arms lifted, palms open, as if surrendering to the sharp finality in your voice.

“Did I… do something?” Bucky’s voice was low, rough around the edges, his frown deepening as a steady breath expanded his chest.

“No,” you said again, firmer this time, though your heart stuttered at the flicker of hurt that crossed his features. Your gaze darted past him, locking onto the narrow crack of the door behind his towering frame. Three sets of eyes stared back, wide and unblinking, from the shadows of the barely open door.

“I don’t get it, doll,” Bucky murmured, confusion twisting his expression. His metal hand lifted toward your hip, the motion almost instinctive, only to grip empty air as you leaned back and pressed both palms flat against his solid chest.

“Bucky,” you hissed, nodding toward the door. “We’ve got company.”

He blinked, brows knitting together, before his head swiveled to follow your line of sight. The moment he turned, the door slammed shut with a loud bang, and the sound of frantic footsteps thundered away on the other side. Three pairs of little feet, retreating as fast as they’d been caught.

A low growl rumbled in his throat as realization dawned, but you couldn’t help the way your lips twitched upward, a mix of exasperation and amusement bubbling in your chest.

Company. There was always company.

At least, there had been for the past week, ever since you’d been swept into the whirlwind that was Clint Barton’s home. What had once been a cozy haven for his family had turned into a buzzing hive of activity, packed with super-soldiers, gods, and genetically—or technologically—enhanced heroes. The Avengers had descended, and while the world might have known them as Earth’s mightiest protectors, to you, they were beginning to feel like the world’s nosiest roommates.

It was the holidays, and by some miracle—perhaps one granted by Saint Nick himself—the planet wasn’t teetering on the edge of destruction. No alien invasions, no terrorist plots, no missiles hurtling toward oblivion, and, to your immense relief, no Hydra agents lurking in the shadows.

For once, it was a somewhat normal holiday season. If you ignored the superpowers and the enhanced DNA floating around the house, that is. More importantly, you were finally getting to see Bucky in an everyday, domestic setting.

And you loved it.

You’d caught him horsing around with Clint’s kids—Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel—who had taken an almost unhealthy fascination with his metal arm. Your normally stoic, brooding boyfriend had become their favorite jungle gym. You’d walked into the living room one afternoon to find all three of them hanging off his arm like little monkeys, giggling uncontrollably as he lifted them effortlessly.

You’d marveled at the sight of him brewing your coffee in the mornings, the way his lips twitched into a subtle smile when he handed you the mug, the steam curling between you. He shoveled snow off the driveway with Clint, laughing at the older man’s dad jokes, and indulged the kids in their never-ending demands to walk the family dog. While they chattered away endlessly, he listened with that quiet patience of his, nodding and occasionally chuckling.

But as much as you adored seeing Bucky like this—calm, grounded, happy—you couldn’t help but notice one glaring downside: you hadn’t had a moment alone together.

Not one.

Between Clint’s kids, Steve dragging Bucky out for “quick” trips to the store (which were never quick), and Nat luring him into sparring sessions when she couldn’t sit still anymore, your time with him had been thoroughly hijacked. And Lila—sweet, mischievous Lila—had an uncanny knack for giving you the stink eye every time you got too close to Bucky.

You were losing your mind.

It had been a month since you’d had real time alone with him. Work had pulled you apart, his responsibilities to the team had swallowed every spare moment, and now, what you’d thought would be your chance to reconnect had turned into a holiday circus.

You’d imagined this trip differently. Romantic walks in the snow, cozy kisses by the fire, maybe even some stolen, steamy nights in the attic of Clint’s house. But those dreams had been systematically dismantled by the chaos around you.

Everyone wanted a piece of Bucky—or you—or both of you. And while the holidays were supposed to be about togetherness, you were starting to think that all this togetherness might drive you both completely insane.

You let out a frustrated sigh, closing your eyes as you leaned back against the door of your shared attic bedroom. From down the hall, the giggles of your boyfriend's three tiny shadows echoed, fading into the room they’d darted into.

The sound of your frustration pulled Bucky closer to you, his hand finding the doorknob near your hip. With a gentle turn, he pushed the door open and guided you inside. The soft glow of the moon coming in through the large window spilled across his face, accentuating the sharp lines of his features as he quietly shut the door behind you both.

“Alright,” he started, his voice low but edged with concern. “You’ve been sighing like that for three days now, doll. What’s eating at you?”

You tilted your head to look at him, folding your arms. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that I haven’t had you to myself in weeks. Or that every time I even think about kissing you, someone—usually under four feet tall—pops up like a whack-a-mole.”

You pointed toward the direction of the room where the kids were hidden, having interrupted you and Bucky’s rare alone time for the millionth time today alone. You didn’t miss the way Bucky’s lips twitched, as if he was trying not to smile, and it just aggravated you further.

“They’re kids, sweetheart. What am I supposed to do? Ignore them?”

“No,” you grumbled, seemingly for the thousandth time, dragging your hands down your face. “But I didn’t realize signing up to be your girlfriend also meant being a full-time babysitter, snow-shoveling assistant, and third wheel to Steve freaking Rogers on your bromantic grocery runs.”

That did it—he laughed, a low, rich sound that made your annoyance falter for a moment.

“Don’t laugh. I’m serious!” you snapped, shooting him a glare, dropping down at the edge of the bed, both hands sliding into your hair, a clear sign of the frustration that seemed to be pouring out of your pores.

“I know, I know,” he said, holding up both hands in mock surrender. “I get it. This… isn’t how I pictured this trip either.” He crossed the room to sit beside you, his weight making the mattress dip. His flesh hand reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “I miss you too, doll.”

You softened at his words but refused to let go of your irritation entirely. “Then do something about it, Barnes. You’re a super soldier, a former trained assassin, a ghost agent—surely you can figure out how to steal your girlfriend away for five minutes without someone barging in.”

His eyes gleamed mischievously. “You think I haven’t been trying? Clint’s kids are like little spies. Lila’s practically Natasha junior. And Steve? Forget it. Guy has a radar for when I’m about to kiss you.”

“Of course he does,” you groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “He’s Captain America. Always watching. Always judging. It’s like dating a guy whose best friend is a giant Boy Scout.”

You paused, raising an eyebrow. “Wait—do you think Steve’s ever even been kissed?”

Bucky snorted, the sound so uncharacteristic it made you glance up. “What? You think I’d know that?”

The furtive way he avoided your eyes told you he did.

“C’mon, you’ve known him forever.” You leaned forward, narrowing your eyes. “He gives me virgin energy, Buck.”

“Virgin energy?” Bucky repeated, a smile spreading over his lips despite himself. “Doll, you’re gonna kill me.”

“I’m serious!” you said, barely stifling your own laugh. “The guy probably spent the ’40s too busy punching Nazis to even hold someone’s hand. And now? Forget it. I bet if you kissed me in front of him, he’d faint on the spot.”

Bucky dragged a hand over his face, unable to hide his amusement. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You know I’m right,” you teased, nudging him lightly with your foot. Your stomach tightened as his flesh hand wrapped around your ankle, tugging you closer. “It explains so much,” you went on, voice faltering slightly when he dragged his hand up your inner thigh, sending a shiver through you. “He’s probably the reason we never get a moment alone,” you added, squirming under his touch. His hand settled firmly on your hip, his chest solid against you as he laid beside you, his head propped up on his metal hand, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“What, because he’s a cock block?” Bucky asked, voice dropping lower.

“Exactly!” you exclaimed, shifting to allow his one leg between yours, ignoring the intense burn that settled low in your belly. “Think about it—if he’s not getting any, there’s no way he’s letting anyone else get laid. Misery loves company.”

Bucky shook his head, his grin making your heart flutter. “You’ve officially lost it, doll.”

“And yet, here we are. Still not kissing,” you shot back, looking at him pointedly, lifting yourself up onto your elbows so you could tilt your head up, lips ghosting over his.

“I’m done talking about Steve and his virginity,” he said, icy blue eyes dropping to your lips, his nose dragging over yours. “And for the record, doll, you’re the only one I want to see faint when I kiss you.”

“Oh, smooth recovery, Barnes,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself, breathing shakily with his proximity.

He leaned closer, brushing his lips against yours, voice low and rumbly in his chest, sending a surge of heat from your toes all the way to the center of your body. “How about this? Tomorrow morning, we sneak out. Just you and me. We’ll take the bike, get some coffee, and maybe… I don’t know… find a spot where no one can find us for a few hours.”

You stared up at him, your annoyance giving way to hope. “Promise?”

His frown softened into something more sincere, understanding. “Promise. I’ll even turn my phone off. No Avengers. No interruptions. Just us.”

“Okay,” you whispered, allowing yourself to relax into the idea.

But just as his lips brushed yours, the door creaked open, and a small voice called out.

“Bucky?”

You both froze, and he let out a soft curse under his breath. “Yeah, Nate?”

“Can you come read us a story? Lila said you promised!”

You turned your head, glaring at the ceiling while Bucky sighed, standing up. He glanced back at you with a sheepish smile. “Rain check?”

“Nate,” you called out, loud enough for the little boy to hear. “When you’re older, remind me to teach you about boundaries.”

His laughter followed Bucky out the door, leaving you to bury your face in the pillow, groaning dramatically.

When he returned fifteen minutes later, you were still face-down, your muffled voice rising from the comforter. “Why are you a children magnet? It’s like you’re Santa Claus, and they’re all lining up for their turn.”

Bucky chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I guess I’m just irresistible.”

You lifted your head just enough to glare at him. “You used to be scary. Remember those days? Big, brooding Winter Soldier? People crossed the street to avoid you. I miss that guy.”

He leaned down, grinning as he kissed the top of your head. “That guy never would’ve gotten you to fall for him.”

“Yeah, well, that guy wouldn’t be getting interrupted every five minutes either,” you muttered, pulling the pillow back over your head.

The first rays of sunlight peeked through the attic window, casting a warm glow over the small room. You stirred at the soft sound of movement, the creak of the floorboards familiar enough to pull you from sleep. Cracking one eye open, you saw Bucky crouched by the foot of the bed, lacing up his boots.

“Where do you think you’re going?” you mumbled, voice thick with sleep as you pushed yourself up on your elbows. The room is warm and you can smell the soap and shampoo coming out of the bathroom, the steam of Bucky’s shower still rolling out under the door even after he’d gotten out of it.

He glanced over his shoulder, wet hair dropping onto his forehead, his dog tags dangling from his neck, a sly smile playing on his lips. “You, me, the bike, and some much-needed alone time, remember?”

You blinked, processing his words, before groaning and flopping back onto the bed. “It’s too early, Barnes.”

“It’s not. You just want to stay in bed,” he teased, leaning over you, his lips brushing your temple. “C’mon, doll. Coffee awaits. And I’ve got a spot picked out where no one will find us. Not even Steve.”

“Not even Steve?” you repeated, hope warming your heart, cracking a smile despite yourself. “That’s ambitious.”

Bucky chuckled, his fingers trailing lightly over your arm. “Trust me, I’ve planned this escape like a military op. Now get dressed before Clint’s kids wake up and ruin everything.”

The mention of his tiny shadows jolted you awake. You sat up, pushing your hair out of your face. “Fine, but if one of them catches us sneaking out, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, grinning as he stepped back to let you get ready.

Half an hour later, you were showered and wrapped in your warmest coat and scarf, perched on the back of Bucky’s motorcycle as it roared to life. The crisp morning air nipped at your cheeks as you sped away from the Barton farmhouse, the sound of the engine loud enough to drown out any lingering holiday chaos.

“Where are we going?” you shouted over the wind, your arms tightening around his waist.

“You’ll see,” he called back, his voice filled with a levity you hadn’t heard in days.

After about half an hour, he pulled off onto a narrow dirt road that wound through a dense forest. The bike came to a stop in a clearing, where a small cabin stood sturdy and welcoming, the promise of warmth, quiet, and alone time beckoning you inside.

The cabin was nestled among tall pines, their branches heavy with snow that caught the early morning light, casting a soft glow over the place. The structure was rustic, with a large stone chimney rising above the roof, smoke curling lazily into the pale blue sky. The wooden exterior, darkened by age, gave off a comforting, lived-in feel, as if it had been waiting just for this moment. The windows glowed faintly from within, a sign of the warmth that awaited inside.

Bucky killed the engine and swung off the bike, turning to help you down. “What do you think?”

You looked around, taking in the serene beauty of the scene, the stillness of the forest enveloping the cabin like a protective embrace. “It’s perfect,” you said, your voice full of awe.

He grabbed the large bag he’d stuck on the bike’s saddlebag and handed it to you. “Coffee, as promised. Some other things as well. And no interruptions. Just us.”

You felt the warmth seep through you, both from the shee relief you felt and the way he was looking at you, his eyes soft with affection. “Okay, Barnes. I’ll admit it. You nailed this one.”

“Damn right I did,” he said, tugging you closer, lips brushing against your temple. His arm wrapped around your shoulder as the two of you headed towards your little safe haven. A satisfied smirk played on his lips, and you could feel the tension in his body ease as you walked together, just the two of you, heading toward the cozy cabin.

When you stepped inside, the scent of wood and pine mixed with something warm and comforting. The interior was just as inviting as the outside. The open space was simple but cozy, with a stone fireplace built into one wall. There was a leather couch near the hearth, a soft rug underfoot, and shelves stacked with books and a few family heirlooms - you didn’t have to ask him who it belonged to, the pictures lining the shelves told you you and Bucky weren’t the only couple who sometimes needed a reprieve from the Barton household.

Through the large windows, you could still see the vast expanse of the snow-covered forest, but inside, it felt like you were in a world of your own.

Bucky dropped the bag at the kitchen counter and turned to you, his expression softer now that you were finally alone. “How does it feel? No Steve, no Clint, no kids…”

“Perfect,” you murmured, crossing the room to stand by the fire, arms crossed over your chest.

Bucky followed you, his hands finding your waist as he pressed himself gently against your back. The cold of his clothes from the sharp wind outside sent a shiver down your spine, but the heat of his touch, his body against yours, was enough to make your heart race. The tension between you was palpable, growing bigger with each mile you put between you and the Barton farmhouse, unwinding itself as the space grew and crackling in the air like an electric current.

His hands, one cold and one warm, were steady on your hips, anchoring you in a way that made you feel safe and desired all at once. It wasn’t just the fire in front of you that made the room warm—it was the pull between you two, the undeniable chemistry that neither of you could ignore.

You tilted your head back slightly, allowing him to place a kiss on your neck, his warmth seeping into you, the fire’s crackle making the moment feel even more intimate. “This was exactly what we needed”, you hummed, eyes fluttering shut.

“Exactly,” he agreed, his breath warm against your skin. “Now, where were we before we got interrupted last night?”

You smiled, your heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. “I think you were about to make me faint.”

His amused laugh was the only sound that filled the space between you two, a low, warm chuckle that made your heart flutter. Then, before you could react, his hands turned you around gently, pulling you into him as his lips captured yours in a deep, consuming kiss. For the first time in what felt like forever, there were no distractions—just the two of you, wrapped in the fire of the moment.

His tongue traced the curve of your bottom lip, a teasing stroke that made your breath hitch, and then he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer. His hands slipped beneath your jacket, finding the soft, heated skin of your hip, and you sighed into his mouth, a sound full of longing and need. You melted against him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck, your head tilting to the side to allow him more access. The taste of him overwhelmed your senses, the familiar warmth of his mouth, the intensity of his touch, and you felt your legs grow weak, trembling with the hunger that surged between you.

Every inch of your body seemed to respond to him, to the press of his chest against yours, the way his hands moved with a quiet urgency that matched the pounding of your heart. You lost yourself in the kiss, in the feeling of his lips, his touch, as if everything outside of this moment didn’t exist. There was nothing but him and the intoxicating pull of his affection, and you knew, in that instant, that nothing else mattered but being with him—your Bucky, in the most intimate way you’d ever shared.

It had been so long—too long—since you’d been able to be this close to him, to feel his body against yours without hesitation. The longing, the quiet yearning that had built up between you, was finally starting to break free. You could feel the weight of it in every touch, in the way his fingers brushed over your skin, as if he was finally letting go of the last remnants of his walls. It was like you were rediscovering each other in this moment—his warmth, his presence—reminding you of the man he was when he allowed himself to be vulnerable with you.

His breath was warm against the back of your neck, and you could feel him trembling ever so slightly as you turned toward him, your eyes meeting his. In his gaze, you saw the storm of emotions—desire, need, love—that he rarely let others see, let alone act upon. The man you loved, the man who had once been a stranger even to himself, was now standing in front of you, and for the first time, he wasn’t pulling away. His lips hovered just above yours, the anticipation between you two thick, hanging like a breath waiting to be taken.

It hadn’t always been like this—him, so open, so ready to let you in. There was a time when he had been reluctant to trust, when the thought of giving his heart to someone had been suffocating, terrifying, downright impossible. But you had weathered the storm with him, through the nightmares, the quiet doubts, the fear that he wasn’t worthy of love. And with every touch, every word, you had proven to him that you could be his anchor. You were his safe place. His refuge. And now, he let you in, fully, in ways he had never allowed before.

His lips found yours in a longer kiss that was soft at first, a gentle exploration, but the hunger, the need, was undeniable. You could feel it in the way his hands tightened around you, the urgency behind his lips a testament to the desperation you shared throughout all the weeks you had been deprived of each other’s bodies, each other’s skin. He kissed as if he feared this moment would slip away, like so many had when friends had knocked on closed doors and children had tugged him away for a snow fight.

You responded in kind, deepening the kiss, pulling him closer, needing him just as much. The world outside, all of it faded into the background. There was only this—him, you, the electric tension that had been building for so long, and the quiet promise that this was just the beginning.

As his hand slid up your side, tracing the curve of your body, you could feel the weight of everything between you both—the time it had taken to get here, the quiet moments of trust and understanding, the slow building of love. But now, in the heat of the moment, all that mattered was the connection. The way he held you like you were the only thing that mattered, the way his touch seemed to ignite something inside you that you couldn’t explain.

He undressed you in a way that could only be described as deliberate—although his mouth was hungry, his hands took their time with every piece of clothing, hot and cold dragging over every inch of skin he managed to uncover. It was maddening, really, the calm he could have in certain moments where all you wanted was for him to lose control.

You pulled away from him slightly, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “You know,” you said, your voice low and sultry, “if you keep undressing me like that, I’m going to start thinking you’re waiting for someone to interrupt us… or that you’re torturing me on purpose.”

His grin was slow, all confidence and mischief. “Maybe I am,” he teased, his voice rougher now. “Maybe I like making you wait.”

You raised an eyebrow, your fingers running lightly down the front of his leather jacket, lingering on the zipper. “You know, I could make you wait too,” you purred, fingers pulling on the zipper until it opened, enough for you to drag your hand under the sweater he had underneath, his skin blazing.

He could’ve once been called the Winter Soldier, but there was nothing cold about Bucky. The icy blue of his eyes sent wild fires burning through your skin, his own skin always running a few degrees hotter than yours… you always joked he was your personal furnace, but it made it all the more true as you dragged your icy fingers under the thick knit that covered his torso.

Bucky’s breath hitched slightly, his hands tightening around your waist as if he was fighting the urge to pull you closer, to devour you. “Doll–” he said in warning, the edge of longing crystal clear in his voice.

You leaned in closer, lips grazing his ear as you whispered, “Maybe… maybe I’ll make you wait. Maybe I won’t let you touch me… maybe I’ll go back to the house and leave you like you did me… desperate, warm and so wet… Let’s see how you like that…”

You could feel him shudder at the words, the tension between you two growing thicker with every second. “You have no idea, Bucky… no idea how empty I’ve been, how much I’ve been aching–”

Before you could continue, he pressed his lips back to yours, deeper this time, more urgent. He didn’t hold back, his hands roaming over your body, tugging you closer, as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the fire building in both of you.

"God, I’ve missed you," Bucky breathed against your lips, his voice strained with need, his words sending a shiver down your spine. “You have no idea how much.”

You laughed softly, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, the feel of him intoxicating. “Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea,” you replied, your lips brushing over his, teasing, before pulling back slightly, your hands working quickly to push his jacket off. "But I guess we can talk about it later..."

His grip on you tightened, the words barely leaving his mouth before his lips moved to your neck, trailing hot, desperate kisses down your skin. “Later?” His voice was rough, his breath a heated whisper against your throat. "You think I can wait any longer?"

You nodded, a teasing smile curling on your lips, but it faltered when he pushed you back onto the leather couch, his lips never leaving your skin. You didn’t mind. Not one bit. This was finally your moment—just the two of you. The cabin, the fire, the stolen time, and all the teasing, the tension, the pure want that had been simmering between you two for so long.

"I want your mouth busy with something else," you gasped, voice shaking as he kissed a path lower down your skin.

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, his lips pulling into a wicked smile as he moved, doing exactly what you suggested. "I think I like the sound of that”, his voice low and teasing. His hands had already stripped your jacket away somewhere along the way to the couch, and now they were eager, pulling your top up, inch by inch, exposing more of your skin. His mouth followed, leaving heated kisses down your stomach as his hands worked to unfasten the waistband of your pants.

Your breath caught in your throat when his teeth grazed the spot just below your belly button, and you could feel your body tightening in anticipation. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, and you instinctively arched your back, urging him on, breathing getting harder as he exposed the top of your knickers, the skin of your thighs, your knees, little by little until he finally took away your pants like the obstacle they have been - with a violent sway of his arm, that landed the garment in a heap across the room. “Bucky…” you whispered.

He wasn’t gentle when he maneuvered you, grabbing you by the backs of your thighs and moving your body until he was kneeling between your open legs, hands pushing your knees back until he could spread you further, eyes hooded as he took you in.

You know he could see the damp, dark spot on your knickers - the one you had purposefully picked in the hopes you’d both find a bathroom somewhere and take advantage of it - but you couldn’t be self conscious about it. Never in your wildest dreams you had expected him to find a place for you to fully enjoy each other’s bodies and as he dragged the fingers of his metal arm down your covered slit, you silently thanked Clint and Laura for having a sex drive.

“Bucky–” you repeated, whiny and desperate, eyes stuck on where he’d slipped his fingertips on the side of your bottons, gliding slowly up and down, the cold of the vibranium pressing to your heated folds and sending goosebumps all over your body. “Quit teasing me!” you gasped, breath catching as he pulled on the damp fabric until he could finally see your glistening slit, his lips parting in awe, eyes darkening and filled with promise.

He smiled, the sight making your stomach twist, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins. "Teasing you? Baby, I’m just getting started," he murmured, his hands slid up and down your thighs with deliberate slowness, savoring the way you trembled beneath his touch, his mouth pressed to the inside of your knee as he leaned in.

You shivered, your hands reaching up to tug at the back of his hair, a muffled growl leaving his lips as he traveled further down your body, until his mouth was hovering over your aching cunt. "I swear, if you don't get on me, I—"

"Or what?" he teased, leaning down to brush his lips against your slit, just barely grazing them before he pressed a kiss to your mound. "You think you can fight me?” His voice was thick with amusement, but there was a rough quality to it that made your pulse race.

“I could strangle you… with my thighs…” You threatened with no real intent behind it, eyes closed for a moment as you tried to steady yourself, swallowing thickly against a gasp when you felt his flesh fingers spread you open, exposing more of your dripping core to him.

“And I’d die a happy man”, Bucky breathes, his brow furrowed in concentration as he licks his lips. “A very happy man…” he adds before he pulls your clit between his lips with the softest of sucks.

When you first started dating, the sheer idea of having Bucky’s mouth between your legs had been comical to you. The broody super soldier, the stoic, serious, impenetrable walls he’d put up made you believe he hadn’t been capable of this kind of passion - had he even had time to learn what giving head was?

You knew he wasn’t totally oblivious - you’ve read the files, you knew he was a ladies man in the 40s, the kind to run away from armed daddies who caught him with a hand up their daughter’s skirts. But with everything he’d gone through, the many years he’d spend locked away - from his body and his mind - you had no idea how far his… sexual education (or should you say experience) had gone.

So it is an understatement to say you were shocked when he first begged to get his mouth on you… and how much he enjoyed it. Every time he did you’d praise his skill, his eagerness, his urge to please and you’d get paid double the effort, double the delight.

This time was no different, as he dragged his tongue up and down your slit, humming when his lips closed around your aching clit. He was thorough, leaving no spot untouched, tongue dipping into your weepy entrance as he buried his face closer, unashamed and unabashed.

All you can do is moan and scratch his scalp, pulling his hair whenever his cheeks hollow and he suckles harshly against you. Every time Bucky puts his mouth on you, you can’t pick what you like most: when he’s lapping at your entrance with greed or sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves, but either way your toes curl and you pull him closer as he feasts as if it’s his last meal.

He’s so lost in it at times, he’s almost sloppy in his technique, choosing to lie there and taste your cunt and smell you. You’re lost in the sensations when he lazily probes your entrance before he pushing two of his fingers in and spreading them, exploring you gently, and you swallow back a moan.

“Bucky, please,” you whisper, face scrunching and you bite your lip, one of your heels digging into the couch. You’re begging for him, his body, his cock, because this? This is torture.

Because you haven’t had him in weeks and you feel everything - from the insistent licking of his tongue against your clit to the scissoring of his fingers - and it’s coming quicker than you had expected. He’d been between your legs for all of five minutes, but you’re barely able to take the combination of his eagerness and your needs, all of it stretching the elastic band that is your orgasm farther and farther, until you’re ready to snap.

“I don’t—“ you gulp, trying to push him off with your foot but he grabs you by the ankle with his free hand, icy metal fingers wrapping around your ankle with a tight hold. “I— fuck me, you’re gonna make me c-cum!”

Your words are supposed to deter him - to stop the assault on your swollen cunt, to stop the ballooning of pleasure building deep in your belly from the way his fingers work you - but he presses his face closer, because that’s what he wants. He won’t be able to do this again, not when you’re in a house full of children and heroes and people who can’t seem to understand what privacy is. This is what he wants to hold with him and carry with him when he’s got a long night with you laying by his side, unable to touch you how he so desperately needs, how he’s so sure both of you want. He wants to be able to bite his lip and still find ways to taste you from his memory.

Bucky pulls away with a filthy wet noise, lowering his forehead to your thigh, his voice suddenly raw. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Wanted you,” he confessed, his hands gently spreading your thighs further, his touch reverent, as if he couldn’t believe this was finally happening. “I’ve missed being this close to you.” His lips brushed your opening, a smacking kiss making your thighs tremble before he licks deeper, more fervent than the last.

“Me too,” you cry out, hips lifting up towards his mouth, sweat slicking down the back of your neck. The urgency in your body mirrored the way he gripped you tighter, his hands firm around your hips, pulling you closer, never wanting to let go.

“Fuck, Bucky, come on–”, you cry out, both hands shooting down to grab at his hair. “This isn’t how I wanted– I want you in me”, you beg, unabashed, and he groans against you, the vibrations of it pushing you closer to the edge.

“Give me a good one,” he breathes out, pulling away for a second to nuzzle at your clit. “Just one good one and I’ll give you my cock, doll. How’s that?”

It’s a delicate negotiation, but he never falters. Not until you’re biting down hard on the heel of your hand, desperately trying to silence the scream clawing its way up your throat, shaking thighs closing around his head as he brings you to your orgasm, your other hand twisting into the shoulder of his sweater.

His fingers are just as insatiable as his mouth and you’re panting, crying out his name pulling him closer and pushing him away until the waves of pleasure, one after the other, have subsided and your vision - that had gone dark, stars dancing behind your closed eyelids - is less blurry.

“That’s it,” Bucky breathes, teeth closing on the supple skin of your thigh, his chin, nose and lips glistening with your slick. “That’s my girl.”

Your fingers are shaky but insistent as you pull him upwards, profanities leaving your mouth as he drags himself until he’s settled between your spread legs, jean covered cock pressing against your swollen cunt. He’s still wearing the damned sweater and you nearly scratch him raw in your desperate attempt to pull it off, seeking bare skin and intimacy you had been craving.

When he finally pulls it off and settles on top of you, you taste yourself on his tongue, fingers dragging over the expanse of his broad back, the kiss animalistic and unbidden. “God, I love your mouth–”, you confess, heat pinking up your cheeks at the sincerity.

“Just my mouth?”, Bucky questions, muttering against your neck. You can feel his smile on your skin and you can’t but bite into your bottom lip.

“Your stamina too,” you whisper, moaning when he ruts against your core, the shape of his cock clear even under the fabric of his pants. “Cause I’m not done with you”, you shake your head, accepting the kiss he licks into your mouth.

"You’ve waited long enough, doll”, His eyes locked with yours, a playful yet intense look in them, his lips curling into a smile that spoke of things only the two of you understood. “I’m not going to stop now.”

[bethanydelleman]

People who want female characters to cry less? No. Stop it. You're doing it the wrong way. Make male characters cry. Make those beautiful men sob on their knees. Down with all this stupid emotional constipation! Here, I can fix it:

Colonel Brandon after he tells Elinor about his lost love Eliza? Stumbles out of the room, finds somewhere private, and bawls. Edward after leaving Barton Cottage thinking he'll never be able to marry Elinor? Make him weep! Mr. Knightley was glad it was raining when he rode back to Hartfield after learning about Frank's engagement because it gave his tears plausible deniability! Wentworth thinks Anne will marry her cousin? Sobbing mess of a man. Bingley can cry during the proposal when he thinks about all the time he lost not being with Jane. Edmund cries alone in his room after Mary calls clergymen "nothing". Henry Tilney cries without realizing it when Catherine accepts his proposal because he's so glad that no one is angry with him and confronting his father was way more emotionally taxing than he let himself acknowledge at the time. Henry Crawford feeling wretched and alone after the affair and sobbing into his hands. Show us post wedding and make Darcy cry after the birth of his first child.

Make them cry! MAKE THEM ALL CRY

[melodylnoelle]

It’s Fire, Isn’t It?

Hello! I saw this post from @creativepromptsforwriting a few hours ago and the second prompt immediately sparked this idea. It would not stay silent until it was out of my brain and on paper. So here ya go. Thank you for the prompt!

There’s absolutely no structure to when this fits in timeline-wise, I just knew what characters needed to be there and ran with it.

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Characters: Avengers and gn!reader

Warnings/Notes: Fire? Otherwise none

Words: 1519

Summary: It’s movie night, and someone needs to light the candles... but what to use?

Tags: @brightsunanddarkmidnight2-0 because ya asked :P

Masterlist

Please enjoy :)

           Bucky strolled into the common area of the compound, his face alight with excitement. “I am thrilled to report that our new toy here works remarkably well.” He swung the new flamethrower that Tony and Bruce had built, bringing it up with ease to rest in his arms.

           “Toy? That is not a toy, Barnes,” Tony protested, staring in shock at the casual way that Bucky held the flamethrower. “And would you be careful with that thing? Why did you bring it inside?”

           Bucky just shrugged. “I thought you would want it back. Figured you would run off and run tests on it or something.” He set it down, leaning it against the far wall.

           You were practically bouncing in your seat. “Oh! Does that mean it’s my turn to test it?”

           “Sure,” Bucky said at the same time that Steve and Tony both gave a resounding no. “Hey, I said it worked well! Don’t trust my opinion?”

           “Well, it would be idiotic of me to ask you to test it if I didn’t.” Tony shook his head. “Last thing I need is for Pyro over there to miss and burn down the building.”

           You turned to him with an exaggerated pout. “Please? I’ll be careful about it! I won’t use it without supervision if that’s what it takes.”

           “No. You I don’t trust around fire.”

           You turned around, huffing out a sigh and crossing your arms. You looked to Bucky just in time to see him wink in your direction, and you tried to hide your smile from the rest of the group. At least he knew you could be trusted to use it.

           “Why do we even need a flamethrower, anyway?” Clint asked, polishing his bow on the opposite couch from you.

           Nat shrugged, stealing one of his towels and taking it to the dagger that she was holding. “You never know when you need to set something ablaze.”

           Tony looked in confusion between the two of them and Bucky. “Hey, out of curiosity, why are there so many weapons out here instead, of, you know, in the armory downstairs? Since when has that moved to the common area?”

           Nat waved him off with a hand, not looking up. “Don’t worry about it, just set up your projector.”

           Tony raised an eyebrow, but his only response was to mutter under his breath too low for you to hear.

           Whatever it was amused Steve and Bucky, though. Bucky smiled, and Steve stifled a laugh next to you, shaking his head. “What movie are we watching again tonight?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

           “Phantom of the Opera,” you answered. “Nat’s pick.”

           “I felt a little musical today.” She smiled a little as she set her dagger down, satisfied. “Still popular on Broadway, so it works towards catching you boys up on pop culture references.”

           “Loosely,” Tony quipped.

           “Should we light some candles? I feel like that would make it a little immersive.”

           “Are there a lot of candles or something?” Bucky raised an eyebrow.

           You nodded as Nat agreed that it sounded like a good idea.

           “Tony, where’s the lighter?”

           “Behind the bar.” He pointed behind him, but kept his attention on angling the projector to the right spot on the wall.

           You got up and moved to the bar. You spent a few minutes searching through every drawer, listening to the idle chit-chat of the rest of the group, until you finally gave up. “Tony, which drawer? I don’t see it.”

           “Far right.”

           You frowned at the back of his head. “I checked that one, it’s not in there.”

           “Well check again, it’s in there.”

           You rolled your eyes but obliged, checking the drawer again. You even emptied the contents onto the counter for good measure. “Nope. Still not in here.”

           Tony sighed, moving from the projector to join you behind the bar. He looked in surprise at the contents before simply giving a perplexed “huh.”

           “Helpful,” you teased. “Any other places it would be?”

           Instead of answering, he decided to check everywhere behind the bar himself, then circled around to check the coffee table in front of the couch. Eventually, he gave up, too, putting his hands on his hips and staring back over to the bar. “I’m not sure.”

           “Well, that would have been nice, anyway.” Nat leaned back, settling into the other couch.

           “Could you ask JARVIS where it is?” Steve suggested.

           “JARVIS is great, but he is not responsible for knowing where every item in every building is.”

           “ON THE CONTRARY, SIR,” JARVIS came over the intercom. “I DO KEEP TRACK OF WHERE EVERYTHING IS PLACED, PARTICULARLY THE ITEMS THAT COULD CAUSE HARM IF MISUSED. UNFORTUNATELY, SIR, THE LAST OF THE LIGHTERS WAS USED EARLIER IN THE WEEK BY BUCKY AND Y/N.”

           “That was the last one?” you said, turning to squint at Bucky. “You let me look instead of just saying that was the one you took?”

           “I thought there were more!” Bucky protested.

           “Well. I guess that answers that.” Tony shook his head, moving towards one of the unoccupied armchairs.

           “There’s gotta be something that we could use,” Steve said. Ever the problem-solver, that he was.

           “Not unless one of you is holding out on me.” Tony sat, resting his arms on the leather. “Couldn’t one of you have been Human Torch? Or at least a firebender or something.”

           “It’s ok, Steve.” You patted his shoulder. “We don’t have anything to start a fire. It was just a thought anyway.”

           “Well, that’s not true. We have this.” Bucky stood, casually lifting the flamethrower into his arms again.

           “Oh yea!” You jumped up, standing over at his side to be out of the way.

           “No, no, no, no!” Tony was suddenly standing. “You can’t light candles with a flamethrower!”

           “Why not? It’s fire, isn’t it?” Bucky was smirking.

           “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you’ll burn the entire place down? Did that thought not cross your mind?”

           “Not if you only turn it on a tiny bit!” You were practically bouncing on your heels, wanting to see it turn on.

           Bucky looked between you and Tony. “I mean, I was just going to use the pilot light on it, but that’s also a good point.”

           “All it would take is one little slip of the hand or bump on the arm to set this whole place on fire. For god’s sake, there’s very flammable alcohol right over there!” He stood in front of it. “And you wonder why I don’t trust you with that thing. Barnes, put it down or you are never allowed to test it again.”

           “But it’ll work!” he protested half-heartedly.

           “What’s all this?”

           The deep voice behind you made you jump a little. You turned to see Thor and Loki emerging from the door, bags of snacks and candies in their arms. They were looking between the scene in front of them and Nat and Clint, who were sitting just on the other side of the table from the unlit candle. Their gaze made you look over to them, seeing Clint staring wide-eyed at the three of you, his expression completely juxtaposing Nat’s, who was smirking in amusement.

           You stifled a laugh at their expressions, ready to explain when Tony interrupted.

           “These two arsonists want to set the place on fire over lighting a candle.”

           “It’ll work!” Bucky protested. He had already slung the flamethrower away from Tony, letting it rest cradled in his arms, and there was a hint of laughter in his tone. He had given up on it, but was keeping it up for his amusement. “The ladies just wanted some ambiance, and this would help with that.”

           “Yea, or give them the ambiance of a hospital room.”

           “If you would both allow me,” Loki cut in, his expression a mix between puzzled and entertained, “I think I might have a solution to this… predicament.”

           All he did was wave his hand, and the sound of the crackling wood wick brought you attention back to the table. The candle was now lit completely.

           Right. He had seidr.

           “That works, too,” Bucky conceded. Steve chuckled from his place behind Tony, while Clint visibly relaxed.

           “Sorry, I misspoke. I didn’t need a Human Torch, just an Immortal Matchstick.” Tony gave Bucky a pointed look. “Now would you put that thing down or so help me.”

           “Alright, alright,” Bucky laughed, leaning it back against the wall and raising his hands in surrender. He settled back into the armchair. You let Thor and Loki have the couch with Steve, settling instead onto a beanbag chair on the floor in front of Bucky. You were close enough that you could hear him whisper to you. “I still think it would have worked.”

           “That should be the first thing that we test when we use it.”

           “No, you will not,” Steve ordered, but there was no force behind it. He was still trying to hide his smile from Tony.

           Bucky looked down at you and winked again, silently agreeing, as JARVIS started up the movie to its opening scene.

                                                             ***

Prompt: “You can’t light the candles with a flamethrower!”

[myfictionaldreams]

Accidents Happen // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

Requested by: @theatrelove3000​ (thank you so much for the message! I hope your eye is doing better and I hope you enjoy this fic)

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, hints of winter solider, minor injuries/reader is injured, protectiveness, possessive behaviour, anxiety, pool sex, butt plugs, anal/vaginal sex, double penetration, handjob, multiple orgasms, sir kink, praise kink, size kink, bucky needs a hug, mentions of murder, not beta read

Words: 6.4k

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Making friends whilst being in close connection with the mafia was both easy and difficult. Easy because you meet hundreds of new people every month and difficult because many of them were dangerous and untrustworthy. On the rare occasion, a friendship would be created and even though you were busy nearly every day for the gang, you still attempted to spend time with them.

Especially on special days such as your best friend’s baby's birthday. You’d met Laura Barton through her husband Clint, whom you’d met through Natasha. The two of you instantly bonded over having partners in dangerous jobs and if you ever needed a break, she’d always welcome you to her home with a hot drink ready and the kids running rampant which was a great distraction.

Today, it was her youngest, Nate’s 2nd birthday so you’d spent the afternoon celebrating with cakes and toys with the family. By early evening, you were the only one remaining, finally having time to cuddle with the toddler who was playing with the plastic toy train that you’d bought him as a present.

“What time are you and the boys leaving for the hotel?” Laura asked in between bites of vanilla cake. 

Your head flew back to avoid the wild swing of Nate’s tiny arm as he continued to play with the toy, making little noises with his mouth that made you smile. “Um, I think around 7, it’ll only take us half an hour to drive there but I can’t wait! Even though we are going for work, the hotel is stunning, and of course, Steve had to buy the best room, I think we’ve even got our own private pool”.

Laura’s eyebrows raised, letting out a low whistle, “They really do live a life of luxury. If they ever want to treat Clint and me to a weekend away any time soon I’d be forever in their debt”.

You laughed at your friend, “I’ll see what I can do”. Turning to look at Nate and poking the tip of his nose, “Do you think mommy deserves a trip away?” As you asked, you made the grave mistake of not watching his arm and there's one thing about toddlers, it was that they were surprisingly strong as he swung the train toy and accidentally smacked you in the face with it. “Oof, ok I’m taking that as a no”.

“Shit! Are you ok? Nate be careful”, Laura chastised to her son as she took him into her arms.

“It’s ok, he didn’t mean it, I’m fine”.

“You aren’t fine, you’re bleeding!” Laura was looking at you with wide eyes.

You were still slightly in shock, trying to remain calm to not scare Nate but you couldn’t deny it, your face was throbbing. Excusing yourself, you rushed to the bathroom and glanced into the mirror. “Shit, the boys are going to go crazy”. The toddler had managed to hit you right underneath your eye, the sharp corner had cut the skin and the surrounding area was already swelling and felt tender. Sighing to yourself, you cleaned the bleeding cut, thankfully it wasn’t deep enough for stitches and the bleeding had stopped already but with the location, you knew you’d probably end up with a black eye over the next day or so.

After you finished cleaning up, you spent a couple of minutes contemplating what the fuck you were going to say to Steve and Bucky. There wasn’t any way you’d be able to hide it with makeup and there wasn’t anything they hated more than seeing you hurt and you knew an overreaction was coming your way. Should you call them or tell them in person? At least in person, you could stop them from running off on a vengeance before you could even explain what had happened so decided you’d wait to tell them.

Leaving the bathroom, you found Laura waiting anxiously with the kids all playing in another room. She took one look at your face before mumbling, “Shit. Does this make me number one on the Rogers mafia hit list?” she joked but you knew she was also slightly serious.

Walking closer to your friend, you took her hands and grinned, even though the action hurt your cheek. “Not it doesn’t, it’s absolutely fine, the boys love Nate they’ll forgive him for anything. I should probably go through, face the music now rather than waiting around”.

You called Sam to pick you up and he text you once outside. Giving Laura and the kids a big hug, you reassured her once more that everything would be ok before leaving her house and walking down the path to the parked SUV with Sam in the driving seat. As you saw him, you waved happily, trying to appear as at ease as possible to keep the tension calm.

However, the moment you were close enough for him to notice the injury to your face, his smile dropped, eyebrows frowning as he hastily got out of the car, rushing to you. “Sam it’s fine-”.

“Who did this to you?” he asked urgently, hands cupping your jaw and tilting your face so he could examine your cut closely. Sam’s face was contorted into anger, something rarely displayed by your bodyguard and friend as he usually likes to be sarcastic and funny when around you.

Lifting your hands, you held onto his wrists, trying to pull him away but he held strong having not finished checking your injury. “Nate accidentally hit me with his toy train… A TODDLER hit me Sam so please relax”.

Thankfully he did. The tension in his shoulders eased as well as the frown on his face. Eyes still flicking across the cut, he instructed, “Tell me when it starts to hurt”. Carefully, he pressed his fingers across your face, inching towards the wound and you informed it where it began to be tender, so he knew just had big the injury was and how bruised it was beneath the swelling. It took a couple of minutes before he seemed somewhat at ease about the injury, finally looking away from the injury to look at the rest of your face before the corner of his lip turned up, “so a baby hurt you this much, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, gently pushing against his shoulder, “Yes! He’s stronger than he looks and yes, I am very embarrassed so please never bring it up again”.

Sam laughed as well, placing his arm over your shoulder and turning the two of you back towards the car. “Oh, you know I’m going to bring it up at any opportunity right?”

Rolling your eyes, you climbed into the car, pulling your seatbelt across your front as he did the same in the driver’s seat. “I could just have Steve or Bucky demand you to never bring it up again”, you suggested unseriously.

Sam’s smile faltered as he began to drive the two of you to the office, “I’m assuming you’ve not told either of them yet? Feel like we need to call everyone in to try and keep them both calm, they’re going to go apeshit when they see you”.

Sighing heavily, you had to refrain from wiping your face. “I thought about calling them but I know they wouldn't listen to me after I’ve told them about it so decided it was better to tell them in person. I just hope that it doesn’t ruin our trip away, I mean, maybe they’ll be calm because it was a baby, there will be no need to go on a vengeance tour of Brooklyn”.

Sam looked towards you with an awkward smile and that’s all you needed to see to know that was most likely not going to happen today.

Arriving at the warehouse, you tried to ignore the glances from other gang members when they noticed the cut to your face, a tension quickly building in the atmosphere which only meant your anxiety increased. You tried to smile at everyone to ease the nerves but it didn’t seem to work. It was only as you and Sam walked into the elevator and it was just the two of you did you release a deep, aggravated groan.

“I’m screwed aren’t I”, you say, glancing at Sam as he rolled up his sleeves like he was preparing for a fight.

“You aren’t screwed, I think you’re the only one who is actually safe”, he reminded you as the doors opened to the corridor to Steve’s office. The two of you walked at a slow pace, your head hanging low so that you didn’t see Steve and Bucky’s bodyguard waiting outside of the closed office door.

“Who died?” Natasha joked, seeing the solemn reaction from you both. Your head snapped up to her, about to reassure her that everything was fine but the words floated away as her grin instantly dropped at seeing your cheek. “What happened?” she asked in an authoritative tone, closing the gap with a single step, hands gripping your face much like Sam had.

Trying to keep your voice as steady and as calm as possible, you explained, “Little Nate decided the toy train had better use on my face than in the normal way”.

It took Natasha longer than usual to believe you, only accepting it as she glanced towards Sam who nodded his head and let go of your face. “Well… we’re all in for a long night then”, she joked but this time there was a hint of warning in her tone.

“Don’t say that, you should have seen what it was like downstairs”. You took a deep breath before continuing, “It’s going to be absolutely fine. I’m going to walk in there, explain to them that a toddler hit me in the face, let them have a little freakout and then we are all going to remain calm and continue with our trip away and it’s all going to be fine”. Niehter Sam or Natasha seemed convinced so you sighed once more, chewing on your bottom lip with nerves. Shaking your head, you rolled your shoulders to try and look as unbothered as possible, “I need to get this over and done with. If either of them leaves, could you follow them please and make sure they don’t do anything stupid”.

“We can try our best, boss lady”, Sam responded for the two of them, walking towards the office door and holding it open for you.

Taking a deep breath, you walked into Steve’s office, seeing both of them sitting at the large oak desk that was positioned in the centre of the room, laptops in front of them, face set with concentration. As your mouth opened to announce your arrival and quickly explain what had happened before they could freak, Steve’s eyes had already glanced away from his screen.

“What the fuck!” he growled, standing with such force his seat toppled over as he stormed towards you. “Who did this to you? What happened?” Steve was in front of you within half a second, his hands cupping your face, eyes full of a whirlwind of seething anger, worry and concern.

“Please don’t freak out, it’s absolutely fine, it was just an accident”, you managed to say as your face was turned in different directions by Steve as if the size of the cut would change but it remained the same. As Steve finished his inspection, Bucky was right there over his shoulder, eyes full of fury as he too checked the cut but then continued further past just your face. 

“Accident or not, I’m fucking killing someone”, Bucky barked, lifting your arms and searching for any more injuries and it was only as he lifted the front of your shirt did you push his hands away and take a step back.

“Both of you just wait, please. Absolutely no killing is happening because it was done by a two-year-old” you emphasised, not sure if they were even listening as they crowded around you. Placing a hand on either of their chests, you tried not to concentrate on the pounding of both of their hearts beneath your palms as you explained. “I was sitting with Nate, he was playing with his toy train that he loves by the way. I happened to get too close and didn’t see him swinging the toy and it caught me across the face and let me tell you, that boy is strong!”

You grinned to show the humour, looking between Steve and Bucky, waiting for any sort of reaction from them. Both sets of ocean-blue eyes were flicking from your mouth to your injury and just as you were able to explain again to them, it was Steve who moved first by cupping your jaw with his hand, this time it felt more comforting rather than him assessing you.

“Right let me just make sure I’m understanding this, Nate hit you in the face with the toy that you bought him and caused this much damage?”, he tilted your chin as he finished his sentence to show off your injury more.

“Yes that is exactly what happened. You can check with Sam if you want. Nate is a lot stronger than you’d expect someone so small to be”.

Steve nodded whilst taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down but his heart was still pounding under your hand. Leaning down, he kissed your forehead, showing his understanding of the situation. “How does it feel? Does it hurt?” he questioned, his blonde eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“It feels tender and bruised but only when I touch it and I can see the swelling out of the corner of my eye but otherwise it’s fine. I’ve had worse that’s for sure”, you tried to once again defuse the tension with a little joke but all it caused was Bucky’s jaw to tighten.

Steve noticed too and suggested, “Why don’t you go and wait by the car baby, we just need to wrap up everything here and we can start heading to the hotel

It was a simple idea but put you on edge with worry as Bucky had yet to say anything or snap out of the protective trance. Instead of arguing with Steve, you nodded, knowing that Steve could handle Bucky when he was like this and it was best to leave the two of them to it.

Stepping out of the office, you released a long heavy breath, now facing Natasha and Sam who were waiting in a stance like they were ready to tackle someone but relaxed seeing that it was you. Glancing over your shoulder, they were surprised when no one else followed after you. “Everything ok, Sugar?” Natasha questioned uncertainly.

“I’m not entirely sure. I think Steve’s ok but Bucky… he didn’t say a word to me. I think they’re having a talk so I’ve been sent to the car like a naughty child”. Sam chuckled, finally stepping forward and holding his elbow out for you to take.

“Well let then me escort you to the car m’lady”, he mocked and managed to pull a smile to your lips as you accepted.

It took nearly 45 minutes for them to finish whatever talk that needed to happen, and you’d hoped that Bucky would rush to the car but it was quite the opposite. He inclined for Sam to get out of the car and they spoke out of sight.

Sam wouldn’t be coming with you to the hotel, it was just supposed to be you and the boys so you waved to him in farewell as he climbed out of the car. Steve then slide in next to you, closing the gap in the middle so his body brushed against yours as you blinked up at him with a worried expression. Once again, his hand slide along your jaw as he kissed your temple. “You know I hate seeing you hurt”, he admitted against your skin before pulling back and looking at you with an apologetic gaze.

“I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you have to shut me out”, you countered, lifting your hand to stroke along his stubbled cheek.

“It doesn’t”, he contemplates. “But, I also don’t want you to see me in this state, the things going through my mind when I saw your face, I was just about ready to kill everyone in this building to find out what happened. No one hurts what’s mine”.

Your heart was thumping hard in your chest at his passionate declaration. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to push me away. I know you don’t want to see me hurt but accidents happen and if there was something wrong, you know I would call you immediately”.

Steve’s eyes softened, “Yes I know that now but, it doesn’t stop the panic that I feel when I see you’re hurt”.

Shifting even closer so that you could kiss his cheek, you continued, “I’m sorry for scaring you, it’s hard to tell you when these things happen, I don’t know whether I should call to prewarn or wait to see you in person”.

Steve’s lips lowered to yours, giving you a quick kiss to your lips, “We’ll figure it out”.

“What about Bucky?” you asked nervously.

“Buck might need a little more time, he’s still struggling to process his emotions”.

This did little to ease your anxiety, especially as the said man got into the driver's seat and didn’t say a single word to you, only glancing at you from the rearview mirror for a moment before beginning the drive to the hotel.

Steve easily managed to fill the silence with natural conversations which did little to distract you from the nerves of Bucky not talking. Even when the three of you arrived at the hotel and were shown to the penthouse where you’d be staying, Bucky didn’t say a word. After a quick tour of the breathtakingly beautiful surroundings which included a kitchen, living room area and pool that overlooked the city, you decided to go and freshen up.

After returning in a flowing dress that felt more comfortable than the jeans and shirt, you looked for the boys but only found Steve who was leaning against the kitchen island, staring at a spot in deep thought. “Steve?” this snapped him out of his trance as he instantly looked at you, standing to his full height. “Where’s Bucky?” you continued to look around but didn’t see him and by the look on Steve’s face, you knew you wouldn’t find him. “Where is he?”

“He said he needed a moment so has gone to the bar a few floors below”. Your shoulders dropped hearing this, feeling awful that he was struggling so much. “He’ll be ok sweetheart, he just has his own demons that he’s trying to fight with at the moment, you know the sort of headspace he gets into when you’re hurt”.

“I know but I haven’t seen him like this for a while, I guess I thought that side of him was over”. Sometimes when Bucky was overtly stressed with work, or needed to protect someone, particularly with regards to work, it was almost like his mind would shut down and someone else would take over. It was hard for him to deal with especially as he tended to get his emotions out violently when like this but as he hasn’t had an outlet today, he felt the need to separate himself from everyone. You knew he would never hurt you, even when he was like this so you asked Steve, “What floor is the bar on?”

Steve walked down with you and you both found him sitting on a stool in front of the bar with a very large glass of dark liquor on the bar in front of him. Steve decided to stay back and let you talk to him considering his talk earlier seemed to have done nothing to help him but reassured if you needed anything just nod.

As you walked towards Bucky, you thought about what you were going to say but your mind seemed to be completely empty of thoughts as you were so anxious you felt nauseous. Stepping next to him, he made no move to look in your direction or acknowledge your arrival and continued to stare forward. Every single muscle in his body was tense, eyes blazing with a look that you hadn’t seen in eyes like he was figuring out a way to murder everybody in the room. Your eyes flicked over his face, noting his jaw was so tense it looked like it was going to break. Unsure whether to touch him or not when he was like this, you said the only words that sprung to mind: “I miss you”.

Bucky’s entire body shifted, all of the tension seemingly melting away like a reset button had been pressed, as his eyes softened their glare as he flicked them to finally look at you. Seeing the change in him and drawing his attention, you reached across him to grip his metal hand, lifting it up to your face and reeling in the recognisable coolness of the metal against your uninjured cheek.

Turning to kiss the metal palm, you repeated, “I miss you Bucky”. There was even further relief when the pad of his thumb stroked across your cheekbone. Your boyfriend doesn't say a word, he didn’t need to as he stood from the stool, towering over you as he wrapped both of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his chest, his face nuzzling into your neck, taking a deep breath against your skin which seemed to also calm him further.

You hugged him back just as fiercely, eyes squeezing tight as you clung to the back of his shirt, probably crinkling the expensive material but neither of you cared. After a couple of minutes, he finally began to pull back enough that your arms could wind around his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him passionately, ignoring the ache in your injured cheek from the movement.

His hands clenched around your waist at the kiss until you pulled back but that was only so you could kiss his cheek repeatedly whilst whispering, “I’m so sorry I’ve scared you Bucky, everythings ok I promise but I need you to be here with me and Steve”.

Bucky didn’t say anything at first, his only response was a nod as his body continued to try and calm down from its heightened alertness. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity he said with as much passion as possible, “I’m sorry, I love you”.

“I know, it’s ok, I love you too Bucky, now let's go back upstairs and relax for the evening, ok?” he nodded his head in agreement, his hand clasped around yours as you pulled him towards Steve who smiled at the two of you.

In the elevator up to your floor, Steve turned to Bucky and placed a tender hand on the back of his head, pulling him roughly into his side, “It’ll be alright Buck”, he spoke tenderly into his ear before kissing him on the side of his head. The sight had your chest warming at the intimate show of support from the mafia leader but your thoughts didn’t dwell as the elevator dinged to indicate arrival to the penthouse.

The three of you opened a bottle of champagne and watched the sunset over the city before you decided that it was time for the pool and needed a moment to get ready. As you stood in the bathroom, you decided to continue with the plan that you’d had since you knew you were coming here. Of course, when travelling anywhere, especially somewhere this beautiful, you would want to be intimate with them both and you were hoping to take them both at the same time. So, you had decided to prep yourself a little bit with the use of your favourite butt plug and then when the three of you were ready, they could simply take it out and save the time of prepping.

It took a few minutes to work inside of you but you were happy to see the jewel gleaming from within your arse cheeks and then continued to dress into your swimsuit. You looked somewhat ridiculous with the stunning swimsuit and swollen cut to the face but it would have to do as you finally exited the bathroom.

Bucky turned to you first, hearing your footsteps as you approached the edge of the water but it was his raised eyebrow and deadpan expression that had you faltering. “What?” you asked, looking down at yourself and wondering what was out of place.

“Doll, seriously? We have our own private pool and you still think to change into a swimsuit?” Your cheeks warmed at the realisation that both Steve and Bucky were completely nude in the water and with a small smile, began to remove your own swimsuit which captivated Steve and Bucky’s attention, especially as you revealed your breasts.

As the material gathered at your waist, you turned on the spot so they were looking at your back, you bent forward to fully remove the outfit but it also gave them the perfect view of your arse with the butt plug on display.

“Fuck”, Steve cursed under his breath as he moved towards the stairs just as you began to walk over, holding out his hand for you to take and carefully descend into the water, being careful not to splash your face too much in the process. The water was the perfect warm temperature and it felt so relaxing to be almost weightless as Steve pulled you easily through the water you couldn’t reach the floor like he could, until you were near the edge, looking out over the city with Bucky on the other side of you.

The three of you huddled close together, your arms holding onto the edge of the pool, enjoying the ambience and serene moment of blissful quiet. However, Bucky couldn’t keep himself restrained for long as his hours of not seeing or touching you were beginning to get to him. Sliding behind you, his arms crowding you closer to the pool edge, his lips kissed delicately below your ear, moving south down your neck and to your shoulder. You tilted your head to the side to give him more room, releasing a soft breath at the tingling sensations his lips were causing, especially as his stubble brushed against your skin.

“You’re so beautiful”, Steve admired from beside you, his words making your cheeks flush with warmth at the compliment.

“Even with a black eye”, Bucky joked from where he was kissing the top of your back. You let out a shocked laugh, attempting to elbow him in the ribs but he easily held your arm away as he chuckled. The noise and joke were welcomed from him though to know he had calmed down enough from the initial shock of seeing you injured. “Could I make one request for tonight?” Bucky enquired, returning to kiss the pulse point on your neck.

“Yes?” you asked, already sounding a little breathless as you lazily moved your legs through the water, still holding your weight up by holding onto the edge.

“Don’t hold your noises in tonight, even though we are outside, I want this whole damn city to hear you”, Bucky grunted as he thrust his hips against your lower back, making you feel his considerably hard cock. Once again, your body warmed thoroughly at the thought of those a few floors below potentially hearing through their open windows but that also turned you on, knowing people could hear how much your boyfriends were making you feel good.

Nodding your head in answer, Bucky’s hands began to graze over your stomach under the water, stroking near your hip where you had a particularly sensitive spot that had you shivering and leaning further into him.

Steve’s hand cradled your chin, turning your face towards him where he began to kiss you desperately, his tongue immediately teasing the seam of your mouth to gain access that you granted instantly. You moaned as his warm muscle twisted with yours, loving the dominance of the kiss as he easily stood over you in the pool with his tall stature. 

Bucky’s metal fingers then began to do their own exploration as they travelled between your legs, first stroking over your pussy lips, giving you a little warning for his next movement before he pressed more firmly until he was rubbing your clit. He moved in slow circles, and your hips jerked at the action, more moans rumbling from the back of your throat and into Steve’s mouth.

The blonde man pulled back first, breathing heavily as he instructed, “What I want you to do is take Bucky and after you cum, we’re going to fuck you at the same time, understand?”

“Yes, sir”, you automatically responded, your arousal aching in your core.

“Good girl”, Bucky praised as he shifted his position but continued to play with your clit as he moved. His lower half moved further beneath you so your body was moved a little out of the water, revealing your breasts to the cool air as you balanced on his body. The tip of his cock nudged against his fingers at the apex of your thighs, and with a flick of his hips, it moved to your hole. Even though you were in the water, he still took his time, being careful to not move too quickly as he stretched your cunt. Each inch that moved in had you gasping and moaning, grabbing tightly onto Steve’s arm that shot out to support your body from toppling forward. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well, Doll”, Bucky continued to encourage you as soon his hips were flush against yours which meant that he subtly pressed against the plug in your arse which only added to the heightened pleasure.

“Feels so good Bucky”, you say, closing your eyes for a moment to try and savour the feelings but then they snapped open as Steve began to squeeze your nipples. Your back arched into the touch, loving the twists and pulls he was doing to them that sent shivers straight to your centre which only meant that you kept clenching around Bucky.

After what felt like an eternity, Bucky finally began to move, slowing his fingers at your clit to match the pace of his thrusting. Each snap of his hips would cause the plug to be pushed and even his cock within your pussy was brushing against it, you already felt so full and you only had one cock in you. The motions increased as Bucky nuzzled into the back of your neck, the water surrounding the three of you splashing over the edge.

As you got used to the position and pleasure that was being pounded throughout your body, you felt aware enough to reach into the water and grip Steve’s throbbing shaft. It floated in the water and you could feel it bob at your touch as well as Steve’s very audible gasp. He always did love it when you pleasured him so even though Bucky’s cock and fingers were very distracting, you attempted to try and also make Steve feel as good as you felt.

“Fuck, I love the feeling of your hands on me baby”, Steve grunted, thrusting into your palm as you squeezed harder, moving up and down the shaft in time with Bucky’s cock. Steve’s eyes closed, head tipping back as he fell into the pleasure, but his hands never stopped with both supporting your upper half and squeezing your breasts whilst tweaking the nipples.

Bucky moved faster now, feeling your pussy clenching harder around him, his fingers swiping back and forth in firm motions. You didn’t even need to tell him that you were going to cum, from the feeling around his cock and the sweet moans escaping your mouth, he knew you were close. He fucked you harder which meant your hand moved faster up Steve’s shaft.

“Oh-God, yes!”, you chanted, eyes closed as you squeezed Steve’s cock hard as the pleasure took over you, Bucky not stopping his thrusts as you came, extending the length of your orgasm as he continued. All until Steve quickly cursed and grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away from him did your pussy stop fluttering as you looked at him in worry. “Did I hurt you?” you asked, realising that you were probably squeezing too hard.

Steve chuckled, a light pink shade tinging his cheeks as he shook his head, “No baby, you were going to make me cum if you carried on like that”.

“Oh”, was all you managed to say as you felt proud of yourself for making him nearly cum so quickly.

Bucky laughed under his breath at your reaction, kissing the back of your head before easing his cock out and wrapping his arm around your waist so he could move you further away from the wall, giving Steve room to move in front of you. Both of your hands moved to his muscular shoulders, holding on as Steve pulled both of your legs around his waist, the waterline now at your navel.

Bucky's warm hand massaged one of your arse cheeks as he instructed, “Relax for me,  Sweetheart”. You made sure to ease all of your muscles down as he gripped onto the butt plug and began to slowly pull it out. You gasped loudly at the feeling of your hole stretching around the toy before relief as it moved past the thickest part.

Bucky dropped the plug, declaring that he’d retrieve it from the bottom of the pool later and began lining up his cock at your asshole. You mewled into Steve’s shoulder as you felt the thick tip breaching your hole, the stretch was just as intense as the other hole but he moved slower this time, making sure not to hurt you.

“You’re so tight, shit”, Bucky groaned as you took his length, his hands flexing against your hips as you tried to adjust to him. After a long moment, you nodded your head against Steve and felt him moving his hips, the tip of his cock now penetrating your cunt, slowly but from the fucking by Bucky, it didn’t take you as long to adjust.

As they both were fully inserted into your holes, you let out a desperate moan, feeling so full it was nearly overwhelming. Your thighs were shaking in Steve’s grip around his waist and you wanted to speak to tell them how good it felt but your tongue felt heavy in your mouth so you told them through moans and mewling noises.

Steve moved first, pulling out a few inches before moving back in. Then Bucky copied his action. Both of your boyfriends fucked you, their thick cocks stroking against every single nerve and with the way your legs were wide and spread to be wrapped around Steve, your clit was brushing against his abdomen.

Your head dropped back against Bucky’s shoulder and you had to refrain from hissing as you accidentally brushed the injury of your face against his stubble. However, with the overwhelming pleasure that was being fucked into you, you didn’t vocalise the momentary discomfort and simply turned your face away so it didn’t happen again.

With how much you were being stimulated, it didn’t take you long to orgasm again, your body tightening like a coil around both of their cocks as waves of pleasure pulsed through you.

Bucky let out a deep groan and that was your only warning as he came suddenly, the feeling of your tight ass around his cock was too much for him and he was already so pent up from the day that he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His balls emptied everything within them into your ass, his teeth biting into the junction between your neck and shoulder as he grunted your name over and over until there was no more cum within his body.

You shivered as he pulled out, wishing you had a camera under the water to see the cum seeping out and clouding the water slightly. Bucky’s hands moved to under your thighs, taking them out of Steve’s grip as he took your weight instead so that Steve could fuck you without any restraint.

With your eyes half-lidded, you watched as Steve leaned forward, one hand on your waist and the other on Bucky’s shoulder, using the two of you to help ground him as he continued to fuck your pussy. With the more sturdy position, he was able to fuck you as hard as he could with the water adding some restraint so that he didn’t hurt you.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little crescent-shaped dents in the skin but he enjoyed the sparks of pain that came with it. “I want you to orgasm one more time for me baby, I know you can do it”.

You shouted out in pleasure at his words, hearing the desperation in his tone so you knew he was holding back from cumming because he wanted you to do it one more time. Steve fucked you, hard and fast, water splashing everywhere as Bucky continued to hold onto you tightly.

It didn’t take you long to cum again, especially as Steve dipped his head and began to suck on each of your sensitive nipples. By the time your pussy stopped pulsing around him and you were becoming entirely too overstimulated, Steve finally shouted and stilled his thrusting, his cock throbbing with each spurt of his cum as he filled you up.

The three of you took a couple of minutes to catch your breath and stretch your muscles from being in the squished position. “At least we’re in the water, don’t have as much of a clean up”, you joked as the cum mixed with the pool water. Bucky laughed before ducking into the water and returning with your butt plug.

“For you, hot mama”, he handed over the toy and kissed your cheek before helping you over to the stairs but swiftly picked you up with a steady hand at your back and under your knees. “Please tell me you two are hungry, once we’ve finished drying up, I’m ordering some room service”.

You groaned in a different sort of need from only a few minutes ago, your arms wrapping around his neck, “yes please, I’m starving after all of this activity!”

[unholyhelbig]

More Wandanat pls 😊

Title: Are you Avoiding me?

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word Count: 2935

Warnings: pet names, sexual situations implied, broken glass, and horrible spelling (I don't proofread).

Summary: It's becoming harder and harder for reader to avoid both Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff. Things only get worse when they're cornered in their lab.

[A/n: This is just a little drabble, that's been sitting in my drafts for months, nothing with too much sustinance! I've been distracting myself lately with Wenclair content instead of writing]

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There were thousands of mugs with Shield’s logo on the side that floated around the compound, changing hands between agents and the high-ranking Avengers. It’s why you felt less bad about dropping the one in your grasp to the floor. It shattered into dozens of pieces, and the rest of the pale coffee you were drinking seeped out of the wreckage.

“Ow! Why? Why?” Clint’s voice had turned to a growl by the end of his sentence. He had righted himself and gripped his own mug to his chest, leveling you with a glare that was much too vicious this early in the morning.

The words were trapped in your throat and you dropped down behind the kitchen island, pressing yourself close enough to the wood to become apart of the grain. If you could just hide long enough for them to wander away, then all would be well.

The archer glanced down at you, and then back to the hallway that passed the communal kitchen. Natasha Romanoff had her brow furrowed, lifting a sculped eyebrow at him. She had just come back from her morning run, a fine sheen of sweat coating her muscles. He gave her a shrug and that was enough encouragement to send her on her way.

You let out a long sigh at the sound of her footsteps retreating. “Don’t look at me like that, Barton.”

“I can look at you anyway I want to, you’re the one that would rather be on the ground than talk to Natasha.”

It wasn’t just talking to Natasha. It was looking at her too; breathing the same air as her, meeting her fern-colored eyes across the room and ceasing to have a tangible thought pattern. You were an Avenger, for fucks sake, an ex-KGB spy shouldn’t make you fumble the way that you did.

“It’s not that hard, y/n. She’s harmless, really.”

That was easy for him to say. You huffed quietly and picked up the broken pieces of mug before depositing them into the trashcan. Coffee would make you too jittery anyway. So, if you really thought about it, your nerves had done you a favor.

“She’s terrifying.” You said, reaching for an empty glass. You filled it up with tap water and tentatively took a sip. It went down clunky and cold. “And gorgeous.”

“A combination that renders you absolutely useless.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Clint lifted both of his eyebrows at you, not saying a word. He didn’t have to. And you didn’t need all of this judgement from him in the first place. He had been so scared of Natasha that he couldn’t bring her in, in the first place. He would tell it differently, but you didn’t stick around to find out.

There were other things that you had to do; like a mountain of paperwork and a few modifications to the Vibranium arm that had found its way onto your desk. A cold shower wouldn’t do you any harm either. And if your fingers were to wander? No one would know.

You flashed him the middle finger, abandoning all thoughts of nourishment for the day. Tony kept his labs stocked with bottled water and granola bars after some nagging from Pepper. That would hold you over until lunch and if you started to drift, there were plenty of electrical sources that would give you a low-grade jolt.

Most of the time, you kept your head down, earbuds in even if they weren’t playing music. It was easier not to get caught up in the fanfare of the Avengers. Most of them were human, and they made human mistakes even if they weren’t.

You answered your superiors and fixed any problems that arose with tech and machinery, sometimes even costuming. Those things were simple, cut and dry. Your feelings for Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff weren’t even slightly that.

There was admiration from afar, and Clint would even say a numbness that clouded your brain completely. That celebrity that all other agents produced around any of the spandex wearing heroes often evaded you.

But each time Wanda stepped through the doors of your lab to get a personal watch fixed, or once, a VHS player that had the scent of smoke and burning plastic. She’d jutted out her lower lip when a copy of ‘I Love Lucy’ was burnt to a crisp.

Despite your meager salary, you had found one at the thrift and set it outside her door without a word. Not a romantic gesture, Clint. You should have seen her face. It was something you’d do as a friend, a co-worker.

Your shoulder collided with something strong, yet soft. There was a small grunt released from the back of your throat. You got a mouthful of the scent of rain and vanilla tobacco. But strong hands were suddenly gripping your forearms, keeping you steady.

Your eyes widened and met with curious hazel ones. You thought you gave Natasha enough time to get back to her room. But here she was, in that tight tank top, sweat drenching the collar. She looked beautiful, the lights overhead hitting her.

Agent Romanoff reached up and pulled one of your earbuds out, letting it hang loose against your chest. “Doctor y/l/n, are you avoiding me?”

“Avoiding?” You laughed with a little too much force, compensating for the lost air by snorting and instantly regretting it. A light blush fell over your cheeks. She didn’t look mad, in fact, she looked quite amused. “No, no. I’m not avoiding.”

“So, what would you call ducking down behind the counter in the kitchen?”

“How did you…”

“I’m a superspy and you’re not exactly subtle.”

Yeah. You’d forgotten about that. She didn’t’ allude to the fact, simply continuing on her way and leaving you to your horrible conversation with Clint. But then she had waited in front of your lab, her own clearance not allowing her past the sliding doors without you in it.

She lilted her head to the side “Don’t worry about it, it’s actually rather adorable.”

The heat against your cheeks started to spread down your neck and to your collarbone. If she noticed, and of course she noticed, she didn’t’ say anything. But she released her hold, and you fought back a whimper of disappointment.

“What can I do for you, Agent Romanoff?”

“Us, actually.” She responded, eyes darting towards the locked doors. “I’d rather talk somewhere a bit more private, if that’s alright.”

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely that’s alight. If this is about the Widow Bites that I redesigned then I can most definitely tweak them. We don’t want you to get a jolt every time you use them. Not that I’m saying you’re not skilled enough to avoid that,”

You kept talking as you swiped your card and it with a beep, walking into the instant familiarity of your lab. There was a coolness there for tactical purposes, but it washed over your heated skin and hopefully took some of the soft color away.

You started to flit around the lab, flicking on all the lights and the different purifiers. There was an experiment that Fitz was working on that needed a rotating heat source and that was turned on as well.

“If we remove the outer panel and with a little tweaking, we can make them non-lethal, heavy with stopping power. They can break up under the sub-cutaneous tissue-“

Again, you ran into Natasha. Her body was so warm and solid, stable compared to the way you buzzed about. The door had slid shut behind you, its frosted glass exterior shielding you from the rest of the world.

This time you didn’t’ rush to apologize, instead you pushed your glasses up to the center of your nose and stared at her in a comfortable silence. “This wasn’t about your widow bites. You said us.”

She nodded at you, suddenly seeming quite shy herself. You’d never seen her avert her gaze before and something about the reaction worried you. Your stomach was doing somersaults, flipping back and forth between pure panic and excitement. This was the longest you two had spent in one another’s space without you bolting from the room.

“For the past six months I’ve been involved in a sexual relationship with Wanda Maximoff.”

“Uh,”

It was the only word that you could muster. Thoughts that flushed your cheeks all over again ran through your mind; bare breasts pressed against each other, lips hungrily clashing, hands raking up perfectly toned muscles. Your eyes were hazy with lust, but you blinked it away just as fast as it had settled. Natasha ghosted a smirk regardless.

“It was purely sexual, we both needed to blow off some steam. I’m sure you know how that is.”

On nights when you needed to ‘blow off steam’, you went into the empty training room and ran for six miles before taking a stark cold shower to loosen your muscles. When you ran, you forgot about the dip of Natasha’s collarbone and the dexterity of Wanda’s fingers.

Now that you thought about it, there were signs that the two of them had something and why shouldn’t they? Subtle touches that led to more. The tenderness in Natasha’s eyes betrayed more. If she hadn’t noticed yet, you weren’t going to be the one to tell her.

“It was fun for a while, a supply closet here, the gym floor there. But going on month seven it’s almost losing its… spark.”

“I’m sorry?” You were cautious with your words, and she giggled, the Black Widow herself was giggling at you.

“I’m not so good at this.”

“You’re good at everything.”

She smiled “Wanda insisted that I come and talk to you first because you’re skittish. Moreso around her than me. She was upset when I told her you let me stay the afternoon in here last week, just watching you work.” 

Each move you made that day was languid. There was a nervousness to you that seemed to vanish when you could open up the back of a monitor and stare at the innerworkings. You were recruited right out of MIT, and though you had been offered more than one job, you jumped at the idea of working in the Stark tower, living here.

She worked her hand through her hair and sighed “see, not so good at this.”

“What exactly is this?”

Natasha furrowed her brow and a small crease formed between her eyebrows in response. You wanted to reach up and smooth it away with the subtle touch of your thumb. That part wasn’t complicated, not like people usually were.

So, you did just that, you touched the pad of your finger to her soft, warm skin and pressed until the tension started to leave her body. Natasha’s fingers wrapped around your wrist and moved your hand until you cupped her cheek. She sighed into the embrace; eyes closed for more than a single moment.

“I want you, y/n.” She mumbled against the palm of your hand, turning it to the side and delivering a single kiss to the pulse point on your wrist. You were sure that she could feel the quickness in which it thrummed. “So does Wanda.”

You were dizzy, suddenly glad for her hold on you. Months, close to a year, you had spent ducking behind counters and taking the long way back to your dorm. They were both stunning to an intimidating degree, to the point where it devastated you.

“Say something, please” Natasha whispered, voice breaking “I know this is a lot and you can absolutely decline. We can forget this conversation ever happened and you can go back to breaking coffee mugs.”

“No! I mean, no. I don’t want to go back to breaking coffee mugs. I think Clint is running a tab, and Mr. Stark isn’t exactly generous with our salaries.”

A grin spread across Natasha’s face. It was like being wrapped in a warm towel after a long day in the rain. You’d do anything to make her smile. You were in down bad, not that you’d admit it to Bird Boy.

She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded, not trusting your ability to vocalize anything right now. Her lips were on yours, soft and tender. She kissed you slowly, with purpose. The two of you savored the moment, a sigh of extasy escaping you, your arms winding around her shoulders, hers pressing against your spine.

Natasha broke the embrace, staring hazily at you. That cocky smile had turned into a wonderstruck and borderline goofy one. Have you broken the superspy? She’d certainly made you waver. You were effectively rendered silent.

“Oh, sweet girl, how easy it is to fluster you.” Natasha pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “But I fear that a certain witch is lurking just close enough for you to open the door.”

It slid open on its own with a dejected beep. You glanced down at the pocket of your lab coat, badge still attached. A small pout made its way to your lips but softened when Wanda stalked into the mostly empty lab, you felt your defenses lower.

The remnants of red twirled around her fingers- and god, you didn’t mean to stare, but they held a power to them. With Natasha slotted against your body, the primal scent of her, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering. Oh, how good they’d feel on your tongue.

A pink blush crept up her collarbone and at the tips of her ears. Wanda raised a perfectly sculpted brow at you. There was no doubt in your mind that your thoughts were loud enough for her to hear them. And somehow, you didn’t mind one bit. You’d never imagine being this bold with either of them, but the kiss with Natasha had left you heady, greedy for more.

“Have you been able to do that the whole time?” You panted out, watching the door slide shut once more.

“Well, yes. But I respect your privacy… to an extent. You have quite the dirty mind, don’t you?”

“I… you… no!”

You pulled away from Natasha, crossing your arms over your chest. If you weren’t careful, your glasses would fog up just by being in the same vicinity as them both. Sure, there had been a few times where you’d let your mind wander; images of Wanda shoving you against the wall, pinning your arms above your head.

Natasha taking you over the lab table that you made sure was meticulous in every single way each night before you left. The thought of them taking control was alluring, tantalizing. You thought all the time, too much about every move you made. You didn’t want to admit that you’d welcome not thinking at all, even if it was only for a few moments.

“You’re a terrible liar.” Wanda soothed.

“That’s why Stark keeps me in the basement.”

She’d gotten impossibly close. You could smell the lavender shampoo that often accompanied her. They were both taller than you, though, not by much. Your breath still hitched in your throat at her proximity. Wanda tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, lilting her head to the side in a way that made your knees feel unstable.

“Is this okay?”

You nodded, and a smile moved across her lips. “You need to use your words, sweetheart.”

“Oh, don’t be mean, Wanda.” Natasha wrapped her arms around your midsection, resting her chin against your shoulder. You felt the incredible warmth she provided, nearly sighing into it. “This is a lot to take in. Baby steps.”

You couldn’t tell which of the two held more control over the situation, but didn’t much care when you felt Wanda’s breath hot against your lips. She closed the distance and you kissed until it stung, until your lungs were begging for air. A desperate noise that you had never made before escaped you when she broke the embrace.

All the while, the calloused pads of Natasha’s fingers were running softly over the expanse of skin between your waistband and shirt. Her touch was so delicate and impossibly warm compared to the coolness of the lab.

Natasha hugged you closer, and you allowed her to. Everything about both women surrounding you screamed control. The darkness that settled over Wanda’s stare made a wetness pool between your thighs. You squeezed them together in an attempt of subtly.

It was like fooling a seer. They could read your body like an open book and you clenched your eyes shut but could still feel the grin that stretched across Natasha’s face in the crook of your neck. It would be so easy to give up control to them.

“Does anyone else have the key to your lab?” Wanda purred, her hand splayed on your chest in a startling grounding motion. Your eyes snapped open, hazy with lust.

You were breathless, stunned. “Just you.”

Wanda’s head tilted, her tongue darting out against her bottom lip. Chills pushed down your spine, Natasha’s hold tightening around your center. You were sure that you’d catch flame right there and wake up from this dream. But neither of them vanished when you blinked.

“Good. What’s your safe word, darling?”

Natasha’s grin was nothing short of wolfish. She squeezed both of your hips possessively, hauling you with a spy’s quickness onto the nearest counter. You nudged a white mug with a SHIELD logo on the front. It fell to the floor, shattered into a million different pieces.

 None of that seemed to matter.

[urdreamydoodles]

MCU Characters x Fem!Reader (Part.1)

They react to your outfit for your date with them (Part.1)

As you step out for a much-anticipated date night, your partner reacts with their unique blend of admiration and protectiveness, captivated by your stunning appearance.

Characters: Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Stephen Strange, Clint Barton, Peter Parker, Thor, Loki & T'Challa

Tony Stark (Iron Man)

- Tony's eyes widen the moment you step into the room, his witty remark momentarily caught in his throat. For once, he's speechless. It's a rare sight to see him without his usual smirk, and you can't help but grin at his reaction. "Wow... just wow," he finally manages, his gaze scanning you from head to toe. He's used to being the one to impress, but tonight, you're stealing all the attention, and he loves every second of it.

- As you twirl in front of him, the soft fabric of your dress catching the light, Tony steps closer, adjusting the cufflinks on his suit as if trying to match your perfection. "You know, I always knew you were out of my league," he quips, though there's a sincere awe behind his words. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough that you can feel the warmth of his body through the tailored suit.

- "How am I supposed to focus on dinner when I have this sitting across from me?" he teases, his voice lowering to that playful, flirty tone that makes your heart skip. His fingers trace lightly along your back, the intimate touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Maybe we should skip the reservation altogether," Tony suggests with a grin that tells you he's only half-joking.

- Despite his playful nature, there's a tenderness in the way he looks at you, his usual bravado replaced by something softer. Tony Stark, the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist, is totally smitten. "Let’s make this night one for the books, shall we?" he says, offering his arm with a rare sincerity that makes you feel like the only person in his universe.

Bucky Barnes (The Winter Soldier)

- Bucky’s not the type to show his emotions easily, but the way his jaw tightens when he sees you walk into the room speaks volumes. His blue eyes darken, tracking every movement as if he’s committing the sight of you to memory. "You look..." His voice trails off, and for a moment, he just stares, like he’s trying to find the right words but can’t. When he finally speaks, it’s almost shy. "...Incredible."

- He shifts awkwardly in his spot, his metal arm twitching slightly, a nervous habit he’s never quite shaken. Despite his quiet demeanor, there’s something fierce in the way he looks at you, like he’s still in disbelief that someone like you could be with someone like him. "I should’ve worn something nicer," he mutters, glancing down at his black jacket. You quickly reassure him with a smile, and he exhales, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit.

- As the two of you prepare to leave, Bucky steps closer, his hand hesitantly brushing your arm before resting on your waist. His touch is gentle, but you can feel the strength behind it, the contrast between his flesh hand and the cold metal one. He leans in, his voice soft, "You make it real hard to focus on anything but you."

- He may not be as smooth with words as some, but the way Bucky looks at you says everything he struggles to express. You catch the small, rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips—one that’s just for you. He holds the door open, his protective instinct kicking in even though this is supposed to be a simple night out. But you know, with Bucky, every moment feels like it's filled with unspoken emotions, deep and unbreakable.

Steve Rogers (Captain America)

- Steve’s eyes light up the second you enter the room, his usual composed, all-American charm faltering just a little as he takes in your appearance. "Wow," he breathes, his voice soft but filled with admiration. He steps toward you, ever the gentleman, offering a hand to help you down the last few steps, even though you don’t really need it. "You look stunning," he says, his smile warm and genuine, the kind that makes your heart flutter every time.

- There’s an innocence to the way Steve reacts—like he’s seeing something truly beautiful for the first time, even though you’ve been together for a while. He straightens his jacket, a small flush creeping up his neck as if he’s the one trying to impress you, not the other way around. "I feel like I should’ve dressed up more," he jokes lightly, though his eyes don’t leave yours for a second.

- As he wraps an arm around your waist, you can feel the strength in his hold, reassuring and gentle all at once. Steve leans down to place a soft kiss on your temple, his breath warm against your skin. "I’m the luckiest guy in the world," he murmurs, his voice sincere in a way that only Steve Rogers can manage. He never takes you for granted—not for a second.

- Throughout the night, Steve can’t seem to stop glancing at you, as though he still can’t believe he gets to call you his. Even when he pulls out your chair at the restaurant or holds your hand during the walk back, there’s a quiet reverence in everything he does. "You deserve the best," he tells you, his blue eyes shining with love and respect. And you know, with Steve, he’ll always mean it.

Sam Wilson (Falcon/Captain America)

- The second Sam sees you, a wide grin spreads across his face, his usual playful confidence shining through. "Okay, hold up," he says, his voice filled with admiration as he gives you a once-over. "I didn’t think it was possible, but you just raised the bar." His gaze is warm, appreciative, and you can’t help but laugh as he walks over, his swagger evident in every step.

- "You trying to make me look bad?" Sam teases, though you can tell by the way he’s looking at you that he’s completely smitten. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your arm before pulling you in for a quick spin. "Damn, you look good. Like, really good." There’s no holding back with Sam—he’s always been the type to say exactly what’s on his mind, and right now, all he’s thinking about is how incredible you look.

- As you walk together to the car, Sam keeps sneaking glances at you, his smile never fading. He opens the door for you with a dramatic flourish, ever the showman. "You sure we’re going to the right place? ‘Cause I feel like I should be taking you to the red carpet or something," he quips, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

- During the date, Sam is the perfect mix of fun and affectionate, cracking jokes to make you laugh while also finding moments to be sweet. At one point, he leans in close, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. "I know I joke around a lot, but... I’m really lucky to have you. You know that, right?" The sincerity in his words catches you off guard, but it’s moments like these that remind you why you fell for him in the first place. Sam Wilson may be all charm and wit, but when it comes to you, his heart is all in.

Stephen Strange (Doctor Strange)

- Stephen’s reaction is subtle but telling. His sharp eyes flick over to you the moment you enter the Sanctum, widening slightly as they trail down the length of your figure. He doesn’t speak right away, and you know you’ve caught him off guard—which, for someone like Stephen Strange, is no small feat. "You certainly know how to make an entrance," he says at last, his voice smooth, but there’s a softness in it that surprises you.

- He steps closer, his robes shifting gracefully as he reaches out, fingers lightly grazing your arm. "You look... otherworldly," he remarks, his usual confidence tempered with a kind of reverence, like he’s seeing something magical—something he didn’t conjure himself. Stephen has seen countless dimensions and mystical beings, but there’s something in the way he’s looking at you now that feels entirely human. His fingers linger, tracing the fabric of your dress, as if he's studying every detail with the same intensity he reserves for spells.

- "We might not need a portal tonight," he quips, a rare hint of humor in his voice, "because I’m not sure I want anyone else in this universe to see you like this." It’s half a joke, but there’s a protective edge beneath his words. For a moment, the Sorcerer Supreme isn’t thinking about the mystical realms or ancient threats—he’s just a man in awe of the person standing before him.

- Throughout the night, you catch him stealing glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking. There’s something grounded about Stephen tonight, a rare vulnerability. And when he slips his hand into yours as you walk through the city, it’s without pretense—just pure, quiet affection from a man who’s seen everything and still thinks you’re the most stunning thing in existence.

Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

- Clint’s eyes light up the moment he sees you. "Whoa, wait a second," he says, his voice filled with playful surprise as he looks you up and down, a grin spreading across his face. "Am I supposed to be your date tonight? Or is there some movie star hiding around here?" Clint’s always been quick with a joke, but the admiration in his eyes is genuine, and the way his voice softens just a bit tells you he’s impressed.

- He walks over to you with that easy, casual stride, hands finding their way to your waist as he pulls you in for a hug, his lips brushing against your forehead. "You clean up pretty nice," he teases, though there’s a hint of awe in his tone. Clint is used to seeing you in casual clothes or even combat gear, but tonight is different, and he’s not hiding how much he loves it.

- "Now I’m really feeling underdressed," he jokes, glancing down at his outfit, which, while nice, doesn’t quite match the level of your look tonight. He’s got that laid-back charm, but you know Clint well enough to see the little flicker of self-consciousness in his eyes, even if he hides it behind a grin. You reassure him with a smile, and he relaxes, pulling you closer as if you’re the only two people in the world.

- Clint might not make a big deal of it, but throughout the night, he can’t stop complimenting you. Whether it’s a casual “You’re killing it tonight” or a more heartfelt “I’m the luckiest guy around,” his words, though simple, are full of sincerity. He loves that you don’t need all the bells and whistles to shine, but tonight, you’ve got them, and he’s soaking up every second.

Peter Parker (Spider-Man)

- Peter’s jaw literally drops when he sees you, his wide eyes blinking in disbelief as he stumbles over his words. "Oh my gosh... wow... you—wow," he stammers, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks flush red. It’s adorable, watching him try and piece together a coherent sentence. "You look amazing," he finally blurts out, still staring at you like he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.

- He’s awkward at first, nervously adjusting his tie and shifting from foot to foot, clearly trying to play it cool but failing miserably. "I—I mean, I knew you’d look great, but this? You’ve seriously outdone yourself," Peter says, and you can’t help but smile at how genuine he is. His hands hover awkwardly before he finally takes yours, squeezing them gently as he continues to fumble through his awe.

- "I’m gonna be the luckiest guy at the restaurant," he says with a grin, though you can tell he’s only half-joking. Peter’s not used to this kind of attention, and seeing you all dressed up for him has completely flustered him in the sweetest way possible. "Do I look okay?" he asks, glancing down at his suit and then back at you with a sheepish smile, clearly hoping he’s at least halfway as presentable as you are.

- Throughout the night, Peter can’t stop complimenting you, whether it’s nervously gushing over how amazing you look or cracking jokes to hide his nerves. "I don’t even know what to do with my hands," he jokes, trying to play it cool. But the way he looks at you—like you’re the most incredible person in the world—tells you everything you need to know about how much this night means to him.

Thor (God of Thunder)

- Thor’s reaction is immediate and dramatic, his booming voice filling the room the second he sees you. "By Odin’s beard, you are a vision!" he exclaims, his eyes lighting up with pure admiration. There’s nothing subtle about Thor, and his excitement at seeing you dressed up is no exception. He strides toward you with that confident, larger-than-life energy, sweeping you into a hug that lifts you off your feet for a moment.

- "This is truly a grand occasion," he declares, his deep voice rumbling with pride as he looks you over with a beaming smile. Thor isn’t shy about showing his admiration, and he’s clearly thrilled to see you looking so incredible. "You shine brighter than the stars themselves tonight," he adds, his compliments as grand and poetic as ever. His eyes sparkle with warmth, and there’s something almost boyish in the way he can’t stop looking at you.

- Thor, ever the gentleman, offers his arm with a gallant flourish, bowing slightly as if you were royalty. "Shall we make our grand entrance together?" he asks with a grin, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief. There’s an infectious energy about him tonight, and you can tell he’s as excited for the evening as he is to be seen with you by his side.

- Throughout the night, Thor treats you like an absolute queen, making sure you’re comfortable and constantly reminding you of how magnificent you look. "It is an honor to stand beside someone as radiant as you," he says at one point, his voice soft and sincere. His hand never leaves yours, and with Thor, every moment feels like a celebration. He makes you feel as if the entire night revolves around you—because in his eyes, it does.

Loki (God of Mischief)

- When Loki first sees you, his reaction is subtle yet intense, his green eyes darkening as he takes you in. "Well, well," he murmurs, a sly smile playing on his lips. He doesn’t rush toward you like others might—instead, he lets his gaze linger, the look in his eyes making you feel like you’re the most captivating thing he’s ever seen. "You’ve truly outdone yourself," he says, his voice smooth as silk, full of admiration and a hint of possessiveness.

- He slowly circles around you, his fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of your dress as he takes in every detail. "I always knew you were stunning," Loki purrs, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone, "but tonight, you've left even the gods speechless." He steps closer, his hand sliding to your waist, the coolness of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His smirk widens as he feels your reaction, his teasing nature coming out in full force.

- "Shall we make all the realms jealous tonight?" he asks with a raised brow, his voice full of mischief. Loki’s always loved making an entrance, but tonight, it’s clear that he’s more focused on the fact that he has you by his side. "I daresay none will be able to take their eyes off you," he whispers, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks, making your heart race.

- Throughout the night, Loki is his usual charming, mischievous self, constantly finding ways to draw you closer—whether it’s with a flirty comment or a teasing touch. Yet, behind the playful banter, there’s something deeper in the way he looks at you, as if you’re the only person in the room who truly matters. And when he pulls you in for a slow, deliberate kiss at the end of the evening, it’s clear that he’s as captivated by you as you are by him.

T’Challa (Black Panther)

- T’Challa’s reaction is a perfect blend of admiration and quiet awe. When you enter the room, his deep brown eyes immediately lock onto you, his usually composed expression softening. "My love," he says, his voice rich and smooth, as he approaches you with a regal grace. There’s a moment of silence as he takes you in, his gaze warm but intense, as though he’s seeing you for the first time. "You look... breathtaking," he finally says, his voice full of genuine respect and adoration.

- T’Challa steps closer, his hand gently reaching for yours, lifting it to his lips to place a soft kiss on your knuckles. "You honor me with your beauty tonight," he murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours. His words are always deliberate, full of meaning, and the way he looks at you now makes it clear that he’s beyond proud to be seen with you by his side. His admiration isn’t just for your appearance—it’s for you as a whole.

- As King of Wakanda, T’Challa has attended countless events and diplomatic gatherings, but tonight, he seems more focused on you than anything else. "It is a privilege to be with you," he says softly, his hand resting on the small of your back as he guides you through the evening with his usual poise. Even in a crowd, his attention never wavers, and you feel like the center of his world.

- Throughout the night, T’Challa is the perfect gentleman, always attentive, always respectful. His hand remains intertwined with yours, and every now and then, he’ll lean in close to whisper something in your ear—small, private compliments meant only for you. "You are more beautiful than any star in the sky," he says quietly, his voice full of quiet reverence. And when the night comes to an end, T’Challa takes a moment to stand with you under the stars, pulling you into a tender embrace as if he never wants to let you go.

[natsaffection]

Please can we have something with top!reader please?

Reversed. | N.R

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!, Oral (n receiving) fingering (n receiving) begging, edging multiple orgasm.

Word count: 4,8k

A/n: Actually found this in my notes..

You found yourself in a circle with other agents and Avengers, the excitement in the air amplifying as the night progressed. The game of Truth or Dare was in full swing, and when it was your turn, all eyes fell on you. "Y/n.." Clint Barton grinned mischievously, "I dare you to seduce Natasha."

The group erupted into a chorus of whoops and cheers, their eyes darting between you and the redhead seated across the room. You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you accepted the challenge with a nod. It wasn’t the dare that was the challenge. It was Natasha herself. The Black Widow was an enigma, her emotions as guarded as her past, and yet you felt a thrill at the idea of unraveling that mystery, even if just for a night. You stood, smoothing the fabric of your dress, and made your way toward the bar where Natasha sat. Each step was calculated, purposeful, as you approached the formidable assassin. Natasha didn’t look up as you neared, but you knew she was already aware of your presence. It was in the way Natasha’s posture shifted ever so slightly, her body attuned to the movements around her.

"Mind if I join you?" you asked, your voice low and smooth. Natasha’s eyes flicked up, meeting yours with an intensity that could stop a lesser person in their tracks. She studied you for a moment before nodding, a ghost of a smirk playing on her lips. "Be my guest." You slid onto the barstool beside Natasha, signaling the bartender for a drink. The silence between you was thick, not with discomfort, but with the weight of unspoken words and mutual intrigue.

"I hear you’ve got quite a reputation, Y/n." Natasha said, finally breaking the silence. Her voice was calm, measured, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity. "I could say the same about you." you replied, your tone equally measured, though with a hint of playfulness. "But I’m not interested in what everyone else says. I prefer to form my own opinions." Natasha chuckled softly, taking a sip of her drink. "And what opinion are you forming now?"

You leaned in slightly, your eyes never leaving Natasha’s. "That you’re even more intriguing up close." Natasha’s eyes flashed with amusement, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she tilted her head, studying you with a new intensity. "And what is it you’re hoping to find, Agent Y/l/n?"

"Maybe I’m hoping to find out if the Black Widow is as untouchable as everyone says." you replied, your voice dropping to a near whisper, an edge of challenge lacing your words. Natasha set her glass down, turning in her seat to face you fully. The air between you crackled with electricity, a tension that was palpable and undeniable. "You might find that some things are better left untouched." You smiled, a slow, confident curve of your lips. "Maybe, but I’ve never been one to shy away from a challenge."

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you, locked in a battle of wills and desire. Natasha’s gaze softened, just a fraction, as she considered your words. Then, she leaned in, her lips brushing lightly against your ear as she spoke. "Careful what you wish for." Natasha whispered, her voice sending a shiver down your spine. "You just might get it."

With that, Natasha pulled back, her smirk widening as she took in the subtle flush on your cheeks. Your heart raced, but you kept your composure, matching Natasha’s smirk with one of your own. "That’s what I’m counting on." you replied.

When you and Natasha finally stood from the bar, walking together toward the private rooms that lined the edge of Stark Tower’s upper floors, a knowing grin spread across Tony’s face. He nudged Clint with an elbow. "Looks like you might be losing this one, Barton." Clint groaned but couldn't suppress his smirk. "Never thought I'd see the day someone could match Natasha like that." The team exchanged glances, some amused, others a little concerned. But they all knew that whatever was about to happen, it was going to be explosive.

You and Natasha slipped into one of the private rooms, the door closing softly behind you as the sound of the party faded into the distance. The room was luxurious, dimly lit with plush furniture and a large bed dominating the space. But it was the air between you both that was thickest of all, humming with anticipation. Natasha turned to face you, her eyes dark with intent. She took a slow step forward, her movements deliberate and predatory, like a panther stalking its prey. You felt your breath catch, but you weren’t about to back down. Not when the game was just getting interesting.

"I’m impressed." Natasha said, her voice low and sultry. She reached out, trailing a finger down your arm, sending shivers through your body. "But I think it’s time you realized who you’re dealing with." There was a challenge in her words, one that you weren’t about to ignore. Natasha was the Black Widow, used to being in control, to being the one who dictated how things went. But you had your own reputation, and you weren’t about to let Natasha take the lead so easily.

You took a step closer, closing the distance. You reached up, cupping Natasha’s face with one hand, your thumb brushing over the assassin’s bottom lip. "Oh, I know exactly who I’m dealing with." you whispered, "But maybe you should see that I’m not the type to be dominated so easily." Natasha’s eyes flashed with a mixture of surprise and intrigue. She wasn’t used to being challenged in this way, and you could see the gears turning in her mind. But before Natasha could make a move, you pressed forward, your bodies nearly touching, your hand slipping around to the back of Natasha’s neck, pulling her in close.

"I know you like control, Romanoff." you whispered against Natasha’s ear, "But tonight, you’re going to let go of that. I’m not here to play by your rules, Natasha."

For a moment, Natasha hesitated, her body stiffening as she processed your words. She was torn between her instinct to dominate and the strange, electrifying thrill of someone standing up to her in this way. You felt the tension in Natasha’s body and leaned in, your lips brushing against Natasha’s in a feather-light touch that was more of a tease than a kiss. The touch seemed to spark something in Natasha, something raw and primal. But instead of trying to regain control, she found herself curious, curious about what it would feel like to let someone else take the reins, if only for a moment. Her lips parted slightly, and you took that as your cue.

With a firm but gentle hand, you pushed Natasha back against the wall, pinning her there with your body. Natasha’s breath hitched, a flicker of surprise and something else..something akin to excitement passing through her eyes. "You might be the Black Widow.." you murmured, your lips grazing the sensitive skin of Natasha’s neck, "but right now, you’re mine."

Natasha let out a shaky breath, her hands instinctively moving to grasp your hips, pulling you closer. But you weren’t about to let Natasha dictate the pace. You moved your hands, pinning Natasha’s wrists against the wall, holding them there with a strength that belied your appearance. "You wanted to see what I’m capable of," you continued, your voice a husky whisper that sent shivers down Natasha’s spine. "so let me show you."

Natasha’s eyes darkened with a mix of emotions, lust, curiosity, and a grudging respect. You weren’t like anyone she’d ever encountered before, and that was enough to make her relinquish control, if only for a little while. With a slow, deliberate motion, you captured Natasha’s lips in a searing kiss, one that was more of a claim than anything else. Natasha responded with equal passion, but there was no mistaking that, in this moment, you were in charge. You deepened the kiss, your hands roaming over Natasha’s body, touching, teasing, and exploring with a confidence that left Natasha breathless.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, the air between you thick with the promise of what was to come. Your gaze was steady, your control unshakable, as you looked into Natasha’s eyes. "Tonight, I’m in control." you whispered, "And you’re going to love every second of it." Your gaze bore into Natasha, a smirk playing on your lips as you reveled in the fact that you had one of the most dangerous women in the world at your mercy. Without warning, your hands moved with surprising strength and precision, pushing Natasha back until she was forced to her knees on the plush carpeted floor.

Natasha's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise and defiance crossing her face. "You-" she started, her voice carrying that edge of command she was so accustomed to wielding. But you weren’t having it. You silenced Natasha with a firm hand on her shoulder, leaning down to whisper in her ear, your voice low and laced with authority. "I told you, Natasha. Tonight, you’re mine. You’re going to do exactly what I say."

Natasha’s heart pounded in her chest. This was unfamiliar territory for her, being on her knees, looking up at someone with power over her. Her instincts screamed at her to regain control, to flip the situation and take charge, but there was something intoxicating about the way you commanded her, leaving no room for negotiation. Your hand slid into Natasha’s hair, tugging lightly, forcing the assassin to look up at you. The dominance in your eyes was unmistakable, a sharp contrast to the playfulness that had marked your earlier exchanges. "Now, Natasha," you murmured, your tone soft but firm, "I want you to eat me out."

She tensed, her muscles coiled, ready to flip the script and take back control. But you sensed the shift, and with a quick, forceful tug on Natasha’s hair, you brought the redhead’s attention back to you. "Don’t even think about it." you warned, your voice a growl that sent a shiver down Natasha’s spine. "You’re going to stay right there, on your knees, and do exactly what I tell you. You wanted to see if you could handle me, didn’t you?"

You watched the battle play out in Natasha’s eyes, a knowing smile curving your lips. "Good girl." you purred, your voice soothing, as if coaxing a wild animal to submit. You released your grip on Natasha’s hair, sliding your hands down to cup Natasha’s face. "Now, do as you’re told." Natasha hesitated for a fraction of a second, her pride flaring one last time. But there was something in your touch, in the way you exerted control with such confidence and precision, that made Natasha’s resolve falter. Slowly, she leaned forward, her hands gripping your thighs for support as she obeyed the command she had been given.

You let out a soft sigh of satisfaction as Natasha’s lips pressed against your inner thigh, moving closer to where you wanted her most. The feeling of Natasha at your mercy, doing exactly as you commanded, was intoxicating. Your hand found its way back into Natasha’s hair, guiding her with a gentle but firm touch. But just as Natasha was about to take things further, you suddenly tightened your grip, pulling Natasha back slightly, just enough to remind her who was in control. "Not so fast." you whispered, your voice teasing, as if savoring the moment. "You’ll go at my pace, Natasha."

A frustrated growl escaped Natasha’s lips, but she complied, her body betraying her desire as she leaned in again, slower this time, more deliberate. Your breath hitched as Natasha began, her touch both skilled and tentative, as if testing the limits of her submission. You arched your back slightly, your grip tightening in Natasha’s hair as the pleasure began to build. "That’s it," you murmured, your voice breathy, "just like that.."

Natasha’s pride still burned, but it was smothered by the heat of the moment, by the way you commanded her with such skill, reducing her to a vessel of pleasure. Natasha's instincts told her to take back control, but each time she thought about it, you would tighten your grip or whisper something that sent a thrill through her, reminding her exactly who was in charge. You reveled in the power you held, knowing that you had reduced the Black Widow to this..on her knees, fully compliant, her every move dictated by your will. And as the pleasure mounted, you knew there was no going back from this. You had won, and Natasha knew it too.

Your control never wavered, not even as you felt the crescendo building within you. Natasha’s skilled tongue and lips worked wonders, but it was your dominance, your control over the situation, that pushed you over the edge. As the waves of pleasure crashed over you, your grip on Natasha’s hair tightened one last time, holding her in place, forcing her to continue until you were completely spent. Only then did you release her, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you looked down at her.

Natasha pulled back slightly, her lips swollen, her breathing just as heavy. She looked up at you with a mixture of satisfaction and submission, her pride wounded but not broken. There was a new understanding between you, a bond forged in the heat of your encounter. You smirked, brushing a thumb over Natasha’s lips, which were still glistening with your essence. "I told you," you said, your voice a soft purr, "I’m not like the others. You’re not the only one who knows how to take control."

You stepped back slightly, taking in the sight of Natasha, her usually composed and powerful demeanor now slightly frayed at the edges. But even now, there was a resistance in Natasha, a stubborn refusal to fully submit. You could see it in the way Natasha held herself, in the tight line of her jaw, and in the steely resolve in her eyes. But you were determined to break through that last barrier. You wanted to hear Natasha, to feel the powerful assassin surrender completely, not just physically, but emotionally. You wanted to push Natasha to the edge, to the point where she had no choice but to beg.

You reached down, taking Natasha’s chin in your hand, tilting her head up so your eyes met. "You’re strong, Natasha.." you murmured, your voice low and filled with a dark promise. "But even you have limits. I’m going to find them." Natasha’s breath caught, her eyes narrowing as she stared up at you. She wasn’t about to back down, not even now, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her gaze. You smiled, a slow, predatory grin, before you leaned down, capturing Natasha’s lips in a fierce, possessive kiss.

As you pulled Natasha to her feet, your bodies pressed together, you felt the tension in Natasha’s muscles, the way she held herself taut, as if bracing for what was to come. You wasted no time, your hands moving with practiced ease as you led Natasha toward the large bed in the center of the room. Natasha followed, her movements reluctant but inevitable, like a moth drawn to a flame.

When you reached the bed, you spun Natasha around, pushing her down onto the soft mattress with a force that left no room for protest. Natasha landed on her back, her hair splayed out around her like a fiery halo, her breath coming in shallow gasps. You climbed on top of her, pinning Natasha’s wrists above her head with one hand, while the other trailed down her body, tracing the curve of her waist. "You can fight all you want," you whispered, your voice a dark, seductive murmur in Natasha’s ear, "but we both know how this ends. You’re going to beg for me, whether you want to or not."

Natasha’s eyes flashed with defiance, her lips parting as if to argue, but you silenced her with a searing kiss, one that left no room for resistance. Your hand slipped between Natasha’s thighs, your fingers finding the wetness there, and Natasha gasped, her body betraying her with its response. You smirked against Natasha’s lips, your fingers moving with deliberate slowness, teasing but never quite giving Natasha what she craved. You could feel the tension building in Natasha’s body, the way her hips subtly bucked, trying to get more, trying to take back some control.

But you weren’t going to let her. You wanted Natasha to break, to give in completely. "Comon, Natasha.." you murmured, your lips brushing against Natasha’s ear as you spoke. "Stop fighting it. You know you want this. You know you want me." Natasha groaned, her head tossing back against the pillows, but she still didn’t give you what you wanted.

"I..won't..!" You could feel the struggle within her..the battle between pride and desire, between control and submission. And you were determined to make sure desire won out. You increased the pressure, your fingers moving faster, more insistently, driving Natasha closer and closer to the edge. Natasha’s breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling beneath your relentless touch. You could feel how close she was, how much Natasha was holding back, and it only spurred you on.

"Don’t hold back." you commanded, your voice sharp and authoritative. "I want to hear you, Natasha. I want to hear you beg." Natasha’s eyes squeezed shut, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as if to keep herself silent. But you weren’t about to let that happen. You slowed your movements, your fingers stilling just enough to keep Natasha on the edge without letting her fall over it. "Say it." you whispered, your voice a tantalizing caress. "Beg me, Natasha."

Natasha’s breath hitched, her body quivering with the need to release, but still, she held on, her pride refusing to let her give in. You admired her strength, but you also knew it was only a matter of time. You leaned down, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin of Natasha’s neck, your teeth grazing lightly. "Beg me." you repeated, your voice a dark command. "Or I’ll stop."

The threat hung in the air, and you could feel Natasha’s resolve cracking, the thin veneer of control slipping away. Your fingers moved again, this time with a precision that had Natasha gasping, her back arching off the bed as pleasure shot through her.

"F-Fuck..Please.." Natasha finally whispered, the words slipping out before she could stop it. Her voice was strained, thick with need and the remnants of her shattered pride. But you weren’t satisfied with just that. You wanted more. You needed to hear Natasha fully surrender.

"Louder." you demanded, your fingers pushing Natasha closer to the brink, her body writhing beneath you. Natasha’s breath came in harsh pants, her mind clouded with desire, her body aching for release. The last of her resistance crumbled as she finally gave in, her voice breaking as she cried out.

"Please!" she begged, her voice hoarse, desperate. "Please, I need it.." The sound of Natasha’s surrender sent a thrill through you, a heady rush of satisfaction as you pushed her over the edge. Natasha’s body tensed, a strangled cry escaping her lips as she climaxed, her entire being consumed by the intense pleasure that wracked through her. You didn’t stop, drawing out Natasha’s orgasm, making sure she felt every last wave of pleasure until Natasha was left trembling and spent, her body limp beneath yours.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from Natasha’s flushed face. "There you go " you murmured, your voice soft but filled with the satisfaction of victory. "Was that so hard?"

Natasha lay there, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm that had ripped through her. Her breath was ragged, her mind swirling in a haze of pleasure and confusion. But as the aftershocks began to fade, the familiar desire to regain control, to be the one in charge, crept back into her consciousness. She shifted slightly beneath you, her muscles tensing as she prepared to turn the tables. But you, ever vigilant, sensed the shift immediately. A sly smile tugged at your lips as you watched the fire flicker back into Natasha’s eyes, the determination to reclaim her dominance clear. You weren’t about to let that happen. Not yet.

"Oh, no you don’t." you murmured, your voice laced with authority as you tightened your grip on Natasha’s wrists, pressing them back into the mattress. "We’re not done here. You think you can just switch back to being in control after one orgasm? Think again."

Natasha’s breath hitched, her body still sensitive from the overwhelming pleasure, but she couldn’t help the small flicker of defiance that flashed in her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, to protest, but you silenced her with a firm kiss, one that left no room for argument. Your hand moved with purpose, sliding down Natasha’s body, your fingers finding the slickness between Natasha’s thighs once more. Natasha gasped against your lips, her hips instinctively bucking as a fresh wave of pleasure surged through her. She wasn’t ready, she thought she was, but the intensity of your touch was too much, too soon, and her mind scrambled to catch up with the sensations overwhelming her.

"Y/n-" Natasha tried to protest, her voice cracking as she attempted to regain some semblance of control. But you weren’t having any of it. You pulled back just enough to look into Natasha’s eyes, your gaze sharp and commanding. "You’re going to stay right here, Natasha. You’re not going anywhere until I say so." Natasha’s pride flared up, but your relentless fingers left her no room to argue. You expertly teased her, bringing her close to the edge once more, only to back off slightly, leaving Natasha teetering on the brink. It was maddening, this push and pull, the way you held her at the precipice of release without letting her fall over.

"F-Fuck, Y/n comon.." Natasha finally whispered, the word slipping out unbidden as her need began to overpower her pride. You smirked, your fingers increasing their pace, knowing exactly how to push Natasha to the edge and keep her there. "What’s that, Natasha?" you taunted, your voice dripping with dark amusement. "I didn’t quite hear you."

Natasha’s body trembled, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she fought to hold on to whatever sliver of control she had left. But you were relentless, your fingers working in tandem with your lips as they traced a hot path down Natasha’s neck, sucking lightly on the sensitive skin. "Please, let me cum.." Her voice more desperate now, her body aching for release.

"That’s more like it." you whispered against Natasha’s lips, your voice thick with satisfaction. Your fingers curled just right, pressing against that spot that made Natasha cry out, her body bucking uncontrollably as the second orgasm ripped through her.

Natasha’s world exploded in a blinding haze of white, hot pleasure, her mind shattering as she was pulled under by the sheer intensity of it. But even as she climaxed, you didn’t stop. You kept going, your fingers never pausing, drawing out Natasha’s orgasm until the assassin was left a trembling, quivering mess beneath you. Natasha’s breath came in ragged gasps, her body completely at your mercy. She thought..hoped that it was over, that you would finally let her rest. But you had other plans.

Before Natasha could even catch her breath, your fingers were moving again, relentless in their pursuit of Natasha’s total surrender. Natasha whimpered, her body oversensitive, her mind struggling to keep up with the onslaught of sensations. "P-Please!" Natasha pleaded, her voice broken, her body trembling uncontrollably as you pushed her closer to the edge once more. "Please, I can’t-"

"Yes, you can.." you whispered, your voice a soft command as you leaned down to kiss Natasha’s neck. "You’re strong, Natasha. Strong enough to take everything I give you."

Natasha’s pride was shattered, her body and mind pushed beyond their limits. She had never been this vulnerable, this out of control, and yet she couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of her mouth. "That’s it, Natasha.." you murmured, your voice soothing as you brought Natasha to the brink one last time. "Let go. Give it to me."

Natasha couldn’t hold back anymore. Her body tensed, a strangled cry escaping her lips as the third orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her with a force that left her gasping for air. You held her through it, your fingers never stopping, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until Natasha was left utterly spent, her body limp and trembling. You finally slowed, your touch becoming gentle, soothing, as you leaned down to press soft kisses to Natasha’s flushed skin. Natasha’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze dazed, her body still humming with the aftershocks of the intense pleasure you had wrought.

"You did so well, Natasha.." you whispered, your voice filled with warmth as you brushed a strand of hair away from Natasha’s face. "You took everything I gave you." Natasha’s breath hitched, her chest rising and falling with the effort of trying to catch her breath. She felt utterly exposed, completely vulnerable, but there was also a strange sense of peace, a peace that came with knowing she had given everything, that she had let go completely.

You smiled down at her, a soft, satisfied smile, before leaning in to capture Natasha’s lips in a gentle, lingering kiss. It wasn’t about dominance or control anymore..it was about the connection you had forged in those intense moments, a connection that neither of you could deny. When you finally pulled back, you brushed your thumb over Natasha’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped during the intensity of your encounter. Natasha looked up at you, her eyes still wide with the remnants of her vulnerability, but there was also a newfound respect and trust in her gaze.

You slid down beside Natasha, pulling her close, letting the silence of the room envelop you both. For now, there was no need for words. You had said everything that needed to be said through your bodies, through the way you had challenged and ultimately surrendered to each other.

[ivyasproperty]

Hold me, console me.

natasha.r x fem!reader

summary — good things never come for ex hydra experiments, well that's what you had always thought. but a certain redhead is determined to prove you wrong.

warning(s) : cursing ( just a bit ), some mentions of anxiety

word count : 1.03k

A/N : istg this fic took me FOREVER TO WRITE because i was lazy ( oops ), so i hope you guys enjoy it cuz its kinda sloppy.....

You'd already been apart of the avengers for a few months now, and that meant living in the avengers compound. And even though you've been living with the heroes of New York for the past 7 months, you've always felt out of place in the team. Your team members worked in sync, always backing each other up without needing to vocalize it, but there was you, who struggled to even maintain a conversation with them. That was the main reason why you decided to take less part in missions, and of course Fury bit you in the ass for it, nothing got out of his sight after all, even after losing an eye. But there was also another reason, being an ex-hydra experiment took it's toll on you. You knew you were never the kind of person to harm others, but the words that the guards of doctors at the hydra facilities would yell at you always stayed in the back of your mind and gnawed at you.

ᯓ★

You had once again turned down the offer of helping out in a mission from Steve. He was a nice guy, so it hurt your heart after seeing the worried and upset look on his face. Steve Rogers was the person who had saved you from the hell hole you were raised with, alongside Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. Speaking of Natasha, you may or may not have harbored a huge small crush on the said spy after staying at the compound. The confidence that radiated off of her had always inspired you to be better, but you guessed it wasn't enough since you've been locking yourself inside your room for the past few weeks. You could tell your behavior was worrying others, you weren't always the cheery type but you'd at least hang around in the kitchen or joined them for movie night, but as your anxiety became worse, you grew cold and snarky, barely coming out of your room during both day and night.

Tony Stark, being the person he was, wanted to barge into your room and confront you. The others protested but he wouldn't relent, not wanting to hurt his ego after shouting so loudly. But he seemed to shrink into himself a bit after receiving a glare from the redheaded assassin. She was the most worried one out of all your teammates, and rightfully so, considering how she was the one to take care of you after the avengers took you under their wing.

Natasha had knew long ago about the crush you had on her, you were discreet with it yes, but nothing could get past a highly trained assassin. Natasha had tried to brush the fluttery feeling she felt in her belly after finding out, thinking it was just her imagination. But as days went by and you not coming out of your room, she got even more worried, so worried that she had broken into your room once just to check on you. It was then that she realized that she liked you too.

"I'll talk to her, Tony," her voice left no room for an argument as she got up from her seat on the couch and left the room in search of you. Tony had wanted to tag along, wanting to see what was about to unfold but was stopped by a hand gripping strongly onto his wrist. "Leave her be, Stark. She'll know how to handle it, and you need to stop meddling in other people's business." Wanda knew of your struggles, considering how she was also an ex-hydra experiment, so she knew you needed time and space.

Tony being Tony, denied the accusation of meddling in other people's business. Your teammates groaned, done with his shenanigans and left the room, but not before a small banter between them and the big boss.

ᯓ★

Natasha walked to your room in a hurry, not wanting to waste a single second. She knew the way to your room by heart, she always visited you during the night and waited outside your door, just in case you decided to come out of the confinements in your room.

Once she had reached your room, she knocked on your door, calling out your name. She wasn't surprised that there wasn't a response and decided to just pick lock her way through your door. She knew it was wrong but she didn't seem to care anymore. She needed you to come out of your room, she needed to see you.

After she successfully pick locked your door, she was met with you under your covers with trash littered everywhere in your room. It was obvious you weren't taking care of yourself. You noticed a presence in your room and turned to look towards your door, not that surprised at the shocked look on her face that disappeared and was replaced with a worried look. You didn't know why but all the emotions that were bottled up inside of you suddenly burst out and you started sobbing like your life depended on it. Natasha, quickly breaking out of her stupor, ran to your side to console you.

"It'll be alright, I'm right here, malysh." You didn't know how long your cried for, you didn't care how long you cried for. Natasha was there for you and you didn't care about anything else but that.

After calming down and drying your tears, she cupped your cheeks and placed her lips on yours. Your eyes went wide in shock, not knowing what to do. You could feel her smile against your lips, amused in your reaction. "You'll be alright, I''ll always be here to help you through it, alright?" You could feel tears welling up in your eyes again, but for a completely different reason.

Even though you knew it'd take time for you to feel like you were a part of the team and open up about it to them, you didn't seem to dwell on the matter. Your mind was somewhere else as confessions were whispered into the dead of night into your bedroom with your lover, that you knew would be there to hold you and console you, even in your worse times.

A/N : NO BC THIS IS SO BAD IM CRYING, i regret being lazy and procrastinating on this one bc it turned out so rushed to me, but i hope you guys still enjoyed it >< feel free to leave requests anytime!!!!!

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Solnyshko - Natasha Romanoff x gn!Reader

A/N: I really really wanted to write a small thing for Natasha, so here we are. I set this in a 2012ish era, which is why the Avengers live at the Tower and such. I might do something more with this Reader and their powers in a future story as well.

Also, solnyshko means little sun in Russian. It’s the only potentially gendered language in the fic

Dividers by @/whimsicalrogers

CW: fluff, language, soft Natasha, Natasha speaks Russian, Reader is a former SHIELD agent, Reader has powers, failed missions, mentions of blood and injury, very very light angst, a forehead kiss, soft ending, probably ooc Natasha

640 words

“Hey, Nat,” you greet the red-haired Avenger with a sleepy smile. “Early morning, huh?”

“Good morning, solnyshko.” Natasha smiles back at you, handing you a cup of tea. “I should be saying that to you. You look like you’re still half-asleep.”

You laugh and rub the back of your neck, taking a sip of your drink. “I feel like it. I dunno how you can do early morning missions. I feel like shit.”

Natasha just smiles and pulls out a seat for you at the table.

You’re a former SHIELD agent. One of Barton’s old teammates. You’ve known Natasha since the day she joined.

Now you’re an unofficial member of the new team. The big team. You deal with the remnants of SHIELD for them and they help you train your powers.

You don’t have anything really special. No magic or anything. But your light powers come in handy for making illusions and you’ve been called in several times to help out with Loki when he comes to Earth. So all in all, you’re not complaining.

You take a seat at the table and enjoy the bits of morning you have. You’re leaving in an hour and you want to savor your last moments with the team.

Well, the members of the team who are up. Cap comes in before his morning run, but doesn’t stick around for long. Tony passes through briefly to grab a cup of coffee. The others, you know they won’t be up for another couple of hours at least.

So you enjoy your morning with Natasha. It’s been a while since you and her chatted, and you enjoy the conversation.

Eventually your time is up.

“Wish me luck,” you tell her with a wry smile.

She laughs and gives you a fond look. “You’ll do great. You’re our best, after all.”

You laugh at that and head on out.

Your return isn’t nearly as happy or cheerful.

The mission was a failure. Despite your best efforts, your target got the jump on you and shot you four times. You’d barely made the journey back, your wounds bleeding profusely.

By the time you’re sent to the medbay, you’re woozy with loss of blood. Your steps are sluggish and you lean against the wall for support.

There’s a voice calling your name. Then arms sliding under you, scooping you up.

There’s hair as red as blood brushing against your face. And then your eyes shut.

When you open them again, you’re in your room at the Tower. Your body aches like hell, but you can feel all your limbs.

You shift your arm, your muscles groaning in protest. Still, you force yourself up a bit, before a hand on your shoulder stops you.

“You gotta lie down.” It’s Natasha, looking rather tired and weary. “Doctor’s orders.”

“Fuck the doctor,” you mutter, trying to get up further.

Natasha gently pushes you back down. “Not the time, solnyshko.”

You don’t resist further. Instead, you sigh and stare up at the ceiling. “The mission failed.”

“It wasn’t your fault. We had bad intel.” She toys with the sleeve of your shirt. “Our inside man was a double agent.”

“Still. I could’ve done better.”

She gently flicks your forehead. “Don’t play that game. You did what you could. Getting shot like that would put anyone out of commission.”

You look at her. At her red-as-blood hair. “Even you?”

She smiles faintly. “Even me.”

It makes you feel a bit better and you nod. “Thanks.”

She leans in and kisses your forehead. “Always.”

A yawn overtakes you and you groan softly. Natasha laughs a little. “Go back to sleep. Your wounds need time to heal.”

You yawn again and nod, letting your eyes close. “Goodnight, Nat.”

Her fingers find yours and she gives your hand a light squeeze. “Goodnight, solnyshko. Sweet dreams.”

[traveler-at-heart]

Brave

Summary: The sudden loss of someone in your family leaves you broken. Natasha tries to help.

A/N: Special thanks to @happychopshoppenguin for helping me to sort out ideas for this plot.

It was a regular day for the Avengers.

Mission, explosions, fighting some bad guys and then fly back in the Quinjet.

“Fury’s gonna be mad” Clint taunts, looking at you.

“He didn’t say how to stop them from sharing the drive with the Chinese” you smile, thinking that blowing up their entire control room was a bit much. But, you were in a hurry to finish the mission and go home.

Clint rolls his eyes and steers the Quinjet.

“Alright, it’s gonna be at least seven hours. Go get some sleep, dynamite. Tasha, you ok?”

Natasha had been quiet, which was nothing new around you. To most people, it was probably the contrast in personalities; while the Russian was reserved, you were very outgoing.

You’d hope it was just that, and not that she disliked you. After a few attempts at conversation that turned cold, you decided to be cordial, but give her space.

Right now, she’s sitting in the back of the Quinjet, no visible injuries. But still, her hand is over her ribs, and she seems to be deep in thought.

You know what’s happening and that she’d never ask for help.

“Do you need to clean any wounds? I’ll take over the Quinjet while you do” you offer to Clint and he shakes his head no. Walking to the first aid kit, you pull out a bottle of water, painkillers and a pack of ice. You’re about to walk to sit next to Natasha, when you bring a hand to your forehead.

“Great. Blood and sooth. I must stink” placing the first aid stuff next to her, you mumble to yourself about taking a quick shower.

By the time you come out, Natasha has already taken a pill, and has the ice pack over her bruised ribs. Her eyes are closed, and much as you’d like to stare, you go sit next to Clint, hoping to get home soon.

—

Maria is waiting on the hangar when you land.

“Told ya” Clint mocks and you turn to glare at him.

“Did you snitch on me, Barton?”

“Y/N” Maria says, and her tone alone erases your smile.

“What’s wrong?” you say, going over every possible scenario. This is your last mission before a two week break to go back home. “Is it…?”

Your mom was supposed to have surgery. But she was fine. It couldn’t be…

“I’m sorry”

It’s as if a bucket of ice cold water was poured over your head. Your hands are so numb, you can’t feel Natasha taking one of them, her arm around your shoulders.

—

It’s been a week. Natasha tries not to think about you, mainly because there’s nothing she can do to help.

And it’s none of her business when (or if) you come back. Still, she feels a certain heaviness in her movements as she makes her morning coffee.

You always made enough for the two of you. And it tastes so much better than the one Natasha makes.

“Is Y/N around?” Maria walks in, looking for you.

“I thought she was still with her family”

“She came back earlier. It didn’t… it sounded bad. Like a family disagreement had happened on top of everything else” Maria sighs.

“Do you know what it was?”

“All I know is that her mother’s condition had been bad for a while… and then they did emergency surgery but her heart was too weak”

Natasha nods in silence, imagining how hard it must be for you. How your mother always sent something she knitted for everyone on the team on their birthdays, or how your parents would fly to visit at least once a month.

“If you see her, will you let me know? I just want to make sure she’s alright”

“Of course”

—

No one saw you, not even for movie night. It’s not like the team was expecting you, but it was quiet as the movie played on the screen, and only Sam seemed to be paying attention.

Natasha looks at the table in the middle of the room.

You always got her Dr. Pepper. Her guilty pleasure, a little indulgence in her life of strict physical activity and healthy meals.

This time, there’s only beer that no one bothers to drink. A headache threatens to sour her mood even more, but the cupboard with medical supplies is almost empty.

That’s how everything feels without you around.

Natasha had hoped you’d be at the staff meeting next Monday, but everyone took a seat, your chair remained empty.

“We have to do something” Steve says, looking around. His eyes meet Maria’s.

“Well, she’s been going on solo missions”

“And you think that’s a good idea?” Barton challenges, clearly annoyed. Would it be so hard for Fury to give a damn about his team?

“Listen, any one of you is welcomed to join her but I don’t think…”

“I’ll go” Natasha says.

“Good. Maybe she needs some… girl talk” Steve says and everyone laughs for the first time in weeks.

“Yes, we’ll braid our hair while we wait for the bad guys, Steve” Natasha mocks.

“Nice one, Capsicle” Tony says.

Truth be told, Natasha wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction when you saw her at the hangar.

“I’m on solo duty, Natasha” you say without looking at her, getting inside the small aircraft.

“Fury’s orders” the redhead lies, following you. She almost crashes against your back as you stop and turn around.

“If you’re coming, I don’t want to hear any scolding or complains. I’m running this operation”

“That’s fine by me”

Either way, from what she read on the file, it was only information extraction. And yet, you were gone for thirty minutes, after she successfully hacked into the database.

“Where the hell have you been?” Natasha scolds, forgetting about her previous promise.

“Can you get us on the air? I’ll take over in a minute” you answer, your face evidently beaten up, as one of your eyes was starting to swell.

Natasha is torn between concern and anger, but she figures it is better to talk to  you once they’re away from the enemy. With a sigh, she starts the engine and sets the coordinates of the Compound.

A spot on the floor catches her eye.

Blood. A lot of it.

“Y/N?” she stands up, looking around. Following the trail of blood, she opens up the door to the small bathroom. She sees you, your uniform torn around your thigh, a gash exposed. “Oh my God!”

“Ever tried knocking?” you say, without looking at her. Next thing you do is use the surgical stapler to close the wound, not caring to use anesthesia.

“You need stitches”

“I’m fine” you stand up, taking off the top of your uniform. Natasha spots bruises that are just starting to heal.

Maybe that’s why the medical supplies were gone the other day.

“Y/N…”

“If you’re not gonna fly, I’m taking over” you walk towards the cabin, and she stands there, looking at all the blood that you left behind.

What the hell is she gonna tell Maria when you come back?

There’s a moment of silence as you land the Quinjet. You hope that Natasha will not even start about your injury, so you wait for her to leave.

“Y/N?” 

“I’m fine, Natasha”

“I’m worried” she admits in a low voice, which catches you off guard. You’ve never thought she cared enough, not about you at least.

“I’ll stop going on missions until I’m better”

She wants to tell you it’s not enough, because an injury isn’t the issue here. But Natasha also recognizes when she’s about to cross a boundary. 

So, she just nods and leaves the hangar. The feeling of defeat comes with her as you’re left alone on the jet.

—

Another Monday, another staff meeting. 

To everyone’s surprise, you’re the last through the door. Steve sits up, but the rest of the team just looks at you, afraid that saying anything else might scare you away.

For your part, you ignore everyone but Natasha, placing a paper bag from her favorite bakery in front of her. 

She smiles at you, because it’s something you always do on Monday meetings. This time, you don’t mutter your usual excuse of being around the bakery first thing in the morning. You do give a little smile in return, and Natasha tries to ignore the warm feeling she gets from the gesture.

“Everyone, have a seat” Maria says, trying to pretend she isn’t surprised to see you as well. “We have word of a HYDRA base storing potentially dangerous technology. It’s big enough to send the whole team”

“Surely some of us could stay behind if we’re not up for it” Barton says, avoiding your eyes. He’s the only one that knows about what happened on your mission with Natasha. 

“It’s not ideal, but if anyone wants out, speak now. Very well”, she continues after a beat of silence. “Here’s the map of the facility. You leave in an hour”

—

The mission was completed. 

Barely. 

You’re holding a gauze against your side, to stop the bleeding from a bullet graze. Fury’s been called to go over what happened. 

He doesn’t seem pleased.

“You better do something about her” Tony says, his finger pointing at you.

“Stark” Barton warns but you don’t even react to his confrontation.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. If she wants to go and get killed, that’s her deal. But we were just about done with the mission when she decides to fight a dozen HYDRA agents on her own”

“We need to calm down” Steve says.

“No, there was a town a few miles south and HYDRA had nuclear warheads. Have we learned nothing? This could have been catastrophic” 

“But it wasn’t, so…”

“If you have some mommy issues to deal with, do it on your free time. I’m not gonna burden myself with civilian deaths over your trauma” 

“Tony!” Steve reprimands, standing up. They’re so busy facing each other, they never see you approaching. You throw a punch that hits Stark square in the eye, followed by another one that breaks his nose.

“Say that again, you fucking asshole” you shout, throwing a kick that never lands. It takes Steve and Bucky to hold you back. “Talk shit, Stark, see what happens” 

“That’s enough. You’re suspended, effective immediately” Fury says.

“I’ll do you one better. I quit” you push Rogers and Bucky away, not bothering to look at the rest of your teammates. 

It’s better this way.

—

It’s not hard to find you. Being a professional spy works in Natasha’s favor, but you’re basically bouncing from your apartment to the bar around the corner.

Sit and drink.

That’s all you do from the moment you walk in, around noon and then you leave past midnight. Before going up your apartment, you stop by the bodega to get another bottle of whatever cheap booze they have and call it a night.

Natasha looks from across the street, debating between going inside and talking to you or just going home.

What can she tell you to make it all better?

That’s the question she asks herself all week, and come Friday Natasha still doesn’t have an answer. 

The bar is crowded and the redhead figures it’s safe enough to go inside without being spotted.

You’re in your usual spot, leaning against the bar while sitting on a stool. The loud music and conversations make you dizzy, but you still ask for another scotch and drink half of it in one gulp.

“Are you moving anytime soon?” a twenty something year old pops out of nowhere and you don’t even look his way. “We want to sit at the bar and watch the game, I’m sure you can go be a sad drunk somewhere else”

“Fuck off” you say after finishing your drink and asking for another one. When they give it to you, the idiot knocks it from your hand. 

“You have ten seconds to apologize or leave” you rub your temples, thinking how much worse your headache will be after kicking his ass.

“I don’t think so” he says, throwing a punch at you. Even with all you drank, you’re able to avoid his fist, knocking him down in one swift motion.

“Crap” you kinda forgot he was not alone. Three more guys show up, and while you’re busy blocking some kicks, one of them manages to punch you in the face. You fall to the ground, feeling a kick to your side and a fist that connects with your nose.

At this point, you give up, thinking that getting your ass kicked in a bar is just as effective as drinking the day away.

But the next attack never comes. In fact, all three men are down.

“Get up” you hear someone say. 

It sounds like Natasha.

You try to stand, but there’s a pain in your side. Before you can collapse on the ground, arms go around your waist and help you stand, walking side by side all the way to your apartment.

The lavender scent and the gentle touch confirms it’s Natasha, and you try not to think about how much you’ve missed her.

The redhead opens the door to your apartment, letting you down on the couch. You grunt as you sit, blood running down your nose and temple.

Yeah, this is going to be the worst hangover of your life.

“Where’s your first aid kit?” Natasha says looking around the place. 

You really did miss her and the thought finally breaks you.

“What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?” Natasha kneels in front of you the minute you let out a sob, tears mixing with the blood.

“It’s not worth it, Nat. I’m not worth the trouble. You should go” you plead, overwhelmed at the guilt that’s been consuming you for weeks now.

“What are you talking about?” 

“She kept asking for me. When they were at the hospital. She wanted to see me, she was scared and in pain and I wasn’t there. My mother died and I didn’t get to say goodbye” 

“Y/N…”

“What kind of person does that? How can you fail so badly to the people that loved you?” 

“You didn’t fail”

“Yes, I did” you say, struggling to breathe.

“You didn’t. It’s ok” Natasha tries to calm you, her hands going through your hair until your breathing evens out. 

The rush of adrenaline leaves your body, and pretty soon, you’re slumped against the couch, Natasha’s hands still in yours.

—

There’s light. And pain.

A different kind than the one you’ve had. As you sit up, you feel your bruised ribs and when you grimace, the split lip reminds you your face didn’t fare any better during your fight.

Natasha…

“How are you feeling?” you turn to find the woman standing in the middle of your kitchen. 

“Like shit” you reply and she chuckles.

“There’s some coffee. It’s not as good as the one you make, but it will do. I should go” she sets her cup down, sighing.

“You don’t have to…” you want her to stay. But you don’t know what will happen if you ask her.

“I do, actually” she walks towards the door, but you endure the pain to meet her at the threshold. 

“Nat”

“No” she shakes her head, without looking back at you. “You have no idea how hard it is to watch someone you love hurt themselves”

The word love echoes, making you take a step back.

Natasha turns to look at you, a tear rolling down her cheek.

“I guess you were bound to find out eventually”

“Natasha” you plead, not knowing what to say.

“No, I don’t want to hear it. I won’t go into this when you’re going through hell and all i’ve done is watch you from afar. I guess I just want you to know…” she wipes the tears and looks at you. “You buy my favorite brand of peanut butter. You wake up one hour before I do, but the coffee is done only when I’m up. My water bottle is always full and cold before going to the gym. You charge my phone when I forget to, and when it’s late and I’m still working you stop by and tell me you made too much pasta just so I eat something…. You’re not a bad person. You’re wonderful and I wish I could have told you sooner. I’m sorry” Natasha turns around and leaves.

You don’t stop her this time.

—

It’s been three days and Natasha hasn’t heard from you. To be fair, she said a lot of things and didn’t wait for you to reply, so that might have been a bad idea.

Talking to Clint might be the only solution and she’s looking for him when you leave the conference room, followed by Maria and Steve.

Tony approaches you from the other side and Natasha waits around the corner.

“I’m sorry about what I said” Stark says and you nod.

“Fair enough. Not sorry about punching you, though”

“Fair enough” he repeats, smiling.

When they all leave, you turn back, your eyes meeting Natasha’s.

“Hi” you approach her, hands inside your pockets.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sober”

“That’s good”

“Mhm” you nod, holding her stare. Your eyes travel to her lips and you sigh. “Can we talk?”

“We don’t have to…”

“I wanna show you something. It won’t take long, I promise. What do you say?” you offer your hand and she stares at it for a second.

When Natasha nods and takes it, you hold her tight, leading her out of the Compound.

—

“She loved Central Park” you remember, walking around the benches, Natasha’s hand still in yours. “The whole city, really”

“She liked it because you live here, I think” Natasha says and you nod.

“Well, that and the pizza”

“Right” the redhead nods. You find a bench and lead her to it, pointing at the plaque.

Love is only for the brave, followed by your mother’s name.

“Is something she said often. Figured it might be nice to have it here, for people to read and gather courage”

“That’s a beautiful way to remember her” Natasha nods, aware that you’re moving closer.

“I didn’t get a chance to tell you what I thought back at my place, Nat” 

“You don’t need to explain anything” she interrupts, giving you a way out.

“I didn’t think you liked me that much. And I absolutely thought I was being more discreet about my feelings for you” 

“It’s hard for me to think that love makes you brave… or strong” Natasha says, taking a step forward so you’re inches apart. 

“I know. Please let me show you?”

“I think I’d like that” she nods, leaning forward until your lips meet in a short kiss.

When you break apart, you remember that time your mother visited. How she insisted Natasha looked at you in a special way. 

“What’s so funny?” Natasha asks against your lips when you smile.

“I love you” you say and she pulls you closer.

Everything will be ok, as long as you have each other.

[nataliasquote]

Can’t You See This Is Breaking Me? | n romanoff

Summary: Natasha isn’t quite ready to give her entire life for the woman she loves

Warnings: injuries, blood, stitches, no happy ending

wc: 5.2k

note: this idea was given to me by @katyaromanoffpetrova (love you 🤍) and she’s fuelling my love hate relationship with angst. Also, this was so hard to condense, so I’m sorry if it’s lacking detail. I tried to cram three years of a relationship into 5k words :)

-⧗-

It was no secret to anyone how little regard Natasha had for her own life. Even since her very first Shield mission, she’d been a force to be reckoned with, partly down to her pure destructive nature. She didn’t care if taking down Hydra agents meant coming away with a bullet wound or two. Or if destroying an enemy testing laboratory meant four broken ribs and a cracked collar bone. As long as the job was done, that was all she cared about.

Nick Fury was getting tired of how many lectures he had given a young, 25 year old Natasha in his office when he’d read her completed mission report. He knew why she had such a blatant disregard for her life but it didn’t make it any easier seeing one of his best agents beaten and bruised each week. The redhead barely flinched when her wounds were inspected, but to be honest she didn’t really react to anything.

She was more of a ghost really, a pale figure soundlessly walking the halls at night. If her injuries didn’t let keep her awake at night, then the nightmares gladly took their turn, drenching her entire body in a cold sweat and leaving her shivering in her tangled sheets. But if the dark circles under her eyes looked worse, her friend and mentor Clint didn’t utter a word.

The structure and routine that manifested week by week kept her grounded and focused. Wake up, train, eat, surveillance, sleep. Missions were a welcome break from the otherwise monotonous rhythm Natasha had found herself in. She much preferred working solo as opposed to in a team, but Shield was all about team work so she had to suck it up.

A lot of the time she found herself alongside Clint Barton who weirdly offered her a feeling of comfort. She liked how he never pried too much into how she was feeling, or her past, but kept a look out for her whenever they were together. Her icy demeanour slowly melted away thanks to his warmth that he never failed to show her.

He showed her how to let people in, how to not keep her heart so tightly guarded in fear of actually feeling something about someone. And as much as she would hate to admit it, he was right. It did feel better knowing people cared about her. But it also terrified her at the same time. Vulnerability wasn’t her strong suit.

Yet somehow she had managed to let her tough exterior be pushed aside just long enough for a certain someone to wiggle her way in and take up permanent residence inside the redhead’s mind.

Y/n Y/l/n wasn’t really anyone compared to Natasha. Sure, she was a shield agent, and a high ranking one at that, but that was nothing compared to an Avenger. She’d spend years in their shadow, always looking up to Natasha Romanoff. I mean, who wouldn’t? She’s pretty badass.

But the young agent thought her relationship with said Avenger would end at idolisation and daydreaming. She never expected to suddenly be living amongst them in the compound. But when an empty training room was suddenly disrupted at three in the morning, it was a sign things were to change forever.

Y/n relished the silence that the training room at night brought. Most of her colleagues preferred to train in a group at 7am, but insomnia often brought her into the gym a lot earlier. She loved it though; a way to clear her head and exhaust her body whilst maintaining peak physical fitness required in case of a last second mission.

Lost in a world of music playing through her headphones, Y/n failed to notice the door slowly open, caught up in her boxing routine on the punch bag. She should have been more aware of her surroundings, like she’d been trained, so that she didn’t nearly jump out of her skin as a voice cut through her music.

“You’re gonna get a sore back if you keep using the wrong form.”

Without having ever met in person, Y/n would recognise that voice anywhere. She whipped around and quickly pulled her headphones off around her neck, cheeks flushing as she took in the woman in front of her.

A black sports bra and navy sweatpants was all that adorned Natasha’s toned body. She stood there with a hand on her hip, the other holding a small towel, a water bottle and her own pair of headphones. Y/n desperately tore her eyes away from the widow’s toned abs, feeling her own insecurities creep upwards. She itched for her sweatshirt that lay discarded on the bench just out of reach. That was the last time she ever trained in a sports bra.

“You keep twisting your back as you punch. You need to move from your hips.” Y/n just looked at her with surprise, not fully processing that they were having a conversation at all. “Do you want me to show you?”

“Yeah, sure.” That snapped her out of her trance. Y/n took a step back and allowed Nat to place her things down before she packed a swift punch to the bag, sending it swinging slightly on its stand. Y/n couldn’t lie, she looked really good, arm muscles tensed as she threw a few more punches. Her form was impeccable, but of course it was.

“When you swing round you have to rotate your hips for momentum. Just turning from your back will cause injury.” Y/n nodded, mirroring her stance on the punching bag beside Natasha. “Unless you’re doing lots of smaller ones, then you need to keep your hips still. That just comes from your shoulders.”

Nat threw a few more punches before Y/n copied, missing the small smile that broke out on the Russian’s lips as she observed. Fast learner, she noted, nodding in approval as Y/n turned back to her.

“Very good.” She bent down to grab her things, back muscles on full show to Y/n who just could not stop staring. You’d think she was used to the sight of toned bodies after working out everyday, but there was something different about Natasha and she couldn’t quite work it out.

“Thank you. I’m Y/n, by the way. I work in-“

“I know who you are,” Natasha said casually, looking the woman up and down. “You work with Hill. She talks about you.”

Y/n’s eyes went wide. “She does?”

Nat smirked. “Yeah, why? Does she not talk about me?”

“No, she does- we do-“ what happened to calm and collected shield agent she once was? Reduced to a stuttering mess of words in front of a pretty redhead. God, Y/n cursed herself for not being able to talk to women.

“I’m joking, don’t worry.” Natasha gave her a soft smile before walking off to the weights section, her headphones shutting out the world so she could focus.

Y/n however, could not focus on anything except that brief interaction. It was probably so small in Natasha’s life, yet it would consume Y/n for at least a week, if not more. Maria was going to have a field day with this.

Except it wasn’t small in Natasha’s life. The flustered agent had left quite a mark and Natasha found herself creeping down to the gym at 3am most mornings, hoping to see the woman she’d grown to love so much. And, more often than not, Y/n was there, punching away at the bag and pausing when Nat came in.

Over a course of many weeks, both had changed their training plans to match each other. It felt nice working out with another, Natasha had to admit, and Y/n was so easy to talk to she set the redhead right at ease. They talked and laughed and Y/n noticed how the usually uptight Russian had come out of her shell a lot more since that very first night.

However, one night didn’t go so smoothly. Y/n was in the training room first, of course. She sat on the bench and adjusted her socks, keeping herself busy until Natasha arrived. The past couple of nights had been just her as the redhead had been on a mission, but Maria informed her that she would return tonight, so Y/n anxiously awaited her return. She was more worried about Natasha than she let on, but they had no relationship outside of those four walls so she bounced her knee, willing her new friend to walk through the doors.

And she did. Except this wasn’t the confident Natasha she usually knew. No, this Natasha was walking stiffly, almost as if she was in pain.

“Nat?” Y/n asked, standing hesitantly at the sight of her. Small cuts and bruises littered her face and what skin was exposed under the neck of her tactical suit. Agents always had to report to medical following their return from a mission, but by the looks of Natasha, she hadn’t done that. “Why- what are you doing here?”

“Can’t miss training with my favourite girl, now can I?” She tried to sound upbeat but it fell flat, her pain evident even in her voice.

Y/n pushed aside the butterflies that erupted in her chest at those words and sprung up to help her, guiding Natasha to the nearest bench and forcing her to sit. She took note of how Natasha’s hand tightly clutched her side and she feared the worst.

She thought for a second, feeling Natasha’s eyes all over her face. “May I…?” She gestured to the zip on Natasha’s suit and the redhead nodded, stiffly manoeuvring her arms out of her sleeves as Y/n tugged it down to her waist. The agent had switched to processional mode and ignored how close Natasha’s bra clad chest was to her face as she inspected her side.

“What happened?” She asked, crouching down with a hand gently resting on the redhead’s knee as she gently felt the skin around the wound.

“Some stupid agent snuck up on me and threw his knife. Shit aim though.” Of course she tried to make a joke, but Y/n wasn’t laughing as she looked into her eyes. The redhead almost wanted to roll her eyes, and she would have done if anyone else looked at her with pity like that, but Y/n was different. Safer.

“Why didn’t you go to medical?”

Nat looked down, averting her eyes. “I didn’t want to. I hate it there.”

Y/n knew not to push. She didn’t know much about Natasha’s past but knew enough to know that it must have been horrific to endure. She sat back on her heels and bit her lip in thought.

“Will you let me sort it? I keep a suture kit and supplies in my bathroom.” She caught Natasha’s eye and gently squeezed her knee, trying to establish enough trust between them to let her accept the help. But Natasha was stubborn, so there was truly no way of knowing which way she’d swing.

“Ok.” That was not the expected answer but Y/n was happy to hear it. She knew not to help Natasha up, the redhead probably would have punched her, so she collected her things and led them both back to her apartment, walking a bit slower than normal to help Natasha keep up.

Her room was nothing special and probably looked identical to Natasha’s as they both had Shield issued rooms. Although Natasha’s would be fancier thanks to Tony Stark and his upgrades.

There were no personal items on any of the surfaces, not even in the bedroom. Natasha looked around with a frown, not liking how bare everything seemed. Not homely, that’s for sure. Even the bedside cabinets were empty, not even a picture frame for decoration.

“Take a seat anywhere, I’ll be right out.” Natasha chose the couch by the small coffee table and sank down onto it. The couch wasn’t anything special and neither was the table, ring marks displaying its age and use on the surface. The overhead light was dim but brightened up as Y/n stepped back into the room, a medical kit tucked under her arm.

She worked in silence, only broken by a hiss of pain from Natasha as the alcohol stung her wound. Y/n muttered an apology under her breath but kept working, fingers brushing gently over the soft skin as she made light work of stitching it closed. They weren’t the neatest but they’d do the job just fine.

“Thank you for this,” Natasha spoke into the silence, her eyes fixed on her fingers that rested on her lap. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe not, but I wanted to. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Natasha stayed silent for a moment, trying to organise her thoughts. She had people who cared about her, the Avengers, but not quite like Y/n had. She didn’t care who Natasha was, or how well she could take down enemies. She just enjoyed her presence and cared for her as a human being, something she rarely felt like she was.

“Can I make this up to you?” She tentatively asked, the strong Black Widow now a weird mess of nerves. What even was this?

“No, you don’t have to-“

“Come out with me on Saturday, into the city. Can I buy you lunch?”

Y/n stifled her smile and hid her face whilst packing up her equipment. She knew Natasha was asking her out on a date, albeit in a very roundabout way. It warmed her heart though, seeing her so soft. It was a side very few people ever got to see.

“Ok, sure. I’d really like that.”

Natasha smiled. “Now I know where you sleep, I’ll come pick you up.”

Y/n scrunched her nose at the odd phrasing. “You had to make it weird.”

“You know me,” she replied with a wink.

~~~

That date was a catalyst for many more to follow, and many midnight training sessions too. It took six more months of flirting and secret meet ups before Natasha pulled her heart out and wore it on her sleeve, asking Y/n to be her girlfriend.

The agent wasn’t stupid, of course she said yes. And at first their relationship was purely in the honeymoon stages; sneaking kisses in the hallway, comforting touches underneath the table, more midnight training and also moving in together. Natasha’s apartment was bigger than Y/n could ever have imagined and she adored the bed, starfishing face down on the mattress the first time she saw it.

But that was two years ago. Sure, they were still very much in love but something had shifted between them, creating a rift that Y/n had started to notice more and more. She knew what was causing it too.

Natasha was going on missions every other week, for days at a time. And she’d fallen back into her old habits, putting the job and the result over the safety of herself. More times than not did she come battered and bruised, open wounds bleeding as she walked into the bedroom. Y/n begged her to stop, to stay home more, to reduce the amount she went on even just to one a month, but her desperate attempts were met with a slammed door and a wall in Natasha’s mind. But she still persisted, trying again the next time Natasha came home. But it was useless.

Y/n always waited up for her though, the nerves of what state Natasha would be in when she returned making sleep pretty much impossible. Whatever she imagined, somehow it was always worse. She used to quiz Natasha as she led her into the bathroom and patched her up, placing kisses on each bruise that she found.

But now they barely said a word, Y/n almost running on autopilot as she cleaned cuts on Natasha’s back for what felt like the millionth time. It was draining her, anyone could see that, and being on edge all the time had made Maria notice.

“Take a week off to clear your head,” her supervisor had ordered, not taking any protests into consideration. “I don’t want to see you in this office before next Thursday, Y/l/n.”

A week off would have been great for anyone else but her. Natasha was away, again, which left Y/n with no ways to fully distract herself like she usually did to cope. She spent the first day in bed, holding onto Natasha’s pillow as her tears soaked the pillowcase. She hated how out of control she felt when Natasha was gone. It was her job, yet Y/n often wished Nat would retire, or at least pull back from constantly being in the field. But that’s what her girlfriend loved, so she had no choice but to respect it.

But on the third day of very little sleep and increasing stress levels, Y/n hit breaking point. She stared at her ghostly reflection as she splashed her face with some water, trying desperately to snap herself out of the lie she was feeling. But under the glaring lights all she could focus on were the heavy bags under her eyes and her discoloured skin, pink blotches littering her cheeks and forehead. She’d been picking at her skin to cope, but it did nothing but make her look worse.

She remained a zombie all day, curling back under the covers at 7pm to shut out the world. There was no telling when Natasha would return but part of her didn’t want it to be yet. She didn’t want to see the state she was in, the mess that she’d have to clean up. She loved Natasha, she really did, but with no contact allowed on her missions and no updates from the team, Y/n was starting to question if their relationship was even working.

She flicked off the light and turned to face the wall, images flashing in front of her as she worried herself stupid about her girlfriend. What if she wasn’t coming home? What if she’d been kidnapped? What if-

The apartment door opened.

Y/n held her breath, pulling the covers tightly under her chin as she waited. She knew the sound of Natasha’s footsteps based on her different moods, but the assassin stepped so lightly it was hard to tell. She felt footsteps getting closer and closer and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to face the horrors to come. She wanted one more blissful moment, but her heart was racing in her chest and her throat was getting tight.

The bedroom door opened.

Light from the living room flooded in through the small gap as Natasha stepped through, brows furrowed at the darkness. It wasn’t that late, but maybe she’d missed something. Wasn’t like she was around much.

“Y/n?” She whispered, not wanting to turn the light on. But she didn’t need to worry about that when suddenly the room was bathed in light. Her girlfriend was sat up in bed, eyes blotchy as she stared at her with a hand on the light switch. “What happened?”

“What hurts?” Y/n asked, sliding off her side of the bed and padding over to the bathroom. “Stitches? Probably bruising too.” She was talking to herself more than Natasha, hands working to gather her supplies. But she was stopped when a pair of rough hands gathered hers inside them, tugging her away from the sink. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ok,” Natasha said, removing one of her hands to gently cup Y/n’s chin, tilting her eyes to meet her own. “Just a couple of bruised ribs, but that’s nothing.”

“At least let me look at them.” Natasha knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer so she unzipped her suit and pulled it to her waist, revealing the nasty colourful sight. It was swollen and tender and Y/n cursed under her breath. She grabbed the tiger balm and gently applied it, trying to steady her shaking fingers as they touched Natasha’s skin.

“How have you been? How’s work?”

“Its fine, thanks.” Y/n wasn’t going to admit that Maria made her take a week off. She avoided Natasha’s gaze as she worked, even though there wasn’t much she could do for bruised ribs. “I’ll get you an ice pack when you’re dressed.” That was Natasha’s dismissal cue and she took it, but not without lingering in the doorway to watch Y/n for a moment.

By the time Natasha was dressed in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, Y/n had wrapped the ice pack in a towel and handed it to her. There was an uneasy tension between them and Natasha could see something was on Y/n’s mind, just waiting to be said.

“Y/n-“

“This is your last one, right?” She couldn’t help herself but blurt out. Somehow she found the confidence with her back to Nat, sitting on her side of the bed. “Please tell me it’s your last one.”

“Of what?”

“Your missions, Natasha.” She bent one knee and tucked it beside her as she turned her body to face Natasha who was still standing in the middle of the room, ice pack pressed to her ribs. “How many times are you going to keep doing this? Coming home in a state! I never know if one day you’re just not going to come home at all.”

Natasha bit her bottom lip. She knew this was going to happen, it always did. And shutting Y/n down didn’t exactly get easier with practice. “Don’t do this again Y/n, please. You know what my answer is.”

“No, Natasha. I’m not gonna accept that anymore. I’m not asking you to quit all together. I just mean reduce the number you go on, take up desk work or surveillance, just something, anything, to get you out of the firing line.” Y/n ran her hands over her face, trying to keep herself together. But the more she spoke, the stronger her emotions got. “I can’t live like this anymore!”

Natasha had placed her ice pack on the bed, not feeling the need to hold it up right now. She couldn’t move, even though she wanted to run to Y/n. “I know you don’t like it-“

“I hate it.”

“Ok fine, you hate it,” she held her hands up in defense. “But that doesn’t mean I suddenly have to stop.”

Y/n stood up from her position, not wanting an ache in her back from turning so much. She and Natasha were now at eye level although the redhead’s stoic face was a lot more composed than her own.

“You’re not listening to anything I say. I never said you had to stop. Ever. Because that would be hypocritical coming from me.” Natasha pulled a ‘sounds about right’ face which Y/n just ignored. “I’m just asking you to reduce the amount you go on. Once a month, maybe? You can still be in the action, still do everything you love, but that way you’re safer and you’re here more. I hardly see you.”

Natasha shook her head. “Our line of work isn’t safe Y/n, even you know that surely.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She was getting defensive, having reached her limit of Natasha trying to shut her down.

Natasha was too stubborn to give up, even when she knew she fucked up. She just couldn’t let it go. “You rarely leave this place! Always stuck in the same office, the same four walls going insane every day! I don’t know how you do it! I’d rather quit than do that.”

“I do that because I can still contribute to the missions without the risk of getting blown to hell,” Y/n spat, taking full offense to Natasha talking down about her job. Sure, she didn’t go into the field as much as the other agents but she preferred to be in the chair, handling everything from above. “And you know damn well those missions you love don’t work without someone like me.”

“And that’s great, for someone like you. But I can’t do that, you have to understand me. I can’t be behind the fight, I have to be in it.”

“No one else goes on as many as you do, Natasha. Don’t you think that just once, someone else can take a mission-“

“I don’t care Y/n!” Natasha may be a passionate person but she never raised her voice. So her elevated tone made Y/n’s jaw clench, her innate response whenever someone shouted at her. “You don’t get to dictate my life! That wasn’t our agreement-“

“Agreement? What, so this is, are we some kind of, I don’t know, contract that you’re obliged to?”

Natasha scoffed, her eyes rolling back at the pure ridiculousness of her statement. This whole argument was pointless really but she entertained it, too stubborn to give in or let Y/n win. “Oh come on, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I’m just sick of lying here in fear every week wondering if you’re actually going to come home or not! I can’t keep doing this Nat.” Y/n was having a hard time keeping Natasha in her vision as tears blurred in her eyes. But she wouldn’t let them spill. Crying meant Natasha won and she was done with backing down.

“We can’t keep having this conversation, Y/n,” Natasha grunted, running her fingers through her hair and tugging out the messy braid. “You know I can’t stop. This is my life, it’s what I was made to do. I can’t live without this job!”

“And I can’t live without you!” Her voice cracked and a tear slipped down but she fought the urge to wipe it, praying Natasha didn’t see. But she did see. Of course she did. The Russian noticed everything.

Natasha went silent. That was the last thing she wanted to hear. In this line of work, relying so heavily on someone wasn’t a good idea. She knew that, it had been drilled into her since she was a child. But Y/n didn’t, and that’s where she slipped up.

“Don’t say that.” Heavy emotions and Natasha Romanoff didn’t really mix well. “You have to, one way or another. You can’t just rely on me Y/n.”

“Nat, I am in love with you but lately it feels like all you care about is your job. When is it going to feel like you actually want to be here? With me?”

“I do Y/n, I do-“

Y/n dropped her head. “I know there’s a but coming.”

Natasha looked at the defeated form of her girlfriend and winced. She never thought she’d ever be in the position where she had to choose between family and her job. But she knew what her choice would be, what it always had been. Long before she even had a family.

“This job means everything to me. I didn’t choose this life, like you did, I was forced into it. It’s part of who I am, and I can’t just stop doing that to be with you.” The second those words fell from her lips Natasha knew that was the wrong thing to say.

Y/n adjusted the collar of her shirt and started to pace. If she was sitting down her leg would have been bouncing all over the place.

“What, that’s it? You’re just gonna call this whole thing off because you can’t take a break from your job?”

“What ‘whole thing’?”

“Us, Natasha! Us!” Y/n stopped in her tracks, gesturing between them both. They were on opposite sides of the room, a clear divide in space and opinion. “Unless there isn’t an ‘us’ anymore. Maybe I’m just the girl who keeps your bed warm and stitches you up in the middle of the night, no questions asked. Occasionally gives you head if you are really in the mood-“

“Stop it Y/n.”

“Stop what? It’s the truth, isn’t it? That’s all I am to you.”

“‘No, you’re so much more.” Natasha’s fingers were fidgeting with each other and they’d stumbled across a small cut on her palm that they were now playing with, the pain trying to keep her grounded. “But you have to understand that I can’t just take a step back. I love this job more than anything because I actually get to do something good with my skills that have been used for the opposite my whole life. I just need you to understand that, please!”

“You’re not gonna stop, are you?” Natasha just stared at her, chewing on her bottom lip. “No matter what, you will keep coming back here in a mess and I will keep fixing you up and we will keep having this conversation. Is there an end to this?”

“I won’t come here then.” Natasha stated simply, eyes darting momentarily to the bathroom door. “I’ll go to medical, where I should be.”

“You hate it there.”

“You hate me here.”

Y/n sighed, her breath shaky. This was the longest they’d ever fought for, and fighting Natasha was mentally exhausting. She had an answer to everything.

“I don’t hate you here, I just wish you’d fucking listen to me for one goddamn second!” Natasha nodded, almost challenging her to speak.

“I am.”

“I didn’t want to say this, but you haven’t exactly given me much of a choice. It’s me or the job, Nat. You choose. And you know what? If you choose me, you still keep half your job! But if you choose the job, you don’t get to keep half of me.” The last part sounded stupid but Natasha knew what she meant. She only had half of Y/n right now. The half that slept in her bed and fixed her wounds. If she chose her, she’d get the other half she fell in love with back.

But she couldn’t, could she? Natasha looked down, not wanting to watch Y/n’s face respond. “I’m sorry…”

“Get out.” It was barely a whisper but Natasha heard it. “Get. Out.” Y/n didn’t want Natasha to see her cry but when their eyes met again, Y/n’s were flooded with tears. She didn’t care, how could she when the green ones staring back at her were so cold. Natasha didn’t say a word, only grabbing her sweatshirt and slipping out of the room. The faint jangle of her keys sounded as the door slammed shut and only then did Y/n allow her walls to come crumbling down.

She collapsed onto the bed, only this time hugging her own pillow close as she choked out her sobs. They echoed around the room and her gag reflex kicked in from how hard she was crying. But all she could see was Natasha’s emotionless face staring back at her, not a hint of remorse visible in her eyes.

Reaching to flick off the light, Y/n caught sight of something that made her cry harder. Her bedside table hadn’t been empty for two and a half years. A single picture frame now sat there. And it was in that moment that Y/n wished it had just stayed empty.

[mischiefmaker615]

If You Think I'm Pretty

Summary: "If you think I'm pretty.. lay your hands on me..''

Rating: R

Requester: @Alex_Turner_h03 (wattpad)

Note: Inspired by the song "If You Think I'm Pretty" by Artemas

Glances were stolen, words were barely exchanged. What does this woman do to me? I once had this realm on it’s knees.. but all she does is make me want to sink to mine…

Loki always took advantage of the common area, usually using reading as an excuse just to be where she normally would show up half the time when she wasn’t out working for.. them. She was almost perfect.. perfect in every way if she hadn’t picked the side to be with those Heroes. Perfect enough to be a queen..

her fierce, independent demeanor was enough to feel himself harden, even if it wasn’t directed at him. he shifted himself to get a little more comfortable, resting the book a bit more down onto his lap to hide the obvious while she conversed with the soldier and completely ignored his presence while he watched her.

A simple conversation, a friendly one with all but him. did she hate him? there was no doubt, he didn’t exactly earn the affections of all under this roof after his actions on New York. Despite the disgust of housing with these heroes, he considered himself grateful that there was a positive side to it; what he’d give to have her.. even for but one night.

Her sharp eyes glanced towards him when her conversation was done, causing his own to fall down back to the pages while he held his breath. Hesitating, she took advantage of his adverted eyes to take in his own features before she turned and headed down the halls before he could raise his gaze back up. That’s how things were wasn’t it? stares exchanged but words were rare. Did he try? Of course, at first some sharp witted comments or even some subtle flirts he thought would capture her affections, but two things normally would happen when they did get to speak.

She would reply with a tongue more wittier than his- leaving a sly comment lost on his lips as he failed to think of something fast enough. Or, he would fail to think of what to say all together, merely stuttering as his eyes did all the talking and his cheeks would heat up when she would offer him ‘taking a picture for it would last longer’. It must be a Midgardian quote, one he would try to figure out the meaning as she would say it often before she would walk off, making him feel like a shy school boy unable to properly talk to women.

I was never like that.. I would never struggle to earn a woman’s attention, let alone get them into bed the very same night.. perhaps Midgardians were a lot more different than I thought as far as breeding goes.. she most certainly is. By gods if we could even just keep a conversation going, that would be all I could ask for if I could just live my god forsaken life here in her mere presence..

An exhale left his nostrils, frustration having his shoulders sink as he stared down at his book but didn’t even bother reading it. he was hard.. and it was distracting. He thought about retreating to his room, wanting to take care of it as he inhaled and closed his eyes. Thinking of her wasn’t helping..

His eyes reopened as he looked down the hall at the sound of a door opening and closing. He chair was fortunate to have the perfect view of the common area and able to see down the main hall where people’s sleeping quarters were. Hell, he usually woke up early to claim this spot just to see her make her way in the mornings with the cutest bed head or a ruffled over sized t shirt he was learning to appreciate. But she wasn’t the one who left her closed door now.. The Hawk was…

Upon seeing Barton leave her room, looking casual but reserved as he gave him an acknowledged glance before disappearing towards the elevators, Loki’s book snapped shut. Why would he be in her room? For what purpose did he have that he couldn’t communicate out here for with her? A strange feeling spread over Loki’s body, causing him muscles to tense and his breathing shuddered as he realized the jealous feeling he got upon seeing another male leave her room.

That just got him harder for some twisted reason- jealousy was a fuel for feral. He didn’t like it, in fact, it just enraged him as he assumed a mere mortal like Barton would be better qualified to have a night with her, than for her to pick him!

Standing up now without thinking, he used the fuel now to practically march down the hall and knock on her door before he realized what he was doing. Just a moment later, she opened the door- wearing just her casual shorts and a tank top, cleavage on display as his body tensed with restraint as he forced his eyes to lock with hers and not slip. Just upon seeing her though, his mind seemed to grow blank, a sudden shyness at her independent and in-control gaze had his body relax a little and rage forgotten as he shifted in place.

‘’may I help you?’’ she aid casually, a brow raised as if surprised to see him outside her door. His first time ever being at her door in fact.

‘’um.. actually..-‘’ he began, his mind finding it difficult to come up with a reason on why he is here now that his jealous rage is put out with seeing her. Especially while she crossed her arms, the action raising her best a bit more as she leaned on the door frame and his eyes flickered down to his hard on he clearly forgot about, causing him to inhale with a redness to his cheeks.

‘’I think we need to talk,’’ she said calmly, looking unbothered and very much in control of herself as she turned and motioned with a nod of her head to follow.

Loki hesitated, watching how her hips swayed as she walked more into her room and he slowly stepped inside, his hand closing the door behind him without his eyes leaving her form. As soon as she turned around, his eyes quickly switched back up to hers and he blurted out the first thought that came to mind.

‘’are you alright?-‘’

She raised a brow again and looked like she almost laughed as she placed her hands on her hips. ‘’what do you mean?’’

Loki held his breath, unable to backtrack from this as he kicked himself for his quick words and slow mind. ‘’I saw Barton leave your room and-‘’

‘’and.. what? I can’t have men in my room?’’ she questioned with a quiet tone, nothing indicating if she was offended or not as she slowly wanted towards with him with hands behind her back casually.

‘’that’s not- no I mean..’’ gods why is it so difficult to speak to this woman..

‘’or.. were you preferring to have a god in my room instead?’’ she questioned, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she looked up at him with just a foot apart from where he stood, his expression frozen as he looked a bit shocked at what she was referring too.

‘’are you referring to.. Th-‘’ he didn’t want his tongue to say his brother’s name, half grateful she interrupted him as his body began to tense.

‘’I know that your shitty Loki, and that your bad for me.’’ She shook her head, reminding him of his past faults as his eyes cast down to the ground when he knew she was right. He had no chance with her.. so what was all this for then as she practically teased him with her mere presence?

‘’I know..’’ he whispered, his eyes looking everywhere else but her. His eyes briefly took in the sight of her room, how little she kept out for any eye to see even if she didn’t allow anyone in here. to be honest, there was no sight that the bed was messed up to indicate any sexual activity with Barton and that made his body relax a little as his eyes slowly moved back over to hers.

‘’but I can’t stop thinking about it..’’ she whispered, somehow appearing just another step away as her chin tilted upwards to look up at him. his lips parted slightly, wanting to ask what she was referring to before her eyes flicked down at his erection that strained in his pants still. ‘’and I know how much you can’t stop thinking about it..’’ she whispered.

What was this woman doing to him.. the perfume aroma in the air almost had his eyes fluttering closed as he slowly allowed his eyes to travel down to her cleavage, almost not caring anymore at what he could look at if she was taking full advantage at staring at his bulge anyway. This was her doing.. she made him this way.. made him feel this way.. made him want her.. and yet be asked just to merely hear her say it.

‘’thinking about what?..’’ he challenged, his voice barely a whisper as he practically studied how her chest rose up and down as she breathed, how her teeth captured her bottom lip as she got even closer where he had to look down his nose to see her and his fists clenched, almost as if restraining himself as his palms itched to reach out and touch her.

‘’how much we want each other..’’ she whispered and his breath caught, seeing how smirked at every ounce of truths she held why his lips closed, having no sharp wit or denial and his jaw tightened. His eyes growing absolutely feral at her next words.

“If you think I'm pretty,.. lay your hands on me..’’

His body almost shook, as if he was fighting every ounce in himself to keep from pouncing on her, ravaging her like a wild animal as his muscles tensed in restraint.

She had given him permission.. and his eyes looked over her at a speed of eagerness as if he didn’t know where to start first at an all you can eat feast while his hands rose on their own. They started by resting at her hips, the tank top just short enough where he could slip his thumbs under the hem to stroke at her skin, and his eyes fluttered closed at the warmth and smoothness of her flesh he only dreamed at being able to touch.

He didn’t think he could possibly get harder until he felt her delicate hand rest against his bulge, his hips almost pushing forward into it on their own as his eyes fluttered open while a hand slowly ran up her back, between her shoulder blades, against her neck before he tangled his fingers into her hair.

His grip was gentle but enough to have her head tilt back while his knees bent ever so slightly so he could lean down, doing his best not to move his hips to keep her rubbing going while her lips parted with a small gasp at his grip in her locks.

His lips parted almost as his nose brushed against hers, their eyes looking at each other through hooded lids while their breaths fell short and his lips barely brushed against hers. He wasn’t sure if he was teasing her or himself, but he tested the waters as he slowly ran his tongue against her bottom hip, their lips not yet completely touching as he hesitated, seeing how she had no intent on stopping him before he finally brushed his lips firstly on hers, earning a moan from them both as it vibrated through.

In that instant, his other arm wrapped around her mid-section, pulling her closer against his while her hands ran up his chest, feeling as though his plain black shirt couldn’t have gotten any thinner before they reached around his shoulders to wrap around his neck. Her arms pulled himself more, deepening the kiss as their tongues fought for dominance while he bent to accommodate her height, only resulting in his hips backing up ever so slightly.

He wasn’t having that.

He moved forward as his hips practically chased hers while she backed up as well, feeling the strong need to push his groin against hers if only she held still. His eyes flicked briefly up to see how he was backing her up towards the bed, his pace speeding up as they stumbled back in anticipation that he would be pressed up against her. Yet in the last second of feeling the back of her legs touch the bed, she turned them both so he had fallen back onto it.

There was a light bounce as his back hit the mattress, his legs hanging off the bed where she took full advantage of climbing up on top of him while they caught their breaths with their lips parted for now.

‘’is this just sex?..’’ she whispered as his hands roamed his chest while Loki tried registering her words while he sat himself up on his elbows, enough to pull his shirt off as his movements were fast and desperate.

‘’I’m afraid darling.. I might come back more desperate and obsessed with you..’’ he breathed as her hands ran against his toned chest, her nails raking his skin and made him grown as she rubbed her groin against his own.

She was aroused, tilting her head back as she looked up to the ceiling while she rubbed her clit against his bulge, hating clothes every single moment that passed before he answered her thoughts by leaning forward and yanking her shirt up and off.

‘’I think that’s something I can live with..’’ there was a smile in her words as he sat up, his hands running up her back as he desperately touched as much exposed skin as he could while pulling her forward, his lips kissing between her breasts and what was exposed while his hand moved up to unhook her bra, skillfully one handed.

She moved her arms forward to let the straps fall down before she tossed it aside, her hands immediately flying into his hair while he took a breast into her mouth and it caused her to shiver while he moaned. The pure arousal he was giving her made her thighs tighten around hers, his lap making it impossible for her to close her legs as she bit her lip while he moved to pay equal attention to her other breast. His nails gently raked down her back, going down and gripping her hips while his pelvis every now and again would buck up with the instinct of trying to thrust into her.

He needed her..

Her hands slowly moved to his chest before she shoved him, his mouth giving a small pop from her chest before his back hit the mattress again while she moved to rest on the mattress between his legs. His breath caught, his head raising slightly to watch her as his fingers curled at the sheets under him while her’s worked to undo his belt, button and the zipper came down.

He exhaled as his head fell back, the relief of her pulling his cock out gave him a little bit more breathing room yet she didn’t have him relax for long as she stroked him slowly. His breath caught as his fists gripped the sheets, primarily to keep himself still as his body tensed while she pleasured him with her dainty hand that could barely wrap all the way around him.

‘’g-gods Y/N..’’ he breathed in short breaths, his mouth open as small moans and whimpers left his lips and his eyes fluttered to feel her warm tongue run against his tip. Gods what this woman did to him was unexplainable.. she’d say the word and he would be more than willing to do her bidding without hesitation.

‘’you’re so big..’’ she breathed, almost shuddering in her own pleasure as she opted to swaddle his leg, rubbing and grinding herself against him while she bent down to run her tongue up his cock before she placed the tip into her mouth.

His hands hesitated in the air, his eyes closed as if by any second his fingers would reach and grip her, but he remained still as he fell lost to her touch. Her tongue ran around and against his tip before she pulled more of him into her mouth. He was to large, to much for her mouth could handle but her hands handled the rest she couldn’t fit while she slowly began to bob her head up and down.

Every so slowly he reached out and his hands rested against her head, using all his might to restrain himself from gripping her hair and opted to stroking her head instead, petting her as breathless words whispered from his lips.

‘’good girl.. god’s you feel so amazing.. p-please.. don’t stop… keep going.. f-fuck..’’ all words that would leave his mouth here and there until all he could do was fall back into his foreign Asgardian language she couldn’t understand but knew he was pleased.

She smiled around his cock, unable to understand his language but found it extremely arousing all the same as she did her best to take more of his cock so he was hitting the back of her throat. His fingers curled ever so slightly into her hair, earning a moan from her throat that sent vibrations against his dick and his back arched, causing slight tears to her eyes but she kept going as his reactions spurred her on to go faster.

Her head rose as she gasped for breath, her hands taking over as she allowed herself to breath while saliva slightly fell down her lips with dick drunk eyes before she would resume with her mouth. His body began to twitch, his hips pushing up every now and again, the back of his mind sorry to have gagged her every now and again but his focus was on one thing at the moment, and she was going to give it to him as he neared his peak.

With a moan and his fingers grasping her hair to force her down a bit more, he came into her mouth and her fingers dug her nails into his thigh as she got her own orgasm in the process of humping his leg. His cock pumped and spurt as he gasped and his eyes fluttered open while he road his high, hearing her becoming a moaning mess as she quivered in her pleasure high. He finally finished, gasping for breath as she slowly rose her head off of his cock, her lips parted as she took in breaths while a smile of triumph came to her features.

His eyes gazed at her, his head slowly raising his forced strength as his arms reached for her, in which she gladly crawled to him where he could hold her against his chest, both of them covered in sweat and feeling each other’s breath slowly turn back to normal while she buried her face in the crook of her neck. He smelled heavenly, her fingers curling ever so slightly against her shoulder as if he would disappear right then and there, and her grip was the only thing to prevent him from vanishing.

Just before she thought he had fallen asleep with her own eyes slowly closing, he slowly began to roll, pushing her back so she was laying down while he moved himself to gaze down at her with his hands framing her shoulders with a mischievous look In his eyes.

‘’I do think you’re pretty..’’ he quoted her from earlier, his voice sounding like he was still catching his breath but his smirk while his hand dragged down her stomach to grip the hem of her shorts indicated he had more than enough energy to keep going.

‘’I think you are absolutely ravishing.. no more than a goddess in my eyes darling.. and if you think that me touching you is enough to prove that..’’ he whispered as his head bent down to begin to leave open mouth kissing against her neck while her hands began to shake and grip his shoulders while his other hand slipped under her shorts and underwear; a gasp leaving her lips as her back arched while his finger tips found her clit.

‘’then I am prepared to prove it to you.. all.. night.. long..’’ he purred, stroking her with every word that left his mouth. 

More Musical Mischief One Shots have been posted here ♥ just DM if you'd like to request a song one shot :D 

Tag List: @eleniblue @lokilaufeysondiaries @fire-in-her-veinz @asgards-princess-of-mischief @foxherder @liminalpebble @lokisgoodgirl

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, mentions of death, hospitals, poor writing, possible ooc,

Pt 1: New year new me, wait what?

Waking up wasn't in your cards, staring at the ceiling of a hospital room with nothing but the rhythmic beeping of machinery to welcome you to the realm of the living wasn't what you expected at all. Did you fail your mission? Did Barton and Natalia bring you back and somehow save you? Your joints ache badly, but it's nothing like what it should be, even your advanced healing can't fix a shattered skeleton.

You push yourself upright, it's surprisingly difficult and you have to take a break before pulling yourself up all the way, nausea hits you like a train and you have to take slow deep breaths so you don't puke. What meds did they have you on? Looking over yourself you take stock of everything, you're pallid and skinny, like you've been here a while. medical coma possibly?

Your head feels like it's stuffed with cotton and helium, There's multiple machines attached to you in some way, Just how bad was it if you felt yourself literally die. The room is clean, smells clean too. It's just full of medical equipment, no other beds in the room so…not the med bay? There's no windows either so you can't see what time of day it is, where did they put you? Possibly in doctor cho’s care? You see English writing on the heart rate monitor beside you so maybe not in her Korean facility…before you can start ripping tubes out of yourself the door opens, a young woman walking in with a cart behind her and her focus entirely on her phone. She shoves it in her scrubs pocket and idly glances towards you while reaching towards some cloths on the cart, she freezes like a deer staring down a semi. you try to speak but she suddenly darts out of the room while yelling for a doctor.

“stay here mx Wayne! Doctor! I need a doctor in here!” her sneakers squeak loudly on the linoleum as she leaves.

Who the hell was Wayne?

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‘*this entire board meeting is complete and utter horseshit.’* Bruce thinks to himself as he smiles tightly at his chairmen, several investors are sitting around and complaining about their lives even though the meeting isn't even over yet, and there's still policies to discuss, yet they're acting like just because they're invited guests they run the show.

It's been chaos ever since the incident, his stocks have gone up somehow, the public's reaction to this whole mess. his shareholders love it, they're like greedy sharks smelling blood, thinking he's too frazzled to know when they're trying to make moves behind his back to line their pockets. They're even throwing dates at him, as if his spouse isn't still alive. He'd nearly broken his code when Mr Smith told him to ‘line one up for when he has needs’ like he's a goddamn animal. As it stands he's been avoiding as many in person meetings as possible so he can avoid murder and jail time,

Tim keeps giving him looks for the last twenty minutes, subtly signaling to relax, smile, play dumb. He must be losing his edge if he can't even keep his poker face straight. His temple throbs as Mr Johnson opens his mouth again, If he has to hear *one* more complaint about their healthcare policies costing the company too much he's gonna -

His phone buzzes in his pocket, this time of day it's probably work related so he ignores it and starts aggressively drinking his iced coffee, he's half tempted to ‘accidentally’ spill it on Mr Smith beside him and ruin his beige suit mid speech about what is and isn't necessary to provide your employees, he's about to ignore Tim's warning look when his phone buzzes again, this time it's Alfred's notification pattern. Tim subtly shifts so he knows he got one too, Bruce fishes his phone out under the table and briefly glances at the notification tab, reads it twice, before promptly standing up and walking out without saying a word to anyone, Tim scrambling to cut the meeting short and follow him.

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A/n: has anyone wandered how much work Bruce does at Wayne enterprises? What does he actually do there?? 😅

Taglist: @cxcilla