#nat is jaws’ number one supporter

[inkblot-inc]

Jaws is perfect for the types of missions where it’s basically “we’re gonna drop you off here. Clear these buildings. Let’s us know if you need help or if you find any animals, children, or something else you need us to recover” then the rest of the strike team gets to just wait in the jet as Jaws grins and jumps out. They totally time it and whoever guesses closest to the time it takes Jaws to clear the area gets a gift card to Starbucks or something XD

Listen.

Jaws has no problem killin' and/or packin' people up.

You need a mark dealt with? Call Jaws.

Go clear out targets, next to no stipulations? It'll be like mowin' the lawn, bud.

Remember: bad guys. there was no pearly gates for 'em no-how

You already know Tony was the one to start the betting. Him and Sam being the first two to encourage it T-T. Further down the way everyone else gets in on it, even Fury put a couple bucks down a few times. Of course, Natasha has won the most bets like, "Naturally. I've seen my rybka go to work, so..."

translation:

rybka/рыбка = small fish

[fa-headhoncho]

Untitled TFATWS Fic: Part 1

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Prompt/Background: After turning yourself in to the government following the events of CA:TWS, they lock you up for the crimes you committed during your time at Hydra. Spending years there until Captain America got you on parole during the blip to help fight Thanos. Now, after doing community service acts and helping the broken society, when they give the new Captain America the shield, you’re thrown back into a life you didn’t want.

Word Count: 1871 (ahaha, yea)

Reader: Female

Warning: parole officers might be triggering??? idk

Author’s Note: I’ve decided to end my 141 part Wattpad Sebastian Stan imagine book and post on Tumblr instead :’), a happy day. Also, I’M SORRY THAT I LIKE SLOW BURN SERIES OK? Schedule for this series is every Thursday. ALSO IF YOU HAVE TITLE IDEAS FOR THIS SERIES, LMK! PLEASE

Masterlist

Part 2  Part 3  Part 4

=====

The sound of your heels echoed throughout the dimly lit room as you make your way through the exhibit. The walls take you back in time, reading how Captain America came to be and all his past accomplishments. They even updated from the last time you were here, documenting the events on the Blip.

You didn’t even know where you were going, absently letting your emotions and feet lead to where it felt you needed to be.

“For a former spy, you’re not really good at sneaking up on someone.” Rhodes’ voice greets you once you open up the curtain to a different area. A small smile sneaks its way across your face seeing the two men in front of you.

“Bit out of practice.” You spit back, walking towards them. “It’s nice to see you again, Rhodie.” You open your arms out to him and he gladly takes the hug. “Hopefully life’s been treatin’ you well.”

“For the most part,” He chuckles out while pulling away from the embrace. You move on to the other man, him happily wrapping his arms around your waist as you wrap yours around his shoulders.

Sam lets out a breath into the crook of your neck before pulling back. “You doing okay?” You ask, looking at his face for any sign of emotion. He nods but there was something in his eye that told otherwise.

You open your mouth to push him for the real answer but Rhodes cuts you off, “Well, I have to get going. It was good seeing you, (Y/L/N), hopefully, we work together soon. Remember what I said, Sam.” With that, he leaves the room to leave you and Sam alone.

The room fills with silence as the two of you turn to the iconic suit and shield in front of you. You try to watch Sam from the corner of your eye but he just stands with his back straight and his eyes forward.

“You know, I’m sure Steve would understand.” You decide to say, clasping your hands in front of you. “I didn’t become as close as you did, but from my time with him during the Blip, he tried his best to help everyone. He had a lot of responsibilities and issues of his own along with having a whole country looking up to him... 

“It was a lot… he opened to me about it one night before… you know.” You admit which makes him finally look at you. “He told me what he was going to do and all I could do is support him… I asked him what he was going to do with the mantle and he said give it to you.” Turning your head, you make eye contact with him. “I asked him if he was sure.”

He lets out a snort at that, shaking his head at you. “Really gotta do me like that?” He wipes his hand across his face then stuffs his hand in his pockets as he turns to face you. “I thought we were having a nice bonding moment and then you had to drop me like that?”

You can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips at his whining. “I’m being serious, Sam, stop.” You hit him on the shoulder. “He said there was no doubt in his mind that you do what needed to be done with the shield. He trusted you and your judgment, Falcon.” You emphasize his hero name which he just rolls his eyes at you.

“Yea, I’m sure he did.” He smiles and then changes the subject, “How’s parole treatin’ ya, still got the collar on?” He gestures to your ankle causing you to lift your dress pant leg, flashing the electric bracelet around your ankle. He lets out a hearty chuckle at it. “Still can’t believe that they have you on a leash.”

“Price you gotta pay for freedom.” You shrug and drop the cloth. There’s a beat of silence between the two of you, both of you taking a glance back at the exhibit and the shield.

“Have you talked with Bucky recently?”

“No, I was going to ask you.” Your heart sinks at the realization. “We’ve been texting a bit but I haven’t seen him since I spent the weekend with him a couple of weeks ago.” You shyly admit and look down at your feet.

“Weekend, huh?”

“Shut it, Sam.” You knock your foot against his. “We didn’t do anything, he doesn’t like me like that. Plus, he wouldn’t even let me spend the night. I had to go to a hotel, he sleeps on the floor, Sam! I’m worried about him.” It took weeks for you to convince him to let you come over and you finally knew why when you step into his apartment. It made your heart sink, it looked like if a Hydra cell got a remodel. “He has two chairs and a tv.”

“Living modestly I see.” He snorts out, covering up whatever he was actually thinking. It’s now your turn to roll your eyes at him, frustrated that he isn’t willing to talk about this. “Hey, he’s still figuring stuff out, okay? He just got all his memories back and he’s still working on living with his past. You should know better than I do to give him time.” His tone is soft as he lightly scolds you. You hang your head at his words, knowing he’s right.

It took some time for you to come to terms with your past when you turned yourself in after Hydra and SHIELD fell. You took accountability for your actions during your years at Hydra and spent a few years in jail before Steve took action to help you get on parole. That didn’t mean you weren’t fully recovered.

“When are you joining me on the field, anyway?” Sam changes the topic noticing how you went silent and your eyes looked past him. “I could use you on some of my recon missions.” 

A large smile forms on your face at the mention of your parole. “A couple more check-ins and I’m good, I think.” You excitedly inform, “They actually want to talk to me about something, and then it’s the last three months. Saving the world made my good behavior skyrocket.”

“I’m sure it did.” He smiles, “Well, let me know what happens. I’m heading down to Louisiana soon and my sisters want to meet you. She heard about your work with the soup kitchens in New York and she wanted some insight.”

“Really? Give her my number, you know I’d be happy to talk with her. I’ve been thinking about trying to get my officer to convince the big guys to expand my tracking radar so I reach out more.” You start to ramble about the ideas you’ve been having for more community service actions. During the blip, Steve got you into volunteer work and it sparked something inside of you. He said it might give you a new purpose and he couldn’t have been more right.

The two of you spend the rest of the day together, catching up on everything that’s been going on. You didn’t realize how much you missed his snarky comments and banter until he smothered you in it, “making up for lost time”, he said. He continues the bullying by texting back and forth for the next few days.

It was nice to have a friend after everything that happened over the last few years. Steve and Nat were gone so the friendships you built up during the blip were just a memory now. Yea, Bucky and you were friends but it was a bit more complicated than that.

It’s a few weeks after that and they’ve already named some prick the new Captain America. You were frustrated at Sam but you realized that he couldn’t have known that this was going to happen. Especially since when you reached out to him and he was more furious than you were. Bucky was a whole other story. When the press conference aired, he immediately called you and went off about Sam. You couldn’t offer answers so you just told him to talk to him about it. This didn’t involve you.

Now, you were sat at some random government office in DC. You were beyond nervous, leg bouncing and fingers tapping. Kevin, your sweet parole officer, had called you in for an emergency meeting. He didn’t mention anything about the content of it but he assured you not to worry. It didn’t help, though, your mind was scrambling trying to think of anything you could’ve done to break your parole or anywhere you could’ve gone that went outside your tracking radar.

“(Y/L/N)?” The familiar voice echoes through the lobby makes your head snap up. Kevin, your knight in a cashmere sweater, stands there with his hands in his pants pockets. He nods his head, gesturing for you to follow him.

He leads you down a long hallway, stopping at the end of it and holding the door open for you. You send him a grateful smile before entering the office. It was very different from his usual office. The tall windows lined the wall from floor to ceiling, making the already large room feel even more spacious. It was a bit unsettling compared to his close-knit office space located in an old house on the outskirts of DC.

Kevin moves you two to the large conference table on the other side of the room, having you sit before he does. He takes the chair at the head of the table, sighing as he opens the folder and takes a few papers out.

“Sign these.” He slides them over to you but you furrow your eyebrows in response.

“What’s going on?”

“You’re being released.” He announces, leaning back in his chair with a tight-lipped smile on his face. Your jaw drops and your heart picks up but you can’t help but question it. You quickly compose yourself and look down at the papers.

“Isn’t it a bit too early?” You ask while briefly scanning the papers. “I still have two months left, not that I’m not grateful but where is this coming from?” This was happening too suddenly, Kevin was good with warning you about the activities that go on behind the scenes of your parole and he didn’t even mention the thought of an early release.

The brunette man lets out a sigh, running his hair through his long hair. He then leans his elbows on the table with his head propped up on his palms, he opens his mouth to answer but is cut off by the office door opening.

The new Captain America and his sidekick come waltzing in, a few of his goons following as well. He didn’t need the uniform or shield for you to recognize him since his face has been plastered on every channel since they came forward with him. He’s all everyone could talk about.

“He released you.” You barely hear Kevin as your mind goes into spirals. What the hell did this guy want? Why is he even here? What the hell did he want with you?

[buckys-black-dress]

✄ chapter three: losin' grip on my doin'

a/n: okay, let's goooo! chapter 3 :) things are buildin up... get ready ;) chapter 4 will be posed tonight or tomorrow :)

wc: 4.1k

[fratboy!bucky barnes x fem!reader]

series masterlist

-

To say the least, waking up the next morning in the most coveted after playboy's bed was a shock. You wake up nestled into Bucky Barnes' side, and you wonder if this is what it felt like.

If this is what every conquest that's been brought to his room feels like when they wake up.

You're very much aware of a metal arm slung over your waist, and you feel panic rise up in your throat. Once you recognize you're fully clothed, you release a breath and feel the tension disintegrating from your body.

You can feel Bucky Barnes' heavy breaths under your head from where you're situated on his chest, and you take a moment and pause.

You would never think you'd find yourself in this situation; sidled up in bed with your university's most notorious fratboy. Someone girls and guys coveted after, and who would do anything to get in bed with him.

Yet, here you are. You don't want to admit to yourself that you quite like it here. You feel comfortable, safe. Fitted perfectly right under his arm, listening to his even breaths as you replay the night before's events in your mind like a film reel.

You meet him.

You play pong with him.

You talk to him.

You go up to his room with him.

And now you're awake in his bed. Fully clothed.

How?

Before you could ask too many questions and drown into a spiral, you hear Bucky draw in a sharp breath, signaling his awakening. You look up at him, wondering how he's going to react to you being here. Not only you being here, but also how you two woke up.

"Mornin', doll." He smiles down at you, and his morning voice sends a shiver down your spine at the raspiness.

"H-Hi." You simply say. You can't quite draw any coherent thoughts at the moment, as Bucky's arm tightens around you and draws you closer to his body.

"Sleep well?" He asks, still looking down at you fond look that makes your heart swell in your chest.

"Hm," you hum, "better than I expected, honestly." You laugh.

"Good, spent way too much on this mattress for it to not please my guests." Bucky smirks, and you get lost in his blue eyes for a moment.

But then, you think about his word choice. Guests. Plural. And although you know nothing happened between you two, you still feel a wave of shame wash over you at the notion.

Bucky's had guests in this bed before. You aren't the first girl to sleep in this bed, and you probably weren't the last.

You feel Bucky shift underneath you, seeing his expression turn to worry at the way you're clearly lost in thought.

"Everythin' alright?" He asks, and you nod quickly.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Just peachy." You give a quick smile, trying to not show how your stomach was churning at the thought of all the girls who've been here before you.

"Wanna go grab some breakfast?" Bucky asks, and you pause.

He wants to stay with me? He's not kicking me out, asking me to leave?

“Sure, uh, where did you wanna go?” You ask gently, worrying that you might scare him off, that he’s delusional right now and he doesn’t really want to spend time with you. You’re beyond confused right now.

“We can head to the diner if you’re good with that? My treat.” He says as he stands up, pulling on a shirt to avoid the chill of the room.

It’s a red henley, and the way you see his muscles straining in the sleeves of the shirt has a blush crawling up your neck.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You croak, getting out of the bed.

-

By the time you get up and get dressed, sweatpants courtesy of Bucky, and head to the diner, it’s already noon. It’s a Saturday morning, so most people are still in bed while recovering from their hangovers.

“So, how come I haven’t seen you at one of our parties before last night?” Bucky asks while you seat yourselves at a booth in the back of the diner.

“I uhm, I don’t really go out too much. Natasha basically begged me to come out, and I only did it to get her off my case and stop asking me.” You reply while taking a sip of the scalding coffee in front of you that a nice waitress poured for the two of you.

“Really? Well, I’d say you should come more often,” he gives you this smile, and your brain is short-circuiting at how handsome he looks. “You were a great pong partner.”

The emphasis on the word and his tone indicate that he was very much so being sarcastic, and you give a bashful chuckle at his words.

“Oh yeah, definitely. I have nothing on Natasha and Sam.” You laugh, and the same waitress comes by to take your orders.

Once she flutters back behind the counter to put the orders in, you’re reading a text on your phone that you felt vibrate while it was in the pocket of Bucky’s sweater you were sporting.

Natasha:

(12:08 PM) Hey, did you end up getting back safe last night? Sorry I kind of bailed, I just ended up crashing when I got to Sam’s room.

She punctuates her sentence with a face palm emoji in embarrassment, and you smile at the text.

Y/N:

(12:10 PM) Hi, I just crashed in Bucky’s room last night. No funny business tho, so don’t get any ideas in your head.

As you send off the message, you turn off your phone and place is face-down on the table, deciding you’ll deal with Nat’s freak out about you spending the night with Bucky later.

“Everythin’ okay?” Bucky’s voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you snap your eyes up to his.

“Yeah, Nat was just making sure I didn’t end up dead in a ditch last night.” You laugh, shaking your head at how dramatic your roommate could be at times.

“Hey, it’s good to know she cares about you.” He responds, and you nod at his words.

“I mean, yeah. No matter how much she might bug me about going out or getting a boyfriend, she’s still like my sister. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” A sigh leaves your mouth, thinking about Nat. She’s been there for you through everything in your life, and it was true. She was your biggest supporter, and you’re glad you have someone who cares so much for you.

“She seems like a great friend. Sam and Steve are the same for me. I mean, although I grew up with Steve, Sam was like the third brother we never even knew we needed.” He stares off into the distance with a soft look in his eyes, and you smile fondly at his words.

In that moment, you feel like you’re seeing a side of Bucky that not many people get to see. This is Bucky, a guy from Brooklyn who’s just trying to get by in college. Not a man-whore, or a guy who just wants to ge his dick wet like everyone says.

Before you could come up with a response to what he’s said, the same lady comes and places your hot food in front of the both of you, leaving with a ‘enjoy!’ before she whirls away again.

You eat while making small talk, just about life, school, and hobbies. Before you know it, Bucky asks for the check, and even though you know he said he’d pick it up earlier, you still fight him on paying for half the bill.

In the end, Bucky becomes so frustrated with your antics that he simply gets up and hands the waitress his card, and you simply watch with a dropped jaw at his actions.

“You didn’t have to do that!” You exclaim, albeit quietly, but enough to show your frustration.

“Doll, I’m treating you to brunch. Just let me.” Is all Bucky says, effectively shutting you up.

-

On your walk back to campus, Bucky asks what you’re doing for the rest of the day, asking if you wanted to come back to his room.

“I should head back, Natasha’s probably waiting for me with a million questions.” You bashfully look up to your window from the bottom of your dorm building.

“Oh, okay doll.” Bucky wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an unexpected hug. You feel your body tense at the action, but once you realize what’s happening, you relax again, letting yourself melt into his body.

“See ya later?” He asks with a raised brow.

“Uh, yeah. I don’t know what I’ll be doing later, but we can talk later.” You smile up at him, slowly moving out of his grip and towards the door.

Before you could fully open the door, you hear Bucky’s voice call out to you one more time.

“Y/N, wait!” He yells, jogging over to you at the door. “Can I uh, get your number? So I can text you later?” He asks, his metal hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“O-Oh, sure! Yeah!” You reply a bit louder than you had intended, just out of pure shock at his question.

You open a new message on your phone, allowing Bucky to type in his number and save his contact. Once he hands the device back to you, you see his name saved as Bucky Barnes <3.

Before you can say anything about the heart he added himself, he pecks your cheek and runs off, with a distant ‘I’ll see ya later, doll!’

You essentially float up to your room, not feeling like you were on the planet right now. You felt like you were up in the clouds, unaware of your own actions. You unlock the door to your room, and Natasha is perched upon her bed, looking down at two outfits she has held up against her form.

“Hey! You didn’t answer my messages, you little bitch! Tell me everything!” She turns around at the sound of you entering, already berating you.

But it all sounds muffled in your ears, not fully comprehending what she was saying to you.

“Hey, you okay? Earth to Y/N?” The redhead says again, waving a hand in front of your face at your spacey expression.

“I-I, yeah, I’m fine. Just… shocked.” You breathe out.

“So? Tell me what happened!”

At first, you could barely get the words out of your mouth, trying to explain everything that occurred in the past 24 hours. You get through the story, a little bit challenged at trying to organize your thoughts, but eventually you get Natasha up to speed.

“So… you didn’t have sex with him?” Your roommate says, and you shake your head no.

“Nat, you know how I feel about having sex. I don’t want to rush into it, and I don’t want my first time to be with some… random guy from a frat. I want it to be with someone I trust, someone I’m comfortable with.” You tell her like a broken record, because over the course of the time that you’ve been friends with Natasha, you’ve had this conversation with her several times. Sometimes, you wondered why she was so hellbent on you losing your virginity.

As much as you loved her and understood her intentions with the question, you were getting tired of having to defend yourself every time.

“I- I know! I just… I want you to be happy, with whoever you want. I never want you to think I’m rushing you though, Y/N. I love you.” Natasha explains, putting her hand on your arm in consolation.

“I know, Nat. But trust me, you’ll be the first to know when I do… do it. Don’t worry.” You laugh at how ridiculous you sounded.

She’s looking back down at her bed now, looking between the outfits she was holding earlier.

“Okay… now, help me pick an outfit! Sam wants to go on a date tonight!” She says, showing you the different options.

As you two banter and talk about last night, you interrupt Natasha’s tirade about Sam and ‘what a gentleman he is!’

“Bucky gave me his number earlier.” Saying it out loud makes it sound all the more ridiculous. You feel like a high-schooler at your words, and the way Natasha stops all movement makes you feel all the more insane.

“His number?” She asks, like she couldn’t figure out what to really say.

“Yeah. He even saved a heart next to his name in my phone. What does that even mean?” You wonder out loud, and now you’re sure you’ve gone crazy.

“I… I’m not sure. I think he likes you.” She says nonchalantly, and you scoff.

“Yeah, because Bucky Barnes is very interested in a girl he met last night who didn’t want to sleep with him. He must be going crazy over a girl like me.” You finish with an incredulous laugh, like it never even crossed your mind that he could like you.

“Well… he acted very different from you’ve been telling me. He usually just fucks a girl and she leaves the next morning, nothing more, nothing less. The fact that he didn’t fuck you and took you out to brunch says a lot about this whole situation.” She explains, and you’re still having a hard time grasping this information.

Just as you’re about to find a rationale as to why her explanation isn’t plausible, you feel your phone buzz.

With furrowed brows, you open your texts.

Bucky Barnes <3:

(2:01 PM) Hey doll, do you wanna come by to another party we’re having tonight? Could use my trusty pong champ ;)

Your mouth dries at the message, words lodged in your throat.

“Look what he just texted me.” You flip your screen to Nat and she reads with an unreadable expression, which quickly turns into her brows shooting up.

“A winky face! Y/N/N, he fucking likes you! He wants to see you again!” She exclaims, and you don’t even know what to say.

“How do I respond?” You feel so unexperienced, asking your roommate for advice on how to text a guy.

“Here, gimme,” she snatches the phone out of your grasp, quickly typing something and handing the phone back to you.

You read what she sent with wide eyes.

Y/N Y/L/N:

(2:11 PM) I’ll be there ;) Should I bring clothes to change into for tonight?

“Nat! Why would you say that? You’re making it sound like I wanna have sex with him tonight!” You rise up from your spot on her bed in a panic, pacing the area of your small room.

“Y/N, relax! He-” Before she could finish, your phone buzzed again.

Bucky Barnes <3

(2:13 PM) Hilarious, doll. You don’t have to, but if you wanna crash here again tonight, you can definitely bring your own stuff if that makes you more comfy :)

“Oh my God. He’s so sweet!” Nat giggles, covering her mouth with her hand. “You have to go now!”

“Nat… doesn’t this look a little… suspicious? From what I’ve heard, this isn’t how he usually acts.” You say wearily, the worry clear in your tone.

“Y/N, look at me.” Natasha's hands come to the sides of your head, urging your gaze to meet hers. “You’re a great girl. You deserve someone who treats you well and gets excited to see you, like Bucky is right now. Don’t push him away. You deserve something good.”

At her words, your eyes soften and you feel the distant sting of tears behind your eyes. You give her a nod, not knowing how to express your gratitude to her in words at the moment. She pulls you into a hug and you hold her tight against you, like she might disappear if you let go.

“Now, we need to get you ready for tonight. You’re gonna make Bucky wish he fucked you.” Natasha smirks an evil one.

“Nat!”

-

The party was in full swing upon your arrival. You were all alone when you walked through the doors of the fraternity house, as Natasha had gone on her dinner date with Sam. She’d promised she’d come by after dinner, and you were practically shaking while searching for Bucky in the packed house.

There were people everywhere, and the longer it took for you to find Bucky, the more anxious you were becoming about being here.

“Y/N!” You hear distantly, and your head whips around in search of the owner of the voice.

You feel a hand slide around your waist, and you smell Bucky before you see him. If it weren’t for the distinct smell of his cologne and mint, you would’ve slapped the hand away long ago.

“Hey! Been wonderin’ when you’d show up.” Bucky has a smile on his face, showing off his pearly whites.

“Sorry, I got held up at home with Natasha.” You tell him, looking around at the crowd. You could feel your breathing shorten at the sheer amount of people around you, and your stomach churns in anxiety.

As if Bucky senses your discomfort, he rubs the hand on your waist along the expanse of your back.

“You okay?” He asks, visibly concerned at your demeanor.

You nod wordlessly, trying to make it seem like you weren’t extremely stressed right now. You would’ve loved to let loose tonight, but yesterday was already pushing it in terms of going out.

“Do you wanna head upstairs?” Bucky asks in clear concern at your demeanor right now. He feels a wave of guilt wash over him. If he knew just how much you were going to become uncomfortable by just being here tonight, he wouldn’t have asked you to come. He would’ve simply asked you on a date, or done a night in with you.

You nod again, not allowing the words to leave your throat. You feel as though your mouth is full of cotton, not even being able to form any coherent thoughts at the moment.

Bucky’s cool metal arm guides you by your lower back to the stairs, and you’re once again reminded of the previous night. His cool metal hand is the only thing grounding you at the moment, and you think you would’ve ended up on the dirty bathroom floor downstairs in a puddle of tears if Bucky had taken any longer to find you.

You pass through his doorway, and Bucky’s arm is holding you against him as the door shuts behind you two.

He wordlessly caresses you, running a soothing hand up and down your back, which is partially open because of your outfit. You’re wearing a dress from Natasha’s closet, which she claimed made you look ‘hotter than the motherfucking sun, Y/N’, and you were basically forced into.

“For what it’s worth, honey, you look stunning tonight.” You feel Bucky’s chest rumble from his speaking from where you’re placed against him, and you give a light laugh.

“Thanks,” you return quietly, unable to really come up with anything witty to say. “I’m sorry I’m ruining tonight for you.” Your voice comes after a few moments of silence, but suddenly you’re pulled away from his body.

“Hey,” his hands are on your shoulders, “you are not ruining anything, doll. Parties ’ll come and go, but I don’t want to do it if it isn’t with you.” He tells you in earnest, and you feel an indistinguishable ache in your chest at his words.

Where did this man come from? It seems as though the perfect guy, one who respects you, one who doesn’t force you into anything, one who seems to care too much about you has just... fallen into your lap.

It almost seems too good to be true.

“Bucky…” You trail off, unable to find any words of gratitude at the moment.

“Yeah, doll?”

“Can we just… lay down? Maybe watch a movie?” You ask.

“Of course we can, honey. Anythin’ you want.” He smiles brightly again as your mood seems to lighten a bit. “Do you need a change of clothes?”

“Yes, please. If you don’t mind.” You can’t really bring yourself to look at him. You feel embarrassed that you’ve pulled him away from his own party. Although he constantly reassures you that he doesn’t mind, you’re still bashful.

“Here, honey,” he hands you the same garments from last night, “you look good in these.” He laughs, and you feel your cheeks turn bright red.

“I- I’ll be right back.” You give a tight smile and retreat to the bathroom.

While Bucky waits outside, he begins to get lost in his thoughts. He liked you. A lot. How did he get himself into this mess? He’s not stupid. He knows what he did to get here. And now it was looking really, really, stupid.

Unfortunately, there was no getting it out of it now, though. He could try and reason with the person he’d made a promise to, but he was stubborn. There was little to no chance he would be able to get out of this one.

But he thinks of it on the flip side. He’s been seen bringing you up to his room two nights in a row, and he knows how it makes both of you look.

For him, he looks like he’s keeping up with reputation.

Take a girl home.

Fuck her.

Leave it at that.

No one quite knew you on campus except for your friends, so they weren’t worried about you or who you were.

All that mattered was that Bucky Barnes was keeping up with his usual antics that were expected of him. There was nothing out of the ordinary for him, other than the fact that he wasn’t actually fucking you.

Bucky snaps out of his train of thought when he hears the bathroom door click open, his eyes meeting yours once again.

But his eyes quickly divert to your body, once again covered by his baggy clothing. You were watching his stare move down your body and felt a wave of insecurity wash over you.

You probably weren’t half as gorgeous as the girls he’s brought back here before. You knew what kind of girls guys like him preferred. Long, cascading hair, big, bright eyes, thin waists, legs that went on for what seemed like miles.

You just weren’t that.

It made you come back to the thoughts that had plagued your mind previously.

Where did Bucky’s interest in you come from?

Why was he suddenly feel the need to coddle you, take care of you, to reassure you?

Your concern was quickly washed away when Bucky settled in his bed, patting his spot next to him under the covers.

“You comin’?” He asks in a raspy, quiet voice that makes your knees wobble.

You don’t say anything while you situate yourself beside him.

“Bucky, can I ask you something?” You begin meekly, not making eye contact with him.

“Anythin’, doll. Somethin’ wrong?” He looks down at you in a worried gaze, and you shake your head.

“I just… what made you want to approach me? I- I know I’m not like those other girls you’ve been with before, and I can’t help but think that you… you want something else from me?” You explain with little ease. You feel bile rising in your throat as you speak because you can’t bear to think that Bucky really ulterior motives for all this time you’ve spent together.

You’ve only just met him, yet you feel like you’ve known him forever. You’re comfortable with him, more than you usually would be with a stranger, and it freaks you out.

“Y/N… can you look at me?” Bucky tilts his head down to try and meet your eyes, which is something you can barely do at the moment. “I want you to know, before this goes anywhere else; you are an amazing girl. I don’t know why it took me so long to talk to you, but I think you’re one the most genuine, kind, beautiful girls I’ve ever met. I… I know I have a reputation that precedes me, but you… you’re different.” He speaks so genuinely to you that you feel a slight sting behind your eyes.

“I… I never want you to doubt yourself ever again, doll. You’re perfect, just as you are. I’m sorry it looked like I was after anything else before.” Bucky finishes, and you can’t seem to find any words at the moment.

You just nod fervently, and then you feel yourself being pulled into Bucky’s large arms.

“Please, don’t let anyone make you doubt yourself again. You’re worth it.”

That night, you fall into the most comfortable and deep sleep of your life, wrapped safely in Bucky’s arms.

[wicked-mind]

Betrayed: Chapter Four

Summary: Everybody thought Steve’s sister had passed away decades ago. But when you show up at the facility and try to attack Bucky, there are questions to be answered.

Word count: 5.5k

Warning: A bit of violence, talk of kidnapping and torture, talk of surgery, a hint of PTSD

Series Masterlist

All Writings Masterlist

NOTE: I would like to thank everybody for your support. As I previously said, this is the first time posting creative writing on any platform. As a thank you, I’ll be releasing two chapters today (3/19/21). Again, any feedback is appreciated. Enjoy (:

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Chapter Four- I Guess We Can Be Friends

The rest of the team returned finally. A smile returned to Y/N’s face after seeing her brother and Wanda after the week. Steve made sure to get a run down of everything that happened in his absence from Clint and Bucky. Hearing of her nightmares, the voice she heard, and the progress her and Bucky had made. Steve and Bucky both exchanged the word ‘progress’ again with a smile. The chip they had recovered was protected, they couldn’t access the information on it right away, having to do some deep digging.

Steve found his sister chatting with Wanda, filling her in on everything that had happened. Y/N talked to Wanda about her nightmares and how Bucky was the one who woke her from them. She told her friend about how she heard the voice in her head, to which Wanda looked concerned. With Y/N’s permission, she could look to see if there was something else in her head, but she would wait for that until Y/N was ready for that. Steve entered the room with a light knock, smiling at Y/N.

“I’m all caught up on things that happened while we were away.” Steve told his sister, with a small comforting smile, “We recovered your chip still in tact. We are trying to get into it the information on it.”

Y/N nods, then looks at Wanda, “I need you to do it. Look in my mind and see if there is someone else.” She said, to which Steve and Wanda both looked shocked, “Please Wanda, I can’t sit here and wait to see if he starts whispering again. I have to know if it is real or if it’s me slowly going insane.” She whispered the last part.

“Don’t you think we should wait for a little bit? At least until we see the information on the chip?” Steve asked, concern in his voice. He didn’t want to push his sister into anything that could more damage her fragile state.

Y/N looked from her brother to Wanda, nodding, “Do it.” She demanded.

They gathered in the medical bay, allowing Y/N to lay on one of the beds. Wanda positioned herself behind her friend’s head, looking to her for permission. Y/N nodded and closed her eyes. The whole team watched closely, besides Natasha who had already left to go to the prison. Bucky and Steve had concerned looks on their face about this. Wanda positioned her hands on either side of Y/N’s head, red glowing from her fingers. For a moment, it was silent as Wanda searched, before she drops her hand, looking up to Steve with wide eyes, “There’s someone in there.. I can’t tell who but he is definitely the cause of the whispers. It’s has the same energy as Y/N, but it’s darker, stronger.” Wanda said gently, then looking at Y/N’s face. For a moment, Y/N looked relieved that she wasn’t going insane or being haunted by ghosts. But then worry came across her face as she realized something else was pulling strings in her head.

Bucky shifted uncomfortably on his feet, feeling useless. He couldn’t protect Y/N from the voice in her mind. He had the instincts to protect Y/N from anything and everything. He was determined to find this owner of this voice in her head, make it stop.

“We will wait to see what Natasha figures out.” Steve broke the silence, walking over and helping his sister up from the table. He looked down at her and offered a smile, to which one was returned up to him.

When Natasha was able to get into the information on the chip, she gathered the team to share her findings. She waited for them all to be seated around the circular table before beginning, “The chip showed what Y/N told us. It was used to send direct orders to her no matter where she was in the world. We are still working on downloading the information of where she went and what she did.” Natasha paused, “It also had a second function. It was blocking out some other transmission to her brain. I would guess it was keeping away the whispers that Y/N is now hearing. We aren’t sure what is causing the whispers or why it was important for Hydra to keep them out.” She paused, before looking at the rest of the team, “We don’t know how dangerous these whispers are. There was a reason Hydra wanted them blocked out. They could pose an immediate threat. The safest option would be to keep Y/N in the detention center until we know more.”

Y/N had snuck to listen outside the room. She was very quiet, and could get away very quickly if necessary. She, after all, was trained for things like sneaking around and gathering information without being seen, among other things.

The room fell silent as the team processed what Natasha was proposing to them, “We can’t do that to her.” Steve told the team, “She hasn’t been a threat to any of us since the first night. If we put her in one of the detention cells, it’ll show we don’t trust her and think she’s dangerous. Y/N is just trying to get back on her feet. She doesn’t want to hurt any of us.”

“I don’t trust her. That’s the issue.” Natasha countered, “If those whispers are dangerous, she can snap at anytime and turn on any of us. If she bites one of us and flees, that’s the end of it. Someone will die. We have to take necessary precautions.”

Bucky glared at Natasha for this idea, his jaw clenched, “You can’t do that to Y/N.” He repeated Steve’s words, “She dug herself out of a grave she was meant to stay in, took the chip out, and found us for help. She just wanted to see her brother again.” He said, “She attacked me for a reason. I have forgiven her. She’s not a threat unless we treat her like one or give her a reason to feel threatened.” He paused, taking in a deep breath, eyeing everybody else in the meeting, “If we force her into a cell, we are no better than how Hydra forced her into that coffin. She will break down as it reminds her of the things she went through. You break that trust, we won’t get it back. Any of us.” He said, looking to Steve, then Clint, and to Wanda who was nodding her head in agreement.

Wanda cleared her throat before speaking, drawing the attention to herself, “Y/N is not a current threat to anybody. I’ve seen in her mind, but more importantly I’ve spent almost every day with her. She just wants to live and be happy. Her mind is full of good. She’s a good person of which horrific things have happened to. Y/N doesn’t deserve to be punished for something she hasn’t done yet. I can keep an eye on her mental state, let us have an early warning if the whispers come back stronger.” Wanda watched the others as they slowly nodded in agreement to what she was saying.

“I have part of a solution.” Clint finally spoke, his arms crossed as he sat in his chair leaning back, “She doesn’t pose a threat now. I’ve trained with her more than anybody, she knows how to hold back. She has self control. But, just in case, why don’t we keep some of her blood in stock in case she does snap and bites one of us?”

Steve nodded, “I think that’s the best idea. We will get her to donate some blood to us for emergencies. She will understand and want to help. She doesn’t want to hurt any of us, she will want us to have the cure.” He looked at Bucky for a moment, before looking to Natasha who shook her head, knowing she was out numbered, “For now, we keep an eye on her. Help her. If something happens, we will discuss it.” He said in a tone that everybody knew meant the conversation about locking Y/N away was over. He sighs, slowly standing, “On another note, the annual fundraising gala is tomorrow. Everybody pick a charity of your choice before the party.” Natasha folded her arms, looking at Steve, “You really think the gala is the best idea right now?”

“Of course. We have been walking on eggshells for six months, putting all our focus on unraveling this mystery. We need a break. Thor is already coming in, and the guests have already sent in their RSVP. They’re expecting it. ” He said, knowing he was just irritating and pushing the limits with Nat, who had now exited the room in a hurry, “I guess that concludes our meeting.”

Y/N listened, she took a deep breath, then started chewing on her bottom lip. When they started speaking of the gala, she left. She knew when her brother used that tone it was end of discussion with her situation. She swiftly made it back to her room, sitting on her bed, pulling a magazine onto her lap. She just flicked the pages, not reading it at all. She was thinking about what was said in the team’s discussion. What Natasha said, about locking her away. Maybe that was for the best, she didn’t want to be a threat. She didn’t want to hurt anyone else. But listening to what Steve and Bucky said, they were right. The way Bucky talked about how she would break, he was right. She couldn’t keep herself under control if she was locked away, isolated. It would just be more proof that she was who she thought she was, a hopeless killer.

Y/N heard Wanda approaching and focused back on reading the magazine. Wanda came in beaming with a smile, “Up, up, up, get up!” She said, pulling Y/N by her hands to her feet.

Y/N smiled and laughed, letting her pull her to her feet, “What are we doing now?” She asked, happy to have a best friend like Wanda. She brought joy into Y/N’s life, someone she can be herself around.

“We are going shopping, where’s your shoes?” Wanda said as she searched around the room before throwing the black combat boots at Y/N, how caught them with ease, “The gala is tomorrow and we need to find some dresses.”

Y/N put her shoes on quickly, excited to go out and spend the day with Wanda shopping. She hadn’t got to leave the facility that much, she was excited to see what the world offered her today. Plus it would be nice to get her mind off of what she learned listening to the meeting.The two walked out the front of the facility, Wanda spinning the car keys in her hand. Y/N looked back at the facility, seeing Natasha watching her through the window, before getting in the black BMW with Wanda, “What’s Nat’s issue today?” She asked, curious of what the reply would be.

Wanda waved her hand as if to say forget about it, “Oh don’t worry, that’s just her face. She has RBF. Some days it flares up more than others.” She joked, putting the key in the ignition and speeding down the driveway towards town. On their dress mission, they talked about things. Wanda asked Y/N to tell her if she started hearing whispers again, that it was very important to let her know to which Y/N nodded, promising her best friend. Then they talked about something Wanda always wanted to talk about. Bucky. Wanda knew Y/N’s feelings about him, the good and the bad ones. Lately the better ones have been taking over and replacing those bad memories. Wanda was determined to help replace those memories, for Y/N’s sake and Bucky’s. She knew Bucky still had strong feelings for Y/N, it was hard not to keep out his thoughts when they screamed so loudly for Y/N. And she also knew that Y/N still had those lovey-dovey feelings for Bucky, just maybe a litter deeper down.

THE NEXT NIGHT

Wanda was helping Y/N get ready for the gala, already done getting herself ready. This was Wanda’s favorite event the team held. They got to dress up all fancy and let loose in their own home. There was no shop talk, just fun. Wanda slowly ran the curling iron through Y/N’s blonde hair, curling the ends perfectly so they would bounce as she walked. Wanda was already dressed and ready. As she finished up Y/N’s hair, she smiled, placing the curling iron down, “Don’t touch that.” She warns, not wanting her friend to get burned. Y/N nodded, looking at herself in the mirror. She was all dolled up for this event.

Wanda smiled, putting on her heels, “I’ll meet you out there.” She said, heading for the door, before looking back at Y/N who was still looking at herself in the mirror, “C’mon Y/N, get dressed. Chop chop!” She said and then disappeared out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Y/N tore her eyes away from herself. Her eyelashes were darkened with mascara and her lips were red from a lipstick she borrowed from Wanda. She looked very similar to how she did when she was taken by Bucky. She had curled her hair, put on red lipstick, excited to meet him for their date that never happened. The memory was painful, but she thought about the things Bucky had done for her. He was patient, kind. He helped her through break-downs. He said all the right things. He was being the Bucky she remembered and wanted. She decided she would be open to giving him another chance, being more accepting of him. The only way she would know for sure is if she let him in a little bit. She slowly stood, walking over to the closet and pulling her dress out. Wanda had helped pick it out. Y/N was a little reluctant, the style of dresses had changed since the last time she had worn one. When did they become so revealing? Y/N slipped off the robe she was wearing to get ready, placing it on her bed. She slipped the black dress on. It fit her curves perfectly, although maybe a little tight, “God how do people breathe in these.” She said, flattening out the scrunched lines as she walked in front of the mirror. The dress was jet black, flowing to the floor. There was a slit up the side to show off her pale leg, a little too high if you asked Y/N but Wanda assured her it was the style. It had sleeves that draped over her arms, a small dip in the front but not too revealing. She lifted her hand to her shoulders, her fingers brushing against the silver scars from a past life. She didn’t remember how she got the ones that looked like bites, but there were many of them that were hidden by the view of this dress. She slipped on her black heels, wishing she could just wear her boots. But Y/N knew Wanda would just drag her back to the room to put the shoes on. Y/N gave herself one final glance in the mirror. The dress was beautiful, she was beautiful. Even with the red eyes that seemed to glow. She turned and made her way out of her room and to where the party was being held.

As she entered, Wanda immediately was at her side, handing her a glass of dark wine which Y/N accepted immediately, taking a small sip. The lounge was decorated beautifully and filled with people who were all dressed up also. Steve was sitting at the bar with Bucky and Sam, laughing. He noticed his sister’s arrival and quickly walked over to greet her.

“You look beautiful, Y/N.” Steve said, giving her a quick hug, “I’m glad you decided to come. It’ll be fun.” He promised.

“Yeah I didn’t get to really decide.” Y/N laughed, looking at Wanda, “I’m pretty sure she would’ve dragged me down here, I figured it was easier to come willingly.”

Steve chuckled, giving Wanda a thankful smile, “It’ll be great, don’t worry about anything. Tonight is all about fun.” He said, placing an encouraging hand on his sister’s shoulder, before getting pulled away by some men who seemed excited to have a conversation with the Captain America. Steve figured a Y/N needed some fun. It had been all serious since she came back that she hasn’t really gotten to live.

Y/N and Wanda walked around, introducing themselves to guests and sharing stories. Well, Wanda was doing the sharing. Y/N didn’t have any stories to share, just listened and laughed as she met all the new people. All of them were very nice, and not too intrusive.

Bucky had noticed Y/N as soon as she walked in. He about spit up his drink by how beautiful she looked. He wondered if this is what she would’ve looked like for their date that never happened. It made his heart jump thinking about it. He watched Steve go up to her, a little jealous that he was just able to approach her so easily. He watched her throughout the night, staying at the bar. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. Y/N was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He watched her laugh, envying the wine glass she kept bringing to her lips. It reminded him of the one kiss they shared. He cherished that memory of them. Her lips were so soft against his. He wanted that feeling again but knew it was out of his grasp.

At some point, Bucky lost track of Y/N in the crowd. His eyes scanned all the faces in the room, looking for her. He stood up when he saw she wasn’t with Wanda. They had been together the whole night, but now they weren’t. He pushed through people, apologizing and saying excuse me as he searched for Y/N, before turning to look out a window. She was standing out on the lawn alone, her head tilted up to the sky. He immediately made his way out there, wanting to make sure she was alright. He shut the door quietly and approached Y/N, smiling.

“Y/N?” He said, wanting to give her a heads up he was approaching, “Everything alright?” He asked as he stood beside her.

“Oh, hi. Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” She said, looking over to him with her red eyes. She noted how handsome he looked. He was wearing an all black suit, his hands in his pockets. She returned her gaze up to the stars, a soft smile on her red lips, “Just needed some air. I got distracted by the stars. They’re beautiful.”

Bucky kept his eyes on her face, “Yeah.. Beautiful.” He said, not talking about the stars. He examined her face. She was smiling, and her expression was nothing but happiness. He loved seeing her like this- happy. It’s what she deserved.

Y/N looked back to Bucky, noticing he was still staring at her, knowing he wasn’t calling the stars beautiful. She turned towards him, her red eyes meeting his crystal blue ones. She smiled softly, her red lips curving, before she looked down at her almost empty glass of wine, “Buck…” She said softly, as if ashamed, “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. And… you know.. biting you,” She gestured towards the scar on his neck, biting her lip before continuing, “I know that wasn’t you. They were in your head like they were in mine.” She was just now realizing it had been god knows how long since she drank and she may be a little tipsy.

Bucky shook his head at her apology, his hand leaving his pocket as he touched her arm, “Hey, don’t. It’s fine. Your last memory of me was taking you to them. I understand. I probably would’ve had the same reaction. It hasn’t changed the way I see or feel about you, darling. I know who you are. You don’t have to apologize for your trauma.” He said softly, smiling at her.

Y/N lifted her head again to meet his gaze. His skin on hers felt almost electric. It made her skin crawl, her hairs standing up. She nodded, her eyes looking around Bucky, anywhere but his face. Hearing him call her ‘darling’ made her body feel warm. She felt like her heart was racing. She finally looked at his face. She could tell he had just cut his hair recently, probably to look nice for the gala. He looked just like the Bucky she knew. When she arrived his hair was longer, but now his hair was shorter, those blue eyes watching her, a small grin on his face. She took a small step towards him, “Since all is forgiven…” Y/N said, her eyes keeping contact with his, “I suppose that means we can be friends.”

Bucky’s grin only widened as she took a step towards him, his eyes never leaving her face. He was observing every move she made. Everything about her was extraordinary. As she spoke the words he had long waited for her to say, he felt as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders, “I would love that.” He replied, “That means we can do friend stuff, right?” He said, talking a small step closer to her, his hand still on her arm, “Like go for coffee, watch movies, have dinner sometime?” He said softly, hoping he wasn’t overstepping with her.

“Hot chocolate,” She corrected, “Not coffee.” She smiles, her eyes watching his as he stepped closer, she bit her lip slightly, her focus moving from his eyes to his lips.

Bucky chuckled at her response, “Hot chocolate with caramel.” He responded, remembering it was her favorite. He knew she didn’t like coffee, but she loved hot chocolate. He was locked onto her eyes that looked at him from underneath her long, dark lashes. He looked at her lips for a moment, wondering if he should move in closer. He felt as if she was giving him all the signals, even flirting back with him. She hadn’t denied him. He leans his face in closer to hers slowly, watching for any reaction, which to his surprise didn’t come.

Instead, a different surprise happened. A flash of light separated the two quickly. When the light faded, Y/N noticed a circle emblem on the ground, but then noticed the man standing in the middle of it. He had short blonde hair, was tall and muscular. He held a large axe in his hand.

“Great timing, Thor. Good to see ya. You’re late.” Bucky said, obviously a little annoyed that the moment between Y/N and himself was ruined.

“Barnes! Good to see you.” Thor replied, placing a pat on Bucky’s back. He was smiling ear to ear, obviously excited about the event, “Who’s your friend?” He said turning to Y/N.

Y/N smiled, “Y/N Rogers.” She said, her red eyes studying him. She had read about him and heard all the stories.

Thor looked at Y/N confused for a moment, “Steve got married? I wasn’t invited?” He said, almost hurt looking.

“No..” Both Y/N and Bucky said at the same time, both laughing a little bit, “I’m his sister.”

Thor looked relieved, before smiling, “Oh yeah, I see the resemblance now. Besides the red eyes, that’s extremely interesting.” He said, point at his own eyes as he talked about hers. Noticing he made her slightly uncomfortable with the comment, he continued, “Well, I better go in and say hello.” He said, walking passed the two and into the party.

Y/N looked back at Bucky, laughing a little at what just happened. It was a little awkward and embarrassing, but the timing was funny to her.

Bucky smiled as she laughed, “So uhm…” He chuckled out, watching her closely, “More wine?” He said, motioning towards the almost empty wine glass still in her hands.

Y/N shook her head, smiling, “Oh no, I’m good. It’s been forever since I’ve had a drink. Tonight I’m a one and done type of girl.” She said, nodding as she told herself this. She was already a little tipsy, she didn’t want to press her luck, “We should head back in though. My feet hurt and there’s some left over pasta in the fridge that’s calling my name.” She said, turning and starting to head back inside. Bucky followed her close behind, smiling to himself. She was treating him like a friend, maybe even more than a friend. She was talking to him like she had growing up. It was exciting to him. It reminded him of a simpler time. He followed her up the stairs to the kitchen in the living quarters, watching as she heated up her food in the microwave. Y/N grabbed a fork, turning to see him still there, “I’m gonna eat this in my room then go to bed.” She said, smiling a little.

Bucky nodded, “I’ll walk you.” He said, even though it was right down the hallway. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with her, just in case this was a dream he was going to wake up from soon. He joined her as they walked down the hall, stopping at her door and opening it for her.

Y/N slipped into the room and placed her food on the desk before turning back to Bucky who was still standing there like a dream, waiting for her. She approached him, smiling, “Thank you.” She said softly, She reached her hand out and touched his arm, still smiling up into his eyes, “Good night, Bucky.”

Bucky grinned at her touch, “Anytime, doll. Good night.” He said happily, accepting the fact this would be the end of their night together, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Tonight was perfect to him. He turned to return back to the party down the stairs. Nothing could bring him down tonight.

Y/N smiled at the pet name, giving his face once last glance, before shutting the door. She smiled to herself. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time. She felt undeniably happy. There was no negativity creeping in at all. She quickly kicked off the heels and changed out of her dress into some sweats and a tank top, hanging the dress back up in her closet. She grabbed her pasta and sat on her bed, turning on the tv. It didn’t take long for her to finish her food, placing the now empty food box in the trash before curling up in bed, falling asleep.

Thor had made his way around saying hello to everybody, before returning back to Steve who was now with Bucky at the bar, “You didn’t tell me you have a sister,” He said to Steve, holding a mug of beer in his hand.

“It never came up.” Steve said, smiling at his friend.

Thor shrugged, “Would’ve been nice to know. The red eyes are very interesting.” He mentioned, taking a large drink of her beer, “Is she otherworldly?”

Steve shook his head, “No, she was a Hydra experiment.” He informed, looking uncomfortable by this conversation.

Thor nodded, taking note of the buttons he seemed to be poking on Steve, “That’s unfortunate, I’m sorry.” He said, placing a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder, “Oh, and sorry for ruining your moment.” He said to Bucky.

“Moment?” Steve asked, looking from Thor to Bucky, “There was a moment?”

Bucky said silent for a moment, before speaking, “It’s alright, Thor. Y/N and I were just talking.” He said.

Thor looked from Bucky to Steve, “Right… Talking. That’s definitely what I saw.” He said with a smile, “I think I need another.” He said as he looked at his now empty mug, before walking away.

Steve watched Thor leave, before looking around the gala, “Where is Y/N?” he said, realizing he hadn’t seen his sister in a while, and after hearing about the potential ‘moment’ he wanted to make sure she was alright.

“She went to bed, I walked her up.” Bucky said, to which Steve looked at him, eyebrows raised, “She said we could be friends again.” He informed, smiling slightly, though he didn’t get the reaction he was hoping for from his friend.

Steve nodded slightly, “Just friends.” He said. He was never thrilled about the idea of his best friend and sister growing closer. He was Y/N’s brother after all. He knew Bucky was a good man, but he still couldn’t think of them being anything more than friends, “I’ll head up there, be close just in case anything happens.”

“No, I’ll go. Don’t worry, I won’t disturb her.” Bucky said, standing from his seat at the bar, “Besides, you’re in charge of this party. Can’t be leaving. I’ll just sit down the hall until Wanda comes up.” He promised, to which Steve nodded almost reluctantly, still wondering what moment Thor had intruded on. Bucky turned and made his way back up the stairs. Keeping his promise to Steve, he sat outside Y/N’s door in the hallway. He could hear the tv on inside the room, listening as he tried to determine what she had been watching before she fell asleep. He concluded it must be a tv medical show of some sort. After about another hour, Wanda came through the hall, giving a smile towards Bucky with a nod as if to say she had it from here, before disappearing into the room. Bucky stood, watching the door close he caught a glimpse of Y/N sleeping soundly. He smiled, tucking his hands back in his pockets as he made his way back to his own room.

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TAGLIST: @vicmc624 @the-ayo-lit @daddysfavoritesexkitten @springsoulofengland @tcc-gizmachine @taina-eny @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

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Masterlist

Pairing: dark!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha takes you on a date and decides how the night will end.

Warnings: dark themes, stalking, digital hacking, drugging, sexual content (all consensual!!!)

A/N: this is the closest thing I’ve ever written to smut so I hope it didn’t turn out to be complete trash! I’d like to try going further in the future but I’m just doing what fits for the story for now! anyway, can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Previous part

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Natasha could barely sleep that night, the images of you swimming through her mind constantly. She’d stared at the pictures in her phone long enough to memorize every inch of you left uncovered. How she wished to be the one to undress you at night, maybe with your wrists tied together above your head or your ankles forced to separate with a bar between them. The possibilities were endless.

She took a cold shower the next morning after waking up in a sweat because of you, and she knew she had to see you again. Not through a window but in person, face to face. She already missed holding a finger to the pulse point in your wrist, feeling the pace quicken as you lost yourself in her intense gaze. It was thrilling.

Your shift today ended at 6, which is why Natasha strolled into the bookstore just after 5:45. She began feigning interest in a shelf of biographies until she heard your kind voice again, and god, could she come undone at the sound of it.

“You’re back.”

She closed the book she was flipping through with a smile, turning to you, and what a sight you were. Your light t-shirt clung to your torso and was tucked inside of dark pants that loosely covered your waist and legs, hugging your ankles. Your hands were tucked in the pockets, and she wondered what was the easiest way to pull them into hers instead.

“I am.” The book closed with a sharp snap as she stepped closer to you. “I was hoping you were here.”

“Why didn’t you look for me then?”

“Got a little nervous.” She shrugs and you find it endearing.

“You hide it well.” Your hands leave your pocket as she gives you the book. “So what can I do for you, Natasha?”

You noticed her eyes widened slightly when her name left your lips, and you wondered whether or not that was a good reaction. The smirk that followed answered your silent question.

“Call me crazy, but I wondered if you’d have dinner with me. Nothing fancy, just want to get to know a kind soul such as yourself a little deeper.”

“Well, I’m very honored that an Avenger is interested in a boring civilian like me.” You offer her a teasing grin and she laughs in response.

“You know who I am, then.”

“A face like yours isn’t easy to forget.” You step around her to place the book back on the shelf, trying not to focus on the warmth that radiates from her body in such close contact. “I just need to clock out and grab my purse from my locker, and then I’ll be ready for dinner.”

“I’ll be outside,” she promised, watching you until the doors to the back hid you from sight before heading out of the bookstore. She listened carefully for your footsteps as she set up the program on the new cellphone, giving you a smile when you appeared that told nothing of what she was doing.

“Ready when you are.”

Natasha held out her arm to you, unable to contain her grin when you looped yours through the space she left and rested your other hand on her incredibly toned bicep. The warmth of your forearm against hers and your palm through her sleeve made her long for more, but she decided not to rush, knowing she had all the time in the world. As far as she was concerned, you weren’t going anywhere.

You arrived at a quiet restaurant in the middle of casual and fancy, seated at a table in the corner per Natasha’s request. The reasoning given to you was her desire to have eyes on the entire room because “you can never be too careful”, but the phone in her lap told a different story. She was an expert at holding your gaze or keeping your attention while the device downloaded your information, tucking it away in her pocket when finished.

It was halfway through dinner when Natasha found herself wanting to touch you more than the high school hand holding you’d done so far. She noticed a bit of pasta sauce that dribbled onto the corner of your mouth and before you could react, it was swiped away onto the pad of her thumb that was now positioned in front of your lips.

“Open,” she commanded, gleefully watching you obey her with wide and innocent eyes. A shiver went down her spine when your warm tongue cleaned her thumb, smirking as she slowly pulled away from your lips with a pop. And then she was back to her own meal as if nothing happened, while you were left squirming in your seat.

“Would you like to come to my place for wine?” you finally get out when your heart stops making its home in your throat.

“I would love that.”

-

The two of you walked hand in hand to your apartment in a comfortable silence, a bubbly feeling spreading through you every time that damn thumb swiped over your knuckles. You turned on the living room light as you entered, locking the door behind her and offering apologies for a mess that didn’t exist.

“Stop worrying, printsessa. You have a lovely home.”

The bubbles returned at the sound of the Russian nickname. “I’m glad you like it. Have a seat on the couch while I run to the bathroom, and then I’ll pour the wine for us.”

Natasha waited a few seconds after you closed the door before sprinting down the hall to where she could only assume your bedroom was. A bug was placed in your bedside lamp, a camera hidden in the plant on your dresser and your window was unlocked. By the time you stepped out with an empty bladder and clean hands, her back was against the armrest of the couch.

“Do you prefer white or red?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

She followed you to the kitchen, resting her elbows on the island that separated tile from carpet as she watched you place two glasses in front of her. You poured the deep red liquid with a smile, and as you returned the bottle to the fridge, she unscrewed the tiny vial from her necklace and emptied it into one glass. She claimed the other one as you faced her, clinking it to yours and moving to the couch.

“You know, I’ve answered your questions all night but I would love to know more about you,” you told her after a long sip, and she smiled at you over the transparent rim of her drink.

“Anything in particular?”

“Just...something that the media hasn’t broadcasted anywhere. Like, how do you manage not to fall into a deep depression with everything that you deal with as an Avenger?”

“It’s the little things.” She leans forward a bit, her fingertips resting on your knee. “The team and I do pretty normal things when we’re not on missions. Movie nights, eating meals together, being honest with each other when we feel down and doing whatever we can to improve our moods. It helps to have a good support system with these things, or in my case, a best friend that’s a literal ball of sunshine. I’m very lucky to have people like them in my life.”

“I think they’re very lucky to have you, too.” 

A few gulps of the bitter liquid gave you the courage you needed to close the gap and press your lips to hers, and part of you wasn’t surprised at how easily she was able to slip her tongue in your mouth seconds later. A low groan spilled from her lips past yours, and it vibrated within the deepest parts of you as you wrapped an arm around her neck, the other joining after your nearly empty glass was taken away. 

Her hands held onto your waist, squeezing harder as the kiss deepened, and she used the tight grip to guide your back toward the couch cushions. Your fingers slid into her hair when her mouth separated from yours to trail wet kisses down your jaw to the base of your neck, her warm breath leaving goosebumps on your sensitive skin. You slid a hand down to your jeans, about to unbutton them when she let go of one of your hips to stop you.

“Patience, printsessa,” she mumbled into the space between your neck and shoulder. “We have time.”

She pulled herself into a sitting position and you followed, embarrassed when a yawn unexpectedly pushed out of you. 

“I’m sorry.” You chuckled shyly. “I don’t know where that came from.”

“It’s okay. You got up pretty early, yeah?” You nodded. “I figured. Let me just take your number and then I’ll get out of your hair. I can always come back tomorrow.”

She winked as she handed you the phone that wasn’t an exact copy of yours, and you made sure to include your address in the contact you created. When you handed it back, Natasha erased your name and replaced it with your newly given nickname.

She left your apartment after a much more innocent kiss at the door, immediately taking the alley back to your fire escape when she was sure there were no witnesses. A smile shaped her lips as she watched you stumble tiredly through your nightly routine, eventually collapsing on the bed and falling unconscious before you could pull the blanket over your exposed legs.

Once you were asleep for a few minutes, she popped the screen off and set it to the side as she raised the window and climbed in.

-

Tags: @littlegasps @imnotasuperhero @nat-km-mh @emilyprentisswife @cherrieloco @fayhar @muted-stoneheart @witchxaf @sakurat123 @bebe404 @its-a-long-way-to-ba-sing-se 

[geminiwritten]

jesse’s girl ; bucky barnes

fandom: marvel

pairing: bucky x reader

summary: natasha encourages you to date one of the new recruits in the hopes that it might provoke bucky to confess his feelings for you

notes: this is messy and i’m so sorry but i’ve be so stuck lately and i had to force myself to get this written! i hope it’s decent...

word count: 4744 (i don’t even know)

Three weeks ago, the only thing you could think about was Bucky Barnes. His blue eyes and the twinkle that they get when he smiles really wide, the way he flips his hair out of his eyes during a sparring match, and the smell of his aftershave after a hot shower. Everything about Bucky Barnes felt as though it was a drug designed specifically for you.

But that was three weeks ago.

After venting to Natasha and Wanda on a long overdue girls’ night, you finally agreed to go on a date with one of the new recruits who had been asking you out for almost a month. His name was Jesse, and he was one of twelve new agents that were being trained by Steve, Sam, and Bucky in the hopes of being able to help on missions where numbers were necessary.

Natasha convinced you that maybe Jesse would be the chance for you to move on and forget about Bucky, since your infatuation was very evidently not reciprocated. You were sceptical at first, but he was cute and funny, and he seemed genuine, so you agreed to go out with him.

“Hey,” you greeted, looking up at the sound of your room door opening, “how was training?”

Despite his soft smile, it was obvious that Jesse was exhausted, “Good, yeah…”

You stood from your desk and gestured for him to give you his heavy tactical jacket, “What’s that ‘yeah’ for?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, “I’m just tired.”

“Really?” you asked, following him as he sat on the edge of your bed to remove his boots.

“I mean,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I don’t want you to think that I’m making shit up or just being a wuss but…”

“But?”

He sighed, “I just feel like Barnes is going a little hard on me.”

You frowned, unable to stop the way your heartbeat began to race, “What do you mean?”

The fitness watch secured around your wrist beeped at the sudden elevation in heartrate, to which Jesse offered you a confused frown.

You tapped the device in an attempt to shut it up, mumbling, “Stupid thing.”

“I don’t know,” he muttered, thankfully ignoring the watch, “I’m probably just over-thinking it but he really doesn’t seem to like me. He made me do thirty extra laps because I asked an ‘irrelevant question’ even though Timms had just asked him how long lunch break was. And he’s always calling me out for having poor form, he gives me all the broken gear and all the shitty roles during dummy-missions. He’s never even given me a chance to lead but Timms has, twice!”

You frowned, “Which one is Timms again?”

“Frosted tips.”

“Oh,” you watched as he tucked his laces neatly inside his empty boots, “that’s rough.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I don’t know, maybe I’m being dramatic.”

You shrugged, “I don’t think so, none of that sounds at all fair to me.”

He turned to you, looking up through his lashes with pleading eyes, “Really? Because I was thinking that maybe, if you didn’t mind, you could talk to him for me?”

Your watch chirped with another heart rate warning, “Oh, um, like talk to Bucky and ask him to ease up, or…”

“Yeah! He doesn’t have to go soft on me just cause I’m dating you,” he winked badly, “but I wouldn’t mind a pat on the back every now and then.”

“A pat on the back?” you echoed, still trying to squash the sound of your watch with your other hand.

He stood quickly from the bed, gathering his jacket and shoes and pausing before the door, “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Wait,” you stood too, “aren’t you staying here tonight?”

He shook his head, “I’ve got an early start tomorrow, and besides, now you have a chance to talk to Barnes for me!”

Though you couldn’t actually remember agreeing to it, you nodded slowly and leant into his kiss as his lips collided with your cheek.

“Thanks babe, see you tomorrow!”

The door swung shut in your face, leaving you to stare bewildered at the empty coat hook stuck to the back of it.

After sitting pensively on the foot of your bed and allowing yourself enough time to process the conversation that had just taken place, you decided to go upstairs. You hadn’t spent a lot of time with the team over the past few weeks, thanks to Jesse, and you couldn’t help feeling a little sheepish as you stepped out of the elevator and into the common room.

“Oh, my!” Tony, the first to lay eyes on you, exclaimed, “Could it be our long-lost comrade?”

Clint chuckled, “We thought you’d been taken hostage, or worse.”

Before you could speak, Peter walked up to you with his hand outstretched, “Hi, my name’s Peter Parker, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

You gasped indignantly and slapped his hand away, “Watch it, smart ass.”

The rest of the group who were sprawled around the living area rumbled with laughter while Peter received a proud high-five from Tony.

“You know, princess,” Sam said, appearing beside you and placing a heavy hand on your shoulder, “I think you owe us an apology.”

You scoffed, “I don’t owe you anything, Wilson.”

“Actually,” Steve pitched in from his spot on the lounge, “I’d say you owe me some gratitude since I was the one who hired your new boyfriend.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of that word out loud. Though you’d thought it once or twice, you hadn’t yet heard it spoken aloud and something about it made your insides knot.

“Don’t say that word,” you snapped, “I- we haven’t talked about it yet.”

Natasha’s ears pricked at the sound of discomfort in your voice, and her eyes quickly looked to Bucky. He was slumped beside Steve on the three-seater sofa, his elbow resting on the arm of it as his hand supported his head. He looked as if he was doing his best to sink right into the lounge itself, his lips pressed in a thin line and grey eyes glued to the television screen.

Natasha supressed an evil smile as she turned her attention to you, “What do you mean you haven’t talked about it? You were just saying yesterday how dreamy this guy was.”

Crimson colour blossomed in your cheeks, “Thanks, Nat,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your voice. “All it means is that we haven’t spoken about labels yet, now would you all butt out of my love-life?”

“Love?” Sam exclaimed, much to Natasha’s delight.

She glanced at Bucky, whose jaw was getting significantly tighter.

“Oh, come on!” you huffed as you pushed past Sam, moving toward the sofa where Bucky and Steve were seated.

“You know, Y/N,” Nat said as you situated yourself between the two super soldiers, “if it’s not too early for the L-word then I think you should at least start using the B-word.”

Before anyone else could react or respond, Bucky jumped up from the lounge and practically sprinted toward the kitchen door. Silence enveloped the room, everyone staring at the blazing trail that he left behind.

“Well,” Sam spoke first, trying and failing to conceal his amusement, “I wonder what that was about.”

He and Natasha exchanged a knowing glance before dissolving into giggles.

“You two are cruel,” Wanda said, standing from her seat at the dining table and heading for the elevator.

“Did I miss something?” you asked.

Beside you, Steve shrugged, “Just ignore them, they’re being idiots. Buck has had a hard few weeks and he’s nervous about having to let go of some of the recruits tomorrow.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you were going to have to get rid of anyone.”

“Yeah, some of them just aren’t performing well,” he replied, “but between you and me, Jesse is safe.”

You knew you should have felt relief, but you were too busy worrying about Bucky to even consider the safety of Jesse’s position in the recruitment programme.

“He’s actually performing really well, he’s a very promising recruit,” Steve added.

You blinked yourself out of your own spiralling thoughts, “Who is?”

Nat snorted a laugh from across the living room.

“Jesse is,” Steve said, “your boyf-”

“I told you not to use that word,” you interrupted him, standing from the sofa. “Um, I’m just going to go see if Bucky is okay.”

No one spoke a word as you exited through the same door that Bucky had moments before, and as soon as it swung closed behind you, Steve turned to Nat, “Is there something I should know?”

Her grin was nothing but satisfied, because her evil plan was going exactly as she had hoped.

Natasha wasn’t stupid, in fact, she was the exact opposite. She was an international super-spy with a genius level intellect, specially trained to be able to manipulate people and events in her favour. It would have been stupid for her not to use her expert skills and abilities on you, despite the fact that you were one of her closest friends and fellow avenger.

It all started three weeks ago when you had requested a special night in with both Wanda and Natasha. The girls knew that you were once again needing to vent about your unrequited love for Bucky, but Natasha had decided that it was time she did something to fix her best friend’s broken heart. She knew that Bucky felt the same, and not just because Wanda had told her in complete confidence from once hearing his thoughts, but because the Winter Soldier wasn’t at all good at hiding the way he felt about you. At least, not from Natasha.

She could easily see the way that you both pined for one another, so really, she was doing the two of you – and the whole team – a favour. Jesse’s feelings were just collateral damage, and she only felt a twinge of guilt for using him as a pawn to evoke Bucky’s jealous rage in the hopes that he might finally express his feelings for you.

“Are you insane?” Steve asked once Natasha had finished explaining her scheme, “Bucky is going to kill you if he finds out.”

She shrugged, “Finds out what? That I encouraged my best friend to go on a date with a cute guy? That’s hardly a crime.”

Wanda re-entered the room with her drawing pad tucked under her arm, “Like I said, cruel.”

In the gym, down on the lowest level of the compound, Bucky had changed into his sweats and begun pummelling all of his anger into one of the sparring dummies.

“Careful,” you said, stepping up to the ropes around the elevated sparring ring, “Tony just got us a new one, he’ll be fuming if you destroy this one so soon.”

At the sound of your voice his footing stuttered and he tripped forward, his thick arms wrapping around the dummy in order to stop his whole body from falling to the floor.

“Jeez,” he huffed as he righted himself, “don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry,” you blushed, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He watched as your nervous eyes searched for anything else to rest upon but him, “Don’t be sorry.”

He cursed himself for being so soft around you and turned back to the dummy before he had the chance to say anything he might regret.

“Are you alright?” you asked him, resting both forearms on the lowest rope.

He landed two expert punches to the torso of the dummy before turning back to you, a bead of sweat escaping his hairline and racing down his sharp cheekbone.

“Of course, why?” he lied.

You shrugged, “Just seem off, that’s all.”

“I’m fine,” he said, “a little tired, but fine.”

Your eyes were wide, silently pleading for him to be honest, but he was too stubborn.

“Okay,” you said, reaching your arm up toward him with your pinkie finger outstretched, “pinkie-promise?”

His whole body felt warm and fuzzy, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He couldn’t resist you, so he crouched down and linked his flesh pinkie finger with yours.

“I pinkie-promise.”

The stupid sound of your fitness watch alerting you about your erratic pulse made you both startle, and the blush returned to your cheeks tenfold.

“What’s that?” Bucky asked.

You retracted your hand and quickly held the watch behind your back, “Just- uh, low battery I think, stupid thing.”

He frowned.

“I should get to bed, anyway,” you said as you backed away from the sparring ring, “I’m glad you’re okay, Bucky, really.”

You spun around and headed quickly for the door, smacking the small screen on your wrist in another lame attempt to get the thing to shut up.

“Hey, Y/N,” Bucky called across the gym, stopping you just before the door.

He wanted to tell you how he missed you. How he missed your smile and your voice, and the way that you would always take his side over Sam’s. He wanted to tell you that the last few weeks have been hell, and that he hated every second that you weren’t by his side. He wanted to tell you how he really felt about you, but he couldn’t.

“Jesse is really great,” he blurted out instead, “he’s a really promising recruit, and I think you two make a great couple.”

You felt as if someone had stuck a pin into the side of your heart, popping it like a balloon.

“Oh, uh, thanks, Buck,” you called back, “I really miss you though.”

Before your watch could identify another alarming elevation in your heartrate, you swung the door open and hurried into the corridor, away from the gym.

Over the next few days, you avoided just about everyone. You were confused about Jesse and still overwhelmed by Bucky, and most of all, you felt as though you were missing out on some huge inside joke with the rest of the team. You needed space in order to pacify your turbulent thoughts and decide exactly what you wanted to do next.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Wanda said, waving a hand in front of your dazed eyes.

You blinked yourself back to reality, “Sorry, what’d you say?”

“I asked if you were coming to watch the recruits after lunch.”

“Watch them do what?”

She rolled her eyes, “The sparring competition.”

Your confusion only deepened with the crease between your brows.

“Against Natasha and Barnes,” she elaborated, “didn’t Jesse tell you?”

You shook your head, “I haven’t really had much of a chance to see him lately.”

She had to fight the temptation to listen in to your thoughts, “Oh, well, Steve decided that a little friendly competition might boost morale among the recruits after they had to let two of them go last week. They’re going to spar with one another and the four best recruits will get to fight either Bucky or Natasha.”

“Holy shit,” you muttered, “that’s- uh, that’s intense.”

“I suppose it is,” she said, “are you okay?”

You nodded slowly, “Yeah, of course, just a little preoccupied.”

Nearly three hours later you were seated between Wanda and Sam in the first row of the gymnasium’s modest bleachers. Tony had them built in beside the sparring ring for occasions such as this, or for watching Natasha kick Rogers’ ass as he often liked to remind everyone.

The eleventh match was almost over, which meant there were only five more until four of the recruits would have to fight Bucky or Natasha. They were quick rounds, hardly lasting any longer than five minutes each, and with every winner that Steve called you could feel your palms getting sweatier and sweatier.

“For your sake, I hope Jesse gets Romanoff,” the burly recruit sitting behind you said, he had already won his first two matches and you had no doubt he would be one of the four winners.

“What do you mean?” you asked, turning in your seat to look at him.

“Jesse’s one of the best fighters, I don’t doubt he’ll be one of the top four, but Barnes will snap him in half if he gets the chance,” the man replied.

Sam’s attention was piqued now, and he too turned around, “What the hell are you talking about, man? This is just a friendly competition.”

This time, the recruit frowned, “I know that, but Barnes hates Jesse, he’s always had it out for him and don’t think he’ll be very friendly if he’s given the chance to fight the kid.”

You turned to Sam, watching his face morph slowly into realisation.

“Wait,” you said, “I’m still confused. Bucky doesn’t hate Jesse, he told me himself that he thinks he’s a great recruit.”

The burly recruit looked from you to Sam, and then back to you as he slowly raised both hands in mock surrender.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, “but this conversation is definitely above my paygrade.”

Sam turned back to face the sparring ring, obviously ignoring your confused and urgent eyes.

“Sam,” you poked his bicep, “What the fuck is going on?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know, I just-”

“Next match is Jesse versus Angelina,” Steve announced, interrupting Sam, “and if Jesse wins this match, he will be the first of our final four!”

The small group of recruits, agents, avengers, and friends of avengers cheered, but you were all too confused to even muster a clap. Steve then announced that the match would begin in five minutes, so you took your chance and hurried over to where Jesse was stretching beside the ring.

“Hey,” you said, “how are you feeling?”

“Hey!” he exclaimed, excitedly planting a sloppy kiss on your lips, “I feel great, I’ve got this in the bag.”

You resisted the urge to wipe your lips on the back of your sweater sleeve.

“Oh, really? I mean, you’re incredible but these other recruits are pretty tough.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “not really, they’re all fairly amateur but these rounds are just a warm-up.”

“A warm-up for what?”

“Barnes,” he replied, his gaze locked on something across the ring.

You glanced over to see Tony helping Bucky try on a few different gloves, each of them made from a variety of soft materials and reaching up his forearm and above his elbow.

Jesse sniggered, “Those gloves are a waste of time, he won’t get a chance to land one on me.”

“Are you serious?” you scoffed, “Jesse, he is a genetically enhanced, special-ops, super spy. He could kill almost everyone in this room without even breaking a sweat.”

“Almost everyone,” Jesse echoed, “you’re right, but not me. Don’t worry babe, I’ve been waiting for a chance to show Barnes who’s boss ever since recruitment day.”

You were utterly speechless, anchored to the ground by overwhelming disbelief of what you had just heard. You hardly even noticed when Jesse kissed your lips once more before Steve called him into the ring.

Slowly, you moved back to your seat between Wanda and Sam.

“Are you okay?” Wanda asked, a gentle finger hooking beneath your chin to close your open mouth.

You were in shock, “That kid is an idiot.”

“I could have told you that,” Sam said, “he’s too cocky, always pushing back and refusing orders. We only keep him around because he’s shown some real skill, and because of you.”

“What?” you snapped, “Why the fuck didn’t anyone tell me?”

He shrugged yet again, “Barnes asked us not to, said that if you liked him then he must be a good guy deep down.”

You glared at him accusingly before whipping around to Wanda, “Did you know this?!”

She smiled sheepishly, “Yes and no.”

“Ugh,” you groaned loudly, “why the hell is everyone being so damn cryptic lately?!”

Steve’s voice once again echoed around the gym, announcing Jesse as the winner and the first of the four finalists.

The next few rounds happened faster than you could keep up with. Every time the bell rang to signal the beginning of a match, you fell back into the spiralling pool of thoughts in your head. You wanted to find answers for all the questions you had but there was something that you didn’t know, a piece of information that you needed in order to finish the puzzle you so desperately wanted to solve.

“Oh, my god,” Wanda said, bringing you back to reality, “this isn’t going to end well.”

“What happened?”

“Jesse is going to verse Barnes,” Sam replied, trying terribly to hide the amusement in his tone.

“Is Bucky really going to kill him?” you asked.

“He’s thinking about it,” Wanda said.

Everyone cheered as Natasha was the first to fight the burly recruit from before. She had him in a headlock within seconds, but he certainly didn’t seem too bummed about being trapped between her thighs.

The next match was a muscly female recruit against Bucky, who was inhibited by a silicone glove covering his bionic arm. She was incredible, and seemed to actually give him a run for his money until Steve rang the three-minute bell and Bucky pinned her to the floor. He had obviously been going easy on her, only putting a fraction of his power into every move for the fear of actually injuring her.

After the rest of the recruits celebrated the length of time that their comrade had managed to stay in the ring with the Winter Soldier, it was time for Natasha’s second duel. She was up against a petite but lean female recruit who only had half a head of inky black hair that was braided tightly to her scalp. The fight was dynamic and entertaining to watch, even Natasha seemed to be enjoying herself with the skilled young recruit, but after five minutes passed Nat won the round.

It was nice to watch all the young recruits celebrate with each other. They were all huddled together, chatting excitedly about how great this competition was and how amazing both Nat and Bucky were. They were genuinely happy for one another and they were starting to act like a real team, all but one of them.

Jesse was back in his spot beside the ring, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his hands on his knees, palms facing up.

“Is he meditating?” Sam said, taking the words right out of your mouth.

“Not really,” Wanda answered him, her eyes trained on Jesse, “he’s a bit nervous, but he’s hoping that everyone is looking at him and thinking he’s really cool. He also can’t wait for victory sex tonight.”

Your stomach lurched, threatening to send your lunch back up your oesophagus, “Gross.”

The moment Steve stepped into the middle of the ring, the gym went silent, as if everyone was waiting for this fight.

“I can’t wait to see Barnes destroy him,” a voice from somewhere behind you said, “the weasel deserves it.”

“He shouldn’t even be given this chance,” another voice joined in, “it’s an honour to be in one of these matches and Jesse’s just an arrogant prick. I can’t believe he wasn’t kicked out of the programme last week.”

Steve rang the bell and the match began.

Bucky was still wearing his silicone glove so he didn’t accidentally kill his opponent, though you almost wished that he had taken it off this time.

Jesse wore a stupid smirk as he danced on his toes around the ring. Bucky had to use all of his strength not to knock the idiot out in one punch, but it was becoming increasingly difficult the longer he had to wait for the first swing.

“I know your technique, Barnes,” Jesse said, only loud enough for Bucky to hear.

Bucky just rolled his eyes, “This is a sparring match, Jesse, just shut up and throw a punch.”

“Why would I do something that you’re expecting me to-”

Bucky swung a soft fist into Jesse’s torso, knocking the wind out of him and earning a cheer from the crowd.

“Big mistake,” Jesse spluttered as he tried to regain composure.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before fluidly ducking Jesse’s first swing, and then the second and the third.

“Stop thinking about how you look while you’re fighting and focus on technique,” he said as he resisted the urge to finish the match right then and there.

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

Jesse’s swings became sloppy and Bucky was easily dodging every attack. The crowd were cheering and even Steve had to fight the small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

As Bucky moved around the ring, guiding Jesse whichever way he pleased, he searched for you. He knew it was silly, but he wanted to know if you were watching, he wanted to see if you were worried about Jesse or if you were watching for him.

The moment he found you, his heart began to race. Of course, it was already a little worked up from dodging Jesse’s careless fists, but the effect that you had was so immense it made him a little dizzy. Then he saw the corner of your pink lips quirk upwards ever so slightly and for a split second, he lost focus.

Jesse’s fist collided with Bucky’s jaw, drawing a gasp from the crowd as Bucky stumbled on his feet.

“That’s what you get for looking at my girl,” Jesse sneered.

Bucky glanced at you, worry now consuming your perfect features.

Jesse too glanced back, evoking a flicker of rage across your face before he turned back to Bucky and really put the final nail in his coffin, “I just can’t wait to fuck her tonight after I win this stupid competition.”

Wanda gasped, “Holy shit.”

“What?” you demanded.

“Oh, no,” Sam muttered.

In the time it had taken you to turn to Wanda and turn back to the ring, Bucky had begun beating the life out of Jesse and Steve was running into the ring to stop the fight.

You leapt off your seat as your watch, yet again, began beeping obnoxiously to alert you that your pulse was beating dangerously fast.

By the time you reached the side of the ring, Steve and Tony had pulled the pair apart. Bucky climbed out of the ring as Steve carried Jesse off to the infirmary. The recruits were cheering for Bucky, chattering animatedly about the events that had just transpired.

“Bucky!” you exclaimed, “Are you okay?”

The pure uncontrollable anger in his eyes melted away the moment they met yours.

“Hey, yeah, I’m fine,” he said, finding a towel to dab at his split lip.

You raised your brows, “The last time you said that to me you were lying.”

He couldn’t help the silly smile that you brought to his lips, “I’m sorry, and I’m sorry that I broke the sacred vow of a pinkie promise.”

“It’s okay, as long as you’re okay.”

For a moment you simply stared at each other, hearts thrumming and palms sweating until painful realisation shot Bucky through the chest.

“Well, uh, you should probably go check on your boyf-”

“Please don’t,” you cut him off, softly bringing your hands up to his jaw, “that idiot is not my boyfriend, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, you don’t?” Bucky whispered, his voice failing him as you overwhelmed his senses.

You shook your head, “No, I have a Bucky.”

That was all he needed to close the distance between your lips, pressing his body against yours as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth.

You never wanted to part from him, not for anyone or anything, not even for air but the sudden chirping of your fitness watch made the two of you startle.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you sighed.

Bucky chuckled, “What the hell is that noise?”

You laughed too, “It’s my Bucky-radar actually, because whenever there’s a Bucky nearby it beeps like crazy because my pulse starts going a hundred miles a minute.”

“Is that so?” his smirk almost made your knees buckle, “Should we test this thing out then, see how fast your heart has to race before it breaks?”

You hooked your arms around his neck, the watch still chirping, “And how exactly do you suggest we do that?”

He pressed another breathtaking kiss to your lips, stealing every coherent thought in your head.

“Oh, I’ve got a list.”

END.

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 5

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 4,569

Warnings: none

A/N: Let me just thank you for your support, it’s so heartwarming and I love you so much. I’m sorry this chapter is so long, I have no idea how that happened. I hope you enjoy this :’)

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post.

After you agreed to move in with Bucky and become a full time artist, everything started to move incredibly fast. The dinner went well, you worked out the details of your contract with Sam and Nat who didn’t seem surprised that this was happening.

You left your job almost overnight, only giving them two weeks’ notice. They easily found a new breakfast attendant and you even trained your replacement. You emptied your locker, returned your name tag and your master key, and went on your merry way.

Now you were on your way to Bucky’s apartment, a suitcase full of clothes between your legs and another full of administrative papers, beauty products and whatnot between Natasha’s legs. She had insisted on coming with you to help you get settled. You didn’t own furniture or anything that required her help so you figured she just wanted to make sure Bucky was treating you right.

He had already transferred your monthly allowance to your bank account, which prompted your bank to call you. They wanted to know where the 5 thousand dollars came from and you told them it was a gift. ��If your friend’s looking for new friends give them my number, yeah?” the man on the phone told you.

The rocking motion of the train had a soothing effect on you, almost lulling you to sleep. You let your head fall against the window and played one of your favourite game –people watching.

There was a man reading a newspaper, standing with his feet apart as if the cart was one giant skateboard. A woman was putting on makeup, another was playing a game on her phone. The woman sitting next to you was wrestling with her toddler who wanted to snatch your scarf. It was a quiet day.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Natasha asked, her face as cold as stone.

“’Bout what?” you replied in a sleepy voice.

“About your crush on James.”

“I don’t have a crush on Bucky.”

As soon as the words passed your lips, a tiny, sticky hand landed on your jaw, making a wet slapping sound. You blinked hard, your eyes trained on Natasha who was now openly smiling at the toddler next to you.

“See? Even the baby knows you’re a liar,” she said, singing the last word.

You turned your head to look at the baby and saw him put his fist in his mouth, his eyes bright and wide. With a happy squeal he launched himself at you again, smacking you in the face. The mother apologized and held her child against her chest, softly admonishing him to stop throwing himself at strangers. You felt that. He spent the rest of the ride looking at you.

“So, really, you’re going to move in with a man you have a massive crush on, and we’re not even going to talk about it,” she pressed on.

You huffed, wiping baby goo from your cheek with your sleeve. “You’re like a dog with a bone.”

“And you’re the bone.”

You got off the train and walked to Bucky’s apartment, your suitcase rolling behind you. Natasha was silent next to you, something that almost never happened. You counted your steps in your head, waiting for her to speak.

“You didn’t have to move out of my apartment.”

22 steps. That’s how long Natasha managed to stay quiet for. “Of course, I had to. I’m not going to do Brooklyn-Chelsea every day.”

When Bucky had offered his guest bedroom, your first reaction had been to politely refuse. Bucky seemed like a nice guy, but what if he had a glass cage in his basement? What if he trapped you there and commissioned paintings to you? Psycho killer, qu'est ce que c'est.

Then he opened up about his past, his insecurities, and it made you long to hold him. There was a vulnerability in his eyes, the kind that only come from an unprotected heart. You realized there was more chance of you hurting him than the opposite.

“You’re the one who organized this whole thing,” you reminded Natasha.

“Yeah, but I didn’t know you had a crush on him. And if someone tells Okoye this was my idea, she’ll kill me.”

You turned to her with a not-sorry smile. “Yup.”

Your big sister was like most big sisters: extremely protective. When your mother had to work late, she was in charge and she took her role very seriously. You were nine when she finally got her driver’s licence, and that day she graduated from sister to mother. Eat your vegetables. Did you do your homework? I know you didn’t brush your teeth.

Okoye was loyal, protective, intimidating, and never afraid to speak her mind. When she decided to join the Dora Milaje, you thought the job was perfect for her –the king’s bodyguard, now that’s something you’d like to put on your resume.

“Do you want me to stay tonight?” Natasha asked as you got inside the elevator.

“Why are you so worried?”

“I don’t know.” She pressed her back against the wall and shrugged. “It’s always been you and me. Since first grade.”

You returned her sad smile with one of your own. “Heckle and Jeckle.”

She barked out a laugh at the memory. It was the nickname her father had for the two of you. It used to be a popular animated cartoon in the 50s. It was the story of two talking magpies who were always getting into some kind of trouble.

You stepped out of the elevator, still arguing about which one of you got to be Jeckle, the less problematic of the two, when you noticed that Bucky was patiently waiting for you by the front door. He didn’t say anything but there was an amused smile on his face.

He let you put your suitcases in the guest room near the kitchen and told you that he had to run a few errands, giving you a little privacy. Natasha hung up your clothes in the wardrobe while you unpacked your other stuff and put them away in the drawers of your dresser.

It didn’t take you long to unpack. When you were done, you threw yourself onto the bed, watching Natasha. You were excited to sleep in a real bed, you couldn’t stop running your hands up and down the comforter.

“Jeckle,” Natasha said, looking at the mostly empty wardrobe. “You need new clothes.”

“Ugh, yes,” you groaned from the bed.

When you were a teenager, you used to spend every weekend at the mall with your sisters and Natasha. Your wardrobe wasn’t big enough to fit all your clothes and your mother often asked you to get rid of the things you didn’t wear anymore. You never did.

Then life happened, and you didn’t have the energy or money to go shopping anymore.

You went to the kitchen to grab something to drink. Bucky’s fridge was even bigger than the one you had at work, and it was full of food in neatly labelled rows of Tupperware containers. The one in front of you was labelled ‘baby carrots’.

“Neat freak alert,” Natasha commented, peering over your shoulder into the refrigerator.

“Stop it.”

You took a bottle of water and sat at the kitchen island while Natasha continued investigating his kitchen. Bucky had several gadgets that few people had in their kitchen like a cutting board with suction cups on the bottom and nails on top to hold the food in place while slicing.

It was obvious that he liked to cook, and for some reason it made you smile. You pictured him cooking for one and your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. It was a sad mental image and you shook your head to get rid of it.

The front door opened and you lifted your head to see what Natasha was doing. She was holding Bucky’s meal plan, perusing it intensely. Bucky entered the room and greeted you with a smile before he made his way over to the fridge.

“Can I help you with anything?” he asked.

Natasha waved the meal plan in your direction mouthing ‘it’s laminated’ while Bucky retrieved a bottle of water for himself. You gestured wildly at her to put it back down.

“No, I’m good,” you replied with a slightly crazed smile. He looked between you and Natasha with a frown. “Natasha was about to leave.”

“Was I?” she replied, tilting her head.

“Yeah, you have stuff to do, remember?” You gave her a pointed stare.

“No.”

You widened your eyes at her and moved your head in the direction of the hallway that led to the front door. You tried to be discreet but you knew you weren’t fooling anyone. She watched you, unfazed.

Luckily, Bucky came to your rescue.

“Thank you for coming all the way out here, Natasha. Do you want me to call you a cab?” His tone left no room for discussion. You hid your grin behind your glass.

“That won’t be necessary,” she replied without looking at him.

You walked Natasha back to the front door and opened it. She glared at something over your shoulder and you turned to see if Bucky was there. He wasn’t.

“Wait, I forgot to tell him that if he hurts you I’ll kill him.”

You grabbed her by the shoulders when she tried to move past you. “I think he got the message. Thanks for coming with me. I’ll call you tonight.”

“You’d better,” she warned with a slow nod.

When you returned to the kitchen, it really dawned on you that you were alone with Bucky. He glanced up at you while he was going through his mail. You took your seat and nervously looked around the room. It was too quiet, you didn’t like it.

“I like your friend,” he said, grinning. “She seems very protective of you.”

“She is,” you sighed.

An uncomfortable and strangely melancholic silence hung between you. You were both afraid to say or do the wrong thing. You felt like you didn’t belong there; like a patch sewed on a worn out pair of jeans, mending holes.

“You ok?”

You looked up at him. “Yeah, I just feel a little awkward. I’m... not sure what you want me to do now.”

“Nothing,” he said, rounding the kitchen island to sit on the stool next to you. His eyebrows were pulled together in concern. “This is your home. You can do whatever you want.”

“It doesn’t really feel like my home.” You shrugged one shoulder. “It kinda feels like I just unloaded my crap in your guest room, which is exactly what happened.”

He observed you a moment. “Well, make it your home. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable here.”

“So,” you glanced at him sideways. “If I bought a few things to make this place more... homey, you wouldn’t be mad?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled up as his smile grew. “I’m begging you to make this place more homey. It’s really boring, isn’t it?” he said, looking around the kitchen with a comical frown.

You chuckled. “No, it’s not. Well, maybe a little.”

“Thank you for your honesty,” he said with a laugh.

Bucky watched you with his cheek in the palm of his hand. Your eyes were moving around the room, making mental notes of the things you wanted to add. He smiled, the sparkle was back in your eyes.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he said, straightening up.

He left the room for a second and came back with his hand hidden behind his back. You looked at him with a playfully suspicious frown as he approached you. You followed his movements closely, your frown deepening when he placed a little white box on the kitchen counter.

“Open it.”

You removed the lid and pulled out a set of keys, undoubtedly the keys to his apartment. The keychain was gleaming the light; a small silver angel that fit snugly in the palm of your hand.

You barely managed to croak out a thank you before you threw yourself at him, hugging him tight. His body tensed instantly and you were about to apologize when you felt his arm wrap around you.

You felt pressure build in your throat, a tingling sensation in your nose, and tried to hide your face in the crook of his neck. The last thing you wanted was for him to catch you crying over a set of keys. Though deep down it wasn’t about the keys, it was the accumulation of pent-up emotions and the realization that you were now completely free to follow your dreams.

You released him but he was still hanging on to you. Tight. His heart was beating fast against your chest. He was a lonely man craving human interaction. So you closed your eyes and rubbed your hands up and down his back –gently and out of sync. After a few long minutes, he untangled himself from you.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, avoiding your eyes. “C’mon, there’s something else I want to show you.”

“Another gift?” You sighed his name when you noted the guilty expression on his face. “It’s too much.”

“It’s a practical gift, hardly a gift at all.”

He took you upstairs to the room that was now your studio. The room hadn’t changed since your last visit, except for the easel placed in the centre. You entered slowly as if you were approaching a frightened mythological creature. You ran your fingers along the wood, your chest tight with the heft of your emotions.

You hadn’t seen one in a while, and now it was right in front of you, beckoning. “Show me how you feel,” the easel said. “Show the world what you’re made of.”

“Thank you so much,” you said, your voice soft.

“I thought it was the perfect housewarming gift for you.”

You turned to him and smiled. “It is. I already bought everything I need. Paint, knives, brushes, canvases... an easel. Sorry, I didn’t know you were going to buy me one. It’s good to have more than one though. Online shops are a bit impersonal.” You walked toward the door where he was waiting. “I miss the smell of art supply stores. It’s so intoxicating, it really gets the creative juices flowing.”

“What does it smell like?”

You closed your eyes and tried to concentrate. “It’s a mix of paint and paper, a woody pencil-sharpening smell mixed with chemicals and ash.”

“Sounds relaxing.”

“It’s heaven,” you said with a dreamy sigh.

Bucky gave you a fond smile and glanced at the keychain still in your hand. “So that’s where angels come from, uh?”

You laughed and pushed his good shoulder playfully. Ever since that fateful day when Bucky asked you out for coffee and you mistook his business date for a romantic date, you learned not to take the things he said too seriously. Bucky was a nice guy, a bit of a flirt sometimes, but his intentions were clear. He wanted a companion, not a girlfriend.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a flash, you went to your room and rearranged a few things while Bucky stayed in his office. At dinnertime you set the table while he finished cooking. You sat in front of a bowl of homemade soup and a grilled cheese sandwich.

After you had practically licked your bowl clean, Bucky leaned back in his chair and watched you with a grin. You felt a little embarrassed. You wiped your mouth with your napkin, trying to look a bit more well-mannered.

“It was really good,” you said.

“Thank you. I gotta say, I was tired of cooking for one. It’s not fun.” He put your empty bowl in his and carried them to the sink. You gathered up plates and utensils and followed him. “You’ll have to tell me what you don’t like.”

“As long as you don’t make me eat broccoli ice cream, I’m good.”

He laughed, remembering your conversation from a couple of week ago. “I don’t think I can stomach it either.” He handed you two small plates and two forks. “I bought a cake. I thought we could celebrate our first day together. Is it creepy? I can’t tell.”

“No, that’s a great idea!” you laughed. “You’re making me feel like it’s my birthday.”

You carried everything to the table while he opened the fridge and retrieved a large pink cardboard box. He balanced the box in his hand, a sharp knife sitting on top. “I’m surprised you didn’t bake it yourself,” you said, picking up the knife.

“Dessert isn’t my forte.” He opened the cardboard box, revealing a three-layer red velvet cake. “I’m too much of a perfectionist. I can make pretty decent pies but sponge cakes are hard to control when you only have one hand.”

“We can bake cakes together if you want. I’m clumsy as hell but I’m willing to learn.”

“That’d be nice,” he replied with a smile.

It was, without a doubt, the best cake you’d ever had in your life. It was incredibly light. The chocolate and vanilla burst in your mouth, mixing perfectly with the bitterness of the buttermilk.

“Red velvet is my favorite,” Bucky said, licking his fork. “Blueberry cheesecakes are good too. And Blackout cakes, umm, so good. Except fruitcakes,” he said, his mouth twisted into a downturned grimace. “Fruitcakes are the devil.”

“You’ve got quite the sweet tooth.”

“You have no idea,” he said, shaking his head like he couldn’t quite believe it himself.

After a minute of silence, you said, “The last time I ate red velvet cake, my sister had put too much white vinegar. It was disgusting but we didn’t want to hurt her feelings so we ate all of it.”

Bucky chuckled. “How many siblings do you have?”

It was a standard get-to-know-you question and you knew he would ask it at some point. Yet, it made your guts twist in pain. It was a question you always dreaded because you didn’t have a clear answer to it. Should you leave Pietro out? He was gone but he was still your brother.

“I, uh,” you mumbled, staring down at your half-eaten slice of cake. “I’m not sure what the answer is.” He frowned at you, confused. “Do you... do you count the ones you lost?”

Understanding flashed in his eyes and he gave you a patient smile. “Yes, I do.”

You met his eyes and tried to smile, though you were pretty sure it looked more like a grimace. “I have four siblings then.” You took a forkful of cake and chewed slowly, allowing yourself a few seconds to clear your thoughts. Without success.

“I was adopted,” you revealed. His eyebrows rose in surprise but he let you continue. “We were all adopted. My mom lost her husband when she was young. They wanted to have a big family but they were too busy working. They both had very demanding jobs.”

“What did they do?”

“He was in the military, and she was the co-founder of an extra-governmental military counter-terrorism and intelligence agency.”

“That’s a mouthful,” Bucky chuckled.

“You should hear their name.” He gave you a ‘go ahead’ look. “It’s the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division.”

You watched Bucky process the name, waiting for the moment realization would dawn on him. Then his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.? Your mom’s the co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D.” He stared at you, his mouth wide open. “Your mom’s Peggy Carter!? Jesus Christ,” he sighed, shaking himself out of his stupor. “When we were kids, me, Stevie and a couple of other kids pretended to be secret agents working for S.H.I.E.L.D. We even had a name: the Howling Commandos.”

You screwed your eyes shut, a smile breaking across your face. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled, embarrassment colouring his face. “I dunno why I’m telling you this. Please, don’t tell your mom.”

Your laughter died down, and you continued smiling at him. He was cute when he was flustered. You smothered that thought as soon as it materialized.

“I didn’t know she had adopted five kids.”

“Yeah, I guess her job as the co-founder of one the most important secret agency gave her the freedom to adopt without having to wait.”

“Do you get along with your siblings?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I mean, kinda. Scott, my older brother, is a few years younger than you. He’s really smart but he’s a big goof. He left for San Francisco when I was a kid. My sister, Okoye, left when I was 19. She’s King T’Chaka’s bodyguard.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah,” you chucked. “The twins are only three years older than me. We were really close, but then Pietro,” you took a small pause, “he, um, he died and, Wanda, she couldn’t stay anymore. It was too much, y’know. She went to Sokovia -where they were born- and she never came home. Last I heard, she was backpacking through Europe.”

“You still have your mom though,” Bucky said with a warm smile.

“She’s in London,” you said, smiling even though you had to dig your nails into your palm to keep yourself from crying. “She’s in a nursing home. She was diagnosed with a form of dementia, something similar to Alzheimer. She has no idea who I am.”

You tried to speak in a normal, detached tone but your voice wavered and you fought not to cry. Bucky reached for your hand, your nails had left half-moon indentations in your palm. Wordlessly, he smoothed his thumb over your palm, inspecting the damage.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice soft.

Until now it had never occurred to you that you had never said those things out loud before. Natasha knew because she’d been with you through all of it. She was your best friend, the only person who hadn’t abandoned you yet.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d met someone new, someone you felt comfortable enough to talk to about your family.

You didn’t want to end the day on a sad note, so you pulled yourself together. You straightened up, wiped your eyes and sniffed back the tingling feeling in your nose. Bucky seemed to notice that you wanted to change the subject because he let go of your hand and picked up his fork again.

“So,” you said after clearing your throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“It’s a serious question and it’s important that you tell me the truth.”

Bucky flinched, his throat working as he swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I promise.”

You took a deep breath and rotated your head left and right, working the kinks out of your neck and back. Then you levelled him with a direct stare.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

Bucky recoiled as if he had misheard you. He looked momentarily startled by your question before he burst into laughter. When your face remained stoic, he realized you weren’t joking. “Oh? Umm, I don’t know.”

“That’s not an answer.”

He seemed lost in thought for a second. “I like blue.”

“Which blue? Navy? Tiffany blue? Sapphire? Baby blue? Teal? Duck-egg? Turquoise?” you enumerated them quickly.

“Just...blue?” he replied carefully. You took a deep breath and released it slowly, shaking your head. “No, wait,” he added in a hurry. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration while he was trying to come up with a better answer. “The color of the sky when a storm is brewing. That’s my favorite color.”

You smirked. “Poetic.”

“Well, I’m a writer,” he replied with a lopsided grin. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Oh no, you can’t ask me that. I’m a painter, it’s like asking a parent who their favourite child is.”

“Fair enough,” he conceded, waving his hand to dismiss the question. “Let me ask you an equally important question.”

“Oh, boy,” you laughed.

The warmth of his laughter was reassuring. It made you feel at ease, calm. What you hadn’t realized yet was that you weren’t trying to change your personality to please him. You were yourself, flaws and all.

“When you read a book, how do you keep track of your reading?” he asked. “Do you use a bookmark? Receipts? Candy wrappers? Book ribbon? Do you fold the corner of the page? Do you leave the book face down or memorize the page number? I need to know.”

You didn’t have to think about it. “Dog ears.”

“Oh, God, you’re a folder.” He stared up at the ceiling and sighed heavily. “I think I got you all wrong. You’re not an angel, you’re a little demon.” He pressed his lips together in a thin line to hide a smile.

He quickly gathered up the dirty plates and carried them to the sink while you remained seated at the table, laughing. You turned in your chair and saw him fill the sink with hot water and suds. What kind of millionaire doesn’t own a dishwasher?

“I bet you also write in ‘em,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a hint of a smirk.

“No, I would never,” you said, joining him at the sink. “I like books that look old though. Cracked spines, folded corners, tea or coffee stains.”

“Please, stop I’m going to hyperventilate,” he joked.

You chuckled. “Do you a have a towel?” you asked, giving him a little tap with your hip so he would scoot sideways.

He let go of the knife he was washing and pulled out a towel from the cabinet under the sink. You were a bit in awe of the way he cleaned everything with only one hand but you didn’t want to sound condescending so you kept it to yourself.

“What’s the point of having books if they look like nobody’s ever opened them?” you said. “I want to know my books had a good life before I bought them. I want to know they were loved. Sometimes when you love something, you mess it up a little.” He rinsed a plate and handed it to you. “I bet you have one of those sentence pointer bookmarks.”

He stayed quiet for a moment and you cursed yourself, thinking you might have hurt his feelings with your little teasing. His meal plan was fucking laminated, of course he had a sentence pointer bookmark. When he spoke, you felt like you could breathe again.

“I do have a bookmark. My niece made it for me at school. It’s pink and it has a braided pink and purple ribbon. No sentence pointer.”

His rueful smile and slightly red cheeks made your chest warm. You had to remind yourself that Bucky wasn’t flirting with you. He was just being nice.

“I’m jealous,” you said. “I wish I had one.”

“That can be arranged,” he nodded, his bottom lip jutting out in a pensive pout.

You wondered what this would look like if someone were to enter the room right now. They’d see you and Bucky, standing side by side at the sink as though you were the protagonists of a Norman Rockwell painting called ‘Domestic Bliss’. You wanted more days like this one.

“Yeah?” you breathed out. “You sure?”

“Anything for you, angel.”

Part 6

[inkblot-inc]

Jaws going down to the bottom of their swimming pool when it gets colder out. Their pool is warm and they like it much better there. Nat and Wanda are the only ones that can convince them to come out.

Yes'm this is true.

The funny thing about the saltpool is that it's basically Jaws' territory: You don't casually go into a shark's territory 'lest it mistake you for their next meal.

You'd have to take similar practice when approaching Jaws there, especially if they've been in their saltpool for a while. The cold weather makes this happen more frequently.

Natasha and Wanda being the only two to get close enough to lure them out of the salt pool only speaks to how trusting Jaws is of both of them in their more primal state of mind.

In the beginning, Wanda and Nat had to go together for their own safety since Jaws was new and didn't trust any of them. It's a rare thing that either of them can go by themselves.

[staarshines]

adhjdjs yesss!! very happy that i found smone else writing for karev haha. could you do number 6 from the frozen prompts with him :’))

Surprises, Surprises, & More Surprises || A.K.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1.6k

After a sleepless night, Alex decides you’ve had enough and pulls off a surprise for you, which surprisingly leads to feelings being revealed.

[A/N]: I’m only on season 14 of Grey’s, so if you want to send me a request with a specific scene that happens in the show, please make sure it’s not a spoiler!

Disney Prompts | Nat’s 500

“Hey, wake up.” Your head snaps up and you blink a couple of times, finding yourself standing over a nurse’s station desk. Groaning, you rub your eyes, checking the time and finding that you hadn’t even been asleep for one full minute. “You okay?” You turn to Alex, finding him with raised eyebrows and a concerned look on his face.

“I’m fine,” you yawn, pressing the save button on your file and placing the tablet that you had been working on before you fell asleep on a charger stand.

“You were literally asleep standing up. We have on-call rooms for a reason.”

“The mattresses in there are shit. I still gotta pester Webber to replace those,” you mutter, sighing.

“Were you up studying for a surgery or something?” You shake your head, running a tired hand through your hair to tame it as best you could.

“Meredith and Derek were at it all night. I should’ve known to not take the room under hers intern year,” you state solemnly, sticking out your tongue playfully when Alex laughs at you.

“I told you that you can come sleep with me if that ever happens.”

“What a very tempting offer, Karev, but I’m just not interested. Must be hard for you to face rejection?” you tell him sarcastically, flipping your hair exaggeratedly. 

Honestly? That was the furthest one could get from the truth. You’d had a crush on him since intern year, and you knew you loved him the second year of residency. Those feelings had failed to dissipate, and they haunted you every day. Watching him get with Izzie, then Olivia, next came Addison, then Rebecca, Callie, Lexie; the point is evident. He’d gotten with all of them, but he couldn’t see that the person who’d loved him for years was right in front of his face.

“Oh, shut up. But really. I don’t want you falling asleep on the job when you can just get a good night’s sleep next to me.” For some reason, his last sentence makes butterflies go crazy in your stomach, which is probably the millionth time that’s happened. You wished there was something under those words, you really did, but you’d come to terms with the fact that he didn’t like you a while ago.

“I’m not falling asleep!”

“Oh, please. You were literally asleep standing up.”

“I was resting my eyes,” you defend yourself. “I was just giving my spine a break from supporting my head for a bit.” 

“Yeah, right,” he chuckles, making you push his shoulder.

“I actually went up to your room. You were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you, though,” you lie with a straight face. 

You had gone up to his room and even sat down on the edge of the bed, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath. He looked so peaceful when he was sleeping. Not stressed or snappy like he’d be on most days, but genuinely peaceful. Eventually, you’d left because you knew you’d get more sleep in your own room than Alex’s; you’d just be staring at him the entire night. 

God, you really could never get enough of that face.

“We both know damn well that I’m a heavy sleeper. Just don’t steal the duvet, yeah?” You laugh with a nod. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“What’s this, the fourth time this has happened?”

“Sixth,” you correct with another yawn. “Or seventh. I honestly don’t know.” He tilts his head, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Whatcha thinking, evil spawn?”

“That’s Cristina’s thing. And I’m thinking…” he trails off, prompting you to raise your eyebrows and wave a hand in front of his face. “You know what? I have a surprise for you. You get off at nine today, right?”

“I do, but why? What’s the surprise?” you question, genuinely intrigued as to what he was gonna pull off. 

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” You pout, watching him wink at you and walk off. “I’ll pick you up at the ER entrance once you’re done!” he calls out to you. You nod and realize there’s a patient you need to get to, but you’re deep in your thoughts as you walk the hallway to the Cardiac ICU.

What the hell was he gonna pull off?

“Put this on.” Alex hands you a blindfold and you look at him with a disbelieving expression, slapping it out of his hand and raising an eyebrow.

“I should’ve known there was something wrong when you sent me that text to meet you in your car,” you laugh, watching him huff.

“If you don’t put on the blindfold, then the surprise is gonna be ruined. You’re gonna know as soon as we pull into the damn lot, so just put it on?” You give him a weary look and pick it up from where you slapped it onto the dash of his car, slowly wrapping it around your head. Hearing him start the car, you sigh and bite your lip.

“I swear, if you’re playing some kind of joke, I’ll land you in the E.R., and not even by accident.” He chuckles before reversing the car and driving out of Grey-Sloan’s parking lot.

“Can I take this thing off now?” you whine, holding his hands and steadily walking—well, you don’t really know where. He’d just led you up a flight of stairs, so you’re pretty sure you’re walking down a hallway now.

“Just a couple more steps and we’ll be there,” he mutters, holding both of your hands and guiding you—again, you don’t have a clue where. “All right, stop. I gotta open this door.” You can hear keys jangle and you’re even more confused. “Okay, come on.” He leads you into the room, presumably, and puts his hands on the back of your blindfold, untying it. “Voilà!”

You flinch at the sudden change of light, putting a hand over your eyes and slowly blinking until you can open your eyes without any pain. An apartment—maybe a loft?—meets your gaze, and your jaw drops at how beautiful it is. Perfectly catered to your and Alex’s tastes, almost of like he had it custom-made.

“This—Holy shit. This is beautiful. What—How? Wait, why’d you bring me here?” You turn around to find him with a proud grin on his face, and you can read everything just from that. “This is ours?”

“Remember when we went apartment hunting because you started having the same problem with Derek and Mer and we came across that really musty loft that you said you wouldn’t move into in a million years?” He waves around, and your eyes widen.

“That’s this?” You walk slowly further into the loft, still awed by how much it had changed. What once used to look like a place where druggies would go to hang out now looked like a dream apartment. “How the hell did you manage this?”

“Well,” he walks up right next to you, admiring the loft, “you know I don’t like being told I can’t do something.”

“You did this? By yourself?” The surprises keep coming and coming, and you’re pretty sure your jaw is permanently unhinged because of how wide your mouth is open in shock. He nods proudly, putting his hands on his hips. “Let me get this straight. You renovated this by yourself?”

“Not too bad, huh?” You scoff disbelievingly, still not believing what you were seeing. “What? Do you not like it?”

“Are you serious? ‘Not too bad’?”

“We can find a different—”

“No! God, you can be such an idiot at times,” you laugh, pulling him into a hug. “It’s perfect.” He pushes you back by your shoulders but so much so that your arms are still around his torso, eyes darting all over your face to see if you’re kidding.

“You really like it?” You fight back a grin—and fail—at how cute he can be at times, nodding your head eagerly.

“I love it! I could kiss you! I could. I mean, I’d like to. I. May I? We me? I mean, may we? Wait, what?” The gravity of what you just said slaps you right in the face, and you remove your hands from his figure and start to let your mind race for an excuse. “I didn’t mean to say that—”

“You want to kiss me?” he asks in a soft whisper with the smallest smile on his face. You get lost in how awed he looks, nodding slightly.

“I’ve wanted to. Since intern year…” you trail off, thinking it won’t hurt if you tell him a bit more. You’ve already caused enough damage.

You realize it’s definitely not damage when his lips come crashing down into yours and he pulls you into him, hands gently cupping your face.

It’s not a soft kiss, but it’s not a rough kiss, either. It’s a kiss that’s full of longing, emotions, and “I’ve wanted to do this for so long”. You’re so in shock that you don’t actually register when he pulls away, so your eyes stay closed for a couple seconds longer than they should. When you open them, you’re taken aback again by all the adoration swimming in his eyes. Your eyes are having their own conversation with his, silently telling each other everything you two couldn’t communicate verbally.

“You like me?” You’re almost sorry his words break the nearly magical moment, giving him a light slap upside the head.

“No, I just kissed you for the hell of it. Of course I like you, dumbass!”

“And you’ve liked me since intern year.” Even the insufferable grin on his face isn’t enough to make you regret kissing him, which is a first.

“Oh, shut up about it and kiss me again.”

Masterlist

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[wizardofrozz]

Welcome to Westview!

Warnings: none

A/N: On to the ‘70′s 😁 thank you all for the support, I love hearing everyone’s thoughts (I’m a hoe for validation 🤷‍♀️) 

Chapter 7

(Y/N) POV

           “Darling!” Loki yelled. I jolted up in bed, blinking a few times, shielding my eyes from the sun streaming into the room. “Breakfast, darling,” Loki called, his voice closer than before. I scooted back against the headboard, rubbing at my eyes; I heard Loki’s laugh, and I looked up to find him leaning against the door frame. I gaped, still blown away by my handsome husband. Loki wore onyx pants, a white button-up shirt tucked into them, and a shamrock green jacket that made his already bright green eyes seem even more vibrant. He moved from the doorway, leaning on the bed to kiss the tip of my nose; Loki leaned his forehead against mine, giggling softly. I tucked a stray shoulder-length curl behind his ear, trailing my fingers along his jaw, sending a shiver down his spine.

           “Hi, baby,” I whispered, pressing my lips to his.

           “Get dressed; breakfast is ready. Wanda already called this morning,” Loki mumbled, giving me one more chaste kiss before moving away. I groaned, falling onto my side but dragging myself out of bed. I decided on lavender palazzo pants and a black turtleneck shirt, glancing in the mirror, I releasing my hair from the braid, so it fell in soft waves around my shoulders. I smiled, making my way downstairs to join Loki for breakfast; Loki sat at the dining room table, reading the paper, sipping his coffee.

           “Smells good,” I chirped, dropping in the seat where my plate sat.

           “Mm, you look lovely, darling,” Loki said with a bright smile. I blushed, quickly bringing my coffee cup to my lips to hide it; Loki chuckled, turning his attention back to the paper. Loki and I made small talk as we ate breakfast together; Loki cleared the table as I flopped onto the couch and grabbed the phone, dialing Wanda’s number.

           Hello? Wanda greeted.

           “Hi, Wanda. Loki said you called,” I greeted, twirling a piece of my hair.

           Hi girl! Yes, you have to come over! I have some news, Wanda exclaimed.

           “Of course, did you call Nat already?” I asked, watching Loki move around the kitchen.

           Yeah, she was up already; unlike some sleepyhead, Wanda laughed.

           “Hey, my wonderful husband, let me sleep in,” I chuckled. Loki looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at me, but I just smiled, waving him off.

           Well, get over here. Nat will be here soon, Wanda replied. I opened my mouth to respond, but a loud knocking on the door cut me off; Loki looked over his shoulder again, narrowing his eyes at the door, then looked at me.

           “Hold on,” I said to Loki. “Wanda, I’ll be over soon; someone’s at the door.”

           No rush. See you soon, Wanda reassured.

           “Bye,” I mumbled, hanging up the phone. I met Loki halfway to the door, standing off to the side as Loki reached for the knob; I gasped when I caught a glimpse of the figure on the other side of the door, a huge smile spread across his face.

           “Brother?” Loki gaped. Thor stood on our porch, the polar opposite of Loki. His golden hair was hanging loose around his face; he wore pale blue slacks and a white and gray striped button-up shirt, making his skin look tanner.

           “Miss me?” Thor chuckled, stepping through the door, pulling Loki into a hug. Loki froze for a moment, his eyes the size of saucers, but I watched the shock melt away as he hugging his brother back. “It’s been too long.”

           “How long have you been here?” Loki asked, his voice muffled against Thor’s shoulder.

           “Not long; you’re my first stop,” Thor laughed, pulled away. Thor squeezed his brother’s shoulder before turning on me, his thousand-watt smile focused on me. “(Y/N)!” Thor shouted, sweeping me up in a bear hug.

           “God, I’ve missed you,” I croaked, my arms tightening around his neck.

           “I missed you too, pumpkin,” Thor mumbled into my shoulder. When Thor finally released me, I swiped away the stray tear that escaped; I glanced at Loki, my heart swelling at the happiness radiating off him.

           “How long are you staying?” I asked, looking at the clock in the kitchen.

           “A while, I found a nice house nearby,” Thor explained with a smile.

           “You’re moving here too?” Loki probed.

           “You talked so highly about it, and I found a nice, homey place. I thought it would be a good area to spend some time,” Thor finished with a shrug.

           “That’s great! I don’t feel so bad running out now,” I laughed. “Wanda needs me, and it sounded important.”

           “Of course, darling,” Loki replied, reaching for me. Loki pulled me into a tender kiss, making my head spin and butterflies erupt in my stomach. “I love you, little one.”

           “I love you too, trickster,” I chuckled, kissing him one more time. “I’ll see you later, Thor. I can’t wait to catch up.”

           “Bye, pumpkin,” Thor waved with a smile. I smiled at the nickname but collected myself and hurried out the door; I glanced over at Bucky and Steve’s house and saw them on the porch with Clint.

           “Loki, the boys are on the porch. Take Thor over,” I called back into the house before shutting the door. “Hi, boys!” I called.

           “Hey, doll!” Bucky called. “Come over.” I hurried down the steps, crossing through the grass between our houses and climbed the steps, stopping at the top.

           “Bucky bear,” I beamed. Bucky was lounging in his Adirondack chair right next to the door, running his hand through his hair that fell just above the collar of his white polo that was tucked into gray slacks.

           “Hi (Y/N),” Steve greeted with a bright smile. I waved at Steve, who sat in his own chair next to Bucky, mindlessly running his hands over the fabric of his black slacks. The sleeves of his red button were rolled up to the elbow, letting me see the muscles in his forearms moving as he rubbed his leg.

           “Heya (Y/N),” Clint greeted from his spot at the top of the steps, slinging his arm over my shoulders. I gave Clint a half hug, admiring the soft fabric of his black button-up tucked into his light blue jeans.

           “Where are you off to?” Bucky asked, his ice-blue eyes searching my face.

           “Wanda’s,” I replied, stepping out from under Clint’s arm.

           “Nat’s there now,” Clint confirmed.

           “Well, don’t want to keep the girls waiting,” I laughed, glancing towards my house, seeing the front door open.

           “What’s Loki doing? Send him over,” Steve said; Bucky nodded in agreement.

           “Looks like he’ll be over in a minute. I’ll see you boys later,” I called as I jogged down the steps. A chorus of goodbyes floated from the porch as I hurried towards Loki; I met him and Thor in the grass between the houses. I jumped up, kissing Loki’s cheek quickly as I jogged past, causing Loki to bark out a laugh.

           “I love you, you goof!” Loki yelled. I turned, jogging backward so I could face him, seeing the loving smile spread across his face as he watched me.

           “I love you too!” I yelled, laughing loudly. I hurried up to Wanda’s front door, waving at Herb as I passed; I knocked once and waited.

           “There you are!” Nat cheered, pulling me through the door. I caught sight of Wanda walked around the couch towards the door. Nat’s bright red hair was twisted up on top of her head, a few strands falling around her face; she wore black and white striped palazzo pants and a tight black polo.

           “You two both look so cute!” I exclaimed, but my face fell when I looked at Wanda closer. “What happened!”

           “That’s what I called about this morning,” Wanda mumbled, dropping her head.

           “You’re pregnant! Very pregnant!” I gaped, walking closer.

           “I said the same thing,” Nat chuckled, walking towards the couch again.

           “I was just as surprised!” Vision called from what I assumed was the nursery. I looked in as I followed Nat, smiling at the crib in the corner.

           “Vis and I have been reading all morning, preparing,” Wanda called as she walked into the kitchen. “Oh!” Wanda clutched her stomach, her face scrunching up.

           “Darling?” Vision said, now standing behind the couch.

           “Ooh! Do any of your books talk about this? It's not painful, but it's strange,” Wanda mumbles, rubbing her belly. Nat and I jumped off the couch, hurrying into the kitchen, each of us gripping an arm.

           “A tightening sensation?” Vision asks, moving to the dining room table.

           “Yep, that’s it,” Wanda managed to get out. Vision plops down at the dining room table, flipping through books at super speed.

           “Just breathing, honey,” I cooed, rubbing circles on her lower back.

           “Braxton Hicks contractions, also known as false labor, usually starts in the third trimester. Named after John Braxton Hicks in 1875-”.

           “Honey!” “Vision!” Wanda, Nat, and I shouted together.

           “Sorry. Yes. Yes. Oh! Excellent!” Vision hurries over with a book, skimming the text. “Gives us a chance to work on our breathing exercises. It should go like this,” Vision mumbled, then starts to mimic the breathing exercise. Wanda starts to copy him, so Nat and I join in, breathing with her.

           “There you go,” Nat encourages.

           “You’re doing great, honey,” I assured.

           “Yeah, it's not working. I can still feel it,” Wanda pants.

           “I’m sorry,” Vision stammered. Wanda groans, doubling over as much as possible when the lights start to flicker and the dishwater in the sink started to splash out. Wanda’s scream squeezes my heart, the pain in her voice bringing tears to my eyes.

           “What the... What the Dickens?” Vision stutters, getting more anxious.

           “What’s happening now?” Wanda panted, frantically looking at the three of us.

           “Let's abandon the kitchen!” Vision shouts, ushering us towards the living room. Appliances around the kitchen start to go nuts, then Wanda screamed again, the lights burning uncomfortably bright then the power cuts out. “It stopped.”

           “Yes. I'll go check on the neighbors,” Vision called as he ran for the door.

           “How are you feeling?” Nat asked, helping me set Wanda on the couch.

           “Okay now,” Wanda huffed, settling into the couch.

           “Do you need anything?” I asked, raking my eyes over her.

           “I could go for something sweet,” she confessed, a small smile pulling at her lips.

           “Nat and I can run into town if you’d like,” I offered.

           “Let’s go,” Nat piped up, pushing off the couch.

           “You two are the best,” Wanda sighed, smiling up at us. Nat and I leaned in, placing a kiss on either side of her face, causing her to giggle.

           “Now sit still until Vision gets back,” I warned, pointing at her.

           “Yes, ma’am,” Wanda chuckles, saluting me. I rolled my eyes, reaching for Nat, and pulled her towards the door.

           “We’ll be back soon!” Nat called as we walked out the door. Nat and I met Vision on the porch.

           “The entire blocks out,” Vision sighed.

           “Go tell Wanda. We’re running to town to get her something sweet,” I stated.

           “Thank you,” Vision huffed in relief.

           “Of course, Vis,” Nat said with a smile, pulling me off the porch.

           “When did Wanda get so pregnant?” I whispered when we were far enough from the house.

           “I have no idea!” Nat whispered. “But if you think about it, she’s a witch, and Vision is a synthazoid, so I’m not surprised it’s not a regular pregnancy.”

           “You’ve got a point there,” I noted, tilting my head to the side. About halfway to town, another figure came into our line of sight.

           “Geraldine!” Nat called, waving as we got closer.

           “Hi, Natasha!” Geraldine called, smiling. “You must be (Y/N). Wanda and Nat have told me about you.”

           “It’s wonderful to meet you,” I beamed, leaning in to give her a gentle hug.

           “Where are you ladies off to?” Geraldine asked.

           “Town. We needed to run to the store,” I answered, glancing at Nat.

           “Where are you heading?” Nat asked.

           “Wanda’s, I wanted to talk to her,” Geraldine said with a smile. I glanced at Nat, trying to hide the panic bubbling up in my stomach; Nat’s eyes mirrored the same alarm.

           “Uh, she’s a little under the weather today,” Nat stammered.

           “Oh, that’s terrible!” Geraldine fretted. “I’ll make it a quick visit. I’ll see you two later,” she said as she walked around us, hurrying towards Wanda’s house.

           “That’s not good,” I mumbled. “Should we turn around?”

           “No, it’ll look suspicious,” Nat sighed, running a hand over her face. “Let’s just get to the store and hurry back.” I nodded, and we started towards town, picking up our pace.

Chapter 8 | Series Masterlist

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[wkemeup]

By Any Other Name (Prologue)

series summary: When Special Agent Bucky Barnes is tasked with infiltrating the notorious gang Hydra and gathering evidence against its leader, Brock Rumlow, Bucky finds himself drawn to the woman who doesn’t seem to belong in this world of violence, the wife of the head of Hydra... you.  pairing: bucky x reader chapter word count: 2.3k warnings: bucky and sam being little shits, setting up the backstory 🌹series masterlist // series playlist

If there was one thing to know about Bucky Barnes, it was that he didn’t back down from a challenge; certainly not one from a former fighter pilot with a superiority complex and a loud mouth.  

Bucky stared down the end of the ring, circling with careful, steady steps as he sized up his prey. Sam Wilson rolled his eyes, a slight shake of his head, because he didn’t know quite yet the humiliation he was about to experience.  

It had been a while since Bucky had knocked Sam’s ego down a few notches and it was about time someone did something about his less-than-charming attitude. Sam was starting to talk a big game in front of the rookies and, well, Bucky couldn't have them thinking Sam was some kind of Bureau legend.

“You gonna make a move or what?” Sam jabbed, throwing his arms out to the side dramatically. He let out a groan that echoed through the rafters of the training gym. Always the dramatic one.  

Bucky snickered under his breath, patient, as he continued eyeing up Sam from the distance. 

His left arm was clasped behind his back, wrapped with tape meant to secure his fist in the ring, and he stretched the fingers in his right hand against his hip. A soft cracking released the air between his joints.  

Sam was the one with the brilliant idea to make a bet, in front of a cafeteria full of agents, that Bucky couldn’t get an opponent on the mat one-handed. It was a foolish mistake he was about to regret.  

Bucky charged at Sam, catching him off guard as he let out a grunt from the impact of Bucky’s shoulder diving straight into his stomach. Sam kneed him up into his chest and shoved Bucky off of him, full force of both hands straight to his collarbone, and sent him spiraling to the ground.

“Not so easy, huh?” Sam taunted, winking over at a the young female agent with strawberry blonde hair sweeping down her shoulders as she watched from beyond the ring. Sam didn't seem bothered in the slightest when she rolled her eyes at him and passed a few dollars to the agent on her left, nodding towards Bucky.  

Meanwhile, Bucky was back to his feet, jumping around on his toes, loosening his muscles and got back into position. His only free hand was held in front of him on the offense, his feet positioned slightly more than shoulder width apart, and he bent his knees, giving him the flexibility of movement and agility.  

He didn’t give Sam another chance to provoke him before threw a hit to the side of Sam’s jaw, enough to get him off balance, but not to leave bruising. Bucky knew better than to throw full force with a friendly in the ring, no matter how much of a pain in his ass Sam was, but it would certainly give him the advantage he needed. Maybe leave a red mark for an hour or so. Just enough to make him regret betting against his own teammate.  

Sam stumbled back from the impact of the hit and Bucky made a quick turn for a roundhouse kick where he’d usually use his left hand for additional damage. Sam grunted, knocking away Bucky’s leg before it could land and rushed at him. He got in a good hit on Bucky’s left side, but that was an easy move – some might say, a coward’s move – as he was defenseless on his left.

Though when Sam attempted to get him on that side again, Bucky turned his shoulder, blocking his left side from the attack and grabbing Sam’s wrist midair with his right. Sam looked at him with wide eyes, in shock, before Bucky simply smirked and kicked his right leg to the back of Sam’s knees.  

He let out a yelp as he knees buckles and it sent him tumbling onto the mat with a heavy thud. Bucky quickly took the advantage and threw the full of his bodyweight on Sam’s back. He settled in, purposely digging his tailbone into Sam’s spine and pushing as much as his weight onto him as he could.  

He sat there, whistling to himself as Sam started to scramble under him. The rookies were laughing under their breath as they watched in hoards beyond the edge of the ring. Seemed Sam’s challenge made rounds in the rumor mill and the new recruits wanted a front row seat to the Bureau’s top agents facing off in the ring.  

“You gonna get your fat ass off of me, tough guy?” Sam grumbled, trying to pull himself from under Bucky, but it was no use.  

“I don’t know, man, are you gonna apologize for thinking you had any chance in beating me in the ring, even with one arm tied behind my back?” Bucky taunted, grinning ear to ear as he glanced up to the ranking board hung from the rafters from their year in the academy. Sure, he was listed at number two, but his ego wasn't big enough to believe he’d ever take first when the All-American-Golden-Boy Steve Rogers was in play. At least he wasn’t sitting at fourth place like a certain incapacitated agent he knew.  

“Bite me, Barnes!”

“Maybe I will, don’t temp me.”

“I’m going to kill you. I’m actually going to kill you.”

“What in the hell are you two doing?!”

Bucky looked up to find Steve pushing his way through the hoard of rookies gathered off the side of the ring watching the match with handfuls of cash passing between pockets. Steve shoved his way to the front of the crowd, hands on his hips as he saw the two of them at the center of the ring. He slumped his shoulders, a heavy sigh on the exhale.  

“Do I have to ask?” he rolled his eyes, gesturing to Bucky’s hand tied behind his back and Sam’s constant wiggling around as he tried to escape from under Bucky’s weight. “You realize you’re acting like children, right?”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s not my fault he can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“I am going to mess you up so bad,” Sam threatened under his breath, but it was loud enough Bucky could hear it, so he leaned further against Sam’s back, adjusting his position as he wacked Sam on the back of the head. It pulled another groan out of him, at least, as he continued to try and crawl his way out. 

“Hey dummies,” another voice called, low and sultry, carrying over the rafters in an echo and sending a hush through the rookies despite the calm nature of the tone.  

Red hair tossed in a bun at the nape of her neck with loose strangles hanging out the sides, Natasha Romanoff eyed Bucky and Sam amusingly before she turned to Steve with raised brows. He shook his head in response.

“What’s up, Nat?” Sam asked nonchalantly as he propped his chin up on his hand, as if he wasn’t currently pinned under one-hundred-and-eighty pounds of muscle.

Nat smirked, lips pushing out as she leaned against the ropes of the ring. “Fury’s looking for us. We’ve got a new job.”

Steve started to break up the crowd as Bucky pulled himself to his feet. Sam, he noticed, was rather dramatic as he used the ropes for support and clutched onto his back as he walked, sending glares in Bucky’s direction.

“You gonna help me get this tape off my arm?” Bucky called after him, rather annoyed at his current predicament, but Sam only scoffed.  

He ended up roping some doe-eyed recruit from the Naval academy to unwrap his wrist and unwind the tape trapping his left arm to his side. The kid’s hand shook nearly the whole time.

***

Fury noticeably wasn’t pleased when he found Bucky and Sam shoving at each other like teenage brothers as they made their way into the conference room. Natasha was already seated at the front of the table, closest to the Director, and Steve was leaning against the wall, arms crossed as he sent them a warning glare.  

Bucky nudged Sam one last time and sent him a short wink before escaping to the chair closest to Steve. Sam slid in beside Natasha and they turned to the Director. He only had one good eye unobstructed by the black patch that sat over veined scars protruding from underneath and even still, Bucky could tell Fury had enough.  

“Now that we’re all settled,” he started calmly, though there was an accusation in his tone. Sam slumped into his seat as Fury slid a series of folders down the table, one for each of them. A projector lit up against the wall, displaying an image of an octopus-like creature with a skull for a head and six curving tentacles emerging from the center.  

“Hydra?” Nat questioned, surprised as she grabbed one of the folders from the middle of the table.  

Fury nodded, hands on his hips. He was proud, it seemed, like he’d been waiting on this one for a while.  

Bucky flipped open the file, a name listed in the top corner that was not his own, unlike the rest of his team sitting around him. Under it, an entire lifetime’s worth of history, of family memories and previous employments, of likes and dislikes. Bucky glanced over it, taking note of the important bullets, like the one that said he had a meeting with the head of Hydra in one week’s time.

It wasn’t the first identity he had taken on and he didn’t suspect it would be the last. Bucky Barnes had spent more of his time since his discharge from the Army and recruitment to the Bureau playing the part of a criminal than as himself.  

He had an exceptional ability to compartmentalize, to lock himself behind the walls he worked tirelessly to build. It was the reason he was able to so easily lose himself to any identity handed to him; read the file, learn the backstory, become someone new. It was refreshing, in a way, to escape from himself and into someone else entirely.

No strings. No commitments. Only the case. Only the end results.

Damn the collateral damage.  

His first cover was in an underground sex trafficking ring a few years back in Atlanta where he operated under the name Brian Victor. He worked his way into the system, posing as a John, walking amongst the likes of vile and heinous men, and dismantled the entire system from the inside, rescuing near sixty-seven young, terrified girls who had been kidnapped and brought across state lines.  

After that, he was employed on a weapons manufacturing plant in Alaska where he took on the role of Alex Smith, a low-level crewman on the shipment yard where mariners were importing illegal bumps and accessories from Russia. That job took him nearly a full year to complete but he didn’t mind that much. He’d liked the locals, poor suckers who found themselves roped up in a scheme far greater than any of them realized. He’d been sure to advocate for their release when they were taken in with the higher-ups.  

Only a week after the final trial, Bucky was given a new identity; one named Chris Roswell, a street seller for an extensive drug trafficking operation in Santa Barbara. Part of his identity was to infiltrate a crew of gang members on the west side that recruited vulnerable kids who shouldn’t have been out on the streets in the first place. He didn’t care for Chris Roswell much and he was happy to be rid of the character once the supplier was taken off the streets.  

In his most recent job, he spent few months as Noah Crestal, a wealthy businessman with an inherited trust fund, who ran with spoiled rich kids and call girls and disassembled an entire underground gambling ring in Baltimore.  

But he was never alone.

While he was on his own in the field, he had a team who kept an eye on him, watched his back, hacked into security systems, and made sense of the evidence he retained.

There was Steve Rogers, the team leader and Bucky’s best friend since childhood. An asthmatic, lanky sort of kid with a startling knack for trouble who grew up to be twice his own size. He finally learned to fit his reckless attitude into a body that could support a few punches and currently held the physical training course record at the Bureau.  

Then, there was Sam Wilson, a grade A pain in Bucky’s ass and a damn good fighter pilot in his air force days. Sam was responsible for making sense of the evidence Bucky brought back from his undercover meetups and monitoring for talk on Bucky’s identity, to ensure his cover was secure. When he wasn’t relentlessly mocking Bucky and flirting with the rookies, he was a decent agent and a better friend. He was a brother in arms and off the field. Fought like one, too.  

The last of the crew was Natasha Romanoff. A woman with more fire power in the tips of her fingernails than most men had in their entire body, Natasha was an ex-KGB agent who defected to the US following a shitshow of trauma and general maltreatment by her home country. She was the primary tech god in the Bureau and spent most of her time these days behind a keyboard. She’d spent enough time in the field and she wasn’t eager for more.  

This team was what allowed Bucky to take on new names, to dive deep undercover into new identities without fear of losing himself completely. There was always a hand stretching out to him to pull his body back to the surface when he needed it. He’d seen a lot in his years in undercover work, been asked to do things to protect his cover he’d never talk about again outside of his debriefings with Fury, and it was easy to forget who exactly Bucky Barnes was under all those lies.

His team kept him in track. It’s what made them so successful, how they were able to go from one city to the next, throw Bucky into a criminal underworld with a new name, and bring massive operations to justice.  

New name. New city. New criminals to take down.

James Karpov was just the next name on the list.

“Rumlow’s down a hitman,” Fury explained, clicking the remote on the slide as a man with dark brown hair and cold, brown eyes appeared on the screen.  

Bucky had seen that face before. He'd heard about the infamous mafia boss Brock Rumlow and his extensive team of lawyers who have been able to get him out of every charge the NYPD has been able to throw in his direction.  

He saw to the distribution of fentanyl laced drugs to the street of New York, the manufacturing of assault weapons, and the ordering of dozens of executions in the last month alone. He was a monster by anyone’s standards and Bucky could already feel the eagerness churn in his stomach. This was a job he was going to enjoy.  

“This is Jack Rollins,” Fury said as an image of a mug shot appeared next to Rumlow’s. “He was Rumlow’s last enforcer before he had the unfortunate luck of actually being arrested for his crimes. Damn field day down at the DA’s office when they finally nailed him.” Fury clicked to the next image as a crime scene photo displaying a very discolored Rollins lying with his eyes open, arm handing off the side of the bed. “He was also conveniently murdered in lock up while awaiting trial just a few days ago.”

“Bummer,” Sam snickered, nudging Natasha’s shoulder and earning a smirk in response. Rollins was behind dozens of murders under his time in Hydra. It was no real loss.

“This is our opportunity to infiltrate Hydra,” Fury continued, ignoring Sam’s remark. He leaned further onto the conference table, black leather of his trench coat swinging at his knees. “Barnes will meet with Rumlow next week to take on the role of the enforcer.”

“So, like a job interview?” Natasha raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.  

Fury shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose.”

Bucky thumbed through the file, skimming at the pages of information on Rumlow and his known associates; glancing over decades of monstrous crimes and gruesome crime scene photos. It was all pretty standard, nothing exceptionally out of the ordinary, except for Rumlow’s inflated ego and knack for theatrics. 

The pages were filled with crimes he’d been arrested for, crimes he’d been suspected of, and the all the ones in between. Each with their own summary as to why he was never brought it, why the charges were dropped, or how witnesses suddenly went missing hours before the trial, how evidence disappeared from lock up before it could be submitted to the court. Brock Rumlow was an entitled piece of work, it seemed, though that was no news to Bucky. 

Then, towards the back of the file, Bucky stumbled upon a single page nestled into the binding, one that took him by surprise because the image in the top right corner wasn’t that of a mugshot or one taken from a surveillance camera, it was an employee ID from Columbia.  

A bright, vibrant smile and eyes that lit up on the page, it seemed incredibly out of place amongst Rumlow’s rap sheet. Below the image, accomplishments were listed of various degrees held, charity functions hosted, employment at a prestigious university teaching courses in literary fiction and writing composition. All of which seemed to come to an abrupt halt three years ago.  

Bucky wondered if the page had been put in his file by mistake. That was, until he saw the last name listed in the top right corner.  

Y/n Rumlow. Wife of the head of Hydra.

Fury straightened his back, glancing down at his team as they absorbed themselves in the files, Steve already making notes in the margins as Natasha pulled out her laptop and the small clicks of her keyboard filtered through the concentrated silence. Sam was on his phone, calling up a contact from his former air force days who might have had some knowledge of the Rumlow family, but Bucky... Bucky was still stuck on the last page, the page with the woman who didn’t seem to fit in this world of crime and violence.  

“Get acquainted with your new identity, Barnes,” Fury ordered. “We’re taking down Hydra.”

[persephonesinfernos]

constellations | part six.

summary: there are only 88 officially recognized constellations, a small number considering you and your soulmate would have the exact same constellation on your skin. how can be sure if it was really them with so few of them? you could mistake your soulmate.

word count: 1578.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader.

warnings: abusive boyfriends, violence.

constellations masterlist | masterlist

Bucky did not appear, Nat did not appear. No one appeared for that matter. Not a knight in shining armour was running towards you to save the day. No, you were alone with someone you used to love and trust when it happened.

This was not a movie, nothing could’ve saved you from happening. This was real life and real life is hard, impartial and fucked up. You were not the first woman who has gone through this and you will not be the last one.

The slap to your face was not what hurt more of this situation. Neither were the successive hits you took from Erik. That was nothing, just physical pain that would go away.

What hurt most about the situation you were currently in was how you felt your heart shattered into a million pieces. How the love and adoration you once felt for someone were replaced by horror and fear. How your trusting persona was no longer there. Hit by hit, your whole being kept breaking down more and more, just as your cheeks and lips did.

The sun rays did not wake you up, you were not able to fall asleep after the beating.  Erik did not leave your side, he stayed over. His body pressed to yours, arms around you. Once in a protective way, not anymore. You haven’t dared to move an inched in case Erik noticed, well just breathing was hurting you.

He was clever, he’d hit you in places the bruises wouldn’t be too prominent and that you only could see once you were undressed. Expect for those in your face, that you were sure were placed there so every time you look yourself in the mirror you would know who you belong to.

Those were the words used by him along with some other nasty comments. Just the memory made you flinch.

Erik started to stir next to you, he was waking up. You held your breath, tears threatening to spill. When he was fully awake, he kissed your cheek.

“Morning love.” He said smiling as if nothing’s ever happened. You stood still, not being able to move. “I love you so much, you cannot imagine (Y/N).” His words almost made you puke right there.

“I need to go, I’ll see you at the end of your classes. You know where I’ll be” His voice made you feel chills all over your body and it ached, it ached so much due to the already formed bruises on your stomach and shoulders and to your broken soul. This time not a single tear could be kept.

You looked at your reflection on the mirror, you were a mess. Not even a shower could have helped you. The bruises and cuts on your once smooth skin seemed to be highlighted by the shower you just took.

How could you let this happen? How could you not see that? You were so fucking stupid and naïve, and now… Now.

You broke down crying hard, knees on the cold bathroom floor. You had no strength to support yourself up, everything was spinning. Panic was setting in and you could not breathe or you were breathing too much. Hyperventilating? Shit, panic attack.

Break through this (Y/N). You thought, do it for you. So you pulled all your strength together and got up. Hands clenching the sides of your bathroom counter, looking one more to yourself in that fucking mirror.

Something went wild inside you. With a scream you threw you fist to the mirror, destroying it.

This was not your fault, you should’ve not seen it coming. ‘Cause it is not your damn fault, it was only his. No other girls saw it coming when it happened. You would not endure comments as “it is your fault, you laid eyes on another man”. Well, you were free to feel love or to stop feeling it, you never promised anyone your undying love or your life. Your feelings were allowed to change and disappeared.

And you would not endure comments about Erik being just concern and jealous. No, you wouldn’t. You were sick and tired of this idea planted on everyone’s brains about how jealousy means concern and to keep someone safe. No, it does not. Jealousy is a scourge in this society, it means possession and not trusting and to want to be in control of your partner and all their actions.

The mere course of your thoughts made you puke all over the sink, but you didn’t matter. This was ending today, you were not going to be more afraid. Not gonna let Erik made you feel like last night, fuck him and fuck his bullshit.

Your apartment phone ring, you picked up.

“(Y/N)? I’m Steve, Steve Rogers. I was trying to get a hold of you but your mobile phone is dead or something.” You heard him.

“Yeah, sorry about it. How’s everything?” You answered him.

“Fine, but I need you in here in an hour tops to start your internship. Can you make it?”

You arrived in time to the base, make-up covering all your scars. Battle scars, that’s what you decided to call them.

As you entered the room you locked eyes with Bucky, you forgot about him with all the crap that went down. You instantly felt guilty and sad as you saw the sadness and confusion in his breathtaking eyes. He looked away, as he did not know you, it broke your heart even more. Something you couldn’t believe.

“(Y/N), I’m glad you could make it,” Steve said to you while patting your right shoulder. The touched sent a wave of pain all over your body and even though you tried not to flinch, a pained emotion flashed through your face. Steve was not aware but Bucky did, Bucky noticed every single detail about you.

“Had nothing better to do and this gives me a good excuse to not attend classes so…” You chuckled. Your eyes searched for Bucky’s, but he kept staring straight.

“Well, education is important young lady.” You rolled your eyes at his comment. “I just want you to get familiarized with the base of operations and where you’ll be working. So not a too rough star. Bucky will be your supervisor, I get a feeling that you two would get along.” Your jaw clenched and you gulped.

Steve eyed you, sensing the tension on your body. “I gotta go, have a nice day and whatever you need, give me a call.”

Bucky still didn’t glance at you and you couldn’t stand it so you walked to him “Hey, I’m sorry about…”

“I called you, too many time that I lost count.” He decided to look down on you, betray in his eyes. “You promised you’d be back (Y/N), you promised me.” He said with a slightly plead for an explanation.

“I know but things went crazy and by the time I was done with Erik I just couldn’t move and fell asleep.” You said softly reaching your hands to his. You did not lie, just omitted the whole truth.

He seemed to buy it and that only made the knot on your stomach to get tighter. “Okay, okay.” He let out a breath that was mixed with a light laughter, his other hand running through his brunette locks.

His hands reached to your shoulders to get you closer to him, it hurt but you said nothing. That was until he kissed you, your lips were broken and the lipstick could cover much but as he was kissing you they started to itch and burn, making you pull away with a pained groan.

Bucky observed you carefully, worry setting in his beautiful features. “Why is your lip bleeding?” His comment made you reached your lips with your fingers.

As you noticed the metallic taste of the blood in your tongue and the red colour of it in your finger you, alarm was all you could feel. You stepped back not daring to look at Bucky.

“(Y/N)?” His tone was a mixture of concern and anger. He strode to you and if it wasn’t for this current situation you would be turned on by this.

He grabbed your wrist gently “Look up at me doll, please. Let me help you”.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I just….” No more words came off your mouth but you didn’t cry this time, just looked down at your feet.

He reached to your waist to pull you in for a hug and this time you couldn’t help it. You flinched to his touch and whimper loudly.

He, Bucky, your soulmate searched for the origin of your pain and reached to pull your shit up and saw a giant bruise on your right hip. Clenching his left fist to his side, his jaw shut down and reached for your shoulder. This area was worse, besides the purple bruise, there were some cuts could re-open anytime soon, too recently done that were red.

“WHO. DID. THIS?” He whisper-shouted to you. “IT WAS THAT FUCKING ERIK SCUMBAG, WASN’T IT?” Your eyes not meeting his yet. “This is the reason you weren’t able to come back to me.” He stated, an interrogation tone in his voice.

Your lips quiver, a single tear fell on Bucky’s hand and he lost it.

“I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.” He said as he stormed off the room. He was fuming enraged.

Constellation Tag List: @zizzlekwum​ |

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Family - 1

The Tower: Family An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1963

Warnings:  Sex talk and pregnancy talk on this chapter, smut, angst, pregnancy, mentions of childhood abuse on series.

Synopsis: With new powers, Thor now living on Earth full time, a wedding to plan, and Natasha and Wanda expecting, a lot is changing for Elly and her large and rather unconventional family.  When Elise’s parents try to reestablish connections, Elly questions what being a family actually means.

Author’s Note: @fanficwriter013 helped me build this world and helped write the first few chapters.  I am forever grateful to her.  I love this series and can’t quite seem to let it go.

Chapter 1: Big Plans

It’s strange how a month can feel like both a blink of an eye and an eternity all at once.  We returned to Earth and everything got busy all at once.  There was work to catch up on.  Avengers stuff had piled up.  Plus, Steve wanted me to train in case they did need me for end-of-the-world things.  There were all the things related to the move back to the Tower.  Plus, Tony and I went into wedding planning mode.  We wanted to just get it over with quickly but we didn’t just want to head to the county courthouse either.  And in the meantime, we all just missed Thor.  Knowing he was going to be back for good just made us miss him even more and even with the days feeling too short to fit everything in, the countdown seemed to drag on.

It was good being busy but I was starting to feel the stress.  I don’t think Steve was really loving the idea of training me, and I wanted to tell him not to worry about it.  That I didn’t want that life.  That didn’t seem fair though.  I could lift Mjolnir.  That meant something.  I couldn’t just selfishly sit at home while my family risked their lives.  The wedding plans weren’t exactly easy either.  We wanted to do it as soon as Thor got back which meant doing everything in two months and just finding a venue alone was hard.  Everything was booked and with the need for privacy on top, the ones that weren’t were not ideal.  The tower was taking a little longer than expected.  I think the stress was getting to me so much I was overthinking everything.  Like we’d had too good of a run and now it was going to fall apart. With my new powers, I now had threads that only I could see that connected me to members of my family and told me where they were and if they were okay.  I would check them constantly worried that something bad was going to happen.  The threads that connected me to Natasha and Wanda seemed to be fraying at the connection to them, and even though when I touched them they seemed content, I kept thinking they were planning to leave us.

“I don’t know, Tony.  I like the idea of a private island but every time I call them they’re booked up,” I complained as I sat in his lap and we looked over wedding destinations.

“You’ve been name dropping right?  That normally does the trick,” Tony teased as his finger slowly caressed over my stomach.

“Yes,” I admitted.  “And I hate it, but still, this is people’s weddings.  Even offering to pay to relocate them isn’t working.  I swear we could buy an island and we’d have more luck.”

“Alright, so we buy an island,” Tony said.  “Richard Branson owns ones.  I guess I can too.  And we can go there for our anniversary.”

I laughed and shook my head.  “Simple, low key wedding it is,” I said as I brought up a website devoted to the buying and selling of islands.  There was a surprisingly large number of them and we narrowed it down to an island in the Caribbean with a fully functional hotel, one in the Maldives that seemed close to not being an island anymore but did have a small hotel comprising of bungalows and an island in Belize that had a small compound like structure that would require us hiring staff to run and flying in all the things we needed for our wedding.

“So, I’m going to send these to Nat and Wanda and let them decide,” Tony said and swiped them into little folders with Natasha and Wanda’s name on it.  “Don’t you worry though, honey.  Our wedding will be small, low key and just us.  Then we’ll spend two weeks on the beach while the kids stay with Sam’s sister.  And when we get back, the Tower will be ready to move into.”

I hummed and leaned my head back on his shoulder.  “It’s going to be so nice.”

He slowly kissed his way along my shoulder to my neck as his hand continued to caress my stomach.  “So I’ve been thinking…”

“You’re always doing that,” I teased playfully, turning my head and nosing at his cheek.

“Well, yes,” he said, a little nervously.  “No.  Sorta…”

I sat more upright and turned to look at him.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said.  “I just… We’ve been happy, haven’t we?  All of us.  Since the kids were born.  I really like being a dad.”

I smiled softly and caressed his jaw with my thumb.  “Yeah.  Really happy.  I can feel it now too.”

“I want us to have more,” he said.  “Kids that is.  I kinda… I want to make one with you.”

I stared at him in disbelief, though I could feel through the thread how much he wanted this and how nervous he was I was going to say no.  “Really?  You’re sure?”

“You make really pretty babies,” he said.

I smiled and leaned my forehead against his, tears pricking my eyes.  “I’d be so happy.”

“Is that a yes?”  He asked.  “We can make a little Stark/Cooper baby?”

I let out a breath.  I wanted this so much.  I’d had dreams about getting pregnant again.  This time because everyone wanted it.  And this time around everyone being excited from the start and having the support I didn’t get the last time.  Seeing our family grow more.  But I couldn’t agree until I knew I’d get it.  I couldn’t go through what I did last time.  “We need to talk to the others.  That means Thor too.  I need for them to agree to having more kids and that they’re okay with both knowing you’re the biological father or if we just have me go off birth control and whatever happens happens.”

Tony nodded and rubbed my back  “Okay.  It’s okay,” he said.  “It’ll be different this time.  We’re all here now, El.  And if they just want the paternity to be random.  I’d be okay with that too.  I just… I really love being a dad.”

I nuzzled into his neck, one tear breaking free and running down my cheek.  “I love you,” I whispered.  “And I do want this.  More than anything.”

“I know,” he said, holding me close.  “I love you too.”

He held me like that for a little while, just gently rubbing my back, when a large crack of thunder sounded outside and it started bucketing down rain.  I sat up suddenly and looked out of the window.  “Is it Thor do you think?”

“Gotta be,” Tony said, patting my ass so I’d get up.

I jumped to my feet and the two of us rushed outside.  The rain was coming down heavily and Bruce was outside with the kids and the puppies, looking up at the sky.  I moved up beside him, still being sheltered by the awning of the house.  “Is it him?”

Bruce smiled and looked down at me.  He was in his blended form.  The one he took most of the time these days.  He’d lean into Bruce more in the bedroom or the lab, or Hulk when he was playing outside with Clint and the kids.  But mostly he was both at once, working in harmony.  “The atmospheric readings are consistent with the Rosenberg Bridge opening.”

To back up Bruce’s words, a huge crash sounded again and a large beam of rainbow-colored light seemed to crash into the ground.  When it cleared Thor was standing in the middle of a circle of Celtic knotwork burned into the ground.  The twins squealed in delight and ran out into the rain to greet him.  Thor smiled and the rain stopped like he’d flicked a switch on it.  He scooped them up when they reached him and held them above his head.

“Children!”  He boomed.

“Daddy!”  They both squealed at once, kicking their legs.  He pulled them into a hug and closed his eyes, smiling contentedly as they nuzzled into him.  Tony, Bruce, and I approached him and when we got close he put both onto one arm and cradled my jaw with the other.

“Mea Vida,” he hummed and kissed me deeply.  I melted into him, wrapping my arms around his waist.

“Thor!  We didn’t expect you back yet!” Bruce said, smiling.

Thor broke his kiss with me and Bruce leaned down and pecked Thor’s cheek before Tony moved in and did the same.  “All is running well on Asgard.  I have Heimdall watching over things.  He will call me if needed.”

“So this is it?” I asked, looking up at him. “You’re home now?”

He smiled contentedly.  “Yes.  I’m home.”

“Come on,” Tony said, clapping him on the shoulder.  “Let’s get you inside.  We have a lot to tell you about.  In fact, your timing is perfect.  He looked at me with a small smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eye.  It did feel like a sign.  This was the day we would agree to extend our family.

“I misted you,” Pietro said as we made our way back inside with the dogs, dancing around at our feet.

“I missed you too, my darling one,” Thor said, affectionately.  “What have you been doing since I saw you last?”

“Umm…” Pietro pondered.

“We pwayed and deys take us pwaces.  We did see a schoowl,” Riley explained.

“And I dot my books,” Pietro added.

“Those all sound wonderful,” Thor rumbled and kissed them both on the head, before putting them down.  He took a seat on the couch and both the twins and the dogs climbed up into his lap.

“FRIDAY, tell the cook to make a large lunch for everyone and that Thor’s here so whatever they think is normal, double it,” Tony said as he took a seat.  “And page the others.”

“Of course,” FRIDAY replied.

“Daddy,” Pietro said as he climbed up onto Thor’s shoulders.  “Wiwl Woki come?”

“On occasion, little one,” Thor answered.  “Loki has a very important responsibility in Asgard now.”

“Wiwl Mags come?”  Riley added.

Thor laughed and ruffled her hair.  “No, honey.  I’m afraid not.  But I will take you back to your homeworld from time-to-time and you will see him.”

I started to get impatient and I ran my fingers through the threads that connected me to the others and tugged on the ones that belonged to Clint, Natasha, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda.

“Did you just pull me?”  Clint said, coming into the room.

“I did,” I answered.  “Thor’s home!”

Clint grinned and came over, kissing Thor, before flopping on the chair beside him.

“Space husband!”  Steve called as he entered the room with Bucky.

“I’m not your space husband any longer.  I’m home for good,” Thor said, getting up and greeting the two super-soldiers with a tight hug and a kiss.

“You are!”  Wanda squeaked as she entered with Sam.

Thor turned to Sam and Wanda and a large smile broke out on his face as he pulled them into his arms.  “You have been busy while I was away,” he said.  Wanda looked up at him confused when Natasha finally arrived.  “Very busy indeed.”

“What do you mean?”  Wanda asked.

“You and Natasha, you’re both with child,” Thor said, looking at the both of them confused.   “You didn’t know?”

I looked from Wanda to Nat and the sudden realization that the fraying of the threads was the starting of new ones connected me to the babies they were carrying.  I couldn’t believe I hadn’t realized it sooner.

Natasha looked at Thor with her jaw dropped.  “I’m sorry, but I’m what?”

// NEXT

[buckyswinterbaby]

Leave A Light On — AU Series Chapter 1

Song: Leave a Light On by Tom Walker/ Home by Matt Gresham

Word Count: 1,923

Summary: The Avengers are left shattered after the loss of Clint and Tony while fighting to save the world from Thanos. After going their separate ways to grieve, Steve and Natasha find their way back to each other, in need of a friend and a place to call home.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: language, fluff, angst, death mention, grief, eventual friends to lovers, eventual OC inclusion (not sure if that needs a warning but I don’t really wanna get complaints 😂).

Please like and reblog (I love that shit)! Click here to fill out the form to be added to my tag list!

Divider is made by me. Please ask permission before using it.

Next Chapter: Chapter 2

Note: This is the first part in my series called “Leave a Light On” (originally posted on Instagram) that initially focuses primarily on Steve and Natasha but eventually branches out to a few other main characters like Bucky Barnes as well as OC characters as new program recruits. If that’s not your cup of tea, that’s perfectly fine, I just thought I’d share and see if anyone likes it. Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list!

The wet roads reflected the bright headlights of Steve’s car as he sped down the highway late at night on his way to Natasha’s. Months had passed since their mission to gather the infinity stones and their last stand against Thanos and his army. Months since Clint gave his life in exchange for the soul stone and Tony sacrificed himself to end the battle. After Tony’s funeral, Steve had returned the stones to their rightful places and went back to get his dance with Peggy; but, he decided that his place was still with his family in the present.

He still wondered how life went for her and her husband, but he could rest easy knowing they got their closure and she had a happy life. Despite the urges he had to stay and beget his chance at a life with her, he knew he had people who needed him. Bucky, who he had fought so hard to get back and was still coping with what Hydrahad done. Sam, who had been thrown into this world of superheroes and villains. Wanda, as she came to terms with losing Vision. Thor, who was clearly still struggling with all he had lost. Morgan and Pepper, as they adjusted to a life without Tony. Natasha, as she grieved the loss of her best friend and attempted to help Laura rebuild her life without Clint. He knew that his work was far from over.

Steve pulled into one of the open parking spots outside Natasha’s apartment building and quickly pulled his hood up over his head before he stepped out into the downpour of rain. A chill ran through him as the cool water and late night air worked its way into his bones.

It had been a couple of weeks since he last visited the assassin's apartment, a desperate attempt to give her some of the space she demanded so she wouldn’t push him further away. Natasha had gone into a reclusive state after Clint died during their mission. Some believed it was simply survivor’s guilt; but Steve knew that feeling all too well. The nightmares of a dear friend plummeting to their death hit too close to home.

He let his eyes close for a moment as the look on Natasha’s face after the realization set in flashed before his eyes. The tears that ran down her cheeks in that moment as she announced to the team the price that had just been paid stung as coldly as the rain that soaked his sweatshirt did now. Eyes that pleaded for this to be just another bad dream in a string of nightmares.

"In order to take the stone, you must lose that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul, for a soul."

The soldier urged himself forward and into the dimly lit hallway of Natasha’s building, he scanned the doors that still had numbers nailed to them to find the one that housed his friend for the past few months. The apartments all looked run down, even a bit ominous in the dark. It all nearly reminded him of the shady alleyways he always managed to get into fights in. Eventually, Steve found his way to Natasha’s apartment and he let out a deep breath before lowering his hood and knocking firmly on her door. After a few moments had passed with no response, he knocked a bit harder, concern etched itself onto his already serious features.

Had he left her to grieve alone for too long? Not long enough? This was uncharted territory for him and he truly wished he could ask Barton for advice in this moment; but that was the problem. He was dead and Natasha felt alone in the world again.

A breath he didn’t realize he was holding in was finally released as he heard the deadbolt to her door click open. Knowing she was most definitely armed, he relaxed his expression and body to show the woman that he was here as a friend. The moment he laid his eyes on her he saw how deeply she had been feeling the loss. Her hair was styled into the braid she had become accustomed to in recent years but it was clear it was braided days ago. Tired eyes recognized him as no threat and she lowered her weapon with a heavy sigh.

“What are you doing here, Steve?” she questioned, her jaw was set firmly to attempt her trademark ‘emotionless’ expression.

Steve saw right through her cover and offered her a small smile, “I didn’t want you to be alone. It’s time to come home, Nat.” The tone of his voice was full of emotion despite his intention of remaining calm. The fact was, he was worried for her. Grieving was hard enough with support but she felt it was her demon to fight alone.

“The compound was destroyed in the explosion, I’m fine right where I am,” she looked away as she blinked back tears, waiting a moment before facing him again.

He shook his head incredulously, “Really, Nat? Because you certainly don’t look fine and you haven’t been answering my calls for days. We had a deal, you know. I would give you the space you wanted if you promised to keep in contact so I knew you were okay.” His voice trailed off at the end, clearing his throat before he spoke again, “you scared the shit out of me. Pack your bags, you’re coming with me. It isn’t up for debate anymore.”

“The hell I am,” Natasha scoffed, moving to close the door on him but his hand moved out to stop it. In one fluid movement, Steve slipped through her doorway and into her nearly bare apartment. Apart from a few pieces of essential furniture the only decode was the weapons that had been strewn across the room. Had roles been reversed, she likely would’ve made a comment about how pathetic the place looked. Instead, Natasha sent a harsh glare to the back of his head, “please, just leave, Steve. I’m sorry that I worried you but you need to respect that this is what I want.”

“Is this what Barton would’ve wanted for you?”

“Don’t,” she snapped, “don’t you dare use him against me, Rogers.”

Steve turned to face her again as he stood in the center of her living room, if it could even be considered that. “He was your best friend. That’s exactly how I know he’d kick your ass if he saw what you were doing to yourself. He’d probably kick mine, too, for letting you get away with it for this long, despite my better judgment.” He waited a few moments before speaking again, gathering his thoughts as everything that had occurred in the past years swirled in his mind like a whirlwind of emotions. “Since we met, you’ve had my back. You went out of your way to help me when I lost Peggy and you put yourself at risk to protect Bucky and I, even when we weren’t on the same side. You were always there. Please, Natasha, let me be there for you now because I’m not going to give you an alternative option this time. So you can punch me and scream, if you really want to. You can try to push me away again but I will still be here, for as long as it takes.”

Nat’s resolve started to crumble as she continued to hold back the wave of tears that threatened to spill. She spoke again, this time in a near whisper that pleaded for Steve to listen before her emotions took over, “please…”.

“No,” he stated again, his features softening as he saw his words were getting through to her, “I’m not going out that door until you’re walking out with me and a duffle bag.”

“Can I be in the duffle bag?” she attempted to joke with a sad smile, the tears finally spilling down her flushed cheeks. “He’s really gone, isn’t he?”

Steve cleared his throat and stepped closer before he pulled her into a hug. “He is, yes. But you’re still very much alive and what you’re doing here, it isn’t healthy. You should be with family.” He held her as she finally broke down for the first time in weeks and allowed her grief to flood out. Steve only held her tighter and tucked her head under his chin as she gripped the drenched fabric of his sweatshirt, his eyes clenched shut as they stood together in her apartment. They stayed like that until she stopped shaking and cried all she had to give. He pulled back enough to tuck a loose strand of hair that escaped her braid back behind her ear and looked her in the eyes repeating what he had said when he first arrived, “It’s time to come home, Nat.”

A moment later, Natasha nodded in agreement and the two pulled apart to start gathering the few belongings she cared to take with her. They packed everything she decided to take into a small bag that Steve slung over his shoulder and motioned for her to head for the front door. They made their way out into the parking lot of her complex, sure steps splashed lightly in the puddles left from the rain that had long since concluded. Steve placed her bag in the backseat before entering the driver’s side and starting the engine once she was buckled in.

He wasted no time before pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road that would take them to the site of their new compound he had been working on since Tony’s funeral and the stones were back in their rightful place. He hadn’t told Natasha of his plans during all that time, not wanting to place any more stress on his friend’s shoulders than what she already had. The pair drove in near silence the whole way, only breaking it to ask the occasional question about what had been going on in the other’s life.

When Steve pulled into the long driveway of the compound, Natasha was visibly confused as her eyebrows furrowed together. “Where are you taking me, Rogers? I know I’ve been a pain in your ass, but taking me out to the middle of nowhere to kill me is a bit much.”

The soldier rolled his eyes and looked over at her as they pulled up to a large complex, still partly under construction, with only the internal lights shining through the windows to separate the building from the night sky behind it. “I already told you, I’m taking you home. It’s still a work in progress, but it’s a start,” he explained, a light smile on his lips. He watched as Natasha admired the structure and how he had taken pieces of architecture from the original compound and included it in the new design. “We can’t begin to replace those we’ve lost, no one can replace Tony and Clint. But, we can work to build a new team that will step up after we’re no longer able to do this job, the next generation of Avengers. I understand if you don’t feel like you’re in the place to be involved with the program but the doors will always be open to you regardless. Welcome to the Avengers Initiative Program.”

She tore her eyes away from the compound to look over at him, only illuminated by the lights on the dash. “It’s perfect, Steve. It’s home.”

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

Right or Wrong

Well, this one is for @grahoundart, who got my brain going on the idea of Loki rescuing a damsel in distress from the gif below (imagine him saying “She’s mine”. This is what came of it. It does lean into the damsel in distress trope a bit, so if that’s not your cup of tea, you might not want to read.

Warnings: Implied smut, alcohol consumption, and the beginnings of non-consenting touching from a man to a woman. I will put the threats of such acts in between asterisks so you can skip over that part, if you wish.

“Just one drink! And if you don’t drink, just come and hang out. Everyone will be there,” Nat coaxed you good-naturedly with a winning smile and elbow nudged into your ribs. “Plus, I hear Thor is dragging Loki along.”

You rolled your eyes, gathering your notes and carefully organizing them into your satchel to take home for the evening. “Nobody can drag Loki along to anything.”

She shrugged. “True, but I hear he’s coming. I’ve noticed how you look at him during meetings.”

You didn’t realize you had been that obvious. It was completely inappropriate for you to have anything more than a professional interest in the tall, dark, and intimidating god given your position in public relations for the Avengers. But you couldn’t help but be drawn to the devilishly handsome man with his arresting emerald eyes that seemed to stare straight into your very soul. You longed to work the tension from his shoulders with a gentle caress, discover if his jaw was truly as sharp as it appeared or if his lips could twist and give into anything besides a disdainful frown or sarcastic smirk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you bluffed, dropping your eyes to your hands fidgeting with a collection of sticky notes.

She patted you on the shoulder. “Sure you don’t. We’re all meeting up around ten, unless the world ends before then. See you there.”

You grumbled incoherently at her retreating back, putting a bit more force into your packing up even as your heart raced at the possibilities the evening hinted at. 

What would one drink hurt?

~

“I’m only here to make sure that you don’t get yourselves into trouble!” you insisted loudly over the loud music streaming from the jukebox beside you, taking a sip of the drink she’d shoved into your hand as soon as you’d appeared. “Not to socialize.”

“Whatever you say,” Nat agreed, leaning back against the bar you sat at, eyeing the crowd at your back. “So you don’t care at all that Loki and Thor just walked in? And that they’re walking toward us right now looking like sex on two legs?”

You choked, coughing against the burn of the alcohol seizing your lungs, leaning against the worn wooden bar for support. 

A hand, warm and large, patted and rubbed at your back in turn, accompanied by a silken voice you’d recognize anywhere murmuring in your ear. “Easy, sweetling. It isn’t yet late enough for me to steal your breath away.”

Heat flushed beneath the skin of your cheeks and neck at the salacious timbre of his richly accented voice. You turned just enough to look him in the eye. He was so close that any movement from either of you would touch your lips together. Were they soft and pillowy? Did they taste like toothpaste or the alcohol that lightly scented his breath as it teased against your neck?

The logical side of your brain took control over the carnal needs sending your thoughts into a flurry. It wasn’t proper to even begin to think that way. He was your client, and you couldn’t mix business with pleasure. And judging by the desire that darkened his gaze as his eyes darted to your painted lips and his hand traveled lower to smooth over the small of your back, he could give you pleasure.

You cleared your throat, straightening up and taking a gulp of your drink to give yourself something - anything - to focus on besides Loki at your side. His hand left your back so he could take his own drink, and he stood in the spot Nat just vacated without so much as a second glance in your direction. He chose to stare out over the crowd instead, his eyes lighting on the rest of the crew clustered around a series of pushed together tables before scanning the other patrons with nothing but boredom settling on his finely-sculped features.

“Milady! How are you this fine evening?” Thor’s pleasant voice practically boomed out over everything else as he stood beside his brother, holding a frosted mug of beer so large that it was almost comical.

You fell into easy conversation with the golden god, interrupted on occasion by a random Avenger strolling up and giving an enthusiastic greeting on their way to grab another round for everyone else. Loki’s eyes lingered on you from time to time, dragging down your body and lighting an inferno in their wake that you longed for him to smother with his lips and calloused fingertips. Somehow you managed to keep your cool, channeling all of your desire and tension into the white knuckles that clutched your drink as if it could stop your heart from jumping out of your chest and into his waiting hands.

At one point the nervous drinks you had consumed finally got to you, and you excused yourself to the ladies’ room. No amount of splashing cool water on your face was going to calm your frazzled nerves, even if it did feel amazing. You adjusted your shirt as you walked out, bumping into a wall of a man in your brief moment of distraction.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean-”

Loki turned around, catching you as you stumbled with his hands on the dip in your waist, cutting off your quickly rambled apology. Once you were righted his touch lingered, branding you through the thin cotton of your t-shirt. “Apology accepted, although unnecessary. You must be more observant in the future.”

You combed your fingers through your hair to give your hands something to do besides splaying across his chest to see if the muscles barely visible beneath his button-down shirt were truly as smooth as they appeared. “Oh, uh, yeah. I’ll do that. Thanks.”

He released you from his captivating presence, freeing you to dart through the crowd back to Thor who watched over your newly acquired glass of water dutifully.

“Ah, you’re back!” he exclaimed, shooting you a radiant smile that could probably outdo the sun for how much warmth it exuded. “You look unwell. Is everything alright?”

Only after chugging half of your water did you reply, setting the glass down gently on the bar to compensate for how your hands trembled with an intoxicating combination of excitement and nerves. “Yeah. Just ran into Loki, literally, and almost fell on my ass.”

“You are attracted to him.”

You shook your head a little too forcefully to be believable. “Of course not. He’s my client, as are you and the rest of the Avengers.”

“He is attracted to you as well,” he replied, as if you hadn’t spoken at all. His eyes moved through the crowd before settling on a distant point, and you knew it had to be the man currently in question. “I approve of such a union.”

Union? “No, no, no. It isn’t like that. He’s just-” Your phone buzzed insistently in your pocket, drawing your attention. Glaring at the familiar name of your boss lighting up your screen, you waved it at Thor apologetically before shouldering your way through the crowd and out of the door into the night.

“Hello?” You shoved the phone into your ear, scurrying away from the front door to escape the biting cold wind that tore through your clothing. You’d left your coat inside. The alleyway beside the bar provided a bit of shelter from the wind, although it now seemed the journey was pointless was the call had been dropped.

“What is so important at midnight that you have to call?” you hissed, stomping your feet against the cold sinking into your bones as you redialed the number, your chin tucked into your chest and your shoulders hunched.

*

“Whatcha doin’ there, sweet cheeks?”

Your hand fell to your side, thumb hovering over the keyboard as dread filled your veins with a thick sludge that threatened to anchor you to the spot. Lifting your gaze from the dirty asphalt, you caught sight of the man walking confidently toward you, all sinister swagger as he stopped too close for your liking.

“Just calling my boyfriend,” you hedged, backing up until the grit of the stone wall bit into your shoulder blades. You searched behind him frantically for someone, anyone, to see your wide eyes and trembling figure slinking into the shadows. But they were all going about their business without even glancing in your direction, too busy to notice the quiet confrontation happening scant feet to their right.

“Why don’t I keep you company until he shows up?” he asked, an ominous chill to his tone as his hands came up on either side of your shoulders to box you in.

You closed your fist over your phone, trying to remember anything from the self-defense classes Tony had gotten for all the staff, when the weight of his body was suddenly lifted from yours. It was replaced by the gentle pressure of another, and your vision was filled with Loki’s broad shoulders. 

*

His hand reached out behind him, and you slipped your fingers through his without a second thought, the reassuring touch pulling you into him until your front fitted to his back. He settled your hand on his side in slow, measured movements that told nothing of the strength and rage straining at the muscles in his neck and clenching in his jaw. His body practically thrummed against you from withheld fury.

The tension beneath your fingertips matched the threat lacing his words. “She’s mine.”

The man scrambled up from where he’d sprawled on the ground, brushing off his jeans and shooting Loki a hateful glare. “I don’t see your name anywhere.”

You shifted just enough so that you could catch Loki’s profile, the line of his jaw and slope of his nose drawing your attention to his eyes, which briefly flashed a blood red that shot a spike of terror through you. They held a dangerous promise that you didn’t want to see fulfilled.

“She is mine,” he repeated, arms moving out from his sides in a fluid motion. The glint of his daggers caught the light at the edges of your vision. “Leave now if you wish to maintain what little manhood you possess for believing you can accost anyone in such a fashion, let alone what belongs to me.”

The man wisely took the command, cursing under his breath as he stormed away. The breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding burst out of you, and you sank back against the bar’s outer wall, closing your eyes as you focused on calming your racing heart.

“Did he harm you?” The words were soft, quiet and dripping with concern, directed at you from just in front of you.

You opened up your eyes, tilting your head back so that you could clearly see Loki towering protectively over you. His brows pulled together with his care for you, and he stepped to shield your body from the view of those passing by as well as from the frigid wind. When you trembled, either from shock or cold you weren’t sure, he removed his black blazer and draped it over your shoulders. His hands rubbed warmth and comfort over your upper arms.

“No,” you managed to eke out around the dryness in your throat. Swallowing down your fear, you tried again, “I’m okay. It was just some dumbass…”

The skin around his eyes tightened as he peered down at you. “Would you like to gather your composure before returning to your companions?”

You couldn’t imagine the uproar that your current state would cause. Trembling, eyes wide and shoulders hunched, you were quite the opposite from the cool, calm, and collected persona you carefully constructed each day. Gratefully, you nodded, digging your fingers into the borrowed blazer and pulling it tighter around your shoulders. It was warm, scented with a clean, masculine scent that stirred longing deep in your belly.

“Come here,” Loki instructed quietly, holding out his arms at your sides. At your quirked brow, he clarified, “You look positively frozen and I am quite warm.”

When were you going to get such an offer again? Silencing the part of your brain that screamed that you shouldn’t do it, you stepped into his embrace, tucking your forehead into his neck and nuzzling your cheek against his chest. His arms held you firmly to him, cradling the back of your head and dipping beneath his blazer to rest on your waist. His thumb toyed with the sliver of skin he found between your shirt and jeans. Tendrils of pleasure slid out from that tiny tease of a touch, curling your toes and drawing all of the moisture from your mouth to pool hopefully between your legs.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your breath curling between you in a small cloud as you pulled your head back to look up at him. He dropped his chin to do the same. “I’m lucky you happened to be out here. Right place, right time and all that.”

His hand dropped to cup the side of your neck so his thumb could caress the soft skin beneath your ear. “It was no coincidence. I followed you here. I wanted to speak with you, alone.”

Your heart stopped beating. “About?”

His head lowered until his nose nudged along yours, and you felt the tiny puffs of air from his speech against your slightly parted lips. “I believe you know the matter I wished to discuss.”

He straightened up with a frown. It was quickly replaced by his typical look of indifference. You hated that look when compared to the desire that had graced his face only moments before. “But now is no longer an appropriate time. As you do not seem fit to enjoy the remainder of the evening, allow me to escort you home? It would soothe my anxieties to know that you arrived there safely.”

“Of-of course,” you stammered, shocked both by what he basically just admitted and at how quickly he had retreated from it. He pulled away from you fully, leaving emptiness behind that was more chilling than the softly falling snow that dotted his long, black locks. The ensuing ache in your chest was too much to bear. “Loki?”

He stilled, turning around on his heel. “Yes?”

Summoning all of your courage you reached out to him, stilling your fidgeting hands on the expanse of his chest. “You were right.”

“About what, sweetling?” he asked, guarded, curious, but not overly so as he regarded you behind dark lashes.

You threw all caution to the wind. “That I’m yours.”

“Is that so?” A hopeful grin curled on his lips. He walked you back into the safety of the shadows, the length of him holding you against the wall. It made your heart race in anticipation, and you wetted your lips in a quick flick of your tongue that made him growl softly in his throat. “Then I shall have what is mine.”

Your lips caught his in a tender, questioning kiss that differed from the fire you had seen burning in his eyes before yours had fallen closed. He was gentle, achingly so, as if you would break at the slightest bit of pressure or passion from him. But that touch broke the last of your barriers against him, sending them crumbling to the ground where your toes curled inside your shoes. Your fingers pressed into his pecs and you gasped into his mouth at the pure bliss that flowed through you, hot and enticing and demanding.

Your quiet gasp was his undoing, and he licked at your lips before slanting his mouth over yours in a deep and thorough kiss that took every bit of your yearning for him and created more. It was dark and rich and full to the brim with undisguised urgency. His fingers at your waist aided in the grind of your hips together and you clung onto him for fear of your knees weakening at his fervent touch.

You panted for air when he finally broke the kiss to lean his forehead against yours. You would have drowned in his amorous hold had he allowed it. “Loki?”

He hummed his questioning response, the words buzzing through your skin to tease at the tension clenching your stomach tight.

“Take me home.”

~~~

Little Bit o’ Loki taglist: @myownviperroom @grahoundart @darealbellabelleoftheball @boubouinscarlet @iamverity @rt8815 @lots-of-loki 

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[flamehairedwritings]

The Fiancé: Chapter Four

Characters: Steve Rogers x Female Plus-Size Reader

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY

Summary: A lie about your best friend at a Christmas party spirals into world news, but a previously unknown threat leaves you having to now live the lie of Steve Rogers being your fiancé.

Originally based on the prompt ‘Character A’s ex will be at the Christmas Party A is attending. Character B poses as A’s fiancé,’ by @alloftheprompts​.

A/N: The whole series will include swearing, alcohol, threat, violence, apartment sharing, protected sex, and more tags to be added!

The Fiancé Masterlist

All Works Masterlist

Read on AO3

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

Can I Tell You Confidentially, Ain’t You Sweet

MONDAY

“This is a fucking nightmare,” Steve mutters, leaning against the wall and looking out of the window, Sam the other side.

  Staring down at the seemingly growing crowd, his agitation is growing with it, but all he can think about is how you must be feeling.

He’d nearly hurled his phone into the God damn Reflecting Pool when Fury had told him.

“Now, hang on a second, what?”

“This is a great opportunity to find out who these guys are and stop them, Steve.”

He’d scoffed, a hand on his hip as he’d paced. “So we’re putting a civilian’s life in danger, my civilian friend’s life in danger, who not only has absolutely no training in any kind of operation but is also just an innocent human being?”

A sigh had come through the line. “Steve... What these groups are talking about doing is getting worse, and they’re recruiting, not just people to assassinate you but for other operations as well around the world.”

His jaw had moved as he’d stopped, staring into the water. “There has to be another way.”

“There isn’t.”

“Nick, I can’t see—”

“This isn’t a request, Steve, it’s an order.”

So here he is, a soldier with his orders, putting his friend’s life on the line for his own... And even though they’d appeared to give you one, you hadn’t really had much of a choice.

He hates it. But... as Nat had said, you couldn’t be safer. Part of him was actually relieved that you would now officially be under the watchful eye of SHIELD and the best agents he’d ever known, especially after the letter he’d received.

Sam shifts, mirroring Steve with his folded arms. “Yeah, you’re not wrong,” he murmurs. Shaking his head, he looks to him. “Only for six days, man. Just keep tellin’ yourself that, six days.”

Steve releases a breath, a muscle in his jaw moving. “Yeah, ‘cause nothing goes to shit in six days, huh.”

—

“I’m coming over the moment work finishes, if I can get out of the damn building.”

You lick your lips, balancing your phone between your shoulder and your ear as you carry a box to your bedroom door.

“Uh, actually, Bridge’, I’m packing right now.”

“You’re packing? Oh my God, please don’t tell me you’re eloping, I want to be there!”

“No, no, we’re just moving in together.”

Just.

“Oh my God, your place or his?”

“Uh... a new place.” You lift a suitcase onto your bed, unzipping it.

“Where?”

“I’m not sure, actually, Steve’s chosen a place.” You move to your wardrobe, stare at it for a second and then grab an armful of clothes and turn, dropping them onto your bed.

“Ugh, it’s like he’s gifting you an apartment, that’s amazing. Oh, Y/N...” You pause your half-hearted folding of a sweater at Bridget’s sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Licking your lips, you place the sweater in the suitcase. “Well, we’re... we’re such good friends that we wanted to keep it a secret, just in case it didn’t work out so it wouldn’t be weird with our friends or for anyone. And, you know... the whole world seems to think it can be involved, as we’d, uhm, as we’d expected.“

You hear them hiss. “I know, I can’t believe what some people are writing, it’s such trash.”

“Yeah.” You haven’t dared to check the notifications that have been making your phone buzz, even as you’ve been speaking to Bridget, and their angry tone doesn’t exactly fill you with confidence.

As you fold another sweater, you hear the clicking of a computer mouse on the other end, and then Bridget gasping. “Oh my God, is the ring really from Tiffany’s?!”

“Uh...” You glance at the ring on your fourth left finger. The ring Nat had removed from a box she’d taken out of her coat pocket and unceremoniously handed to you, telling you to put it on. You have absolutely no idea where it’s from. Does SHIELD just have a storeroom full of these? Does Nat? “... I don’t actually know, Bridge’, but, you know me, I’m not really bothered by that kind of stuff.”

“Oh, I know. Is it new? Old? What does it look like?”

You continue to stare at the alien object. “It’s... silver. And new. Got a diamond in the middle, three smaller ones either side, going down the band.”

“Ugh, simple and elegant, love it. Can you send me a picture?”

“As soon as I’m done packing.”

“Good. And let me know where you’re moving to, please! I want to drop by unexpectedly every day.”

“Oh, I will as soon as I know.” Having finished folding, you zip the suitcase up and place a hand on it, exhaling a short breath.

There’s a small pause.

“Are you okay, babe?”

“Yeah, I just...” You rub your forehead before making yourself smile even though they can’t see it. “... This is just all happening so fast and it’s a lot, truthfully.”

“Oh, I bet. You know we all love and support you here, right?”

That makes your smile soften. “Yeah, I know.”

“And you’re still okay for drinks with me and Doll’ on Wednesday, right?”

“Oh, yeah, absolutely.” 

I fucking hope it’s okay, I know I’m gonna need those drinks and giggles. 

“Good, we’ll blow off some steam then.”

Hauling the suitcase off the bed, your eyes dart to the door as someone knocks on it.

“Come in,” you say, raising your voice slightly.

It opens and Sam appears, smiling. “Hey, you ready?”

“Just about.” You pass the suitcase to him, him lifting it like it weighs nothing, and the expected sharp inhale comes from the other end of the line.

“Is Sam there?” Bridget whispers.

Your lips twitching, you nod as you say, “Yeah, Bridge’, Sam’s here.”

The man of the moment pauses, looking back at you as his lips lift higher. “You’re talkin’ to Bridge’?”

“Yep.” You have to control your smile.

“How, uh, how’re they doin’?”

“How are you doing, Bridge’?” you ask, raising your eyebrows slightly as you hear them clear their throat.

“Uh, tell him I’m fine, thank you... And that I would like to have a secret engagement with him,” they finish in the quietest of whispers that has your lips twitching again.

“They say they’re fine, thank you.”

Sam nods, pauses for another moment before he moves to turn again.

“Oh, hey,” you say, a wholesomely sneaky idea coming to you. “Sam, why don’t I give you Bridget’s number, then you two can plan the respective bachelor and bachelorette parties together?”

Bridget’s almost squeal of an inhale gives you their answer as Sam looks at you and grins. “Yeah, sure. I’d like that.”

“Oke doke, I’ll give it to you in a bit.” You smirk to yourself as Sam heads into the hallway.

There’s half a second before Bridget launches into a speech. “Oh my God, I love you so damn much, I’m gonna throw you the best damn party ever, I’ll get you whatever you want, whoever you want...”

Okay, maybe I can joke about with this situation now... Just with myself.

—

It takes you twenty-five minutes to pack. You haven’t packed much, only what you need for the week, and any food that will be going out of date soon, and it isn’t like you are actually moving out, so... the essentials it had been. Like you’re going on holiday. A bizarre, unwanted holiday. Nat has assured you there’s towels, cutlery, glasses, bedsheets, etc, all at the new place, you just need your clothes, toiletries, laptop, phone and anything else you might want to entertain yourself, her words. The last part had made you think of the box you keep under your bed, an array of toys you’ve accrued over the years inside.

... I mean... This is going to be a very stressful week... I’ll take just one... The silent, water-proof one.

That had disappeared into your backpack after you’d, quickly as you could, fumbled with the box and pulled it out and your toy cleaning wipes, sweating slightly as you’d heard the three of them moving around outside your door.

I will not humiliate myself further this week, no thank you.

Well, Nat would probably just nod in approval, Sam would probably actually do the same or just not even react, but Steve... There’s some things that you didn’t talk about, no matter how close you are.

Pulling your coat back on and the bag, hoping Nat doesn’t want to rifle through it this time, you step out of your bedroom, closing the door.

“So, what now?” you ask as they turn to you, Steve carrying your suitcase, Sam holding two boxes in his arms, Nat typing on her phone.

She slips it into her pocket and clasps her hands together as she speaks, “We leave, quickly and safely as possible. Sam and Steve are gonna take your things and Steve’s and head down to the parking garage, Sam’s got his car there, and they’ll come a little behind us. You and I are gonna head out the front, draw some of the crowd away and head to the new place.”

“Right.” You can’t work out if this is nice or not, having someone else take over and make all the decisions. At any other time, you’d be railing and demanding an input, but with this situation...

Carry on, Nat.

“All right, let’s go,” she says, as if having heard your thoughts, and moves to the door, peering through the peep-hole, checking the hallway, before she opens it.

“See you later, Y/N,” Sam says with that lovely warm smile of his as he heads out and, actually, between remembering the people who are now going to be looking after you and having decisions taken away from you, you’re starting to relax a little.

You meet Steve’s gaze and smile as he raises his eyebrows a little. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at home, then,” he says, a smile pulling at his own lips.

“Yeah, I’ll put the kettle on,” you reply, making his smile widen a little more.

“I look forward to it.”

You watch him as he heads out and into his own apartment, Sam having already opened the door. As he closes it, Nat steps out into the hallway, gesturing for you to follow, and you obey. Pulling your door shut, you lock it and turn to her, your keys disappearing into your coat pocket and you zip it closed.

As you both head down the hall, she pulls her phone out and starts typing again, her thumbs moving rapidly. You press the button to herald the elevator, and grip the straps of your bag, staring at the closed outer doors.

You try not to think about anything in particular, but you’re definitely feeling a lot more mellow. 

Just six days, I can do that. Six days is fine, it’ll fly by. I just won’t watch the news, stay off of social media as much as possible and keep my head down with whatever Nat plans for us to do. Steve’ll want that, too, it’ll be fine.

Cheered by your new resolve, you breathe a little easier as the elevator arrives and you step in after the doors open. Nat presses the button for the ground floor as she steps in and glances at the ceiling corners, probably looking for bugging devices.

Pushing her phone into her pocket as the elevator begins to descend, she leans against the back wall, folding her arms and looking at you.

“We’ve got a couple of agents in the crowd and in the building along the street, so don’t worry, we’ve got eyes from every angle.”

“Okay,” you answer, having to stop yourself from saying ‘thank you’ because you know she’ll just smirk and arch an eyebrow.

She pulls the sunglasses down from her head to settle over her eyes once more and you raise your eyebrows.

“... Can I ask, what’s with the glasses?”

“They scan people’s faces, log and check them on a database we have.”

“Oh.”

Oh. Facial recognition.

That unsettles you a bit.

Licking your lips, you look back at the doors. “Where is the new place?” you ask after a moment.

“Other side of town.”

She doesn’t elaborate. You don’t know why you even bothered asking.

The elevator slows and she straightens, glancing at you. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, clinging onto the calmness you’d felt only minutes before.

The doors open and you both step out. Aaron is stood close to the door, his hands on his belt, frowning, and there’s another guard with him, one you recognise as usually taking the night shift. Aaron must have called him... and as your eyes dart to the windows, you can see why. The faint, jolly music is still playing and it’s a bizarre juxtaposition to the muffled shouting and screaming from outside because the crowed have spotted you now. People are trying to peer through the floor-to-ceiling windows, craning their necks and shoving each other out of the way to get a better look at you, filming on their phones and trying to take pictures.

Aaron turns to you and gives you a small smile as you approach, Nat a step ahead.

“How’re we looking?” she asks him and from his blinking and surprised expression, you guess he isn’t one of the eyes she was talking about.

“Uh, well, no-one’s tried to get in, yet. Someone seemed as if they were about to follow someone who lives here in, but other’s started yelling at them that we could then call the police, so, seems like they’re seasoned.” He glances at you, giving you another smile.

You return it because, God, he’s probably not trained for this, and he’s such a nice guy.

“All right, well, they should go soon once they realise Steve and Y/N are moving.”

“You’re leaving?” He looks rather crestfallen as he meets your gaze again, and you don’t quite know what to do, but it’s left to you to say something because Nat’s moved off to the other guard.

Lying to him almost feels as bad as having to lie to your friends. He’s been working here for quite a few months now and he’s always ready to have a goofy laugh with you, especially when you come back from after-work drinks. It was always nice, too, to come back from a shitty day and see him, smiling and asking you how your day was.

“Well, tomorrow’s a new day,” he’d always say back, to the point where you both just ended up saying it together.

Do you just say bye? Do you give him your number, or promise to add him on Instagram or Facebook?

Yes, please.

Yeah, all right, you have a tiny bit of a crush on him, but it’s fine and you won’t ever act on it, so it’s fine.

“Yeah, sorry,” you say to him, offering a slightly sheepish smile.

Why am I apologising.

He smiles quickly, a beam that you’d come to enjoy seeing. “Well, I wish you luck with your new life, you two always seemed happy together, I don’t know why I didn’t figure it out.” He laughs and you make yourself join in.

Oh, it’s because it’s not truuueee...

“Thank you, Aaron, I appreciate that.” You pause for a second before continuing as you don’t know what else to say, “I’ll see you around.”

He nods. “Yeah, we follow each other on Instagram, so...”

“Do we?” Oh God, that’s embarrassing, as is the tone of surprise you hadn’t quite managed to stop. It’s like you’ve forgotten about him or don’t care, oh my God...

“Yeah, we...” He pauses to let out a chuckle. “You just took my phone that one time, when you came back from a friend’s birthday party, and followed yourself on my account, then promised you’d follow me which you did, so...”

Dolly’s birthday party. Tequila shots.

“Oh, right, yes, sorry, I remember.” Your face feels too warm. “Well, I’ll make sure to say hello.”

“I’d like that.” He smiles and takes a breath before clearing his throat “Goodbye, then, good luck with everything.”

“Thank you,” you answer, but he’s already turning and moving back towards the other guard, Nat giving him a brief smile as they pass each other and she returns to you.

Arching an eyebrow at you, a smirk hints at the corners of her mouth.

“Already initiating an affair?” she murmurs as she places a hand above your backpack, gently guiding you towards the door.

“Shut up,” you mutter, very much aware of how warm your face still is.

Her mood shifts the moment you’re in front of the door, the other guard gripping the handle, ready to open it.

“Okay, just keep moving towards the car, all right, don’t worry if you feel me pushing you, just keep your feet moving, and look straight ahead.”

“Okay,” you whisper, and from the corner of your eye you see her nod.

The guard opens the door and steps out, pushing people back, and then you’re out and through the door.

The moment you feel the cold air touch your skin, it’s pandemonium. People scream, cameras flash, and questions are yelled at you, so many you can’t even make them out properly. You keep your feet moving but your eyes are darting all over, trying to take it all in, there’s so many people. Your anxiety comes flooding back as the guard and Aaron try their best to keep people back and Nat keeps pushing you forward, silent. You just can’t believe they’re all here, in the freezing cold, just to see you.

Well, not just you.

“He’s not here! He’s not with her!” you hear a man shout next to you, making you flinch.

Suddenly, your hands are on Nat’s Corvette and you’re fumbling for the handle. Finding it and tugging it open, Aaron has to really push against a group beside you to allow you space to open it and so you can get in. With your bag still on your back, you slide into the seat and call a “Thank you!” to Aaron. He doesn’t get a chance to turn and acknowledge it as Nat closes the door and the group surges slightly, trying to press against the car. Keeping your eyes down, you lean forward to slide your backpack off and drop it between your feet.

Your hands shake slightly as you buckle your seatbelt, so you clasp them together in your lap once you’re done. It takes Nat a few more moments than last time to get round to her side, but then she’s there, swiftly getting in. Slamming the door shut, she secures her seatbelt and turns the engine on, the sound of it, luckily, making people step back.

Within moments, she’s pulling you both away and down the street. Staring through the wing mirror on your side, you’re grateful for the first time for her speed, knowing by the time the group scatters and gets into their cars or news vans that you’ll be blocks away.

Closing your eyes, you try and cheer yourself.

The hard part’s over. That’s it. You did it.

—

The hard part is definitely over.

This is the fanciest fucking place I’ve ever seen in my life.

You don’t think your mouth’s closed once from the moment you stepped into the building let alone your new penthouse.

It’s huge. All open-plan and white or stripped wood furniture, lush, thick, beige carpeting throughout, except in the kitchen where it’s polished stone, and the bathrooms where it’s white tile with thin flashes of gold. The dining room is decorated to a show-room standard, with a long, glass table and white cushioned chairs, cutlery set out waiting to be used. The living room, with its two ridiculously comfy beige couches, darker than the carpet, with terracotta blankets draped over them, a huge TV, brick fireplace, and intricately carved coffee table, meets the floor-to-ceiling windows and a glass door that opens out onto a balcony and a view of the city. A swinging chair and four, regular, but as equally comfy-looking, chairs are on it with a stone table, and to the right there’s a pool and more couches and a firepit. To the right of the living room area, behind a door, is a gym room, complete with, what you assume is state-of-the-art, equipment. The kitchen is to die for with its black marble counters and island, accompanied by stools to sit at, and the huge silver fridge and the white beech-wood cabinets and the bedrooms...

There’s two, one’s going to be yours, the other’s Steve’s. You very much agreed with Nat when she said, as you were the first here, that you get first pick but, truthfully, you’d have been over the moon with either of them. The one you have chosen, though, is the first one you come to after walking up the stairs. The king-sized bed is the most comfortable thing you’ve ever lain on, and the grey and white striped duvet and sheets are so soft. The wardrobe is a walk-in, you have your own en-suite, featuring a clawfoot bath, a huge shower and an ornate sink, and the windows in the bedroom are also floor-to-ceiling, the view gorgeous.

Maybe this will feel like a holiday, maybe this won’t be so bad after all, oh my God, even the toilet paper is the softest thing I’ve ever felt, I never want to leave...

As you finally pull yourself out of the room, you lean against the landing railing, gazing down at the open-plan floor below. It looks even more gorgeous from up here, perfect, coordinated, a dream.

Nat stands by the balcony door, talking to someone on her phone, and as you practically float down the stairs, she brings it to an end and hangs up, pushing it into her jeans pocket as a smile begins to form.

“So, everything is satisfactory for you, ma’am?”

“Oh, Nat, this is beyond anything I could have ever imagined.” Crossing the room, you sit on one of the couches, leaning back and looking at her. “How did you find this place?”

She folds her arms, leaning against the window. “We keep a few places on hold, just in case.”

Your head tilts forward, your eyes widening. “This place is a safe-house?!”

Her lips twitch. “Not anymore. Clint’ll be pissed.”

Before you can respond, the front door opens and you both turn, watching Steve and Sam enter. Sam lets out a whistle as he walks down the short hallway, his eyes wide. “Oh my God, can I move in?”

Grinning because this feels good, this feels nice to find it exciting rather than terrifying, you raise your eyebrows. “Hey, I wouldn’t mind, there’s probably room for ten people here.”

“Yeah, Sam snores, so I don’t think so,” Steve quips as he passes the other man, setting the three suitcases, one of them yours, he’d been carrying down by the kitchen archway. He seems just as impressed, though, if a bit more quietly so, his eyes roaming the interior. They arrive at you.

“You happy with it?” he asks, and it makes your chest ache with how sincerely he says it.

“Are you kidding me?” You maintain your grin, wanting to keep the tone light. “I can probably sleep in the wardrobe I have up there and there’s a pool outside.”

“It’s winter, Y/N,” Sam says, but he’s craning his neck to peer outside as he puts your two boxes on the kitchen island.

“It’s heated,” Nat says casually, making you and Sam gasp quietly.

I’m never leaving.

“Right,” Nat continues, moving away from the window as Sam takes her place, her arms still folded. “There’s food in the fridge and cupboards, plenty of towels in the downstairs bathroom cupboards, there’s a washing machine and tumble dryer in there, too, and I’m gonna advise you to not order take-out this week for safety purposes.”

If that’s the sacrifice I have to make to live here then fine.

“Steve, come with me, I’ll show you how the machines work, Sam you take Y/N’s things upstairs and help her unpack.”

“I know how a washing machine works, Nat,” Steve sighs even as he follows after her.

“Oh, not this one, trust me.”

Your gaze darting to meet Sam’s, you both grin.

“Please show me this wardrobe, I’m dyin’ to see it.”

Rising off the couch, you gesture towards the stairs with a flourish of your arm. “This way, then, please, sir.”

Striding across the floor, he grabs your suitcase in one hand and manages to carry both boxes in his other arm before turning to you. “Take me there, ma’am.”

You feel like a giddy child as you both head up the stairs, nearly running.

Nat shakes her head as they listen to you both and she meets Steve’s gaze, her lips twitching. He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Even though she knows you nor Sam will be able to hear her in the bathroom she and Steve are stood in, she still softens her voice. “You okay, old man?”

A corner of his mouth lifts a little higher than the other. “Yeah. It’s just gonna take some getting used to.”

“I know,” she murmurs, leaning against the washing machine, instructions forgotten, and she knows not needed. “I know this isn’t exactly how we planned on locating these guys but we couldn’t let this opportunity go—”

“I know, I know,” he sighs, a note of exasperation to it. “Fury said the same thing.”

She looks at him, the tightness in his jaw, despite how relaxed he appears. “She’s going to be safe,” she says gently after a few moments. “I know I don’t have to remind you, but we’re doing this for her, too.”

That makes him stiffen slightly, but she knows he needs an objective for this, something to fight for, something personal, his own life not being enough. He nods after a short pause, then his eyes meet hers and he gives an easy smile.

“You gonna show me how to use this thing or what, huh?”

—

You wish Nat and Sam could’ve stayed longer. Could’ve helped you both settle in, maybe even shown you how to operate the TV, even though you knew... Could’ve stayed longer because they helped to keep the excitement up.

The moment the door closed after they’d said their goodbyes, barely an hour after they’d arrive, said adamantly to call if either of you needed anything, and that the building was already being watched by agents, silence descended.

You’d both been stood by the front door to bid farewell, Steve holding it open, and you’d watched them cross the small circular foyer to the elevator that only someone with a passkey could get into and come to this floor with. You, Steve, Nat and Sam were the only people to have one. As the latter two disappeared, the elevator doors closing and Steve closed your own door and the silence came, you just looked at each other. You couldn’t think what to say, not quite in the mood to crack a joke, some of your energy having left you. Steve had appeared to feel the same way, his hands sliding into his pockets as he gave a light smile.

As the silence went on a second too long, you had returned his smile, though wider, and made some excuse about having promised to video call Dolly and Bridget to show them the place. He’d just nodded and joked about keeping out of the way.

You hate this. Hate that there’s some kind of... disconnect between you two now, though, you hope, you’re the only one to feel it. You don’t want to become awkward strangers to each other, you don’t want to feel uncomfortable and embarrassed every time you want to speak to him because how the hell are you going to get through the week? Or beyond it? You know it’s all your own doing, your own insecurities and embarrassment holding you back, but you just need... a few minutes to adjust.

The video call with your friends doesn’t exactly help. They’d gasped and squealed at everything you’d showed them, so delighted and excited for their friend, and you don’t know where you’d found the energy from to be ‘on’, to be at their level, and the level of an excited, engaged woman. You had quickly excused yourself after half an hour, though, saying you and Steve still have some things to unpack. 

You hate lying to them. You hate it so much.

You'd felt tears pricking at your eyes as you’d waved goodbye, catching their blown kisses like you usually would but unable to return them with quite the same goofiness. If they’d have asked, you just would have said you were tired, which wouldn’t have been a complete lie.

When you end the call and drop your phone onto your bed, you close your eyes, wiping at them after a moment to eradicate any stray tears.

Six days. Just six days. And it’s to help save your best friend’s life.

Changing into a sweater and pyjamas trousers, you leave your room, your phone held in one hand. A quick glance around as you descend the stairs shows no sign of Steve, but as you reach the bottom you hear sounds of a machine in the gym room despite the door being closed. You leave him to it, knowing he’s probably got his own adjustments to reckon with.

Despite his status, he’s still a private guy, and he probably hates the limelight now being shone on him once more.

There comes the guilt again, gnawing at you from the inside, and swiftly comes the challenge that without your lie you wouldn’t be able to help SHIELD find whoever wants to hurt him... Then comes the sadness, anger and helplessness.

You sit on the nearest couch, grabbing the remote, and turn the TV on. The channel you’re on is showing an advert, so you skip through until you land on a talk show. You pause for a moment, before lowering the remote.

“... also have a statement from June & Mayflower Publishing,” a woman is saying, text appearing on the screen beside her.

You don’t bother to listen properly or read it. Nat had called Yvette while you’d been packing, and she and her assistant Alice had drafted a statement saying the whole company was delighted. She’d sent it to you while Nat had been driving you here to read beforehand but you’d just replied to the email saying it was fine, you trusted her.

You tune back in when a man speaks, and a weird feeling rises in your chest as a picture of you and Steve, from probably only a few months after you’d moved to D.C, walking in a park and smiling, pops up on the screen.

“Y/N has actually been sighted with Steve before, they’ve actually been neighbours for three years, isn’t that romantic?”

“Awh, so cute!” the woman says, beaming.

“I know, right? People were asking if something was going on, we were desperate to know if our boy in red, white and blue had finally found the one again, but after months of quiet speculation we all knew they were just good friends.”

You wouldn’t have exactly called it quiet. You can still remember the shock and surprise of leaving your building and someone coming up to you to ask questions about you and Steve every other day, but it had soon faded, and had been nothing compared to what you’d experienced today.

“Now what we’re all desperate to know is is it going to be a winter wedding?”

“Yeeesss,” the woman says, clapping her hands together. “Now, some of us may think that that’s unusual but they are becoming more popular, and if the wedding of the century is going to a winter one, then, well, cancel Christmas, wedding planners, you’ve got work to do!”

As they laugh, you cringe, playing with the sleeve of your sweater. Unused to wearing a ring the size of the engagement one, it keeps catching on it.

“Now, we have Chrisse Christianson on the line from Chrisse’s Boutique, the store that specialises in all things weddings right here in New York, hi, Chrisse, have you been contacted by the couple?”

“Hi, guys! No, I haven’t been contacted yet,” she laughs, the trilling sound echoing across the studio, “but as Steve is from here we’re hoping they decide to shop local, and—”

As the gym room door opens, with lightening speed you change the channel, landing on a documentary of some kind.

Clearing your throat and lifting your head, you smile at him as he steps out... and you can’t stop your gaze from travelling him. His shirt is sticking to his skin with sweat, beads of it trailing down his neck and temple. His muscles somehow look bigger, straining under the sleeves of the shirt. You swiftly lift your eyes as you catch yourself, and his warm smile is what sets off the fluttering in your chest.

“Hey,” he greets, closing the door.

“Hi,” you manage to say nonchalantly.

Glancing at the TV screen, he then looks back to you. “Dolly and Bridge’ okay?”

“Yeah.” You fold your arms as you smile a touch wryly. “Can’t tell if they’re more excited about the engagement or the apartment.”

He chuckles, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. You have to stop yourself from watching his muscles flex. “Well, they’re only human.”

Your smile softens as you exhale a laugh. As he crosses behind the couch to the stairs, your eyes return to the TV, but you hear him pause on the bottom step.

“Hey, after I shower I’ll cook us something to eat, okay?”

You look to him, your smile returning as you nod. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

He nods and ascends the stairs, and you make yourself look back at the screen.

Well, there you go, you’ve spoken and it wasn’t awkward. Hey, you’d even laughed. That was good, fine. It would just be a little weird adjusting, that was all.

You focus on the documentary, which you realise is about birds. You focus very hard on it.

—

Cutlery quietly clinks against plates, the only sound that fills the air of the penthouse. Usually when you both cook together one of you will put music on, more often than not the playlist you’ve curated together over the years that holds a charmingly eclectic mix of music ranging from the 20s to now. Today, though, neither of you felt much like listening to any.

You’d just stayed on the couch, anyway, when he’d reappeared, showered and dressed, and cooked, almost frozen to the spot and staring at the TV screen. It was nice to drift away for half an hour or so, be distracted by something. He’d gently called you when the pasta dish was ready, and you’d both decided to sit at the island, something too unspokenly formal about the dining table.

And so silence has fallen.

Steve watches you as you both eat quietly, your head slightly lowered. The only thing you’d said was how good it tasted after your first mouthful, and he’d thanked you. You haven’t said another word since. He himself is slightly slumped in his chair, his shoulders down, his arm resting on his thigh, back a little curved. You’d laughed the first time you’d seen him with such an unsuperhero-y posture, fully relaxed. He’d just smiled, and you’d realised over the years that that was how Steve Rogers sat and how he always had, even pre-serum, almost like his body was curving in, protecting himself.

Your fork lowering onto your plate pulls him from his thoughts, his eyes focusing back on you. Running a hand down his mouth, he clears his throat.

“How are you doing?” he asks quietly.

You just look at your plate for a moment as you push it away, your hands clasping together in its place. You’d known this was coming the whole time you’d been eating, before even. Taking a breath and exhaling it, you swallow before you finally look at him. His features don’t change, just watching you.

“Steve, I’m so sorry, about all of this,” you say, your voice just as quiet as his. “For what I said at the party, all of this, I just...”

“Why?” he asks when you don’t carry on.

You raise your eyebrows slightly, a faint expression of surprise. “I used you. I used you to get back at someone who doesn’t matter, and I hate that I did that, I hate it. It’s what everyone else does to you, they use your status and the symbol of Captain America, they take advantage of it, I’ve seen people do it, they pretend they’re your friend just to get something, and I never wanted to be the person that did that, I’m so sorry, I’m your friend because I like you, not because I want to look important or have some kind of status, but that’s what I wanted in that moment, I wanted him to look at me and think I was important and he’d missed out, and I could do better than him and now I’ve just thrown that all away, I’m a hypocrite and I’m so sorry.” You stop abruptly and inhale a slightly broken breath.

He didn’t interrupt you as you got it all out to him, finally, his expression didn’t change, he just sat quietly and listened, knowing the thoughts have probably been rolling around in your mind incessantly. His features soften now, though.

“Y/N...” he says after a moment, “... It was a bit of fun.” You just look at him, your lips slightly parted. “Sure, it’s spiralled, and here we are, having to pick out cake decorations...” He trails off with a smile as you exhale a laugh, your own smile finally breaking out across your features. When he continues, he’s still smiling but his tone is sincere. “I know the kind of person you are, Y/N. I know when I’m being used, despite how old I am I’ve still got all my marbles, but it was just some fun, and I was glad to do it for you, he seemed like an ass.”

Your smile has lingered, your shoulders relaxing in relief as you inhale a breath. “Yeah, he was.” Shaking your head, you look at him. “God, you’re just...”

He arches an eyebrow, his head tilting. “What?”

Your smile widens. “Incredible, Steve Rogers.”

He chuckles, his hand falling into his lap. “You are, too. And Y/N, you are important—”

“I know, I know,” you say quickly, feeling your face warm. You can’t bear to hear one of his pep-talks now, it’ll just make you feel like even more of a child for having done what you did.

Mercifully, he takes the hint and leans his elbow on the island, his fingers brushing over his lips. There’s a small pause before he speaks again.

“Look, I’m not the best at all this undercover stuff, I’m quite bad at it actually, I’m surprised Nat hasn’t entertained you with the tales, but I think having to do it with you will make it a little easier.”

Your gaze lifts to him, the heat lingering on your skin, and you smile softly. “Well, thank you. You, too.”

You want to cry. You have some kind of emotional release from the day, but you know that would just make him feel guilty.

You attempt to lighten the tone again, raising your eyes to take in the penthouse once more. “So why don’t you live in a place like this?”

“What do you mean?”

You shrug. “Your apartment’s the same size as mine, but you probably have ten times what I do. Don’t give me that look,” you swiftly continue, the corners of your mouth lifting, “They published it, and I couldn’t help but accidentally read it, and I’m just saying, why do we split the bill.”

He arches an eyebrow, a smile threatening. “Because you insist.”

“Well...” You scoff, raising your eyebrows. “I’m gonna stop insisting.”

He chuckles and shrugs, his hands clasping in his lap. “I like my place. And where could I find a better neighbour, huh?”

“Oh, well...” You shrug a shoulder as you smile faux-demurely, shaking your head. “You couldn’t, so, good.”

“I know, I know, God’s gift,” he concedes with raised eyebrows, his smile betraying his tone. Moving off the stool, he takes your plate and his and heads to the sink, placing them in and turning the tap on, letting the water run over them.

Placing your arms on the island, you exhale a long breath. “So... How are you gonna spend your first afternoon here in paradise?”

The corners of his mouth lift as he turns the tap off and leans against the counter beside him, his hands in his pockets. “Think I’m gonna give Buck a call, and Nat, see what’s goin’ on. You?”

You wrinkle your nose, shrugging. “I don’t think I’m technically not working just yet, so, I’ve got a few things I want to take care of and send to Yvette, then...” You shrug again. “... The shower in my room looks great, actually, so I might spend about three hours in there.”

“Yeah, mine was life-changing, so...” He smiles as you laugh, sliding off of your stool.

“Oh, good, maybe I’ll spend four hours in there, then.” Tugging your sleeves over your hands, you grab your phone and return his smile. “All right, I guess I’ll see you in a bit, then.”

“Yeah. Don’t work too hard.”

“Oh, I’ll try.”

And there it is again, that weird, unfamiliar awkwardness returns, not too overt, but definitely there. As you climb the stairs, you once again hope he doesn’t feel it, but, you are relieved that you got out what had been rattling around in your mind since the morning. Relieved that he was so understanding, too, but when is he not? That’s what you lo— admire about him so much. Empathy is seemingly a rare trait these days so it’s nice to be reminded that people do have it. And, oh, you’d had a normal conversation. You almost laugh at the boost it’s given you.

You push him, the day, everything out of your mind, though, as you enter your room and close the door. Taking your laptop from your backpack, you turn it on and sit back against the luxurious cushions on the bed, closing your eyes for a few moments to get your brain into work-mode. 

This will distract you for a good few hours, be something that you can handle and focus on.

Opening your eyes, you sign into your laptop and straighten your back.

Oke doke... Hello, my actual life.

—

You manage to waste more than a good few hours sending emails, receiving them, taking calls, approving events and posts, planning out the next few months of what you want to get done and make public. You ignore the emails that have ‘CONGRATULATIONS!!!’ in the subject line, hoping people will just think you’re too busy being desperately in love to reply to all the well-wishers. It’s almost bliss, to lose yourself in your work and think of nothing else, even though you do have to block a few numbers from tabloids every half an hour or so.

As darkness falls, though, and everyone else ends their working day, you force yourself to send your last email, to Yvette, explaining, as Nat had asked you to, that you would be taking the week off. Yvette already knows, of course, but Nat had requested you to do it just in case someone hacked into your emails, or the company’s. Shutting your laptop down and closing it, your gaze drifts to the window. The sky is an inky black, and the bedside lamp you’d turned on an hour or so before illuminates the room in a warm, gentle glow.

Moving off the bed with a slight, stiff, wince, you pull the curtains closed, and take a moment to let your thumbs caress the silver, velvety material.

Ugh, just perfect.

Blowing out a breath, you turn back to the room.

What now? 

...

Time for that shower, I think.

You take another moment to once more take in the beauty of your bathroom, before you open the shower door and stare at the buttons because it has buttons and not knobs and taps like you’re used to. Thankfully, they’re easy to understand and in seconds a warm stream of beautifully pressured water is pouring down onto the floor.

You dart back into the bedroom to grab your phone, wanting to play some music, and as you wander back into the bathroom, you unlock it. As you search for your desired playlist, an Instagram notification suddenly appears at the top of the screen. It’s a message—

You pause.

A message from Aaron.

You feel your face heating up, and it’s not from the steam of the shower, as you tap on it to open the app and read it quickly.

Hey, I hope you’re settling in okay, and your new door guys aren’t as funny as I am.

You smile, quite touched by the sweetness of it. Your thumbs start to move before you can stop them.

Hi, thank you so much! It’s all fine here, and no, they certainly aren’t, so you can rest easy.

Feeling faintly like a giddy teenager as you quickly close the app in case he comes online and sees you’re active, (and oh my God, did I reply too quickly?), you start your playlist and place your phone by the sink. After undressing, leaving your clothes in a pile on the floor, and spending a moment considering if you should remove the ring in case you damage it but deciding to leave it on, you step into the shower and are unable to stop a soft groan as the warm water washes over you.

This is so much better than the water in our building... then again, it’s not hard to beat it.

You take your time to shower, washing every inch of your skin with the new bottle of body-wash that was already in there and smells divine. When you finally turn the water off and step out, you pull a cream, fluffy towel from the nearby rack and it rivals the bed in softness. After patting yourself dry and moisturising with the new pot of cream that was in one of the cabinets under the sink, and comes from that fancy shop you and Dolly go into every month for samples, you wrap the towel around yourself, take your phone and head into the bedroom.

Checking for notification as you sit on the bed, you find Aaron has answered.

Oh, good, to both of those. My reputation remains intact.

Your teeth graze over your lower lip as you reply.

Absolutely, I’ll let them know here that they seriously need to do better.

Being on the app reminds you to make your account private as, oh, boy, strangers commenting on every single photo you’ve ever posted is overwhelming. You’re about to exit out of the app when you decide to have a look at Aaron’s profile. It’s a standard grid, photos of him at bars or parties, by the looks of it, selfies, photos of him at the gym...

Wow... His uniform kinda hides those muscles.

Stop it.

Locking your phone, you lie back on the bed, not quite ready to change just yet.

God, that was a good shower.

Wonder if Steve’s shower was really good. If the water pressure was good like mine, not if he had a nice time, if he just really enjoyed it as much as he said he did.

You stare at the ceiling, swallowing lightly.

Your eyes drift to your backpack on the floor.

Where your toy calls quietly to you.

... This would help the unwinding to continue.

Moving off the bed, you reach inside your backpack and grab the toy, pulling it out of its drawstring bag.

It’s one of your favourites; smooth, rose-gold silicone, medium length, a ribbed shaft, silent, different speeds and patterns, water-proof, you can use it anywhere, anytime, and do whatever you want with it.

Lying back again, you shift into a more comfortable position and close your eyes, your thumb finding the familiar button to set the vibration at the first, low speed.

You think about what you usually do when you can’t be bothered to look a stimulus up online; a faceless mouth on your neck, on your breasts, licking and sucking at your nipples, on your thighs, hands pulling them apart, gliding down to your wet pussy lips, caressing and stroking.

A rush of breath escapes you as you glide the head of the vibrator up and down your cunt, your hips jerking slightly at the initial contact. You’re wet already, and you hum gently as you stop at your clit, leaving the vibrator there.

Your free hand tugs the towel open so you can reach your breasts, your fingers going between your nipples and, tugging and pinching them along with your fantasy. You increase the speed by one as you start to lose yourself in the pleasure thrumming throughout your body.

... And you can’t stop yourself from not thinking about it anymore.

You picture Steve in the shower. 

You’ve thought of him a couple of times before while masturbating, accidentally. Like when you've been drunk he’s just slipped into your mind... or just at the last second when you're coming his face has appeared in your mind and his name from your lips. You just can’t help it.

The faceless mouth and hands become his as you rock your hips, quiet moans sounding from your throat. He whispers your name into your ear, telling you how good you feel, how wet you are, what a good girl you are, how he can’t wait to sink his cock into yo—

Two gentle knocks sound on your bedroom door.

“Y/N?”

Your eyes snapping open, you stare at the door.

Steve.

Oh my God, it’s like I summoned him.

“... Yeah?” You try to sound as nonchalant as possible, your voice just a touch higher than normal.

“Can I come in?”

“Uh...” You’re off the bed in seconds, the towel falling to the floor as you thrust the vibrator behind one of the many pillows and clear your throat, “... Hang on, two seconds...”

You can’t answer the door to him in just a towel, you can’t, where—

You find the robe you’d spotted earlier, still hanging on the back of the bathroom door and grab it, pulling it on and tying the cord tight.

God, that’s soft...

Clearing your throat again, you take a breath and open the door, smiling widely as your eyes fall on him.

“Hey, sorry, I just had a shower.”

He takes an almost involuntary step back, his back straightening. “Oh, sorry—” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” You’re still smiling, and he’s returning it, albeit a bit softer and less forced, his eyes on yours.

“Right, I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie? I can make some dinner for us while you change?”

He’s just so fucking nice, how can I think such filthy things...

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

“All right, I think it’s your turn to pick the movie.”

“All right, I’ll get thinking.”

I hope I don’t sound as manic as I feel.

You watch him descend the stairs for a moment before you close the door and lean against it, closing your eyes.

Oh, God...

It’s good actually, that he turned up, you shouldn’t be thinking about him, it’s wrong, he’s your friend— 

Stop. Just stop thinking about it.

Opening your eyes, you exhale a long breath and move towards your new wardrobe, finding your pyjamas.

Right, now to just get through the evening without any awkwardness... and the rest of the week.

Okay.

Right.

Fine.

Perfectly easy.

— 

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