#natasha 002

[lenavaz]

WHO: Lena & @tashamadams

WHERE: Merrock Railway

WHEN: Railway 5K (November 23, 2024)

Of course Lena loved to run the race for the sake of running the race -- it was a good time, she got to raise money for various charities and see her friends and get her exercise in. And even more importantly: she got to dress up. She had agreed to meet Natasha at the race, promised to surprise her with a fun, holiday-themed costume, and Lena liked to think that she hadn't disappointed in her Christmas elf inspired ensemble. Spying her friend across the way, she grinned, jogging over and waving. "Ho, ho, ho, good buddy!"

[narilily]

WHO: Nari & @tashamadams

WHERE: Paradise Gardens, countryside

WHEN: Earth Week (April, 2024)

Any day was a good day for a picnic at Paradise Gardens, in Nari's opinion. But getting to do that during Earth Week, and on picnic day, made it all the more special. And tasty, somehow -- or maybe she was just hungry after a long day of picking up trash at the beach. Either way, by the time Nari was shaking out the picnic blanket and putting her basket down on top, she was beyond ready for a relaxing, easygoing afternoon. And thankfully, she had good company for it, too. "I packed a little bit of everything," she said to Tasha, a bright smile on her face. "Probably too much of everything, actually."

[rafaelcb]

WHO: Rafael & @tashamadams

WHERE: The Garden, suburbs

WHEN: March 17 (St. Patrick's Day)

"Have you ever played?" Rafael asked as he gestured between Natasha and the bean bag game that had been set up just outside of the patio at the Garden. "I've always called it 'bean bag toss,' and the first time I ever heard someone refer to it as 'cornhole' I just about lost it... but it's fun," he laughed, setting his drink to the side to reach for a couple of the bean bags, holding one out for Natasha. "Play a couple of rounds with me?"

[stellylee]

"The last thing that we need is to earn some sort of reputation as being total creepsters," they laughed, knowing that there were much, much better things to be known as. And besides, they could find another way to make it work and still have a good time, they were very sure of that. "I think the best baked goods are the ones that come to you fresh out of the oven. They're hot and they just have that little bit of extra good flavor to them, you know? Like the heat brings out the spices or something," and given that the autumnal foods seemed to use a lot of spice, that made it even better.

Tasha shrugged while smiling sheepishly, after suggesting asking to borrow a random kid. She didn't have any friends in town with kids except Tessa, but she didn't see her and the family anywhere. Otherwise she didn't know what else to suggest. But Stelly's suggestion definitely made much more sense, "ohhhhh yeah, that makes a lot more sense. And it's definitely way less creepy." She laughed, a full belly laugh, thankful the other had no judgements towards her regarding the suggestion if borrowing a kid just for a scavenger hunt. Wiping some sugar off her hands, she swallowed her bite and nodded, "Oh absolutely. And I mean it's still good, but it would have been absolutely divine fresh from the oven."

[ofmythsandfables]

@defectivexfragmented asked: 5c (Nat and Matt) | n.sf.w pregnancy meme

Ever since becoming pregnant, Natasha noticed all sorts of changes to her body, internally and externally. It was a weird, fascinating thing to witness, but was more fascinating than anything else was Matt's constant need for her. He was very attentive before the pregnancy, but afterwards? The man couldn't hold himself back with her no matter what. Not that Natasha complained in the slightest. Her libido was through the roof since becoming pregnant so the two were basically going at it every chance they got.

Which led these two in the current moment, with Natasha on all fours on their bed with Matt fucking her from behind. The sounds she made were absolutely sinful, since everything was heightened now due to her hormones and how sensitive her body was.

"Mmmm, Matt..." She moaned breathlessly, her eyes fluttering shut as she pushed back against each of his thrusts, to meet them as best she could. Her toes curled at the feel of his cock brushing right up against that sweet spot inside her and oh, how she craved more of that very feeling. "More...please, more. You feel so good..."

[ofmythsandfablesaa]

@defectivexfragmented​ did not ask for this unprompted starter but i need these two like i need air <3

❈ — She didn't even think twice about it. Didn't even remotely think about any consequences for her actions which was so unlike her. All she kept thinking about was wanting her lips on his. To finally taste him. 

Going over to where Clint sat, Nat wordlessly straddled his lap and while resting her hands on his shoulders, she leaned in for a firm yet sweet kiss.

[sytoran]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟐 — 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐉𝐎𝐁

kinktober day 002 | secretary!natalie rushman x ceo!reader

natasha's mission to retrieve a thumbdrive file involves seducing a high-ranking executive, and the seduction goes smoothly. a little too well, in fact, that she doesn't notice you're not all you seem to be.

cont. reader has a cock, power play, begging

word count. 1869

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

To Natasha, you were nothing more than just another target.

She was an unfathomably, dangerously-skilled assassin, feared across nations and intelligence bureaucracies. She was a Red Room widow gone rogue, taking things in her own stride and shifting the world upside down as she pleased. Renowned political figures and billionaire executives were dropping like flies, and you, were no different.

This time, Natasha Romanoff was going undercover as Natalie Rushman.

It had been embarrassingly easy for her to infiltrate security and create a false persona for herself. Climbing up the ranks of a corporate business like this one had been more time-consuming, sure, spanning over a few months, but Natalie would reap what she sow.

Chief Executive Officer Y/N L/N was all-too-easy to fool, even more gullible than the other targets Natasha had preyed upon. 

All it took was the classic seduction: bending over to ‘pick up a pen’, coincidentally right in your field of vision, clinging onto your arm and looking up with wide doe eyes while you talked, giggling shyly when you made a joke and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

In the end, all her targets got caught up in the Widow’s Web. You were rendered useless and completely at Natasha’s mercy, waiting to be preyed upon for manipulation and her own personal gain.

Or at least, that’s what you let her think.

“Fuck, baby,” you cursed, eyes screwed shut as your secretary bobbed her head up and down the girthy length of your cock, lewd noises escaping both your lips.

Natalie looked up at you through glossy eyes, bottle-red lipstick smeared but unarguably pretty, batting her eyelashes every so often. It had only taken a week of flirting before you took her home, your actions seemingly foolish.

“Take it all down your throat, Natalie, fuck,” you said breathily, hands tugging onto her hair as you chased your own high. Natasha almost choked on the length in her mouth at the fast pace you had set, but she quickly hollowed out her cheeks to engulf your wet heat once more.

Shit, it had been a while since Natasha had gotten such a thick cock, above average in length, too. Normally, these high-ranking executives had disappointingly miniscule excuses of a member, but this was thrillingly different. 

Still, Natasha couldn’t forget why she had made all this effort to get to your house.

“Fuck, babe, you’re too good at this,” you comment breathlessly, chest heaving as you come down from your high. “Bedroom?”

To speed up the process, Natasha finished you off with her hands working on the base of your cock, calculated squeezes and strokes that had you jerking your hips up as you toppled over the edge. Jets of hot white come went down Natasha’s throat, as she greedily sucked and swallowed.

Tastes fucking good too, she thought. Maybe this won’t be so bad.

Natasha had to refrain from rolling her eyes. What you wanted was predictable, to have your cock inside her. She wanted something different, though. It was why she had embarked on this mission in the first place.

“Can we go to your office?” Natasha asks instead, never failing to load up on that sultry tone that had people falling to their knees. She licks her lips drenched in your seed, kissing her way up your unbuttoned shirt as she rises to her feet. Her navigation of your surprisingly well-built body ends at the column of your neck.

Calculatedly, Natasha presses her slick lips to the hot skin of your neck, her residual lipstick making an enviable mark there. 

“I want you to bend me over your office desk.”

Natasha can’t help but smirk at your affected reaction. You hastily lift your secretary up by the back of her thighs, letting her hook her legs around your torso. A sloppy kiss kickstarts your burning need to meet her needs.

Of course, the sole reason why Natasha wanted to go to your office was to retrieve a very important thumb drive that was stored there. As you were the CEO of an incredibly powerful corporate firm, being able to have that kind of information meant a wealth of power, influence, and information.

There isn’t a doubt of the sinful possibilities floating through your mind right now, as you single-handedly unclasp her bra and rid of her remaining garments, as you stumble your way over to your office.

Everything was going according to Natasha's plan.

As if on cue, you kick open the door of your office and ungracefully deposit Natasha onto your desk. The way you’re manhandling her is arguably hot, and when you trail kisses down the back of Natasha’s neck, she quite nearly forgets what she came here to do.

“Need you inside me, now,” Natasha growls out, because she needs to get this operation going. What scares her for a moment is that her statement isn’t entirely untrue, because you were evidently more skilled than any of her previous counterparts and she so craved release.

 You certainly don’t disappoint in that aspect, forcefully bending Natasha over the desk as she wished, then painstakingly slowly dragging her skirt down with your teeth. 

“Fuck,” Natasha doesn’t mean to whimper when your cock slides between her wet folds, collecting slick arousal with that huge shaft, but she does whimper, and you let out a low noise from your chest.

As you’re busy getting your cock lubricated enough to enter her, Natasha seizes this opportune moment of your distraction to slides her hand over the desk to where your laptop was, unplugging the thumbdrive just as you speak up again.

“You’re fucking naughty, hm?” you growl, and Natasha freezes.

The fear envelops her whole, before Natasha realizes that you’ve remained blissfully oblivious to her actions and were trapped in the haze of sex.

“You’re fuckin’ naughty, wanting me to bend you over my table like that. Beg for my cock, and maybe I’ll let you use it.”

Natasha gulps, not understanding why she’s threatening to start drooling onto your desk, her body building up so much slick.

She’s the Black Widow, for fuck’s sakes, and she bowed down to no one. She was in control, dictating the decisions that crafted this very situation, hooking you around her pretty little finger.

After all, she had already retrieved the thumb drive. Her mission was already over, already completed. She had no reason to stay. She could knock you out cold in a matter of mere seconds, so why was she so hesitant?

Your grip hardens at her disobedience, and Natasha can’t help the whine that tumbles out when you pull your cock way from her wet heat. 

“You want it, hm? Then beg for it,” you repeat, dangerously close to Natasha’s ear, raising goosebumps with your hot breath brushing the surface of her skin.

Natasha wails when you push her back into the desk, pebbled nipples pressing into the cold glass. She’s clenching around nothing, wet walls fluttering emptily, slick arousal dripping down her thighs. 

Suddenly, you bring your hand up and harshly slap Natasha’s ass. The moan she lets out is downright pornographic, high-pitched and long-lasting as a red blush blossoms on her rounded ass, the pain stinging her skin and pricking tears behind her eyes.

It’s been so long, her body screams at her. You need this. Need to be fucked, need to be used.

“Beg for it.”

“Please! Need your cock, please,” Natasha babbles, finally, giving in to your urges. When you thrust your whole length down her tight pussy, all in one go, Natasha almost falls apart instantly.

You thrust up into her, hard, thick length pushing past her slick walls. If Natasha thought you were big before, with your cock in her mouth, now she knew you were fucking huge.

It isn’t long before you’re fucking into her with an animalistic nature, skin slapping against skin with dirty, lewd noises. “Can’t take the size, baby?” you question dryly, pulling on her hair as Natasha drools onto your desk.

Your cock is hitting her cervix with almost every thrust. The pleasure not only stems from the fact that you were the biggest she had ever taken, but also from your sheer skill.

Natasha’s first orgasm of the night comes in a tidal wave. It’s like water breaking through a dam, hitting her with a strength she didn’t know her body possessed. Her walls flutter around your girthy cock as she squirts. 

“Oh, Y/N!” Sinful moans of your name fall from Natasha’s lips as you thrust even deeper than she thought imaginable.

In other words, that was only the beginning of the rollercoaster-esque high you would bring Natasha to.

***

Natasha awakes with groggy eyes. There’s a warm, muscled forearm splayed over her torso, and it takes a fraction of a second before Natasha remembers it’s you.

“Shit,” she whispers, looking out of the window at the rising sun. She was supposed to leave your house last night, but the events had gotten more than out of hand.

The ache in Natasha’s legs and back is a blaring reminder of that fact. The image of sweaty, slick bodies moving together in a darkened room flashes across Natasha’s mind, and she has the decency to flush a pink-red.

Checking again for the thumbdrive in her strewn clothes, Natasha nods to herself assuredly and gets herself together to make an exit. Her eyes float to your sleeping figure. Looks like she had worn you out.

“You’re kinda stupid, but you were a good fuck,” she whispers with a tilted head.

As soon as the front door of your house clicks shut, you sit up slowly, letting the blanket slide over your toned abdominal muscles and down to your waistline. 

“Just a good fuck?” you ask amusedly. “Squirting three times in a row seems better than good, if I do say so myself.” Relaxed, you reach over to your bedside and take your phone.

Dialling in a number that you’d memorised by heart, the receiver picks up in less than two rings. “You’re fuckin’ late,” a gruff voice sounds out. “What did we tell you about not fucking the targets for the whole bloody night?”

You scoff in half-annoyance and amusement. As long as you got the job done, your bosses didn’t have any reason to question your methods. "You’re just jealous you didn’t get a taste of that sweet pussy,” you drawl out contedly, delighting in the aggravated huff that crackles over the line.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” you continue, your face taking on a more serious expression. “The Widow left my house thirty seconds ago, with the false thumb drive."

"Details?" 

"Swapped it out while she was cumming on my cock, sir."

"......Microchip tracking device?"

"Implanted in the top button of her blouse."

"Audio recorder?"

"In the hem of her very scandalous skirt.”

There is a pause on the line, but you know not to fear. When a low chuckle is emitted from the other end, you can’t help but smirk in smug satisfaction. The next words you hear are almost as sweet as Natasha’s moans of your name.

"Well done, Agent. Your mission is complete."

if you liked this, please give it a reblog! it means the absolute world to me &lt;3

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

[narilily]

"Anyone who thinks otherwise is not living in the same reality that we are," she laughed, shaking her head. Nari didn't mind dust. Dirt, cobwebs, all of it -- that just meant that you were a normal human being, living a normal life. People who had something against it were living in a glass house, and they should be careful about the stones that they were trying to throw. "There are very few foods that aren't made better with the addition of cheese," she nodded with a smile, and then let out a laugh, "well, except maybe for some sweet treats, we don't want those to have cheese with them, cupcakes should only have icing, for example… unless it's cream cheese icing?" Alright, so maybe they really could find a way to get cheese involved in everything. That was alright by her. "Very sweet," she replied with a sincere smile as Natasha got a little swoony over her boyfriend, feeling happiness for her friend and her once-again-found love. It was nice to see her in a good place. "Gardening is always a good hobby to pick up. Even if you start simple, just grow some herbs."

"Right!? Like come on people, dust happens," she said a little too loudly before chuckling at that, but knowing Nari as on the same page excited her. Dust was a part of life, it got everywhere and sometimes no matter how much you cleaned, it just came back. Plus no dust made things feel too clean and uncomfortable, like you couldn't be there without being afraid to break something. But turning her attention to cheese, she grinned, "absolutely. And plus it just added to the taste anyway," she said as she really just loved cheese. She'd hoped one day go on a cheese tour through Italy or Paris and just indulge. "That is true! And he did actually say 'I love you' so I definitely know it would be with love." She sighed, as Bryan made her weak in the knees, especially since getting back together in January. "I think so, I mean I definitely enjoy it more than I used to, and it almost makes me want to learn how to garden if I'm being honest."

[diealittlesometime]

Touch of Ruin

In a world where powers shape destinies, your ability to decay anything you touch has always isolated you—until you meet Natasha. Despite your inability to share a physical connection, Natasha becomes your anchor, offering a unique blend of emotional support and companionship. Together, you navigate the complex dynamics of a life shadowed by power, finding solace in your unorthodox relationship.

But everything changes with the arrival of Wanda, the enigmatic new Avenger whose intriguing abilities capture your attention. As Wanda's presence grows, tensions rise, and alliances shift. Now, you must confront your fears and choose between the comforting connection with Natasha and the compelling allure of Wanda.

──── CONTENT

pairing ☆ natasha x reader, wanda x reader

warnings ☆ (MINORS DNI) - slow updates, explicit content, strong language, mature themes, emotional triggers including scenes of power abuse, potential mild violence, and complex emotional dynamics. Reader discretion is advised as some themes might be disturbing or intensely depicted.

notes ☆ I hope you're doing well. It's been quite a while since my last post, hasn't it? Life has a funny way of keeping us busy, but amidst the things going on, this idea has been tugging at my thoughts, refusing to be ignored. So, I decided it was time to finally do something about it, to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and bring this thing to life. I hope you enjoy diving into this world as much as I've enjoyed crafting it.

Navigation | N.R Masterlist | W.M Masterlist

──── CHAPTER INDEX

001. Beyond the Touch [2.3k]

Your life has always been a lonely battle, every relationship and simple human contact carries the risk of destruction, leaving you emotionally and physically distanced from the world. However, everything begins to shift when you meet Natasha. Her understanding and acceptance offer you a glimmer of hope and a chance at companionship that you never thought possible.

002. Unseen Touch [3.5k]

As your bond with Natasha deepens, you start to experience a semblance of normalcy and comfort that had previously eluded you. Her presence brings a sense of security and the emotional support you desperately needed, allowing you to explore aspects of life you had always kept at a distance. Together, you navigate the challenges your power presents, finding solace and strength in each other's company.

003. The Catalyst [1.5k]

As you grow accustomed to the security and companionship Natasha provides, the arrival of Wanda introduces new complexities. Her enigmatic presence and intriguing powers draw your attention, stirring a mix of fascination and apprehension.

004. Undercurrents [2.2k]

As you continue to mentor Wanda, Natasha's unease grows, straining your relationship. Meanwhile, a new threat demands the Avengers' collaboration, but the mission's success only drives Natasha further away, troubled by your bond with the other.

TBA

[translatemunson]

file 002 — brand new bar, same old problems

chapter two of death defying acts

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cw: MDNI thank you, fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader (i'm really trying to keep my descriptions of her and her background to a minimum so i can be inclusive to all people, but let me know if i can improve), no use of y/n, reader has a call sign (i had to pick one, it makes sense for the story), innacuracies about the navy, topgun and army (i did my best guys), this takes places after the events of the movie, yes don't kill me but reader has a fling with another aviator won't say who, implied smut.

If surviving Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell and the Dagger Squad would be required for you to be sent overseas, you were not sure there was gonna be a lot of you left to fit in a plane seat.

In just two days and one quick chat with Maverick, you had to recognize there was no easy task in front of you. Maverick didn’t show any enthusiasm in your work or questions on that quick meeting, which was somewhat discouraging. You had been spending your morning reviewing previous logs of all of the fighter pilots, your afternoons watching them live on radar, taking notes of their data, style and skills, your evenings analyzing all of your notes and coming up with plans for the simulation.

You were in bed way past your normal schedule on Saturday morning. Your belongings would definitely sit on boxes for another week or two if you didn’t do anything regarding it. You had the essentials out — uniforms, underwear, laptop, hygiene products, and a picture of you with your parents —, but that was it. Even your kitchen was getting appliances as you started to need them.

You grabbed a clean change of clothes, your bag and headed out to do groceries and get your mind out of work. There were a lot of things to get done before you were back to base on Monday: firstly you needed some real food in your fridge, including new tea blends and pasta for when you’re too tired to cook anything that takes longer than 20 minutes. Then you had to pick up more pills for your headache. Maybe some flowers for your living room would make the place livable — and also push you to unpack a few boxes with your books and portraits.

Also you had to call your parents and brief them on your first days. Well, maybe that was easier said than done: while you couldn’t share much details about what you were doing, you knew they were ready to pull some interrogation tactics or whatever to get all the intel. Your father was the one helping you with the moving — because he was free in between flight classes —, but your mom was the one texting people to know why now they wanted to transfer you to San Diego.

Once the call sign Maverick was brought to the table, your father did all he could to get you another opening somewhere else. And as soon as you got the bigger picture of why you were being moved to work with Maverick and his team, the puzzle made sense. Even though they were successful on their mission, they had one more challenge ahead, and there was no margin for errors or close calls for this one — you were gonna receive more information about it after the first few weeks.

Maverick and the Dagger Squad were definitely a lot to deal with. Excellent pilots, an amazing sense of a team — maybe almost being killed does this to a group —, but you could see some flaws slipping through the cracks of their personalities. Maverick still hated authority and being told to follow orders. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin — not Bagman, unfortunately — could be a team player only if that benefited him, otherwise his wingman was the first to go down during training. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace was an excellent pilot, and Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd as her WSO was a great combo, but if paired with someone else, it was a hit or miss — you asked to change pairings on Friday morning, just to check if there was margin for new combos. Reuben ‘Payback’ Fitch and his WSO, Mickey ‘Fanboy’ Garcia, were also a great combo, but they needed a strong flight leader to shine and succeed. Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado was a good pilot, but only on good days — and that was something you couldn’t risk on a mission. And Bradshaw was living for his call sign Rooster, even though he had amazing decision making skills, he was always waiting for the last second to make a move. And that, in the field, meant death.

And those were just a few observations you could get from a few hours in front of the radars and live data from their training exercises. 

You went through your shopping list in no time, stopping for headache meds and some flowers just after you got lunch. Back at your one bedroom apartment, you, once again, found an excuse to avoid a Facetime call with your parents, but you made sure to text them some pictures of your progress — and thank your dad for finding a good place for you to stay, a 20 minutes drive from the base, and also in a walking distance of the Golden Hill Park.

Clothes on drawers and hangers, cutlery in the right places, uniforms in the washer, books in the shelves. You were slowly bringing together the sense of home to San Diego. Your last few weeks in Nevada were crazy: you were back from one deployment in the Pacific just to be called for another quick job in Alaska. Thankfully your dad had a few weeks off to go to Nevada and help you pack, driving all your stuff three days before your arrival and saying he would take care of housing. All you had to do was sign a few papers, pack the stuff you could send ahead and get ready for a quick stop up north.

The sun was setting when you realized you were almost done with things. Maybe you should let some for Sunday, so you could also keep your mind off of work. You got up from your bedroom floor, took a long shower and checked your messages.

On Friday, you were able to catch up with Bob over lunch, asking him about his journey after training. You also got close to Phoenix, kinda relieved she was just as nice as you remembered. You got their numbers, they got yours, and that’s how you end up with an invite to join them at a bar called Hard Deck in an hour. If you were gonna be around for at least ten weeks, you might as well do something else besides working.

 So you went through your clothes, searching for a black top, some jeans and a jacket for when it got chiller from the autumn air. Just some casual clothes to share a few beers and a few more stories. Still getting used to San Diego streets and skyline, you drove like you weren’t in no rush to get to the bar, appreciating the change of scenery from the desert to the beachside.

You parked outside the Hard Deck just a few minutes late. For a Saturday evening, the place was pretty packed, and you could see some clients were proud to walk around in their work khakis — something you avoided as much as you could. After all, you were just a few minutes away from the station. Texting Bob back to ask him if they were already there, you didn’t even hit send before you were able to pick your new colleagues amidst the crowd.

Nat was holding a pool cue on the side of her body, explaining something to Mickey and Bob. Hangman and Coyote were trying to impress some ladies on the darts board — and you were very sorry for those two poor souls, if they knew everything you’ve been hearing while on duty. You stopped by the bar, getting yourself some bar soda and starting a tab.

“You’re sure I can’t fix you anything else?” The lady behind the bar asked you.

“I’m good for now.” And then you turned to your colleagues and thought better, “Do you happen to remember what they’re getting?” You pointed to them.

“Sure thing, they’re just having beers. Are you friends with the Daggers?”

“Not exactly,” you watched her grab six bottles, serve some ice in the bucket and hand it to you. “I was relocated here to work with them. I know Bob and Phoenix from previous training, but that’s about it.”

“Oh, so you’re part of Maverick’s team?” She definitely knew them, not just because they would be spending their down time on Hard Deck.

“I’m part of the Intelligence Team working with them.” It didn’t get easier every time you talked about it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“It’s Penny, honey. Well, let me know once you decide to try something else.”

“Thank you, Penny.”

You took the drinks with you to the high top table just on the side of their pool table. Your upbeat spirit died down as soon as you realized Bradshaw was there. After being lectured about Maverick and Goose, Bradley’s father, you weren’t looking forward to tolerating him outside of work. His short temper and slow decision making was something that got on your nerves easily. But you should’ve expected this, since he’s a long time friend with Nat.

“Look who’s out of that desk, guys.” And unfortunately, Hangman was the one to announce your presence. “I thought you were the type to wear your uniform everywhere since you’re a goody-two-shoes, Hyde.”

“Unlike you, Seresin, I have a life and personality outside of base.” You pointed to his khakis. “And don’t worry, I’m not writing down your lack of hobbies, outside women and pissing others off of course. I could already tell that based on your flight maneuvers.”

“Looking forward to reading the file you’re writing about me.” He reached for a beer, and you rolled your eyes. “Thanks, honey.”

“I’ll be surprised if you can actually read,” you bit back. “But I’m not here to work. And these beers are a peace offering. I’m not the enemy.”

“So you just like to point out our weaknesses for fun.” Mickey approached you, but you could tell it was more of a lighthearted comment than a critique. “Thanks, Hyde.”

“Thank me next week when you ace the mission simulation.”

You passed them their beers. There was only one left, but since Bradley was more concerned with his pool game than a beer, you moved the bucket aside and turned to Bob, asking “Is this every Navy favorite place to go?”

“Kinda. It’s close to base, and the service is nice and fairly priced.” Bob looked at his water. “How long have you been here?”

“I arrived this week. My father helped me move, but I had zero time to wander around.” But who’s fault was that? Definitely yours. “They are a tough crowd, I fear.”

“Don’t worry, they eventually warm up to strangers,” he explained. “We’re still fresh from last mission, and fresh blood always disturbs a little of a group’s balance.”

“I guess I would know that if I worked closely with fighter pilots,” you confessed. “Most of my missions consist of assisting with data and probabilities when tracing plans and assessing risks. Sometimes I don’t even know who is receiving my reports.”

“But you’ve been training with pilots, right?”

“No real missions, just simulations, mostly with graduates from Top Gun back in Fallon.” This job could be the perfect blend of what you’re good at and your passion, but even though you had extensive training with Air missions, you were stuck with assessing risks for admirals and captains to take charge. “It’s my first real chance to be on a mission where I’m able to build a relationship with the people I’m working with, not just being briefed on the mission and its goals.”

“I see. Yeah, I believe you’re gonna do a great job, not just because I know you, but because there’s still room for improvement and you’re gonna be the key for it.” Bob tried to cheer you up, and even though you wanted to believe his words, the first few days were tough on you.

“Thanks, Bob. But I’ve meant it when I said I’m not here to work,” you laughed, leaving the pressure of your relocation for another time.

“So you better start sharpening your pool skills, Hyde.” Natasha passed you her pool cue and smiled. “Do you even play it?”

“Who do you think I am, Phoenix?” You gasped, as if her words were the biggest betrayal you ever faced. “It’s been a minute since I last played, tho.”

“It’s ok, you don’t need to be good at everything you do, you know.” She joked. “Ok, cutthroat rules. You, me and Rooster.” 

She reseted the table as she explained how it was going to work: she was protecting balls 1 to 5, you were in charge with 6 to 10, Rooster had 11 to 15 to himself. The goal was to pocket any opponent's balls while protecting yours. If a foul occurred, the other players had the right to place a ball back at the table.

Natasha breaks, and one of hers was pocketed right away. On her shot, she aimed for the 7-ball, but it lacked strength to send your ball to the pocket. You took a look at the table, spotting a chance to pocket the 12-ball. You walked to the other side, passing just inches away from Bradshaw, and sending his ball to the pocket. He looked unimpressed when you checked for his reaction. You tried to get one of Nat ball’s, but you picked the wrong angle.

Bradshaw fixed his sunglasses on the neck of shirt, assessed the table and went for the 8-ball. Everyone was tied on losses. He sent the 1 straight to the pocket. His third shot scratched the 6-ball and moved it to a dangerous spot, and you held your breath.

“Don’t worry, I’m on your side,” Natasha aimed for the 15-ball and sent it straight to the corner pocket. But it was still a risky position for your 6-ball, and you watched when she pocketed that one as well. “I mean, I took one of his first, which makes us even, right?”

“That’s not what I’ve learned on Math 101, but ok.” You shook your head. “What are you gonna do next?”

“I’m gonna,” she elongated her words, “maybe this one,” she pointed to the 5-ball, “or a small challenge with the 14.” She positioned herself, and missed the latter for a lot. “Your shot, Hyde.”

You sent the 14-ball straight into the pocket, then missed your shot. Bradley took the 3-ball out, followed by the 10, and missed the 7. Nat got the 9-ball, then missed. You tunnel vision on the 13, in the middle of the table, with a huge chance of error. The white ball hit all the wrong corners and you miss it. And it got the white one on the perfect spot to send your last ball to the pocket.

“It was nice playing with you, fellas.” You turned over your cue and crossed your arms, destiny sealed since Bradshaw was a way better player than you. You watched the 7-ball disappear inside the pocket. 

“Wait, Hyde, someone could get a foul, and you can come back,” Nat tried to pull you back to the table.

“I’m good with my loss, don’t worry. I’m not leaving, just wanna get something from the bar.” You took the now empty bucket — did Bradshaw get his beer or someone stole it? — to the bar and returned it to Penny.

“How is it going?” She smiled and motioned her head to the group.

“Could be worse. Can I have a tequila shot?”

“Sure, honey.” Penny checked something under the bar. “Is house tequila ok?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Can you get me one water and two more beers as well?”

“Coming right up.”

You took your phone of your pocket, and checked your messages: you were setting the family group chat aside for tomorrow morning; Lisa, your roommate from Fallon, was sharing updates on the gossip you were missing — not even three days and they didn’t failed to surprise you — while in San Diego; Ashton, still unaware of your transference, was asking if you were free. Yeah, things would never change.

“Here.” She laid your order on the counter. “I know you’re an Officer, but do you happen to have a call sign?”

“It’s more common to hear people calling me by it than my own name,” you shared, and she laughed. “It’s Hyde, a character from a gothic novel.”

“Oh, I believe I’ve read this book in high school.” She pressed her lips together and stared at you, like she was trying to put the pieces together. “Do you need some lime and salt for the shot?”

“No, not really.” Maybe not a smart idea since you’re driving, but that was the Hyde in you: nice face, good manners, but short tempered and always down to some trouble. “Thanks, Penny.”

You balanced your shot and the water in one hand, held the two beers in the other and moved carefully between the crowd to your friends. Back to the pool table, you watched Rooster send Nat’s last ball to the pocket.

“Oh no! And I thought you were each other's lucky charm,” you pointed out between her and Bob. You sat by her WSO’s side and passed him a water. “Or do you want a beer?”

“Water’s fine, thanks,” he offered you some nuts, and you gladly took a few.

“Here, a consolation prize for you.” You slid a beer for Nat as soon as she joined the table. You looked over her shoulder, seeing Bradshaw walking to the piano. “Is he always like that?”

You looked over your shoulder to Bradshaw. He carried a lot of resemblances to his parents — you could tell after hours looking through your parents’ photos, and seeing Goose and Carole in a few, with a kid Bradley closer. This was way before you were transferred to San Diego or decided to join the Navy.

You thought Bradshaw was just like you, until your father told you what happened to him. Father died after a failed ejection, his mom died of cancer, Maverick pulled his papers and set him back. You felt sorry about it, but if he was raised by Pete Mitchell after all of that, you were expecting to meet the younger version of the captain.

“Give him some time, Rooster is not much of a fan of changes,” she explained.

“As long as this doesn’t interfere with my job, I’m ok with not being friends with everyone.” You drank the tequila shot without making an ugly face, and quickly moved to your beer.

“Do you happen to know anything about our next mission?” Nat asked.

“I’m afraid I’m just as in the dark as you,” you shook your shoulders. “I know about the uranium mission though, which was pretty dangerous. I would’ve done a thing or two differently.”

“What exactly?”

“I mean, they could’ve timed the missiles to hit a few SAMs as you were leaving the valley, and make your way out of there smoother.” They were already flying a dangerous zone on less powerful planes, and exposed the hell of their jets, so not having at least a few bombs to help out was a little dumb.

“You’re kinda right,” Bob threw another nut inside his mouth. “Do you think they considered it?”

“Nah, I bet 20 bucks Admiral Simpson was looking for an opportunity to get rid of Maverick.” You took a sip of your beer.

“That’s cruel. But hey, if you have the chance to make our mission less dangerous, you have my approval.” Nat smiled.

“I’ll remember that.”

“Hey, have you always been part of Intelligence?”

You and Bob shared a look. “No, I joined the Navy after graduating from college. My parents are from the Navy, and they gave me the chance to choose. So education, then enlisting. My records say I graduated from Flight School because I completed the training successfully, but I got in an accident during the last week. Then, because of my college degree, they gave me a spot as part of the Intelligence, and I liked it there.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your accident. I bet you miss being in the sky sometimes.”

“Thanks, Nat. My dad is a flight instructor nowadays, and everytime we’re in the same base, he finds a way to let me fly for a few minutes.”

“So you’ve been keeping your flight skills in check? Why don’t you apply to Top Gun?” Bob inquired.

“I really don’t see myself doing what you guys do on a daily basis,” another sip, waiting for them to be convinced. You were way past that Top Gun chance now, anyway.

“A pretty thing like you fits better as a Top Gun pilot's wife,” Hangman came up to the table, a beer in hand.

“I rather crawl naked over hot tarmac than date an aviator, Bagman.” Maybe if the aviator wasn’t part of your team, but just maybe. “You guys are just trouble. Can’t keep your missiles in your pants, and flee as soon as possible.”

“You’re funny, Hyde,” he pointed his beer’s neck at you.

“Don’t let it fool you, Hangman, they don’t call her Hyde for nothing,” Bob warned him.

“Don’t have a lot of Jekyll going on, hun?”

“Oh god, you’re insufferable,” Nat exited the table as fast as she could.

“No wonder those girls left you hanging on the darts,” it was kinda undeniable that there was some tension in the air.

“If you’d excuse me, I think it’s the perfect time to call my girlfriend.” And Bobby was smart to take his cue to leave you two alone. He motioned to his phone, and you noticed the picture on the wallpaper: the WSO with his arms around a beautiful girl. But she didn’t look like anyone you’ve seen around at base so far.

“Needs babysitting, Bob?” Hangman teased.

“Should I remind you who fell for the feral koalas story, Seresin?” Bob biting back? That was a first for you.

You looked between the two men, intrigued.

“Go talk about pandas or whatever, Floyd.” Jake waved his hand.

“See you later, Hyde.” Bob walks to the external deck, phone in his ear.

“What did he mean with feral koalas?” You inquired.

“His lady is Australian, and one time she told us about how koalas got a disease and were attacking people, and she sounded very scared.”

“And you believed it?”

“I mean, there was a lady in distress!”

“Jeez, we should legally change your call sign to Himbo.”

“Him-what?”

You laughed and stared at Jake, “I’m dead serious about not dating aviators, tho.”

“Who said anything about dating?”

One thing led to another. Coyote left the bar with a girl on his side, Hangman was left without a ride. You offered to drive him there, since it was on your way home, but you were none the wiser after a tough week and a few tequila shots.

When the sun started to peak over the waves, you were far away from Jake’s bed and still very much sure of your promise. You were in San Diego with one goal and one goal only: earn that promotion. And nothing or anyone was stepping into your way.

a/n: hello aviators! first of all, thank you SO MUCH for the support on the first chapter. yes, i wrote what i wrote and i don't regret it (hyde hooking up with hangman, but it was mostly implied so don't worry, it's almost like it didn't happened haha). also even tho we know who the daggers are, hyde is still getting to know them, i couldn't pass on a hard deck introduction scene (top gun: maverick movie style!). well, let me know what you guys think about this chapter, don't forget to reblog, vote and comment! see ya soon!

[johnnystorms]

avengers twilight!steve, on regrets, memories and tony stark. written post-avengers twilight #002. stevetony.

Steve has a lot of regrets. Tony—not the real one, the best friend he lost on the day he lost everything, but the one he keeps in his head, his mind’s best attempt at a ghost of the person he misses most—says that’s inevitable, living as long as Steve has.

C’mon, Cap, he says, smiling that way his Tony used to: eyes as bright as the future he was always talking about, everything in him shining. Or maybe that’s just how he looked to Steve, young enough back then to not yet have blinked the stars from his eyes. You live long enough, you run the risk of anything outweighing the good memories. His smile fades, not enough to disappear, but to become something smaller, quieter. Tinged with something requiring care. Do me a favour, handsome. Try not to let that happen to you.

Steve doesn’t like disappointing Tony Stark, not even the one dreamed up inside his head, but he thinks it might be too late on that front.

If someone asked for a list of regrets, he’d have to give that wry, hoarse laugh that makes him sound as old as he feels, and say, Nobody has time to listen to all that. If someone had asked Tony, he’d have a breathtakingly clever quip or an outpouring of guilt, depending on his mood, and who had asked. If it had been Steve, maybe both. Matt would have thought about it, long and hard, and disappeared to a confession booth. Peter – Jessica – Logan – Carol – all of them, he thinks, would have their own laundry list of hauntings, justified or otherwise.

That’s the name of the game, he thinks. You have to take the wins for what they are, but it doesn’t make the losses any lighter to bear. Steve’s posture isn’t what it used to be, even with the Defenders’ replicated super soldier serum in his veins, but his shoulders were shaking under the crushing weight of all his mistakes long before his age caught up to his body.

Janet isn’t here anymore to ask, but he doesn’t know what she’d say. It’s not that he thinks she has no regrets—even outside of the hero business, that’s a tall order for anyone—so much as that’s not how he remembers her. When he thinks of Janet van Dyne, he thinks of her deft fingers readjusting the lapel of the suit she designed and Tony cajoled him into; he thinks of her tinkling laugh almost being swallowed up by Thor’s booming one, the two of them bent double at the disgruntled expression Clint was shooting their way one golden night back when the world knew what heroes were meant to be; and he thinks of her clever, smiling mouth, and the way nobody could ever resist smiling right back. Steve had been no exception.

He misses it so fiercely it burns. Jan’s smile and Thor’s relentless steadiness and even Peter’s terrible jokes as he chased the Human Torch around the city. Carol’s quick fists and Jessica’s quick thinking and Natasha’s quick draw, and the time the three of them had a punch-up contest with the Thing that ended in an exasperated Tony footing the bill to the city and Johnny cackling as Sue dressed down Ben for his part in it. Luke’s laughter as he slung his arm over Danny’s shoulder and Jessica Jones taking photos of the two of them and Logan and Bobbi in the corner, trading tales of Hawkeye’s Greatest Hits: Indecent Exposure edition.

And Tony—always, always Tony. The press of him against Steve’s side, a reassuring line of heat, like, hey, you’re not alone anymore. You’re not cold anymore. You have a team. You have me. His tired eyes and easy smile and razor-sharp wit, even half-dead on his feet. The late nights where Steve coaxed him out of his lab with a hot drink and the promise of conversation, the early mornings where Steve would wear a worried frown and say, you should really sleep more, Tony, and Tony would grin at him and say, and give up these early mornings where you bring me coffee and those big blue eyes of yours? Never, and Steve would sigh, but there would be something fond tugging at the corner of his lips, and Tony would look all pleased with himself, animated in a way no caffeine fix could ever cause, and Steve would want—

Steve swallows.

You’re drifting, baby. It’s Jan’s voice, that classic combination of fond amusement and concern that Clint used to perk up at being addressed with and Tony used to call the van Dyne special, all those years ago. God, Steve misses them all. He aches with wanting. You’re drifting. Bring it back home, Steve. Start with the most important bit. Let’s take it from the top.

There isn’t a team to report to anymore. It is not a new fact, a new thought, but every time, it hits him like a concrete block to the ribs.

There isn’t a team to report to anymore, but Steve Rogers breathes in, and thinks about it anyway. Take it from the top. The most important things.

How the tables turn, Tony says. He’s the only one Steve keeps. All his other ghosts flit in and out of his head, coming and going like the tides, but Tony is the forever haunting. The only one his mind holds onto on a permanent basis. D’you remember, oh, all the way back near the start -- one time you asked me if it got exhausting, thinking so much.

Steve remembers. Steve has never forgotten anything Tony Stark gave him, be it physical or a vow or just the smallest memory that wasn’t intended as a secret but became one in Steve’s desperate hands. The world has taken so much from him, from all of them, ever since H-day. He can’t talk about Tony, because what if the world takes that from him too?

How the tables turn, Tony says again, soft in that way most people didn’t believe Tony Stark could be. Steve knew, though. Steve’s always known. You look exhausted, Steve. Don’t let it be so big. Just -- right now, right at this moment. What’s the call, Cap?

That was what Tony had said that day, Steve remembers. The world was on fire, and about to become a whole lot colder, and they didn’t know that, didn’t know anything about what was to come, just that this was it, this was the moment, this was the do or die, and Tony had stood at his shoulder, the armour a familiar comfort against Steve’s side, and asked, What’s the call, Cap?

An itemised list of all of Steve Rogers’ regrets would take too long, and a ranked list of all time would be impossible to decide upon when Steve has such a long memory and even longer history.

So, in its stead, Steve thinks, he’ll give Tony the right now.

STEVE ROGERS’ TOP THREE REGRETS RIGHT AT THIS VERY MOMENT, 0142HRS, DEC 31 20XX, COUNTING DOWN:

3. Rosa. He’d deserved the slap. He’d deserved a lot of things, really. He’d had good years with Rosa; years of her no-nonsense love, of her careful hands, of the way she looked at him in the quiet of the night with all the warmth their little home could hold, like she still saw something worth believing in him. Maybe she did. He thinks she probably did. His wife was a lot of things, most of them good, but above all else, she was never a liar.

He’s sorry he blew up her life. He’s sorrier about that than the fact he blew up their life together, but that’s always the way it goes with him, isn’t it? There’s nothing he’s felt he had to keep more than the shield. It’s not that they matter less to him—God help him, but it’s not about the love. There’s never been a lack of love—but to his bones, to his core, he’s always been the guy who wants to stand up and help. If the fight needs to be had, he’s going to stand there, fists up, no matter who he is, no matter how old he is. No matter how super he is.

He knew that about himself a long time ago. Maybe if he’d stopped pretending that had changed, Rosa wouldn’t be stuck here now.

2. It’s a little one, in the scheme of things, but it also feels more important than almost anything else at this moment. He wishes he’d touched Matt, that last time they saw each other. Gone are the days where Steve would clasp his friends by the hand, something lost to time and loneliness and gradually brittled bones, but he wishes desperately that he’d clasped his hand to Matt’s shoulder one last time. Just a moment. Just enough for some phantom warmth on his palms, a tangible ghost of Daredevil, not just something dreamed up by his mind in the moments when losing almost everyone he’s ever trusted is insurmountable.

1. He doesn’t know where to begin with this one. H-day. The way it went down. Peter bleeding out in front of him. James Stark growing up without his parents, the best of them both twisted into something Steve can’t look at directly without feeling hopeless, helpless. Clint’s arrow snapped in half, a crater where the Thing should be. His last sight of Reed Richards, stretching further than he’d ever seen before as he reached out desperately towards his wife. Tony’s voice in his ear: what’s the call, Cap?

And that’s what it comes down to, isn’t it? His biggest regret. This one, he suspects wouldn’t change even if it was an all-time list. Tony Stark, the vibrant, blaring truth of him. Something Steve misses so desperately that when the world forced him to live without him, he made up a version of him to keep in his head forever.

It’s more similar to #2 than he thought. He has so many regrets, and so many of them are about Tony Stark—about that day, about missing people, about loving people and losing them because of the fight, whether they were lost in the fight or he left them behind to join it—but more than anything, he thinks he misses the feeling of Tony’s hand in his, pulling him in close, arm going around Steve’s shoulder to draw him into a hug.

I’m not half as good at anything as I am when I’m doing it next to you, Tony says, years ago, so far away from this moment that it might as well have been another world, and Steve, old and jaded and lonely and tired and missing the person he loves best so fiercely it aches in his lungs, thinks, You and me both, Tony. You and me both.

You and me. You and me. You and me.

-

(When the dossier falls open in front of him, with a blueprint of a tank and photos of him—photos of Tony, and even Tony in pieces makes Steve ache with something he thought had long been buried—spill out, let’s get it from the world’s smartest man, Tony Stark echoing in his ears—

Steve, for a moment, wants to throw up.

Then his jaw sets.

All right, Tony, he thinks. He doesn’t know if he’s addressing the ghost in his head, or the one in the tank, or some nebulous third thing, a Hail Mary thrown to the universe, some last passage of faith he thought he’d forgotten. What’s the call? You and me. That’s the call. I’m getting you out of there.

I’m bringing you home.)

[coquitokisses]

Trusting Again | chapter 002: the bombing

Word count: 1557

a/n: im gonna try to not put too much dialogues from the movies, yes, there will be some, but I'll try to not put too much.. it's tiring lol

series masterlist • previous chapter • next chapter

📍London

After we went to Peggy's funeral, Steve wanted to walk Sharon back to the hotel so Sam and I are currently in the lobby waiting for him.

"What do we think about Sharon?" Sam asked "And Steve."

"She's okay." I shrugged "If he likes her, then good for him."

"Thought you two were friends."

I let out a breathy chuckle. "I'm not friends with everyone who worked at SHIELD, Sam." I rolled my eyes

"You talked about her like you guys were friends."

"I mean, we've talked and we've obviously worked together, kinda, but I don't think friends describe our relationship."

"You hate her?"

"No, I just.. I haven't spent that much time with her to say if I like her or not."

"You're a rare breed, Cat," he rolled his eyes "you don't got any friends."

"That's not true." I looked at him "I got you."

"We're friends?" he raised an eyebrow

"Oh go to hell" I rolled my eyes and he started laughing

Yes, we are friends. We've been friends since we met, literally. But he's a pain in the ass sometimes. And I'm sure he says the same thing about me.

I looked up at the tv that was in the lobby and saw that they were talking about a bombing that happened in Vienna at the UN. And they had a video of the suspect and when I saw who it was, my jaw literally dropped on the floor.

"Look." I nudged Sam and pointed at the tv

"Holy shit." He muttered "Come on."

We got up from our seats and walked over to Steve who was talking with Sharon at the elevators.

"Steve." I called him and they both turned around

"There's something you gotta see." Sam said

In that moment Sharon received a call and after she answered it, she told us to go up to her room. Once we were there, Steve immediately turned on the tv so we could see the news.

"More than 70 people have been injured, at least 12 are dead including Wakanda's King T'Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, the infamous HYDRA agent..."

As they put on the video which clearly showed Bucky's face, I saw over at Steve and saw how he took a deep breath and how his body tensed.

"How the fuck..?" Sam said in a low voice since Sharon was on the phone

"That's impossible." I whispered

"What do you mean? They have a photo of him as evidence, Cat."

"Who cares about the photo, this doesn't make any sense." I sighed as I kept watching the news "There's just.. there's no way."

I really couldn't believe what I was seeing.

"I have to go to work." Sharon said

(...)

📍Vienna

So we flew to Vienna and we're currently in a little coffee shop. Steve is kinda freaking out with this whole Bucky thing, I don't blame him, I would be too if I didn't know where he has been all this time.

But I do know.

So I know he didn't do it. He wasn't even in Vienna.

"Try this." Sam gave me a piece of his dessert

"No, thanks." I shook my head

"Just try it."

"Oh my god." I rolled my eyes grabbing the fork and I ate what was on it

"Is good, right?" He looked at me waiting for my response

"It is." I replied with my mouth full and I gave him back the fork

I'm still kinda processing this whole thing. It just doesn't make sense that Bucky did it, last time I checked he wasn't even in Vienna. I gotta admit, it has been kinda hard to keep track of him, but thank god for my trainers.

A few minutes later, Steve came into the shop and sat with us after talking with Natasha.

"She tell you to stay out of it?" I asked him, he only sighed

"She might have a point, you know?" Sam said

"He'd do it for me." Steve replied

"1945 maybe." Sam responded "I'm just tryna make sure we consider all our options, the people who shoot at you usually end up shooting at us too."

"He's not lying tho." I shrugged and Steve looked at us before we saw Sharon coming in

"Tips have been pouring in since the footage went public." she said in a low voice as she stood besides Steve "Everybody thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym, most of it's noise, except for this." she discreetly handed a folder to Steve "My boss expects a briefing pretty much now so that's all the head start you're gonna get."

"Thank you." Steve said

"You're gonna have to hurry, we have orders to shoot on sight." she said before walking away again

"Still thinking she's just okay?" Sam looked at me

"Yes." I nodded

"She literally just handed Steve information on Bucky."

"She likes him." I rolled my eyes

"How do you know? Thought y'all weren't friends."

"I don't need to be her friend to notice that, you idiot, it's clear you're a guy."

"Someone clearly doesn't like Sharon." He rolled his eyes

"I never said that!" I said "You sound like such a kiss ass!"

"I am not!" He defended himself "I'm literally on Steve's side! As long as she gives us information, we're good." he shrugged

"You're an ass." I shook my head chuckling

"Both of you better keep it down or shut up, we're in public." Steve told us "We have to go."

"Go? Again?" I looked at him “Go where?”

"Romania." He replied grabbing the folder

“Oh my god, we keep getting further and further away.” I ran my hands over my face “I miss New York.”

"Come on, we have to go." He told us

"But I haven't finished my little dessert." Sam looked at him

"Ask for a to-go plate, dude." I stood up from my chair

"Damn it, man." he clicked his tongue

(...)

📍Bucharest

While Steve and Sam went to the location that Sharon gave us, I stayed in the car, I'm not tryna get killed, again. Besides, this one's on Cap, I'm only here for moral support (hopefully). And I'm listening to the radio in case they say any news. While also reading a magazine.

And in case they're about to die.

"Can you hear me?" Sam asked through the earpiece

"Yes, this is the third time you ask." I told him

"Don't move." Steve said "We might need you."

"I know" I rolled my eyes as I passed the page on my magazine "Please be careful, both of you."

"Always." Steve replied

And I just sat there, listening to the radio, reading the freaking magazine and waiting for the guys to tell me if I needed to speed down the fucking road.

Minutes passed. And I haven't heard them say anything in a while which made me worry a little but I decided to just stay chill and don't freak out. They will call if they need help.

And speaking of the devil..

"You need to come now!" Sam yelled making me jump a little

"Where are you?" I asked him throwing the magazine on the back seat

"We're on the same tunnel we took to come here!" he said "Ah, shit!" he groaned "Hurry up, dude!"

"I'm on my way."

I put the car on drive and pressed on that pedal very hard. I was at the tunnel in no time, but it wasn't that far away either.

"Holy. Shit." my mouth dropped when I saw the amount of police cars that were there

And I'm assuming they're following the guys, of course.

"Are you here?" Sam asked

"Yes, but there are too many cops, I can't see you guys." I told him as I sped up trying to pass the cops

This is fucking insane, we're getting arrested for sure.

"There are too many cops! It's literally impossible to go through!" I told him

"I have this guy onto me, dude, hurry up!" Sam said

"I literally can't!"

"Hit them or shoot them, I don't know! Fucking do something!" He yelled

"Fuck!" I hit the wheel and I took my gun out of my holster

I held the wheel with one hand and with the other one I snuck my hand out and shoot the cops tires so that I could finally pass through.

"I see you." I said to Sam when I saw him and he indeed had a guy onto him

I heard an explosion and I saw how the top of the tunnel started falling so I immediately hit the breaks, Sam stopped and moved his legs upwards making the dude go into the falling concrete. Sam stood back on the ground and I got out of the car to run up to him.

"Are you okay?" I asked him

"Yeah, I'm fine." He nodded "Ah shit."

A bunch of cops came around us pointing guns at us and yelling to put our hands up.

"Well, we're fucked." I sighed lifting my hands

They made us walk up to where Steve was and once we were there, I saw how they were arresting Bucky on the floor.

It's safe to say that they arrested us all.

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[wandasgf]

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[ofmythsandfables]

@defectivexfragmented asked: “ how much longer do i have to keep swallowing my desires for you. ” (nat, clint)

❈ — Blue orbs land on him.

She's leaning against the railing while standing on the balcony, gazing at Clint softly. There's always been that underlying tension between the two friends, but nothing had ever developed over the years. Mainly, it was Nat who made sure things never crossed that line. That was one part of her Red Room training that always stuck with her: stick to the mission, stick to what's important. There was no room for relationships or forming anything beyond contacts that were helpful in the long run. But it didn't take long for her to develop the friendships she had now, her family, and that certainly never meant she didn't feel a certain way toward Clint as time went on.

And now, in this moment as the two stared at each other, she didn't want to keep going the way they have. She wanted more.

"You never had to..." Moving off the railing, she walks over to Clint slowly until she's standing toe to toe with him. "But you no longer need to. And neither will I."

[ofmythsandfablesaa]

— “Matt. You look like shit. Let me fix you up…”

OPEN STARTER

"...I'm fine...it's just a scratch..."

[scinglives]

002. in front of the fireplace, cuddled up under a blanket with a hot drink. {From Natasha to Bucky}

Whilst Bucky didn't like the cold, this was what he enjoyed. Coming out to a cabin, having the fire on, Nat making them hot cocoa, his arm wrapped around her as she curled the blanket around them.

"This is all I wanted." He admitted softly, kissing the top of her head lovingly. "Knew I still had it in my to know how to start a fire."