#past clint barton x y/n

[hoppers-babygirl]

Forget It. PT5

Author: hoppers-babygirl All works are mine and none shall be translated, thank you!

kofi: ko-fi.com/hoppers_babygirl

Word Count: 3379

Warnings: Cursing, angst- lots of angst.

Header made by: @firefly-graphics

It was around ten in the morning when you woke up. Looking around groggily you realize a set of arms are wrapped around your waist. Your brows pinch in confusion and you look to find the person the arms belong to only to find Clint’s face buried into your pillow. You move ever so slightly to face him better. You never thought you’d wake up in his arms again one day. Usually you woke up in Bucky’s arms. A cloud of sadness threatened to loom over you but you wouldn’t let it. Not anymore. It wasn’t fair to you to keep overthinking what happened, it’s in the past and you had to pick up the pieces and move on. 

Sure you didn’t exactly have to move into bed with someone but you’re a grown woman and can do whatever you damn well please. As you’re lost in your thoughts Clint wakes up and is watching you with an unbelievably goofy smile. 

“Morning Princess, how’d you sleep?” His hand comes up to brush a few stray hairs from your face. His deep and husky voice brings a smile to your face. 

“Good morning handsome, I slept really well actually.” You turn your face so his hand cradles your jaw and your lips press a few kisses to his palm. His smile somehow grows even bigger. 

“I’m glad. You deserve a good rest especially after such a wild party.” He laughs softly as his thumb gently strokes your cheekbone. You hum quietly for a moment, “I’m guessing the usual breakfast routine?” Your brow quirks as his smile deepens. “You got any good coffee around this place?” He asks before sitting up in bed. You follow suit, pulling the blanket up around you as you rest your back against the headboard. “Yes I do. It’s in the freezer as usual and you obviously know where the coffee pot is.” You get comfortable in bed as he kisses your temple before he stands from bed and makes his way toward the kitchen. 

Smiling to yourself, you sit and recall your previous night. The sunlight shining through the curtains gave you a bit of a headache but you didn’t really mind. In the semi quiet you begin to recall events from the night before. You weren’t exactly sure how to feel, on one hand you can’t believe that you and Clint did what you did, but then again a slight guilt casted a shadow over you. 

Before your thoughts wandered any further your phone rang, it was Bucky. Biting your lip you click ignore and send it to voicemail. You knew you wouldn’t be able to ignore the situation for much longer but for now you wanted to just enjoy breakfast with Clint. You take a deep breath and get up from your position in bed. Standing up you stretch and wince slightly as you stretch your legs. A blush creeps up your cheeks as the pain reminds you of the night before. You hadn’t realized things had gotten that far out of hand but you also couldn't remember much at the moment as the headache began to creep its way over you. 

Quickly you throw on your robe and go to the bathroom to clean up and grab a shower. You washed last night off of your body and soon shut the water off before stepping out to wrap a towel around your body. Going over to your sink you fix your hair and begin to dry off. Clint called out to you letting you know breakfast was finished. 

Once dry and in your robe you step out from the bathroom and throw on an old shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms along with your slippers. Clint stood in the kitchen plating the freshly made pancakes and eggs wearing his pants from the night before, it looked a bit silly seeing him that way but you remembered he didn’t have anything else to possibly wear. You gave his cheek a soft kiss before you sat down in front of a plate. Coffee was brewing while orange juice sat on the counter. 

“I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for so I went with the basics. I drank a whole pot of coffee while you were washing up though, so if you want a cup you gotta wait until it’s done. If not, I grabbed you a glass of juice.” He explained before setting the pan that held the leftover scrambled eggs he had made on the stovetop. 

“It looks good, thanks.” You gave a smile before you started to eat your food. You hummed in delight at the taste of the pancakes that filled your plate as well. 

“Mm I think I’ll have coffee but I need syrup.” Clint chuckled and made his way over to the pantry to grab out the syrup for you. 

“Here, but you don’t have to thank me. Everyone needs good hangover food the next day.” He plopped in the chair next to you and began to eat. 

Your phone rang once again but you turned it to silent, Clint eyeballed you curiously as you nonchalantly stood to make yourself the cup of coffee you had wanted. 

“Aren’t you going to answer that? It might’ve been Tony giving us the itemized bill.” He snorted out a laugh. 

You stirred the contents of your mug and shook your head. “No, I want to enjoy breakfast without being disturbed. Well.. as undisturbed as I can be with you around.” You turn on your heel with a smirk teasing your lips. 

Clint dramatically scoffed and clutched his chest. “And here I made you a nice breakfast. Oh the heartbreak..” 

You laughed at his silliness before you took a cautious sip of your coffee. Humming at the taste you and Clint resumed eating breakfast in a peaceful silence. Eventually you finish your meals and you begin to clean up, Clint grabbed another cup of coffee for himself. 

A peaceful silence fell over you both as you cleaned the kitchen up as well as the dishes, eventually Clint finished up his coffee and made his way to go take a shower. After drying your hands off you walked into the living room and laid down on the couch. Your head didn’t hurt as bad as you thought it would but it still didn’t feel that great. Your phone vibrates once again causing a groan to fall from your lips, getting up you walked into the kitchen to retrieve it from the kitchen table where you left it last. 

“Hello?” You asked with a slightly harsh tone. 

“I should’ve known you’d be grumpy, you always are after a night of drinking.” Maria’s voice sounded through your speaker. 

You shifted from foot to foot as you felt silly for sounding so rude when you picked up your phone. 

“Sorry, I didn’t look at my screen before I answered. What’s up?” You hummed softly. 

“I just wanted to check on you, I saw you left the party last night with Barton.” She spoke. 

“I’m okay, it was a good night actually. Just got a headache from it all.” You explain as you move around your kitchen, grabbing the Tylenol from the cabinet and taking two tablets with some of Clint’s leftover coffee in his cup. 

“Yeah, it seems you two had quite the party going on before you left. You do know that everyone saw you two leaving the party rather quickly.” Maria wasn’t one for gossip but she was your friend and she did have a tendency to be nosy. 

“All I remember is the music was loud and the tequila was good.” Sure you cut some information out but not everyone needed to know the events plus you weren’t even sure what last night was all about yourself. 

“You know- nevermind. Just make sure you rest up today. Work’s just too quiet without you.” Maria ended the call with those words leaving you wondering what she was going to say. 

But your thoughts were soon interrupted as Clint came out of the bathroom a few moments later with his towel wrapped around his hips perfectly. The sight caused your lips to curl into a smirk, “You going to do a walk of shame back to your place in my towel?” 

“You know me I don’t care if anyone sees me, I’m sure half of this building has seen me naked at least once.” He shrugged with a dopey grin. 

His words made you laugh, he was right. “Just don’t forget to return the towel, okay?” 

His smile fell a bit. “Oh… I figured maybe I’d grab some of my things and come back here.” He explained.

“Oh..OH.. uhm I don’t know I mean isn’t there someone else you could stay with? Someone who you haven’t slept with?” You tease with a half assed smile. 

“I just didn’t think either of us would want to be alone but it’s cool, don’t worry I’ll have your towel back to you.” He began to gather his clothes from the night before. 

A pang of guilt hit your stomach, he wasn’t wrong about you not wanting to be alone but you weren’t even sure what to make of last night so what would it mean if he did stay over? As you were in your thoughts he started for the door which made you scramble to your feet. 

“Wait! Wait- you’re right. I don’t want to be alone but I don’t really know what we’re doing and I just thought time away from one another would give us some time to figure out what the hell we’ve been doing.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

Clint was stopped in his tracks, for a moment he paused as you spoke but soon enough he too stepped out your door. Your shoulders slumped and you let out an exasperated sigh before you moved to lay down in bed again. 

You close your eyes and eventually doze off once again, as you lay curled up in bed you soon feel a dip in the mattress. The feeling caused you to wake up a bit, looking up through tired eyes you could’ve sworn that you saw the long dark hair you had grown used to lying there beside you- a banging noise woke you up causing you to gasp and sit up quickly in bed. Looking around you grew a bit disappointed at the empty space in your bed, it was just a dream.

There was another loud noise which caused you to get up from your bed. You hadn’t realized that before you went back into your room that you locked your door. “Hey, let me in since you won’t answer my calls.” Clint’s voice sounds from the other side of the door. You sigh in relief and open it up to find him now dressed and your towel he took earlier cleaned and folded up neatly in his grasp.

“Must you be so loud?” You groan and move out the way to let him in your apartment once again. 

“Like I said- you didn’t answer my calls and I wanted to bring this back.” He tossed the towel on your kitchen table as he moved his way into your living room nonchalantly.

He plops on your couch and looks back as if asking you to join him. Which you do after closing your door once again. 

“Did you wanna order a pizza?” He glances at his phone for the time. “It’s almost dinner anyways.” 

You hadn’t realized that you were asleep for that long. Plopping onto the couch you nodded, “Yeah might as well.” 

A beat of silence fell over you both before you spoke up, “Why’d you come back after me being an ass?” Your voice soft as you spoke. 

“Because you were right, we probably should figure out what the hell we’ve been doing but I didn’t want to be alone so I came back anyway.” He shrugged.

You nod and hand him the remote to which he puts it on some show with dogs dressed up as cops but you don’t care. It was cute and amusing enough to keep your attention while Clint called in the pizza order. 

After a few episodes he got the text that the pizza delivery guy was waiting in the lobby of the compound so he got up to grab your dinner. While he retrieved the pizzas you decided to grab drinks and plates for you both before bringing them into the living room knowing he'd wanna watch a movie while you two had dinner. A few moments later he came back with four boxes of pizzas which almost made you wish that you had placed the order instead of the man obsessed with pizza. 

Shaking your head with a chuckle you grab two of the boxes to help him as he sets the boxes down in the kitchen. “You’d think I would learn to make the call to the pizza place myself but for some reason I just haven’t yet.” You tease. 

“What can I say I just love pizza.” He joked as he opened the boxes showing you the different pizzas he ordered. One with all meat, one with all cheese, one with veggies and meat and the last with pepperoni and pineapple. You hum at their delicious scent and pick a piece up from each box before you settle back on the couch once again. 

Eventually Clint joined you on the couch with his plate full of pizza and he grabbed the remote control changing the channel to some comedy that played in the background. You didn’t pay much attention to it as you ate but every so often Clint would laugh at the movie's antics. While chewing on a bite of your pizza your mind began to drift, you wondered what Bucky was up to right now, was he and Natasha sharing dinner together just as you and Clint were? Or was he hanging out with Steve and Sam? Maybe he was out with someone else already, you couldn’t blame him if he was. Soon enough your thoughts were interrupted as Clint gently bumped into your shoulder to get you back to reality. 

“Hey.. hellooo.. Watcha thinkin about?” He hummed and set his plate down so he could turn in his seat to face you better. 

“Hmm? Oh- nothing important. Sorry I didn’t mean to space out, guess it’s just one of those days.” You explain, your stomach began to knot up so you set your pizza down as well. 

“Yeah I get that, I mean I keep thinking is Natasha thinking about me as much as I have been of her? No offense.” He said. 

You nodded. “I don’t mind. I’ve been doing the same thing too about Bucky of course, but it’s also been nice to hangout with you again before I totally hated your guts.” You tease with a small smile. 

He chuckles in agreement. “Yeah today has been kinda nice, no major arguments or anything crazy like that.” 

You grow quiet for a moment. “So.. why did you and Nat break up? I mean she’s clearly the one you wanted to be with all along.” Clint squirms in his seat at your question. 

“I told her that I loved her and she kicked me out.” He said quietly. 

“That's a little weird but I mean I don’t blame her.” You say. 

“What do you mean? Are you siding with her?” He grew defensive. 

“Clint you can’t really be mad at her right? Well I guess you are if you slept with me but seriously being told I love you from someone is big especially with her history.” You go on to explain. 

“What do you mean someone with her history?” He asked, aggravation laced in his tone. 

“Did you know nothing about her? C’mon man. She has been mistreated by men all her life and then finally she trusts one enough to let into her life and then you expect her to return this grand gesture? You should’ve realized that her boyfriend telling her that you love her would be a much bigger deal to her than it was to you.” You explain.

“But it was a big deal to me as well!” He protests. 

You shake your head. “No Clint, you’re not getting it. She’s probably scared to tell you that she loves you too because she's been manipulated so much in her life that she doesn’t believe she can have anything good happen to her like the man she probably loves, tell her plain as day that he loves her.” You weren’t sure why you were defending Natasha but if she and Clint could salvage what they had then maybe you and Bucky could too… 

Clint shook his head at you but deep down he knew you were right. Dealing with Natasha was almost dealing with a skittish cat, one false move and she would be spooked. “I felt so stupid after telling her but you’re right. I never really thought about it like that until now. I just thought maybe she didn’t really love me, that maybe I was too needy or too childish for her and that telling her that I loved her was the final straw for her. But I just don’t get why she’d be hanging around Bucky if she really did love me.” He said. 

“Probably the same reason you and I are hanging around each other, we’re familiar. Now don’t get me wrong it’s hard seeing them together but you have to remember they’ve known each other longer than we have, longer than you and Natasha have known one another. And even if she doesn’t actually have any feelings for him, she still knows that it won’t need to go any further than what it might have already, which means she won’t have to deal with something so life changing. Why didn’t you just go to her and talk this out instead of coming here to get drunk and fuck? I mean hey the sex was good, great even but you’re smarter than that. You know you two would have figured things out.”  

He sighs and gives you a shrug. “I don’t know… maybe because with you it wasn’t so hard. I love you meant I love you and I want you out the apartment really meant I want you out the apartment. But with Natasha sometimes it was a guessing game, sometimes things had double meanings to her and I was tired of trying to play her game.” He said. 

You shake your head at him once again. “You wanted out because shit got too hard and you didn’t want to keep putting in the effort to fix things because that’s what you do.” 

“You know I wish I didn’t even answer your question. You have no right to say this shit when your relationship went to hell too.” He throws in your face. 

You scoff. “You do realize we were engaged right? I know your habits Clint. You might be mad at Natasha for being the way she is but you’re just the same Clint. You play this game of just being the dumb country boy but you know better! You only play dumb so people won’t expect as much out of you as they should!” Your voice grows louder with your words.

“Maybe this is why Bucky left you because you like to play therapist to everyone but yourself. Have you sat back and really thought about what went wrong in your own relationship or are you just diagnosing your breakups as everyone else's problems?” Clint spat out before he stood up and headed for the door. “You know what this is why I left the first time, I shouldn’t have made the mistake of coming back here.” 

“Go ahead Clint, walk out on me once again just because you don’t like what you’re hearing!” You call out as he nears the door, his hand gripping the handle he turns back and looks at you just before slamming the door behind him. You throw a pillow at the door with an annoyed growl.

Taglist: @bubblegumbarnes@geeksareunique@lostinthoughtsandfeelings@atinytinyhypewoman@vicisbookishblog@sourpatchspinster@abswritesfandoms@writeroutoftime@of-outerspace@tazzi-baby@tcc-gizmachine@wally-darling-hyperfixation@xoxabs88xox@multifanworld@supraveng@boundtomyfate@iheartsebstan@ilovemysupersoldiers@queenoftheunderdark@cobym@marvelkeepsmesane@tommosononlyangel@daintysan@gay-vibing@starrybeesandlibraries@marauders162@lethallyprotected@winterslove1917@cjand10@sergeantbarnes1917@deedee8855@boundtomyfate

and anyone else I missed!! <3

[please-destroy]

A Place To Be

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

.

You’d been training for this your whole life. 

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

Unexpected threats, incorrect mission information and a thunderstorm. 

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

You never got a definitive answer about the cheating. 

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I knew you’d make a great Avenger. 

Thanks for proving me right. 

Natasha.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your phone buzzed in your pocket midway through the meal.

You slid it out to see a text from Clint.

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

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

.

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

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

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

The room felt too quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Bruce told me about your almost birthday party.’ 

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

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

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

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

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

You noticed her shoulders stiffen slightly at your proximity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Natasha rolled her eyes.

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

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

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

Her mouth relaxed almost imperceptibly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, you moved to stand behind her.

‘Lift your hair.’ You told her softly. 

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

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

You stayed steady in your resolve, waiting quietly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

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

So, you found one with Natasha.

[sytoran]

home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting

word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

*****

In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.

After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.

“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.

“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries. 

“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.

Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile. 

The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.

“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.

Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.

“Oy, lovebirds!”

At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.

Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas. 

Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.

“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.

“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila. 

Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.

“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him. 

Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically. 

Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”

Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells. 

“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —

And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie. 

The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.

A quiet hush falls. 

Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.

“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”

*****

As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly. 

Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair. 

“You ready to ride the waves, bub?” 

“Yeah! I’m ready!”

Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.

Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art. 

Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?

“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.

You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily. 

When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.

Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.

“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”

“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”

“There goes my heterosexuality.”

You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.

“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?” 

You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.

But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.

“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.” 

It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.

“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”

Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.

Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.

Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.

“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.

The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.

“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair. 

You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.

“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.

You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts. 

The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.

“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.

Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.

It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.

Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely. 

Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.

“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.

You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.

Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly. 

“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”

Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.

You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”

Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.

*****

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.

You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”

Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.

Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.

As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.

You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.

As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.  

The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot. 

Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.

You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.

“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.

“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.

“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.

You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from. 

“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest. 

“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness. 

Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.

In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.

“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.

In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—

“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air. 

But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.

You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)

“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.

“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.

“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.

Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response. 

*****

Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting. 

And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.

You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.

Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.

“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you. 

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.

The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself. 

The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.

“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.

Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.

“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.

“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.

You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.

“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.

Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.

“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.

“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.

“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure. 

Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.

It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.

Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes. 

Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.

You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.

Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.

Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange. 

With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.

“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”

Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”

“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”

*****

and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!

reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

[starkenobi]

Demonic Domination | MASTERLIST

masterlist

Sumary: Y/N doesn't classify herself as a vigilante or, as people on the internet say, an antihero. No, she's just an occult detective with a fucking amnesia trying to create a new life beyond her secret mutant status. At first, she really tried to keep a normal civilian life, but it's difficult when you're rescued from a dark place by a man dressed as a mummy ninja calling himself Moon Knight. So, anyway, working as an occult detective makes her travel around the world, and it's cool because it gives her a lot of stories... Until her feet touch New York's ground. It's all downhill from there.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader; Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader.

Warnings: +18 romance; angst; fluff; smut; violence; torture; gore; cursing; pseudo harem; not following 100% mcu events; feelings. English isn't my first language, so please be kind. chapters have their own warnings, too, for safety.

MAIN STORY CHAPTERS (coming january)

Prologue [off the record]

1] Lo Hecho Esta Hecho | on a rainy night, y/n is rescued by moon knight, and for a while, london becomes her home. but no one can really escape fate, not when your former lover is death herself.

2] Nuns on Cocaine | maybe traveling around the world solving cases and dealing with cryptids isn't that bad, unfortunately someone decided that was a great idea to play around with the occult and scientific shit, now y/n needs to clean some superheroes' mess.

3] Boss Bitch | y/n isn't one to be intimidated. yes, her memory is shit and she can't really explain her knowledge, but she knows how things go. she can deal with vigilantes, their work similar to hers, there's no glamour or riches. but fuck superheroes and their super shit, y'know? even if they're hot and gorgeous as fuck.

4] Voulez-Vous? | there's an expectation in the air, a tension that's not only about want or need. of course, there's a fricking bomb and a targed on her back. if only she could remember why. at least she has the devil on her side.

5] Seal It With a Kiss | a crush, a casual fling, a passionate night, a you're made for me, a can't lose you now, a maybe im already falling in love. but y/n will deny it till the end. she's not going soft. she'll lie through her teeth, but a promise is a promise, even if you don't say the words out loud.

6] Murder On The Dance Floor | she should have seen it coming. of course, nothing is that simple. she's not jealous of their past, but she can't ignore the feeling of trying to keep up with them. she's stuck in the middle. now isn't fun anymore.

7] People Disappear Here | she knows every one of them has a terrible past (and ghosts), but this chaotic dirty nightmare is hers, so fuck it. she's going swinging it like the devil. maybe it's time to finally be the boring grown-up.

8] No Good Deed Goes Unpunished | her past officially came like a wrecking ball, nowhere to run or hide. with her memories back, she wishes everything was different. and then there's the most important question: how much does a life cost? she doesn't know, she can't fucking die.

EXTRAS:

moodboards: y/n | natasha romanoff | bucky barnes | matt murdock

characters list: moon knight boys; tony stark; clint barton; steve rogers; frank castle; wade wilson; bruce banner; logan; kate bishop; yelena belova; maria hill; fury; thor; scott lang; wanda maximoff; pepper potts; peter parker; stephen strange.

[eufezco]

IMGONNAGETYOUBACK

Set during Avengers: Endgame, you time travel to 1943 to see Bucky but you end up meeting a very different version of him.

bucky x fem!reader (angst) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

You were leaning on the doorframe, watching as Hulk, Nebula and Rhodey fixed Scott Lang's time travel suit. Clint Barton was by your side, you both had shared some suspicious glances after seeing how Scott was behaving. He was restless, throwing deadly looks at anyone who dared to handle the Pym Particles, constantly moving and deconfiguring the suit over and over again.

—I'm not ready to do this —. Scott finally confessed with a sigh.

—I'll do it. I'm ready —. You said right after. You volunteered so quickly as if you had been waiting for Scott to quit to take his place.

Nebula, Rhodey and Hulk looked at each other and slowly nodded. Scott felt relieved that he didn't have to do it himself and you couldn't be more prepared. Since the idea of time travel had been around the team, only one thought had been in your head. Only one person was in your thoughts and you had to get back to him any way you could.

You put on the time travel suit and you walked towards the huge Quantum Tunnel that they had built. Natasha, Clint, Rocket and Thor decided to join Nebula, Rhodey and Hulk in monitoring the test. Steve arrived at the last moment when he knew you were going to be the one who was going to time travel.

You stepped onto the big platform and waited for directions. If any of them asked you at that moment if you were nervous, you would say no, but the truth was that your hands were shaking, there were drops of cold sweat sliding down your forehead and your heart was beating hard and fast against your chest. You just hoped this would work.

—It may make you nauseous but it is completely normal, you are going to travel across the Quantum Realm to the past. I'm going to send you back a week, let you walk around for ten minutes which for us will be ten seconds. So I'll count to ten and we'll bring you back.

You nodded to everything Hulk was explaining.

—Are you ready?

—Actually —You cleared your throat. Everyone looked at you thinking you were going to quit —. Could you send me back to 1943?

—That's quite a leap in time. It may be dangerous. Why don't we start by trying something a bit less—?

—I don't care. When we travel back in time, we will not travel back to a week ago. We can't waste time.

The big green man was surprised but quickly touched a few buttons and fixed it to send you to the date you told him. Everyone seemed confused except Steve who immediately understood why you had volunteered for the time travel test.

Natasha and Clint also knew your intentions when you mentioned that specific year, they didn't know what happened in 1943 but they knew how hard you had fought to have Bucky with you. From fighting Tony Stark, one of your closest friends, to travel to Wakanda to work with Shuri to remove the Winter Soldier program from him. All of that until he was blipped by Thanos.

But no one knew it as well as Steve. He had seen you mourn the loss of Bucky more than three times, that was why he was looking at you from his position with an approving expression on his face while he nodded to you. —Good luck. You got this —. Steve said and his words gave you the security you needed to make that travel calm.

—Are you sure it will be good for her to do that? —Natasha whispered to Steve.

He shook his head. It was a terrible idea, going back to the past to see him and then coming back to the present and not having him. It would only comfort you momentarily and would make his loss even more painful. If Steve had known why you wanted to travel to the past before, he would have tried to convince you not to do it but now it was too late and he could only support your decision as Hulk counted down to three and you were sent into the Quantum Realm.

As you traveled, you tried to stop spinning around because if you didn't you would have worse nausea but you found it impossible. You were thankful that it was short and went fast and when you realized, you were shot into 1943 as you came back to your normal size.

You fell to the ground in the crowd. You looked around, surprised by the fact that the time travel had worked. You caught the attention of everyone around you, the ladies gasped and the gentlemen bent down to help you get back on your feet, you felt the nausea that Hulk had told you about but you managed to control it. The people around you asked you if you were okay, if you had hurt yourself.

—You must be a big fan of Mr. Howard Stark, Miss. Your clothes are really futuristic, did you sew them?

You looked at your time travel suit and then looked at the clothes the people around you were wearing. The women wore long dresses, the men top hats and walking sticks. You couldn't believe it actually worked. You nodded, going along with them.

—I am looking for a man. I have lost him in the crowd —You smiled kindly even though you were scared to death. Your hands were shaking, you didn't know how the lump in your throat was letting you speak. The man you were talking to you nodded, understanding your situation. —He is a Sergeant, his name is James Barnes. Brown hair and blue eyes. People know him as Bucky.

The man shook his head and apologized for not being able to help.

The time-space GPS that Tony made beeped once. You had already used half of your time. You felt a pressure in your chest that made it hard for you to breathe and that urged your feet to move quickly through the crowd. Shoving people out of your way, pushing those who didn't want to move. The test was a success, you had traveled back to 1943 but you needed to find him before you ran out of time.

Your heart stopped every time you ran into a man dressed in a military uniform, crossing your fingers wishing that they were Bucky and cursing every time you found out they were not.

And then your feet stopped all of a sudden when you saw him in profile at the candy apple stand. You remembered that that day you also bought two candy apples and the way you and him laughed when you realized that you had had the same idea. Bucky was talking to the owner with a smile on his lips, he was young and in love, he was going to a war that would give him a lot of recognition, he had so many reasons to show that big smile of his.

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn't realize that he started walking away in search of your 1943 self. Your breath quickened as you saw that you were going to lose him in the crowd.

You called his name once, too quiet for him to hear you. Your feet started to follow him while you called his name again but he didn't hear you that time either. You started walking faster and calling his name louder, your heart beating so hard against your chest that you thought it was going to burst out of you. Bucky was walking fast and the noise of the people and the exhibition was too loud. You ran to reach him when your time-space GPS began to beep uncontrollably.

—No, no, no, no... —You complained.

And then you shouted his name and Bucky turned around but by then the helmet of your suit had already closed and you were quantum.

You were so angry as you traveled back to the present. You hit your suit hard, you hit your helmet hoping it would shatter and the tunnel would spit you out at some point in the timeline where you and Bucky were still together. And then you hit your time-space GPS and the tunnel instead of pushing you into the present sucked you back into the past.

You fell to your knees in a cold room. It didn't take you long to realize that it was a cell. Behind the bars, there were several armed men, but on the other side of them, there was only you and Bucky.

You were at his feet. You gasped when you looked up and saw him, sitting in that torture-like chair with the vibranium marked with the red star rebuilding his left arm. Bucky looked at you with a slight frown, he was disoriented, seeing Steve that day at the bridge, his friend calling that familiar name, and now your face that was so familiar to him appearing out of nowhere inside his cell... All that had managed to bring back some fuzzy memories that only made him more confused.

Bucky did not take his eyes off you, his fists were clenched in a defensive position but he did not seem to have any intention of attacking you. His frown confused you, you thought he was furious but he was actually terrified, he was gaining consciousness and he did not know how to handle it. Your eyes began to fill with tears when you saw the symbol of Hydra on the wall behind him.

—I know you. You are the girl from the bridge. You were there with him.

You nodded and wiped your tears with the back of your hand. There was no sign of the cheerful soldier you had seen a few seconds ago. —Yes, yes, yes. That was me, Bucky.

There was that name again,

At that moment your time-travel GPS beeped.

The guards keeping Bucky's cell turned in alarm when they heard the beeping sound. Once they saw you, they started yelling for the door of the cell to open while pointing their guns at you. You turned to look at them in fear, the bars began to open slowly, they were going to come in at any moment. You focused on Bucky again and crawled over to him. He was breathing heavily as he watched the guards about to go in.

—Buck, listen to me —You grabbed his hands. He laid his eyes on you. —This is not you. We're going to get you out of here. Steve, the man from the bridge, and I are doing everything we can. We will fight for you and someday you will be free. This isn't going to last forever I promise.

You heard the military boots coming into the cell and walking to you. You didn't have much time. You threw yourself at Bucky and hugged him. He stood still, his arms didn't hug you back while your hands encircled his neck and pressed your body against his hot, naked chest.

—Everything is gonna be all right I promise —.You sobbed in his ear.

The guards grabbed you by your arms and fought to take you away from Bucky but you fought even harder to stay with him. In the end they managed to get you away from him.

—Wipe him and execute her.

You kicked and cried as the guards dragged you out of the cell. The guards strapped Bucky to the chair, they put a gumshield in his mouth, his chest heaved as he gasped for air. Bucky kept looking at you as the guards tried to get you to your knees. The panels on either side of Bucky's head began to lower over his face, one of them covered his left eye, the other one covered his right cheek. You closed your eyes tightly and looked away as Bucky began to scream in pain.

As the guards were holding your arms you could not even cover your ears. His screams were unbearable. Your cheeks were wet from all the crying. You fought even harder against the hold of the guards but they hit the back of your knees and knocked you to your knees. Your GPS started beeping uncontrollably. You heard as they loaded the gun and put the barrel against the back of your head. Before they could pull the trigger, you became quantum.

While you traveled back to the present, you could still hear Bucky screaming, ripping his throat, and biting down hard on the gumshield, you could still see his terrified blue eyes looking directly at you. And you could do nothing for him, it would be years before you could help him. You covered your head with your arms and screamed, trying to silence Bucky's cries with your own.

Steve quickly went up to the platform when you came back. Natasha and Clint followed him. You were on your knees on the floor, curled up in a ball, with your arms still covering your head. Steve wrapped his arms around you even though you tried to push him.

As your tears soaked Steve's shirt, he turned to look at the rest of the team. —It worked.

[magical-reid]

Ricochet

Pairing: Bucky x Fem! Reader

Slow Burn/ Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: Bucky and the reader's relationship starts off rocky, marked by tension, mistrust, and bickering, especially due to their shared past with Hydra. However, over time, their interactions soften as they begin to understand each other better, with moments of respect, mutual concern, and subtle attraction emerging amid their fiery exchanges.

Reader’s POV

The elevator ride to the top of Avengers Tower was too quiet, too long, and too nerve-wracking. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this—I was supposed to be excited, grateful even. Joining the Avengers was a big deal. The deal.

But all I could think about was the man waiting on the other side of the shiny metal doors.

Bucky Barnes.

The Winter Soldier, they used to call him. The Ghost. The most terrifying assassin in history. Now, they called him an Avenger. A hero. A man trying to rebuild his life, just like me.

Except, he hated me.

The elevator dinged, interrupting my downward spiral. I adjusted the strap of my duffel bag, straightened my back, and stepped into the common area.

It was bustling. Clint Barton was leaning against the counter with a cup of coffee. Wanda Maximoff was cross-legged on the couch, nose deep in a book. Sam Wilson was half-shouting something about a sparring session.

And then, there he was.

Leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, piercing blue eyes narrowed in a look that could melt steel. Bucky Barnes.

Bucky’s POV

I saw her before she even got off the elevator.

The new recruit—great. Another kid with a chip on their shoulder and something to prove. Fury had said she was talented, promising even. But Fury said a lot of things, and I wasn’t buying it.

Especially since she was Hydra-trained.

I crossed my arms tighter, keeping my mouth shut as the others greeted her. My stomach churned as I watched her, trying to read her body language. She stood tall, confident, but there was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. Good. She should be nervous.

“You’re the new girl, huh?” Sam said, clapping her on the shoulder like they were old friends.

“Yeah,” she replied, glancing my way for half a second before looking back at Sam. “I guess I am.”

Her voice was steady, but I caught the slight clench of her jaw. She knew who I was, knew what I thought about her being here.

“Welcome to the Tower,” Sam said, oblivious. “What’s your specialty?”

“Close combat,” she said. “And infiltration.”

“Great,” I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for her to hear. Her head snapped toward me, eyes narrowing.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” I said, pushing off the wall. “You’ve got ‘infiltration’ written all over you.”

Reader’s POV

It took every ounce of restraint not to throw my duffel bag at his head. He was testing me, pushing my buttons, and it was working.

“Okay,” Sam said, stepping between us with a strained smile. “Let’s just… ease into this. No need to kill each other yet.”

Yet.

The tension lingered, thick as smoke, as Bucky gave me one last icy look before brushing past me and disappearing down the hall.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

Bucky’s POV

The new girl—Y/N. Fury had mentioned her name in passing—was trouble. I didn’t need Steve’s optimism or Sam’s over-the-top friendliness clouding my judgment. People didn’t just walk away from Hydra clean.

I knew that better than anyone.

She was going to slip up. Eventually, she’d prove me right.

The problem was, part of me almost didn’t want her to.

Two Weeks Later

Reader’s POV

I’d managed to avoid Bucky for the first couple of weeks, which was harder than it should have been considering we lived under the same roof. But there was no avoiding him in the field.

Our first mission as a team had gone sideways fast. Hydra—not that it was surprising—had set up a trap, and now half the team was scattered in the woods outside the compound while Bucky and I were stuck together.

“Stay close,” Bucky barked, his voice sharp enough to cut through the chaos.

“I know how to stay alive,” I snapped back, dodging behind a tree as bullets tore through the air.

“Yeah, but for how long?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I slid my knife from its sheath, took a deep breath, and bolted toward the nearest Hydra soldier. The element of surprise worked in my favor. I took him down quickly and efficiently, just like I’d been trained.

But the second soldier saw me coming.

“Damn it,” I muttered, raising my blade, but before I could strike, a blur of black and silver tackled the guy to the ground.

Bucky.

He stood over the unconscious soldier, shaking his head. “You’re reckless.”

“I’m fine,” I bit out, wiping blood from my cheek.

“For now.”

“Why do you even care?”

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed my arm and pulled me behind him as more soldiers approached.

“Stay behind me,” he growled.

I wanted to argue, but something in his tone made me listen.

Bucky’s POV

She was going to get herself killed.

I didn’t trust her—not even a little—but I didn’t want her blood on my hands. She was brash, stubborn, and reckless, but she wasn’t incompetent. That’s what made it worse.

Because if she wasn’t Hydra anymore, if she really had turned her back on them, she didn’t deserve to die like this.

“Bucky, behind you!”

Her voice snapped me back to reality just in time to block the incoming blow. The Hydra soldier hit hard, but I hit harder. I turned and delivered a swift kick to his chest, sending him flying into a tree.

When I turned back to Y/N, she was watching me, something unreadable in her eyes.

“You okay?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

She nodded, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Good,” I muttered. “Let’s keep moving.”

Later

Reader’s POV

By the time we made it back to the jet, I was running on adrenaline and pure spite. Bucky hadn’t let up the entire mission, barking orders and criticizing every move I made.

But he’d also saved my life. Twice.

“You’re lucky I was there,” he said as the jet doors closed behind us.

I rounded on him, eyes blazing. “You’re lucky I didn’t stab you.”

Clint, sitting in the pilot’s seat, let out a low whistle. “This is gonna be fun.”

Bucky ignored him, his focus entirely on me. “You want to survive out there? Start listening to people who know what they’re doing.”

“I know what I’m doing,” I snapped.

“Do you?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re trying to get yourself killed.”

“Better than hiding behind everyone else.”

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he might actually yell. Instead, he turned and stormed toward the back of the jet.

Bucky’s POV

She was infuriating.

She didn’t know when to quit, when to listen, when to shut up. But damn it, she had fire.

I hated that I noticed it. Hated the way my heart skipped when she called me out, the way my mind replayed her voice when I was alone.

I hated the way she looked at me, like she was daring me to prove her wrong.

But most of all, I hated the thought of something happening to her.

Weeks Turn to Months

The missions kept coming, and so did the tension. Every time we worked together, sparks flew—anger, frustration, heat. But somewhere along the line, the edges softened.

It started small: a hesitant “good job” after a successful mission, a shared smirk when Tony made a particularly bad joke.

And then, one night, everything changed.

Reader’s POV

The training room was quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of fists hitting the punching bag. I’d come down to clear my head, but I wasn’t alone.

Bucky was there, shirtless and focused, his metal arm gleaming under the fluorescent lights.

I froze in the doorway, my heart doing something stupid in my chest.

“Gonna stand there all night?” he asked without looking up.

I scowled, stepping into the room. “Didn’t know you owned the place.”

He smirked, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. “You here to train or to sulk?”

“Both,” I admitted, grabbing a pair of gloves.

We worked in silence for a while, the air thick with unspoken tension. It wasn’t until I landed a particularly satisfying hit on the bag that he finally spoke

Part 2

[brooooswriting]

Reasons

Natasha Romanoff x reader (Angst to fluff)

Set after black widow movie, talk of the red room, torture etc.

A/n: I haven’t written for Nat in a while but this came up in my head and I couldn’t stop myself.

“I promise she's cheating on me” Natasha whined to Clint who sat on his bed, ice pack on his knees after a long mission. He was gone for about 2 months meaning that Nat couldn’t talk to him, so she kept her problems inside until he came back.

“Nat, she loves you. Why the hell would she cheat on you?” He asks groaning, you only ever had eyes for her. Even before your three years relationship, all you ever saw was Natasha.

And it was true, you loved her more than your own life. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for her, you would destroy yourself for her which is what you were doing at the moment.

You barely left your lab at the moment, constantly being locked up in there with your new lab assistant, Sarah. Tony hired her for you and the redhead hated her the moment she met her, she was trying to steal you from her and her suspicions confirmed when you locked away with her.

“I promise you it’s Sarah, she’s stealing my girlfriend. I bet they are doing it right now” by now she couldn’t even hold back her tears, they were streaming down her face wildly. Clint sat up and wrapped her up in a hug to calm her down.

“How about this, try to get her to talk tonight no matter how late and if she doesn’t wanna talk, if she’s ignoring it. Go to bed and end it in the morning” the archer said, his hand stroking her back while she nodded into the crook of his neck.

That night at 2 a.m you finally came back to your room. The day has been exhausting and you couldn’t wait to lay behind Nat and cuddle into her, you missed her terribly but everything you did, you did for her. What you didn’t expect was your girlfriend awake sitting in your bed with her upper body against the headrest. “What are you doing awake love? It’s late” you whispered as if you could wake somebody up as you got rid of your shoes.

“Yeah, it is late and you haven’t been back at dinner time again! Where were you?!” She hissed at you, the glare making you cower.

“In my lab, I’ve been working” you explained with a soft smile changing into your pjs to finally go to bed.

“I wonder with who. Let me guess Sarah was there too huh?” The moment she said your lab assistants name her voice was filled with venom. She’s always had a problem with the blonde and you never knew why.

“Yeah, that’s what she gets paid for. Can we not talk about this right now? I wanna sleep, with you in my arms” you mumbled as you move towards her, crawling under the blanket.

“Stay away! You don’t wanna talk about it, fine. You do not touch me” she gritted out, turning away from you. You sighed, you really wish you could tell her but you couldn’t. Not yet. So you turned towards her, not touching her. Just starting at her back as you fell asleep.

The next morning you were gone when she was awake so she got Clint and started packing her things. You weren’t gonna come back until late at night and until then she’d be gone. She’d move into Clint’s room until she figured out what else to do.

What she didn’t expect was for you to come back to your room at 9 a.m with flowers in hand. “Nat? What’s going on? Why are you packing your stuff?” You questioned, flowers still in hand when she glared at you.

“We are over. Go fuck with Sarah, I mean, y/n be honest. This is what you wanted! You cheat, you loose me. I’m doing what you didn’t have the balls for. I’m ending this. I hope you’re happy with her” she spit out, speed walking past you. You were about to follow her but Clint stood in your way, blocking your path.

“Clint, come on. I gotta follow her” you said, trying to push past him but he refused. “Barton, you know I wouldn’t cheat on her” you tried again but no luck.

“I thought the same but now? Now I want you to stay away from her” he said pushing you back a bit. You took that as a sign to leave, turning to go back to your lab, the flowers thrown on the floor.

You came back to the lab with tears streaming down your face, anger fuming inside of you. “Are you alright y/n? You didn’t wanna be back unt- oh, you’re crying” Sarah said, coming over with a tissue.

“I’m good, I-I’m managing. Natasha broke up with me” there was a moment of silence. While Sarah was desperately afraid of the redhead, she still thought the two of you were the cutest couple she knows.

“Do- do you wanna stop all this?” She asked carefully, gesturing towards your project. After a second of silence you spoke up again.

“No, no. This isn’t just for her. This can help thousand of others too. So let’s finish this alright? How long is this going to take? Half a day max. We made it too far to stop” you explained as you stood up.

After 7 hours 98% of the tests came back positive making you break out in tears again. Sarah gave you a smile and pulled you into a hug to comfort you. “You did it y/n/n” she cheered you on, her arms still around you.

“Y/- oh my god. So what Nat said was true?! You cheated on her? With the woman Tony paid for you?” Steve growled as he walked in on you and Sarah hugging causing you to abruptly pull back. It was amazing how fast words spread in this tower because from the moment Steve left after screaming it took about 15 minutes for a fuming Wanda to come down to your lab, eyes glowing red and Yelena behind her.

“You’re dead Y/n Y/l/n” the widows sister called out and you could already feel Wanda’s energy radiating around you. This was gonna be your end. No question.

“No, wait. Please. I promise on my life that I didn’t cheat” you whimpered out as you were lifted into the air. Sarah stood in shock as you were thrown against a wall. “Wanda! Come on. Take my hand, you can feel if I’m telling the truth” the two women looked at each other for a second before Yelena nodded at the witch. So she approached your form that was sitting on the ground, leaning on the wall you were thrown against.

She took another of your hands, a red glow started to engulf them as she gave you a nod. “I never cheated on Nat, never have never will” you said looking at the woman in front of you.

“She’s telling the truth” Wanda confirmed, pulling you up as your hands were still connected.

“But then what is all of this? Why did you pull away from her? Why’d you do this?” Yelena asked desperately, in her mind she could still hear Natasha cry.

“I can’t explain right now, give me two more hours. In two hours send Nat down here please” you looked at Yelena especially, knowing that she was the one who could convince her sister to do this.

“Why?” Was the only thing you were met with. You sighed, this was gonna be complicated.

“I can’t tell you Yelena, Tasha sees right through you. I can’t have that happen, not after I nearly destroyed our relationship because of it” you explained, tears welling up in your eyes at the thought of your shattered relationship.

“Then no can do” was the answer you received, making you groan. You should have guessed that this wasn’t gonna be easy.

“How about I tell Wanda and she can tell you if it’s worth it or now” after Yelena agreed you leaned forward and whispered into the witches ear, her heart melting at what you told her. Once her eyes were brimming with tears she pulled back and nodded to Yelena.

“She’ll be here in exactly two hours” were the last words the woman spoke before they disappeared.

“Well, now quick” Sarah laughed and you two started to work with full speed.

“You know I might have to fire you right? To save my relationship” you mumbled as you read through the latest updates F.R.I.D.A.Y ran for you, making small changes.

“I know and it’s alright. I’d do the same thing if I ever love someone as much as you love her. I mean I’d be happy if you don’t have to but I get it. Oh, and I ordered flowers, Champaign and chocolate for the two of you” she smiled as she read through some of the statistics.

“I hope so too but I’d do anything for her”

Two hours later the lights were dimmed, the champagne was in the fridge and chocolate on the side table. You were changed into a trouser and a top instead of an oversized shirt and joggers. Now you were just waiting for the love of your life.

“You better have a really good reason to have Yelena get me down here!” Her voice could be heard before she could be seen. Her eyes were a bit red, her voice a bit rough and her posture everything but relaxed.

“I do, I wanna tell you and show you what I’ve been doing down here. Because it definitely wasn’t cheating, love” she tensed up even more at the nickname making you cringe. It was a habit after two years.

“Don’t call me that” was the only answer you received.

“Okay. Im sorry. Do you remember our mission 8 months ago? After you ended the red room and one of our enemies decided to- you know?”

“Yeah”

Flashback

“And what do you think the world would say about all of this, huh? Black widow. What would they say about your graduation ritual and the training you went through? What would she say?” He pointed at you. Before either of you could do anything, something was attached to both of your heads and suddenly you saw everything through Natasha’s eyes.

“Nooo, please don’t. Please!! I promise this won’t distract me” young Natasha screamed and suddenly you felt a sharp pain at your left cheek. The man had slapped you hard enough to make your head turn.

“You will sit through this and you’ll remember this pain every damn time you disobey me or get distracted” the man said and suddenly you were strapped to an O.R. Table, your stomach was cut open with barely any medication making you scream in pain. Somewhere there you blacked out from the pain. When you woke up again there was a jar in front of you, everything they pulled out of you was in that jar.

“You’re now a widow. This will remind you that you are nothing more than that” was the last thing you remembered before Steve finally saved you.

To say that the two of you weren’t okay after that for a while wasn’t a surprise to anyone. You hung onto each other, mostly staying in your room always having some kind of physical contact. There was a lot of crying, a lot sleeping and a lot of mental pain. After a while things went back to normal.

“What about that?” She finally asked, shaking the memory of the mission off.

“After that I couldn’t stop thinking about it, about what they took from you, about through how much pain you went and how broken you looked when you told me that you can’t have kids. Something you’ve always wished for” you had planed the whole speech for about a month now but you were still nervous and the fact that Natasha was mad at you didn’t make it easier.

“So what? You called me down here to make me live through all that again?” She hissed and you had to hold an eye roll back.

“No, I didn’t. And you remember when we had to foster that 6 year old girl 5 months ago?”

“Yeah, Mia. We kept her for 3 weeks, she was cute” the redhead said, looking at her feet.

“No matter how many times you’ve told me that you didn’t need to have kids and that you were fine I couldn’t help but not believe you. I want you to be happy and I would do everything for you which is why I was down here. Constantly.” You explained further hoping that she’d look at you again.

“And you thought cheating on me would make me happy?” You took a second to take a deep breath before you stretched out your hand.

“I didn’t cheat. Please give me the benefit of the doubt and let me show you. Please, I’ve been working on this for months, for you.”

Your pleading tone was what made her give in and carefully take your hand as you pulled her along to oke of your microscopes, gently pushing her in front of you. She took that as a sign to look into it as you stood behind her, one hand on her waist. “What am I looking at?” She asked rather bored, not having any interest in the scientific stuff at the moment.

“Something that will involve into this” you told her as you pulled her further into your lab where she saw a hologram from an uterus. “This is a “

“I know what this is y/n” this time she rolled her eyes as she looked at the hologram.

“You kinda do, but not really. This is a uterus I made, it’s made from Stem cells and I can plant it into anybody, there it can keep growing to the point where it is a part of them and they’ll be able to have kids. I mean right now I specified it to the way the red room removed them but I could change that. This might not fix the world but I hope that it will help thousands of women who had to suffer like you did. And I hope it helps you” your voice was shaky at the end of your monologue. To some it may have seemed as if you were just out of breath but the redhead knew you better, she knew that it were your emotions that got a hold of you.

“Wh-What does that mean?” She asked, her voice trembling and her eyes glossy as one hand rested on her stomach. The spy was anything but stupid so you knew that she got what you said but she just didn’t wanna believe it.

“It means that after the treatment you can be a mother, Natasha and I just know that you’ll be the best mom ever”

Silence. That’s all there was for a long moment. The second you realized that she wasn’t going to say something about it you took the turn you hoped you wouldn’t need. “I mailed Bruce the instructions so he can do the treatment with you. The first few days after the treatment you might be very emotional, so make sure the team is there for you or your future partner. Every detail is in the files, they’re under your name, the code is your birthday. If you don’t want Bruce to do it with you I left a document with names of people who would do it with you” you told her as you tapped on one of the tablets.

“More”

“What?” You asked as you tried to piece her word together with that she meant.

“Show me More” you nodded and led her to another corner of your lab.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. open Natasha 3.1 alpha” you told the A.I who immediately started. A picture of a blonde woman showing on one of the screens, her stomach showing a small bump. “This is Alia, she was a widow too, she escaped just like you. She wanted to have child for a while, but they didn’t let her adopt. Not everybody could wipe the blood out is what they told her, so I told her that I could try this on her, she could be the first one. She’s 4 months pregnant now and the baby looks awesome” you told her, watching her as she stared at the screen.

“How’d you find her?” Natasha asked as she skipped through the pictures you had of the woman, stopping at the ultrasound. Her mouth slightly ajar.

“Your mother hooked me up once I told her about my project” you explained walking to stand behind her slightly to the left so you could look over her shoulder.

“You talk to my mother?” You could see her surprised look through the screen making you chuckle.

“Yeah, I talk to your whole family”

“Even though they make fun of your Russian and are extremely exhausting?” She asked, slightly turning her head.

“Well, they’re important to you so that meant that they’re important to me too. And I hoped for them to become my family too one day so” you explained giving her a small smile as you stepped back. “F.R.I.D.A.Y Next please” you said as Natasha turned around to you.

Suddenly the room got darker and soft music started to play, better said Nats favorite music making you freeze.

“Congratulations on finally telling her miss y/l/n. Here are your things” F.R.I.D.A.Y presented the champagne, the chocolate, the flowers and a small ring box making Natasha’s heart skip a beat.

“No, F.R.I.D.A.Y. wrong document” you rushed out but the damage was already done as you saw Nat focus on the box. “I’m so sorry, I’ll get this out of your way. I didn’t plan it like this. Shit” you rambled and kicked a carton that was on the ground out of pure frustration.

“Y-you wanted to marry me?” She mumbled as she watched your back while you tried to gather your thoughts.

“Want” was the only thing you said as you turned to see the redhead with the box in her hand. “I wanted to marry you immediately after that mission 8 months ago just to reassure you that I wasn’t leaving but I thought that that might have given the wrong impression. I was scared that you would have felt pressured to say yes”

“You did all of this for me?” She asked still trying to comprehend everything that happened. You gave her a timid nod, shoving your hands in your front pockets. “And you didn’t stop once I broke up with you?” This time you shook your head no, with a small smile. “I’m an idiot aren’t I?” She asked with a sad smile. You shrugged before shaking your head no.

“No, no matter how good my intentions were I neglected you and made you feel bad about yourself, something I promised to never do so it’s on me. But if you let me I’d like to make it up to you” you couldn’t comprehend the fact that the spy was running into your arms full speed until your ass met the ground with her on top of you. She grinned down at you before pressing her lips to yours. “I’m guessing that’s an I can?” She nodded before kissing you again.

Once you were back on your feet you could see all the avengers and Sarah standing at your door. “Ask her” Sarah mumbled but you quickly shook your head making her frown. “Do it now, or I’ll do it for you” she threatened making you flip her off before getting the box.

“I know this might not be the best moment and I actually planned all of this very very differently but that doesn’t change that you’re the love of my life and no matter if you want a family or not, I want you for the rest of my life. Natasha Alianovna Romanoff will you marry me?” You asked after you got down on one knee in front of her. Her mouth hung open as you opened the box, tears streaming from her eyes.

“Yes, yes” she mumbled over and over again as she knocked you on the ground again causing everybody to laugh.

With a big smile you slid the ring on her finger and holding her hand up for your audience to see who applauded. “I love you Natasha” you mumbled into the kiss you had shared.

“I love you too”

———————————————————————————

The next day Nat got her treatment, Wanda holding her hand while you worked as careful as you could. You two decided that you’d get married, than help some widows and then you’d get pregnant and you couldn’t wait. Tony was nice enough to sponsor the whole project, ‘your wedding gift’ as he said. That was also the first time Nat hugged him.

“There, we are all done love” you said as you discarded your gloves and walked up to her to press a soft kiss to her lips.

“This is the beginning of the rest of our lives” she smiled at you making you grin. You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life with this woman.

“I love you”

“I love you too”

“About Sarah…”

“You can keep her y/n, I get it I misinterpreted things” she grumbled as she cuddled into your arms making it clear that you were supposed to carry her upstairs.

You were already loving the clinginess that came with the treatment.

[tortillamastersblog]

➶A big misunderstanding - Part 2 | Kate Bishop➴

Pairing: Kate Bishop x reader

Warnings: minor injuries

Summary: Following your realization, you go to find Kate to talk about your feelings…

Part 1

________________________________________________

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” I say, “Please notify me as soon as Clint and Kate return from their mission.”

The A.I. acknowledges my request and I get to work at my desk, attempting to shrink the ever growing stack of mission reports.

The hours tick by without my notice and the next thing I know, I’m slumped over the desk, my cheek pressing into the keyboard of my laptop.

I snap up and rub my sore cheek, groaning at the sight of the document on my laptop. It’s now filled with random letters and symbols and I know it’ll take ages to delete all the gibberish.

“Y/N?”

I yelp at F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s disembodied voice, realizing that it was the A.I. that woke me from my semi-comfortable sleep.

“Yes?” I ask, my voice gruff from not using it.

“Mr. Barton and Ms. Bishop have returned.”

I check my watch and get to my feet. It’s four in the morning, three days after they left, so the mission must have taken longer than anticipated.

“Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y.,” I say, leaving my room in search of Kate. I know now might not be the best time to bring up my feelings, but if I don’t do it as soon as possible, I think I might actually explode.

The reports were a good distraction over the past couple days after my talk with Wanda, but now that Kate’s back I need to go find her.

I search the kitchen first, figuring she might be hungry after missing dinner but she’s not there.

Next I go to the locker rooms, but she isn’t there either, so she must already be in her room.

I walk there with trembling hands, not exactly sure how I’m going to initiate the conversation. Do I ask her about her feelings? Do I just straight up tell her about mine? Should I ask about the mission first?

When I get to her door, I notice it’s slightly ajar, allowing me a glimpse inside. She’s standing in front of the full length mirror mounted to the wall opposite her bed.

She’s dressed in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie and her hair is still damp from the shower she must have taken.

“Come onnn!” she grumbles, fumbling with something sticking to her finger.

I narrow my eyes and carefully push the door open to get a better look; it a butterfly closure strip.

Whenever she tries to unstick it from one of her fingers, it immediately sticks to another and with each passing second her frustration grows.

Her shoulders are tense and her nostrils are flared, but I don’t make my presence known until the strip folds in on itself, rendering it useless.

“Hey,” I say quietly, knocking on the doorframe.

Kate’s head snaps up and her eyes widen in surprise. “Y-Y/N… What are you doing? Why are you still up?”

All of my earlier worries fly out the window when I notice the cut on her temple and I move forward without thinking.

“Here, let me,” I say, grabbing a new butterfly strip from the opened package.

Kate watches, dumbfounded, and gulps when I brush a strand of hair behind her ear, away from the cut. It’s not particularly deep, but it will scar if it’s not taken care of properly.

“Didn’t anyone show you how to do this?” I ask with no hint of annoyance in my voice, getting to work on cleaning the wound with a sterile wipe which happened to lay beneath the butterfly strips on the dresser next to the mirror.

“Clint did… once,” Kate admits, looking up at me through her eyelashes while I work. I’m a little taller than her, which is something I only now realized because we’ve never actually stood this close to each other before. “But I forgot and I’ve been embarrassed to ask for help ever since.”

A wave of sympathy rushes over me and I pause for a moment to look her in the eyes and smile reassuringly. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. It’s better to ask for help than to suffer in silence,” I say without realizing how deep that sounded until it’s already too late.

Kate snorts softly and lets me continue working. It’s oddly intimate, however I can’t say I mind. It makes me feel weirdly fuzzy, knowing I can help her and that she’s, for once, not trying to run away from me.

Every once in a while she winces while I clean her cut and some smaller scrapes, but she doesn’t tell me to stop, so I keep going until everything’s been cleaned and the cut has been successfully closed.

“There you go,” I mumbled, tilting her chin to the side to get a better look at my work. “Much better.”

My eyes drift over her injuries and I’m quite satisfied with my work until I get distracted by her eyes. Those damn blue, captivating eyes.

She’s watching me intently and when I don’t make a move to create more space between us, she lets out a shaky breath.

“You haven’t answered my question yet,” she whispers, and I’m so lost in her that it takes a second for my brain to process what she just said.

“What question?” I ask, distracted by the way her eyes dart from my eyes to my lips and back.

“Why are you still up?” She breathes into the small space that is left between us.

“I—“

I waited for days for you to come home so I can ask you on a date? No…

I stayed up because I can’t stop thinking about you and just had to tell you how I feel? No!

I had to tell you I love you? No! What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N?! It’s way too early for that!

I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence when I’m suddenly pulled down by a hand grabbing the back of my neck, a pair of soft lips landing on my own.

I gasp in surprise but quickly sink into the feeling, my hands finding their way to Kate’s hips.

The kiss is short because Kate pulls back a second later to tease. “You think too much.”

I laugh in her face and brush my nose against hers. “You’re one to talk, Ms. smacks-me-in-the-face-with-a-spatula, Ms. knocks-over-a-bunch-of-bows-at-the-sight-of-my-abs, Ms—“

Kate groans and clamps her free hand over my mouth. “Alright, alright! You’ve made your point.”

I smirk and lick her hand on a whim, causing her to shriek and wipe her palm on my shoulder. “Ew! Don’t do that!”

“What do you mean, ew?! You were just kissing me!” I exclaim in mock offense, pulling her closer by her hips.

Kate huffs and tries to act annoyed, but grins eventually when she counter-argues. “That’s different!”

I wiggle my eyebrows playfully and nose forward so my lips are brushing over hers. “Is that so?”

Kate’s eyes flutter shut and her grip on the back of my neck tightens when she hums an affirmative. Then her lips are back on mine, but this time, the kiss deepens and before long we’re stumbling across the room until we fall onto her bed.

It’s anything but elegant and in the end her teeth clash against mine and we have to break apart to laugh.

“Sorry,” she chuckles, wiggling around on top of me.

I just smile at her and cup her cheek with one hand, the other still resting on her hip. “It’s okay.”

We stay like that for several moments, watching each other as our heart rates return back to normal. It’s peaceful and quiet, and one of the best moments of my life.

That is until a badly suppressed yawn overcomes Kate, reminding me of how late it is.

“You should get some rest.” I whisper, guiding her off me so I can get up and drape the comforter over her. “You must be exhausted.”

She doesn’t protest, so I quickly tuck her in and turn off the lights until the only source of light that is left is the tiny nightlight in the corner of the room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I say, bending down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead.

Kate’s nods and cups my cheeks, keeping me close so she can peck my lips softly. “Before you go…” she says, her thumb tracing over my bottom lip. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

Her eyes search mine in the dim light before she whispers, “Will you go on a date with me?”

I laugh quietly and turn my head to kiss the inside of her wrist. “I’d love to.”

“Good…” She blinks tiredly, obviously on the brink of falling asleep.

I take her hands off my face and squeeze them carefully. “Good night.”

“Good night, Y/N.”

I stay with her until I’m sure she’s drifted off before slipping out of the room, closing the door behind me as quietly as possible.

A smile creeps its way onto my face as I tiptoe back to my own room, and it stays there all the way until I fall asleep in my own bed.

________________________________________________

I hope this does the first part justice…

[winterzxsoldierz]

War Child

Part one

Bucky Barnes x (Fem) Reader

Avengers x (Fem) Reader

Warnings: Blood, mention of deaths, other creepy hydra shit, bad language words (lol) and a lot more other warnings, so be prepared.

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton (Sometimes) Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner (Sometimes) Thor Odison, Loki Laufeyson, Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Bucky Barnes, Yelena Belova, Arnim Zola,

Description: You're a hydra experiment or had been one since you were young, For years you lived within the cold walls of Siberia and when you finally get free, faces from the past and demons come out to haunt you Reader is an enchanted superhuman, she has the super soldier serum giving her, super speed, super strength, a healing factor, fast metabolism, endurance, strong lung capacity & etc, she also has both fire and ice magic. The time line in this will review the past and present. Reader can look anyway you want. Her soon love interest will be Bucky. Authors Note: Please know that none of these characters belong to me, they belong to marvel, Y/N is your character of choice. also your thoughts will be orange, Bucky's thoughts will be blue and the others will be purple

Avengers tower present 9:34 am Avengers pov

Gathered around table enjoying breakfast and conversation sits the avengers, everyone seems happy, Bucky and Loki bantering with one another about who can do bad better, Steve acting like a mom and Tony being the overgrown brat, Wanda, Natasha and Yelena talking quietly amongst each other in sokovian, then there's Peter, Pietro, Sam and Thor arguing about how many bad guys they can beat in a fight, like family they're fun and chaotic. Everything seemed to go quiet when the leather jacket wearing, eye patched man walks in with a file and flash drive, the atmosphere once relaxed and playful now tense and serious, as all eyes land on the director Nick Fury. "Hope i'm not souring the mood." he says his tone, dripping with his usual uncaring sarcasm. "Anyways." he continues, "We have a problem, a big one, a loose cannon hydra related one." He sets down the file on the middle of the table and Bucky is the first to grab it, the minute he opens it, the color from his face drains, there it was a whole section dedicated to you, a ghost is what you are, one he was made to train when he was The winter soldier, a deadly weapon is what you became, just like him, but unlike him, he was captured, but you, you were born and raised into a hell, and turned into something so deadly.

Steve looks at Bucky and raises a brow in concern and curiosity, Steve pauses debating whether he should say anything but he decides to anyway, "Hey Buck, you alright, you look a little pale." Bucky snaps out of his current thoughts and glances at Steve and the rest of the team and he swallows, a shaky sigh leaving his lips and he says "I know her, i knew her." Every member of the team gives each other looks before nodding and taking turns to look at the entire file and Sam speaks "So where do we start?"

Italy present

Your Pov I arrive back into my rented apartment, after getting some needed food and water, i knew my time here in Italy was running thin but there was something about this place i liked, i couldn't get comfortable though, it was only a matter of time before the devil came knocking. After heating up a simple tv dinner, i sit on the small couch in my living room watching the old school box television, it's on the news channel, the headlines read "Avengers strike once again saving over a hundred innocent civilians from a hostage situation with the terrorist group known as HYDRA." A sigh leaves me and i start eating as i change the channel to a cartoon, it wasn't one i've seen before, it was a blonde with really long hair and a pretty purple dress, now interested i continue to watch the movie and finish my dinner, soon i set my plate aside and just watch tv, i was enjoying the movie more than i'd like to admit. Berlin 1953 (Past & your nightmare) "Papa, i don't understand what you want me to do, you little voice trembles as you look up at the man in front of you, he stare you down and pats you head, his German accent thick as he speaks, "In time, you will learn to master the gift i have given you my child." a grin spreads on Zola's lips, to you it seemed innocent but only if you knew it was anything but innocent.

Your Pov (Present) I jolted awake in a slight sweat, my eyes dart around the room, weariness and confusion etched on my features, i thought i was back hom-there, but i'm in my living room, i'm in Italy, i swallow and wipe my forehead with the sleeve of my sweater and i stand up, my steps are silent on the wood floors as i walk into the kitchen, i fill me a glass of water and gulp it down as if i was a man stuck in the desert. my hands are shaky as i set the glass down and stare at the dark curtained covered windows. "He's gone, no longer here." i tell myself and i make my way to my bathroom, a shower was much needed to calm myself.

Berlin 1954 (Past & Bucky's nightmare) "Soldat! you're back with the stuff." Zola hums in approval and takes the metal case from the winter soldier, he snaps his fingers for the soldier to follow him and the soldier complies without question. Zola leads the soldier into the lab, for a moment the soldier tenses, he didn't think he had another procedure today but then his eyes falls onto you, a girl strapped down onto a table asleep, he blinks, he couldn't tell if it was worry, or surprise but he manages to school it like he was taught, the soldiers eyes follow Zola as he pulls out the bag of super serum, it was a cheap one, not to affective but it'll still work, just not like his, the soldier watches as Zola sticks it into an IV like bag and he watches as Zola stick the IV into you and slowly the serum makes it way to your skin and finally it slips into your blood stream making you jolt in pain and cry out.

Avengers tower (Present) Bucky's room Bucky's Pov His eyes snap open quickly and they dart around, checking for any signs of danger or anyone one at all, nothing it's all silent except for his racing heart and his own breathing, his brows are furrowed as he recalls the nightmare, that day, the day when Karpor made him bring that serum to Zola, that day where your life would change for ever and not for the good, a wave of guilt floods through Bucky as he thinks about that day, how he just watched, and stood there as that evil son of a bitch gave you that serum with no remorse as he hurt and changed you drastically. Bucky knew he had to find you, hell he knew you were lost and confused like he was and like he had steve, you'll have him.

Let me know what you think, i will definitely be making different parts to this story, i'm pausing my other story to work on this one since i had this longer and like this better. Part two is being worked on so stay tuned.

Tag list: @sapphirebarnes i know you wanted to be tagged in my other post but i'm keeping that on hold right now, so i hope you like this one just as much.

[tqlepatiia]

the space between us | b. barnes & c. barton

masterlist | pt.1

summary: y/n struggles to heal after ending her turbulent relationship with bucky. in her quest for solace, she finds unexpected comfort in clint, whose genuine connection helps her reclaim her joy. as she navigates the complexities of moving on, bucky grapples with his regrets and the consequences of his actions. amid moments of laughter, heartfelt conversations, and emotional confrontations, y/n learns to embrace a new chapter in her life, ultimately discovering that it's okay to love again. can bucky come to terms with his choices and accept the happiness y/n deserves?

pairing: bucky barnes x reader x clint barton

warnings: angst, emotional distress, heartbreak, complex relationship dynamics, confrontations, mentions of mental health struggles, potential triggers related to emotional abuse, strong language, and themes of self-discovery and healing.

notes: hi lovelies! here is part 2, as requested by @idontcareforausernamesblog! <33 i can’t even tell you how emotional this one was to write – i may or may not have cried while putting this together (okay, i totally did 🥲). i poured my heart into this, so i really hope you all enjoy it as much as i did! thank you all so much for your love and patience. you guys are the best, and i can't wait to hear what you think! 💌

word count: 18.5k

Weeks had slipped by since you walked away from Bucky, and the silence in the compound seemed heavier with each passing day. Every corner of the place was filled with memories of laughter, warmth, and moments you wished you could forget. Now, all that remained was the thick air of unresolved feelings and the ache in your chest whenever you caught a glimpse of him in the halls. You had made the decision to leave, to break free from the endless cycle of hurt and frustration, but that hadn’t freed you from the weight of the heartbreak.

You pushed through the door of the training room, and the familiar smell of sweat and metal greeted you. Once, this room had been a place of comfort—a shared sanctuary for you and Bucky, filled with playful banter and moments when the world seemed to disappear. But now, it felt like a space you had to reclaim for yourself.

Standing in the middle of the room, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, focusing on the way your muscles stretched as you prepared for the workout ahead. You had to stay present, focus on the strength you were trying to rebuild.

Hey, take a breath, doll. You’ve got this. I believe in you.

Bucky’s voice echoed in your mind, uninvited. His hands had once steadied you in this very room, his presence strong and reassuring.

You shook your head, trying to push the memory away. No. Not now. You couldn’t afford to get lost in the past again. But as you began to stretch, you could still feel that heaviness lingering in your chest. Why did everything with Bucky have to be so complicated? The lightness of being with Clint felt so different—like a breath of fresh air—but guilt washed over you at the thought of moving on so quickly. How could you enjoy this moment when Bucky was still reeling from the breakup?

The sound of the door opening broke the silence, and you turned to see Clint Barton walking in with his usual swagger. He was wearing a fitted black tank top and workout shorts, his smirk firmly in place as he spotted you. There was something about the way he carried himself, a lightness that seemed almost contagious, even when you were feeling your worst.

“Hey, look who finally decided to grace us with their presence!” he teased, though you noticed the slight hesitation in his voice. “You ready to get your butt handed to you today?”

You managed a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “More like I’m ready to kick your butt, Hawkeye.”

Clint chuckled, his smirk widening, but there was a brief flicker of something in his expression—an awareness, perhaps, that the teasing had to be balanced carefully. You could see he was trying to keep things light for you. “Big talk from someone who's fresh off a heartbreak courtesy of the Winter Soldier,” he quipped lightly, but his eyes softened immediately, watching for your reaction.

You let out a hollow laugh, not entirely sure if you found it funny or if it was just a defense mechanism. “Trust me, I’m ready to channel all of that into training.”

He nodded, respecting your space, and you squared up, hitting the pads with more force than necessary. The sound of your fists connecting with the pads echoed through the room, each punch a release of the pent-up frustration and pain that had been swirling inside you for weeks.

But even as you punched, the memories came back. You could see Bucky’s face, the way he looked at you during those quiet moments when it was just the two of you, when you believed that maybe everything would be okay.

His hands on yours, teaching you to throw a punch properly. His voice, low and soothing, telling you to relax.

Suddenly, you found yourself instinctively moving as if Bucky were right there beside you, guiding you through a complex maneuver. The memory hit hard, freezing you mid-punch, the muscle memory overwhelming. For a split second, everything blurred around you—the pads, the room, even Clint’s presence faded into the background.

“Y/N!” Clint’s voice broke through the fog, softer this time, and you blinked rapidly, coming back to the present. “Hey, focus up. You’ve got this. Just remember, it’s not a Hawkeye thing; it’s a you thing.”

You stumbled slightly, shaking your head as you regained your balance. “Right. Sorry,” you mumbled, the weight of that unspoken moment lingering between you.

“Just take a breath,” he said, his voice calm yet steady. “You’ve got this. Just find your rhythm. You’re doing great, I promise.”

With his reassurance, you continued to hit the pads, but the memory of Bucky’s touch lingered, a ghostly reminder of what you had lost. Each punch felt heavier now, laced with the weight of your heartache. You could almost feel the tightness in your throat, the sting behind your eyes, the tears you fought to hold back.

“Y/N!” Clint called out after a while, concern creeping into his voice. “You okay in there? Talk to me.”

You paused, chest heaving as you caught his eyes, the question lingering in the air between you. His worry was palpable, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet it fully. Instead, you swallowed hard and nodded, trying to shove down the emotions clawing their way to the surface. “Yeah,” you replied quickly, a little too quickly. “I'm fine. Let's just keep going.”

Clint gave you a skeptical look but didn't push. He nodded, stepping back to give you space as you squared up again, channeling everything into the next hit. This time, you weren’t just striking the pads—every punch felt like it was trying to break through something deeper.

The sound of your fists connecting with the pads echoed sharply in the room, each impact reverberating through your body, but doing little to quiet the storm inside you. As much as you wanted to stay in the present, your mind betrayed you, tugging you back into memories you'd been desperately avoiding.

Bucky's hand, steadying yours as you stood together, his voice low and teasing as he corrected your form. The way he looked at you like you were the only person in the room, the weight of his gaze grounding you in ways nothing else could.

You grit your teeth, hitting harder. It wasn’t fair—the way those memories clung to you, even after everything that had happened. The harder you tried to push them away, the more vivid they became, like a fog that thickened the more you struggled against it. Every punch felt like a futile attempt to exorcise his ghost from your heart.

“Look at you go!” Clint called out after a while, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “At this rate, you’ll be gunning for my job in no time. Might have to start watching my back, huh?”

You smirked, catching your breath. “You’re just saying that because you’re scared I’ll take your place, Hawkeye.”

Clint gasped dramatically, putting a hand over his heart. “Accuse me of treachery? I'm wounded.” But the playful look in his eyes quickly shifted to something more serious, his expression softening as he added, “But seriously—you're tougher than you think. I’m impressed.”

For a moment, his words sank in, and you felt a brief sense of pride warm your chest. But that warmth was fleeting, replaced by the all-too-familiar gnawing guilt that surfaced when your thoughts strayed too close to Bucky. You wanted to be strong. You wanted to believe Clint’s words. But a part of you still felt like you were breaking, piece by piece, under the weight of your past with him.

You slowed down, your punches growing weaker. “You’re slowing down,” Clint said, dropping the pads, stepping closer as your breath came in ragged gasps. “Hey, you alright?” he asked softly, his earlier lighthearted tone replaced with something deeper, something understanding.

You hesitated, your guard still up. “Yeah, just… tired,” you said, though you knew that wasn’t entirely true. The emotions bubbling just beneath the surface were harder to contain.

Clint didn’t push, but he also didn’t move away. He stood there, waiting, giving you the space to decide if you wanted to open up. And as the silence stretched between you, something in you shifted. Maybe it was the way he was just there, steady and unwavering, that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could let a little bit of the wall down.

“It’s hard,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “I thought leaving him would make it easier, but it hasn’t.”

As the words left your lips, a tightness gripped your throat, and you felt a sting in your eyes, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. Clint’s expression shifted to one of concern, and before you could stop him, he reached out to wipe away a tear that had escaped down your cheek.

You flinched slightly at the touch, the tenderness foreign after the chaos of your relationship with Bucky. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Clint’s hand dropped back to his side, his expression softening with understanding. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said gently. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s normal to feel this way.”

You looked down, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “It doesn’t feel like the right thing,” you whispered, the guilt gnawing at you again.

He stepped closer, resting a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, you're tougher than you give yourself credit for. It’s not gonna be easy, but you’ll get there. And don’t worry—I'm not going anywhere.” he said, sincerity lacing his words. In that moment, you realized that Clint’s presence felt like a refuge, a safe space where you could process your pain without the complexity that came with Bucky. You were seen and supported, free to be yourself as you navigated the emotions swirling inside you.

You felt a swell of gratitude for Clint in that moment, for his unwavering support and understanding. As the moment lingered, Clint reached over to grab a towel from the nearby bench, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed it to you. The brief contact sent an unexpected spark through you, and you looked up to see him watching you intently.

“Drink up, champ,” he said, bringing you a bottle of water next. “I’d hate to be the one who has to drag your unconscious ass around.” He held the bottle out with a playful grin, and as you took it, your fingers lingered for a moment, the connection both comforting and electric.

“Thanks, Clint. It means a lot to me,” you said, feeling the warmth of his kindness wrap around you like a comforting blanket.

After a moment, Clint jokingly flexed, striking a mock superhero pose. “How’s this for an emotional support system?” he quipped, his voice lightening the mood, but then he quickly pulled you into a side hug instead, wrapping his arm around your shoulders in a gesture that felt intimate yet effortless. 

You were caught off guard by the gesture but surprised at how comforting it felt. Clint’s warmth enveloped you, and for a moment, all the heaviness seemed to fade away. 

“I can’t wait to tell Bucky how weak you are,” you teased lightly, leaning into him, your heart feeling just a bit lighter.

“Hey! No one’s supposed to tell him about this!” Clint replied, mock-horrified, but you could see the glimmer of understanding in his eyes, the way he respected your process.

As you both stepped back, a small, quiet laugh escaped your lips, an unspoken understanding passing between you. There was a lightness that hadn’t been there before, a subtle shift in the atmosphere.

As you wrapped up your session, the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting golden rays through the windows of the training room. The way the light filtered through felt almost magical, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. It mirrored your emotional journey—where dark shadows of the past with Bucky began to fall away, replaced by the warm glow of hope and new beginnings. The suffocating atmosphere of the compound started to fade, replaced by the golden promise of something better.

With each passing moment, you felt the connection with Clint growing stronger.

“Same time tomorrow?” you asked, excitement bubbling up within you.

“Yeah, can’t wait,” he replied, matching your enthusiasm.

As you stepped out of the training room, you felt lighter than you had in weeks. Maybe moving on was not just about leaving Bucky behind but about embracing the friendships and connections that could flourish in their place.

Could it be that you were starting to feel something deeper for him?

The thought lingered as you shook your head slightly, trying to dismiss it, but it wouldn’t leave you. With Clint by your side, you felt a little more ready to face whatever came next. The potential for something new and beautiful was just beginning to blossom in your heart.

The training room buzzed with energy, sunlight streaming in through the high windows and illuminating the dust motes swirling lazily in the air. Over the past few weeks, you and Clint had settled into an easy rhythm; morning sessions had become the highlight of your day—an escape from the shadows that had lingered since your breakup with Bucky. There was something comforting in the routine, the laughter and sweat shared with Clint grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

But today felt different.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but a new energy crackled beneath the surface, a subtle charge that sent your heart racing as you warmed up. The anticipation buzzed just below your skin, and you found yourself glancing over at Clint more than usual, as if waiting for something—though you weren’t sure what.

Clint was already in the room, stretching and chatting casually with Natasha, who was overseeing the session. As you approached, Clint glanced over and shot you that familiar, easy grin. But this time, there was a warmth in his eyes that made your heart flutter—a mix of mischief and something deeper, something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“Ready to get your butt kicked today?” he called, raising his eyebrows in playful challenge, his grin widening.

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes with mock indignation. “Please, I’m pretty sure I kicked your butt yesterday.”

He laughed, the sound rich and unforced, but there was a softness behind it that sent a thrill through you. “Only because I let you.” His tone was teasing, yet there was a sincerity that sent a thrill through you.

Natasha, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, caught your eye just as Clint spoke. Her knowing smile widened, and her eyebrow arched slightly, a hint of mischief dancing in her gaze as she observed the exchange. You felt a heat rise to your cheeks under her watchful eye, and you quickly looked away, trying to focus on Clint instead.

“Just don’t break anything, okay?” Natasha smirked, her amusement clear. “We need you both in one piece for the next mission.”

Clint flashed her a cheeky smile. “Don’t worry, Nat, I’ve got this under control.” Then he turned back to you, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come on, Y/N, let’s see if you can back up that cocky attitude.”

You squared up against him, your body humming with adrenaline. “Bring it on,” you said, your voice steady, but beneath it all, your pulse raced.

The first few minutes were easy, familiar—the two of you moving in perfect sync, your bodies weaving in and out of each other’s reach. But as the sparring picked up, the playfulness began to fade, replaced by something sharper, something more visceral.

You feinted left and struck right, your fist connecting solidly with the pad Clint held. The impact sent a jolt of satisfaction through you, and Clint’s grin widened, a competitive glint flashing in his eyes. Yet as you ducked and weaved, your mind drifted to memories of Bucky—a stark reminder of how he once made you feel, how his presence had filled you with warmth and security. You could still recall the way he had looked at you, his gaze intense, as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world. His laughter, a soothing balm in the chaos of your life, and the way he would hold you after training, his warmth wrapping around you like a protective shield.

But just as that warmth felt distant, it was replaced by a new feeling—one that had crept in gradually since you started spending time with Clint. You couldn’t deny that he was beginning to make you feel something different, something lighter. Yet with every laugh shared, with every teasing remark that fell from his lips, a pang of guilt twisted in your stomach. Wasn’t this betrayal? Could you truly allow yourself to enjoy his presence when the echoes of Bucky still lingered in your heart?

That guilt grew heavier as you continued to spar, and just as the memory threatened to pull you under, Clint’s voice broke through the haze, grounding you in the present. “Hey,” he said, his tone softer now, concern etched on his face as he noticed the shift in your demeanor. “You okay?”

You blinked, pushing the memories away, forcing a smile that felt a little too strained. “Yeah, just… got distracted for a second.” Your heart raced, both from the recollection and the need to reassure him.

“Okay,” he replied, his gaze still searching yours, lingering with a hint of worry. But there was something more in his eyes—an unspoken longing that tugged at your heart, a reminder that Clint was starting to fall for someone who was still healing. “Just remember, I’m here for you. And if you need a bow and arrow, I’ve got you covered.”

The simplicity and sincerity of his words nearly overwhelmed you. A lump formed in your throat, and you struggled to hold back the rush of emotions that threatened to spill over. You hadn’t realized how much you needed to hear those words, how badly you needed someone to offer their unwavering support, to promise you wouldn’t have to face your struggles alone. It struck a chord deep within you, bringing a mixture of relief and vulnerability that left you momentarily speechless.

“Thank you,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I really appreciate that.”

Clint nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. “I mean it. You don’t have to go through this alone. Trust me, it’s way more fun with company—just ask Natasha about our last mission.”

As you continued to spar, the camaraderie and laughter returned, yet the undertones had shifted—an unspoken understanding lingering between you, blending the thrill of new beginnings with the weight of the past. With each interaction, there were subtle hints of Clint’s longing—how he lingered a moment too long after brushing past you, the way his gaze softened when you laughed, a silent acknowledgment of the connection growing between you. It was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Yet the emotional weight pressed down on you, the guilt that moved in tandem with the warmth you felt toward him. You were still healing, still piecing yourself together after the heartbreak, and the fear of moving on loomed over you like a dark cloud.

“Clint,” you said slowly, the words feeling heavy on your tongue. “I just… I don’t want to hurt you. You’re so… I don’t know how to explain it.”

His brow furrowed slightly, and he stepped closer, the concern in his gaze deepening. “What do you mean?”

You hesitated, the walls you’d built around your heart trembling under the weight of your admission. “I like being with you. You make me laugh, and I… I enjoy this, but I can’t help but feel like I’m betraying Bucky. Like every moment I spend here with you is a reminder that he’s gone, and I shouldn’t be moving on so fast.”

Clint’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, his presence steadying you as you spoke. “Y/N, you’re not betraying him. Moving on doesn’t mean forgetting. It just means you’re letting yourself heal.”

His words resonated with you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt the pressure in your chest ease ever so slightly. “I just don’t know how to let go. I miss him, and I feel guilty for feeling… anything for you.”

He nodded, understanding evident in his eyes. “It’s okay to feel both—what you had with Bucky and what’s starting here. You don’t have to choose right now.”

The warmth in his gaze made your heart swell, and you realized how desperately you needed to hear those words, how vulnerable you felt in this moment of honesty. “Thank you, Clint,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

As you resumed your sparring, the atmosphere shifted, filled with a blend of laughter and shared understanding. With every moment together, you felt the possibility of something new blossoming between you—a chance to reclaim your heart, even as the past lingered in the shadows. The guilt of moving forward loomed like a cloud, but with Clint by your side, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, it was okay to let yourself begin again.

The training session came to a close, both of you panting and grinning, the laughter still echoing in the air. As you gathered your things, the moment felt suspended, charged with the unspoken words that hovered between you.

Clint picked up his towel, tossing it over his shoulder as he stepped closer, and in that moment, your fingers brushed against each other—just a fleeting touch, but it sent a spark through you, igniting a warmth that spread through your chest.

You both paused, caught in the simplicity of that shared connection. His gaze held yours, the world around you fading away, and in that silence, the moment felt intimate, laden with promise.

Finally, Clint broke the tension with a soft smile, but it lingered in your mind long after he turned away, leaving you with an ache in your heart and a flutter of hope—a quiet promise of what could be.

The training facility hummed with energy, filled with the cacophony of grunts, laughter, and the occasional thud as bodies met pads or the mat. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and metal, the faint tang of iron lingering like a shadow over the vibrant activity. Bucky stood off to the side, leaning against the cool metal of the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest. He tried to focus on the training routines of the other Avengers, but as he locked eyes on the sparring match taking place in the center of the room, the surrounding sounds faded into a dull roar, almost as if he were submerged underwater.

You were there, your movements fluid and confident as you trained with Clint. The way you laughed, the sparkle in your eyes, and the ease with which you both interacted made something in Bucky’s chest twist painfully. The laughter felt like shards of glass, cutting into him as he stood there, paralyzed by his own thoughts. Another memory surged—the day he had held you close after a tough mission, whispering reassurances as you broke down in his arms. “I'm not going to let anything happen to you,” he had promised, the sincerity in his voice echoing in his mind. You had smiled through your tears, your trust in him palpable. How could he have let it come to this? How could he have broken that trust?

As you sparred with Clint, Bucky's jaw clenched involuntarily. He watched Clint’s hand brush against your arm as he guided you through a new technique, and a surge of frustration coursed through him, coiling tightly in his gut. Bucky's heart sank as he watched you and Clint share playful jabs, the way your laughter intertwined with his. It was the kind of easy banter he used to have with you, and now it felt like a dagger twisting in his heart.

In that moment, a flash of memory surged through him—the night you both had curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket as you watched a movie. The comfort of your head resting on his shoulder, the warmth of your body against his. You had looked up at him, eyes sparkling, and said, “I'm really glad you're in my life, Bucky. You make everything better.” The simplicity of that moment haunted him, a stark reminder of the connection they had shared and the way he had let it slip away. Each joyous laugh felt like an echo bouncing off the walls, magnifying his isolation in a space that had once felt like home. The ache inside him grew sharper, a rawness he couldn't shake, a constant reminder of what he had lost.

As you lunged at Clint, your movements were fluid and precise, catching him off guard with a swift kick that sent him stumbling back. The sight made Bucky's fists clench at his sides, his knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to storm over there and drag you back to him. It wasn't just the fun you were having; it was the way Clint looked at you—like you were the center of his universe. That was supposed to be him.

As the echo of your laughter faded, Bucky felt the weight of his decisions press heavily on his shoulders. Memories crashed over him like waves—every shared moment, every late-night conversation filled with warmth and hope, the way your smile could brighten his darkest days. Now, he felt like a ghost haunting the remnants of what they once shared, a mere spectator to the happiness he'd pushed away.

“Look at them,” Natasha said, her voice low as she joined him by the wall, arms crossed similarly. Her gaze was fixed on the two of you, and though she spoke, the words felt muted to Bucky, lost in the haze of his spiraling thoughts. “They’ve got a real connection, don’t they?”

“Yeah, it looks that way,” he replied, his voice tight, his jaw clenched even more. The world around him dimmed further, the laughter and shouts of the training session fading into a distant hum. All he could see was you, the light in your eyes brightening with each playful exchange, while shadows loomed over him, reminding him of his failures.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch?” Natasha asked, glancing sideways at him. “You know, if you want to talk to her—”

“Talk?” Bucky interrupted, his tone sharper than he intended. “What good would that do now? I pushed her away.” The weight of those words hung heavily in the air between them, and he felt a pang of shame wash over him. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, the metal of his bionic arm groaning slightly under the pressure, a physical manifestation of the regret that threatened to consume him.

“Look, Bucky,” Natasha said softly, her gaze penetrating. “You need to face what you did. You’re not the only one hurting.”

He exhaled heavily, frustration mixing with regret as he pushed off from the wall. “I know that, Nat. But what’s the point? She’s moving on. I can’t just waltz back in and act like everything is fine.”

“Maybe it’s not about waltzing back in,” Natasha countered, her voice firm but gentle. “Maybe it’s about acknowledging what went wrong and making it right. You can’t keep running from your feelings.”

Bucky watched as you and Clint exchanged another playful jab, your eyes sparkling with joy. That joy had been a rare sight during the last weeks of your relationship. All the arguments, the anger, the hurt—Bucky had convinced himself that pushing you away was for the best, that he was protecting you from himself. But now, seeing you smile, he couldn’t help but feel that he’d made a terrible mistake.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting memories flood back. The nights spent watching movies curled up on the couch, sharing popcorn and stolen kisses; the quiet mornings where you’d both linger in bed, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence; the way you’d laugh at his terrible jokes, lighting up even the darkest corners of his mind. Those moments felt like echoes of a life that was now slipping away from him, fading like the soft morning light.

He was alone. The thought echoed in his mind, drowning out everything else. His heart ached as memories flooded back—the warmth of your smile, the sound of your laughter, the comfort of your presence. Moments that now felt like distant dreams, lost in a haze of regret.

“Do you ever think about how you might’ve messed up?” Natasha asked, her tone shifting. “I get that you thought you were protecting her, but did you really think pushing her away was the answer?”

“Of course I do,” Bucky muttered bitterly, shaking his head. “I thought… I thought it was better this way. I thought she’d be safer without me.”

“Safer? Or happier?” Natasha challenged, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not some monster, Bucky. You deserve to be happy, too.”

He let out a heavy sigh, frustration and regret coiling tightly in his chest as he pushed off from the wall. “I get that, Nat. But what’s the use? She’s already moving on. I can’t just show up like nothing happened... like I’m not the guy who screwed it all up.”

“I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She still cares, even if she’s trying to move on. But you need to take that step,” Natasha urged, her voice cutting through his reverie. “Before it’s too late.”

The fight in her words ignited something within him, stirring a long-buried determination. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Maybe there was still hope. He took a deep breath, steeling himself against the fear that threatened to consume him.

“Okay,” he said, voice steadying. “I’ll talk to her.”

“Good,” Natasha replied, her smile returning. “Just be honest. It’s all you can do.”

With newfound determination coursing through him, he took a step toward you, a surge of hope igniting within him. But as he approached, doubt clawed at his insides. The laughter rang in his ears, and with each step forward, it felt as if an invisible force was pulling him back, reminding him of the pain he had caused. He hesitated, caught in the gravity of the moment, every step feeling heavier than the last.

He could almost reach out, touch your shoulder, feel the warmth radiating from you. But the closer he got, the more overwhelming the memories became. The arguments, the tears—each one a reminder of how he had pushed you away. His heart raced as he faltered, a sickening churn in his stomach.

Just a few more steps, he thought, but then he froze. The distance felt insurmountable, filled with all the unsaid words and the weight of his own mistakes. His chest tightened, and he swallowed hard, feeling the suffocating grip of uncertainty tighten around him.

As he stood there, the weight of regret crashing down, he felt the edges of a discarded photo under his foot—one of you both at a picnic, the sun illuminating your smiles. He didn’t need to look at it to remember the way you had leaned against him, a comfortable weight that felt like home. Watching the connection between you and Clint grow stronger, he felt the pain of realization wash over him. He had pushed you away, believing it was for the best, but now he was left standing alone, haunted by the choices he had made. The thought of losing you completely loomed over him like a dark cloud, threatening to swallow him whole.

“I can’t do this,” he muttered to himself, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. “Not now.”

With a final glance toward you and Clint, laughter still ringing in the air, Bucky turned away. The cool air hit him like a slap, stark against the emotional turmoil churning inside him. Each step felt like a retreat, a surrender to the pain that had become all too familiar.

As he walked away, he could almost feel Natasha’s disappointment echoing in his mind, a reminder of the support he had failed to embrace. He imagined her rallying the others, attempting to keep the team together in the face of his absence. But how could they be whole without him? Each one of them had their struggles, their scars, and he felt the weight of the burden he was leaving behind.

The thought twisted like a knife in his gut. It wasn’t just about him anymore; it was about the team, the friends he had fought alongside, the ones who had stood by him through thick and thin. They needed him, even if he felt like he was more of a liability than an asset right now.

A deep sense of dread settled over him. The consequences of his decision would echo beyond just his heart; they would ripple through the very fabric of the Avengers. Each step he took away from the training room felt like a step further from the family he had fought so hard to protect. The thought of them continuing to thrive, to train, to bond without him gnawed at him, a reminder of the fragility of connection.

As he stepped outside, the cool air brushed against his skin, but the chill within him ran deeper. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was not just leaving behind a relationship, but a part of himself. The determination he felt just moments ago was now shadowed by despair, and the hope he had clung to began to feel like a cruel illusion.

What if I never find my way back? he thought, feeling the burden of his choice weigh heavier than before.

Maybe some things were meant to be lost forever.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the compound as Y/N stepped outside. The late afternoon air was filled with the distant sounds of training—clanging metal, the rhythmic thud of feet against the ground, punctuated by laughter and the occasional shout of encouragement. But today, the ambiance felt heavier for her, the vibrant colors around her muted under the weight of her emotions. She found herself wandering to the garden, a peaceful escape from the chaos of her thoughts, the fragrant scent of blooming flowers wrapping around her like a comforting blanket.

As she strolled along the winding path lined with vibrant flowers, she caught sight of Natasha sitting on a bench, a sketchbook balanced on her lap. The faint sound of rustling leaves above accompanied the soft scratching of pencil against paper. Natasha’s eyes were focused, but she looked up as Y/N approached, a knowing smile spreading across her face.

“Hey,” Natasha greeted, setting the pencil down. “You look like you could use some company.”

Y/N nodded, her heart heavy with unspoken words. She shifted her weight, biting her lip as memories of Bucky flooded her mind—his laughter echoing in her ears, the warmth of his hand intertwined with hers. She could almost feel the sun on her face as they sat together at the lake, splashing water at each other, his laughter ringing like music. That day had felt endless, each moment dripping with joy, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he pulled her in for a playful kiss, whispering, “You know you’ll always be my favorite partner in crime.” But now those memories were tinged with pain, the ache of what they had lost haunting her every thought. “Yeah, I guess I could.” Her voice was soft, laced with uncertainty, as the once-bright flowers around her seemed to dull in color, mirroring her mood.

“Want to talk?” Natasha asked, her tone straightforward as she patted the space beside her on the bench. She opened her arms slightly, inviting Y/N into her embrace. “I can put the sketchbook away for a while if you need to vent. Just don’t expect me to draw you a superhero.”

Y/N chuckled lightly, recalling a time when Natasha had accidentally spilled paint all over her favorite outfit while trying to teach her how to paint. “Remember when you tried to teach me how to paint? And I ended up looking like a color palette instead?”

Natasha smirked, nudging Y/N’s shoulder. “I was trying to bring out your inner artist, not your inner disaster.”

“More like my inner disaster,” Y/N replied, shaking her head, a smile tugging at her lips. “But I still have that painting you made—it’s one of my favorites.”

“Only because I painted over the disaster,” Natasha teased, a playful glint in her eyes. “Now, enough reminiscing about your ‘artistic’ talents. What’s really on your mind?”

With a small sigh, Y/N sank down next to Natasha, feeling the warmth radiating from her friend and the sun’s rays on her skin. Natasha wrapped an arm around Y/N's shoulders, drawing her closer. Y/N inhaled deeply, the air fragrant with lavender and jasmine, familiar scents that reminded her of happier times with Bucky. But now they felt bittersweet, a cruel reminder of love tangled with loss. “It’s just… everything is so complicated right now.” The words felt heavy on her tongue, weighted down by the confusion swirling in her mind.

“Complicated how?” Natasha replied, tilting her head slightly, her curiosity piqued. Y/N could see the sunlight reflecting in Natasha’s eyes, illuminating her concern and drawing her into the moment.

Y/N hesitated, avoiding Natasha’s gaze, staring at the ground where the petals of the flowers seemed to wilt under the weight of her thoughts. “It’s Bucky. After everything, I thought moving on would be easier, but it’s just not. I feel guilty for even trying to be happy without him.” Her heart raced as she spoke, a mix of fear and longing. What if he needed her? What if he couldn’t find his way without her? But the reality of their situation hung over her like a dark cloud, suffocating and relentless.

“Listen,” Natasha said softly, leaning in, her grip tightening reassuringly on Y/N's shoulder. “You’re allowed to feel conflicted. You can care about Clint and still process what happened with Bucky. It doesn’t mean you didn’t love him, or that you’re moving on too fast.” The strength in Natasha’s voice offered a glimmer of hope, yet Y/N felt the shadows of guilt creeping back in.

Y/N leaned back against the bench, her shoulders tense as she stared up at the sky, now clouding over slightly. “I just want to feel happy again without all this guilt weighing me down. I want to enjoy my life and my relationships without constantly thinking about him.” But how could she? Bucky’s memory loomed over her like an uninvited guest, always there, always watching. The fun she had with Clint felt tainted, overshadowed by thoughts of Bucky—would he ever truly be gone from her heart?

“Y/N,” Natasha said gently, her expression growing serious. “I get it. There was someone I cared about once, too. Someone I didn’t think I could move on from. I was stuck in the past, thinking that letting go meant I didn’t care enough. But it doesn’t. The memories don’t disappear, and neither does what you felt.” Her voice was thick with emotion, and Y/N felt the sincerity in her words.

“What happened?” Y/N asked, her curiosity piqued, wanting to understand how Natasha had navigated her own pain.

Natasha took a deep breath, her gaze distant as she reflected on the past. “I lost him on a mission. For a while, it felt like I was carrying a ghost around. Took me meeting someone new to realize... it's okay to let it change. To honor what was, without letting it define everything after.” She paused, her voice steady but softer. “It wasn’t easy. Guilt can mess you up, make you think being happy again is wrong. But moving on doesn’t mean forgetting. It just means you’re healing.” Her words resonated deeply, and Y/N could see the wisdom in Natasha’s experience, the vulnerability that made her even more relatable.

Y/N took a deep breath, feeling a flicker of hope ignite within her. “But what if moving on means losing those memories forever? I can’t help but feel that by choosing to embrace something new with Clint, I’m erasing everything I had with Bucky.”

“Those memories are part of who you are,” Natasha assured her, squeezing Y/N's hand gently. “They’ll always be there, shaping you, reminding you of the love you shared. But you need to let that love evolve. It’s not about forgetting—it’s about honoring. And only you can decide how.” The warmth of Natasha’s touch grounded Y/N, reminding her that she didn’t have to face this alone.

Y/N bit her lip, her heart racing with conflicting emotions. “It just feels so overwhelming sometimes. I remember the sweet moments with Bucky, like that day at the lake when we laughed until we cried. His laughter was like music, and the way he kissed my forehead made me feel safe. I thought that feeling would last forever.” But now, even that memory felt like a dagger, reminding her of the distance that had crept between them.

“Those moments were real,” Natasha said gently. “They shaped you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t create new ones with Clint. Different doesn’t mean less meaningful. And it’s not betraying Bucky’s memory.” Natasha’s steady gaze and calm demeanor anchored Y/N, making her feel understood.

As they spoke, a figure approached the garden, and Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as she caught a glimpse of Clint. He paused at the entrance, watching them with a soft smile. The way his eyes sparkled made her stomach flutter, a warm anticipation blossoming in her chest. It was as if he could sense the shift in her emotions, the way her smile widened as she talked about the future.

Y/N turned her attention back to Natasha, her heart still racing at the sight of Clint. “You’re right. I’ve been so focused on what I lost that I haven’t thought about what I could gain. I can picture Clint and me going on a spontaneous road trip—just driving with no destination in mind, singing along to our favorite songs at the top of our lungs. I miss that carefree feeling.” Her voice began to brighten, a smile tugging at her lips as she imagined the adventure.

Clint stepped closer, curiosity etched on his face. He could hear snippets of their conversation, and a warm smile spread across his lips as he caught Y/N’s gaze. It felt as if he was a part of the moment, not just an observer. There was something about her smile that drew him in, igniting a flicker of hope in his chest.

“See?” Natasha smirked, her eyes glinting. “That doesn’t sound so bad. You deserve to enjoy those moments—without guilt. It’s okay to have hope again.”

Feeling lighter, Y/N smiled as she picked a flower from a nearby bush, twirling it in her fingers. “I think I’m ready to embrace that, to let go of the past and let it blossom into something new.” The flower felt vibrant and alive in her grasp, a symbol of her desire to grow and move forward.

“Good,” Natasha said, a hint of pride in her voice as she pulled Y/N into a brief but firm hug. “You’ve got this. And remember—you don’t have to do it alone.”

As they sat there together, Y/N felt the weight of her guilt begin to lift, the warmth of Natasha’s support wrapping around her like a protective shield. She glanced at the flowers surrounding them, their colors brightening under the sun, mirroring the lightness blossoming in her heart.

But just as her heart began to fill with hope, a fleeting moment of doubt whispered in her mind. What if she wasn’t ready? What if moving on hurt more than it healed? Yet, as she looked into Natasha’s eyes, she felt a flicker of determination ignite within her. Maybe healing was a process, a winding path filled with both joy and uncertainty, and that was okay.

“Hey, should we go see who’s losing in training?” Natasha asked, an impish smile dancing on her lips. “I’ll bet Clint’s probably tripped over his own feet again. I can’t wait to see him blame it on ‘tech issues.’”

Y/N laughed, a genuine sound that felt foreign yet freeing. “I’ll take that bet! But let’s not tell him I was rooting for him. He’ll never let me live it down.”

Clint, catching their laughter, couldn’t help but smile wider as he stepped closer, curiosity piqued. “You guys are plotting against me again, aren’t you?”

“Just discussing your amazing skills on the training floor,” Natasha replied, winking at Y/N.

“Ah, I see how it is. Just wait until I show you some new moves. You’ll be begging me for pointers—and then I might just consider it,” Clint teased, his eyes bright with mischief.

“Good luck with that,” Y/N shot back, her heart warming at the playful exchange. “I’m pretty sure I’d rather face a dozen missions than risk getting tangled in your ‘expert’ moves.”

“Smart choice!” Natasha laughed, nudging Y/N playfully as they stood up, brushing off the bits of dirt from the bench.

With renewed hope, Y/N took Natasha’s hand, feeling the warmth of their friendship radiate between them. Together, they would forge ahead, ready to find their own path filled with laughter, love, and endless possibilities. And as she glanced at Clint, feeling the way her heart fluttered, she couldn’t help but think that maybe this journey was just beginning.

The days melted into weeks, each one blending into the next like brush strokes on a canvas. With every sunrise, Y/N found herself stepping further away from the shadows of her past with Bucky. The initial pangs of guilt began to fade, replaced by a gentle warmth that blossomed each time she was with Clint. Yet, even in those moments of joy, a flicker of uncertainty lingered—thoughts of Bucky would occasionally creep in, reminding her of the pain and confusion she had felt. It was a peculiar sensation, like a fresh breeze sweeping through a room that had long been closed off, but also like a faint echo of an unresolved melody. She recalled how Bucky's unpredictability had taught her the importance of setting boundaries and prioritizing her own happiness, lessons she was slowly beginning to embrace.

On a particularly crisp afternoon, Y/N found herself in the common room, sunlight streaming through the expansive windows, casting golden rays across the furniture and warming her skin with its gentle touch. Outside, birds chirped cheerfully in the trees, their songs weaving a harmonious backdrop that made the atmosphere feel alive. The light danced on the floor, creating playful patterns that invited her in. Clint was sprawled on the couch, arms behind his head, looking utterly relaxed as he flipped through a comic book. The sound of pages turning filled the air, punctuated by the soft rustle of the paper and Clint's occasional chuckle. His easygoing demeanor was infectious, and she found herself smiling just at the sight of him, her heart fluttering as his laughter lit up the room.

“Hey, you,” Clint said, glancing up at her, his eyes brightening as a wide grin spread across his face, revealing that charming dimple. “Come check this out! They’re doing a crossover with all the Avengers—like we need more drama in our lives, right?” He waved the comic, excitement threading through his voice.

“Really?” she asked, intrigued. “What’s it about?”

“Some ridiculous time travel mess. You know how these things go. But honestly? It’s hilarious,” he replied, turning the comic toward her. Y/N crossed the room, plopping down beside him, the fabric of the couch cool and inviting beneath her. As she settled in, she brushed her shoulder against his, feeling the warmth of his skin, a tiny spark that sent a rush of warmth through her.

“Okay, but I think they totally got your character all wrong,” Clint teased, nudging her shoulder playfully. “I mean, seriously, Y/N would never wear those ridiculous spandex shorts from that one comic. Remember when you called them your ‘definitely-not-for-fighting’ shorts? Classic.”

Y/N laughed so hard she snorted, her eyes widening in mock horror. “Oh my god! Yes! That was traumatizing!” She tried to regain her composure, but the image of Clint in a ridiculous costume was too much. “And how you insisted on wearing that awful Hawaiian shirt during the mission? Talk about a fashion faux pas! What were you thinking? You looked like a tourist on a budget!”

Clint grinned, feigning indignation, his smile widening into a playful smirk. “That shirt was a classic! Plus, it totally distracted the bad guys. They were too busy laughing to notice us!”

“Right, because nothing says ‘serious superhero’ like a floral print!” she shot back, laughing as his eyes sparkled with mischief, making him beam even wider. As she leaned in closer to get a better look at the comic, their knees brushed against each other, and she felt a jolt of electricity at the contact.

“Admit it, you’re just jealous that you don’t have my sense of style,” Clint joked, his grin growing even more infectious.

“Oh please, I’d rather wear a potato sack than join you in that sartorial disaster,” she countered, rolling her eyes but unable to suppress her smile. “But if you keep wearing those shirts, I might just start a ‘Clint Barton Fashion Police’ page.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughed, shaking his head, his whole face lighting up with joy. “You’re just trying to get me to wear it again! Next time, I’ll have to add a matching visor for the full effect.”

“Please, just spare me the vision of you in a visor,” Y/N replied, wiping away a mock tear of laughter. “You’d scare all the villains away with that look alone.”

As their conversation flowed, light and easy, Y/N felt herself relaxing more and more, though the remnants of her past tugged at her. She enjoyed Clint’s company, his humor a welcome distraction, but with each shared joke, she was reminded of what she was trying to move past. The laughter was like a balm, soothing but not quite enough to erase the scars Bucky had left behind.

In a rare moment of quiet, Y/N found herself reflecting on how different she felt with Clint compared to her time with Bucky. With Clint, there was no tension, no weight of unresolved issues hanging in the air. Instead, she felt light and free, able to laugh without the fear of being hurt. Bucky had always been a tumultuous storm, full of passion but also chaos that often left her feeling unsettled. Clint, in contrast, was like a warm breeze on a sunny day—comforting and steady. It was this realization that made her smile deepen; there was something special about the way Clint made her feel, something that reminded her of the joy that life could bring.

“Okay, but seriously,” Clint said, his playful tone shifting slightly, as if sensing a change in the atmosphere. “If you could have any ice cream flavor, what would it be?”

Y/N chuckled, the levity returning to her voice. “I’d probably have to go with chocolate chip cookie dough. Classic.”

“Solid choice,” he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Though I’d argue mint chocolate chip is superior. What’s wrong with you, Y/N? Did you hit your head?”

“Now you’re just trying to start a debate!” she teased, pretending to think deeply. “But if you’re that passionate about it, I’m game! Just know I’m going to choose the most disgusting flavors imaginable!”

Clint leaned in closer, lowering his voice playfully. “I’ll be your personal happiness assistant. Laughter guaranteed! Just remember, if you pick any terrible flavors, I’m not responsible for the consequences.”

“Deal!” she laughed, her heart swelling with warmth. “But if you want me to choose first, you have to promise not to make a face when I pick something weird,” she replied, nudging him playfully.

“Only if you promise to at least try to keep it edible!” he shot back, grinning. “I still have nightmares about that time you thought pickle-flavored ice cream sounded good!”

Y/N burst into laughter, remembering the incident. “Okay, okay, I promise no pickles!” Y/N felt a bubble of excitement rise within her, the prospect of those silly plans igniting a spark of hope. “It’ll be a deal! Just think of all the crazy memories we could make together—like that time you nearly dropped your ice cream all over your face because you were trying to juggle it like a pro!”

Clint chuckled, shaking his head in mock embarrassment. “Hey, that was a strategic move! You just weren’t ready for my unparalleled talent.”

“Yeah, right,” Y/N said, rolling her eyes. “But seriously, you know I wouldn’t mind a little extra protection during our ice cream adventures. You never know when a rogue villain might swoop in and try to steal our dessert.”

“Don’t worry,” Clint replied, puffing out his chest dramatically. “I’ll fend off any bad guys trying to interrupt our ice cream dates! I’m basically a superhero with a spoon.” His mock seriousness made her laugh even more.

As they talked, Clint glanced at his ice cream, then turned to her with a playful grin. “You know what? You should definitely take the last bite of mine. I insist!” He held out the bowl, a cheeky smile on his face.

“Clint, you know I can’t just take your last bite!” she protested, giggling at his insistence.

“Too late! It’s already yours,” he said with mock authority, nudging her shoulder. “Besides, I can always get more. You’re the one who deserves the last scoop.” His gesture, so small yet meaningful, made her heart flutter.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his antics. “You really think I’m that special, huh? Just wait until you see my terrible choices! But I appreciate it, Clint. It means a lot.”

“Always,” he said, his expression softening as he listened intently. “You deserve to feel free and light. Life’s too short to be weighed down by all that baggage. And besides,” he added with a teasing smirk, “the world could use a little more of that laughter of yours.”

“Thanks, Clint,” she said softly, her heart full. “I’m really glad we’re doing this. It feels good to just sit here and laugh again.”

As they continued to talk about their dreams and plans, Y/N felt a warmth enveloping her, like a cozy blanket after a tumultuous journey. She paused to savor the simplicity of the moment, the laughter they shared lingering in her mind, a sweet melody that brightened the fading day. The soft rustle of leaves outside and the distant chirping of birds blended harmoniously with their conversation, creating a serene atmosphere that mirrored the deepening connection between them.

They laughed together, the moment feeling light and effortless, like a gentle breeze tousling their hair. Yet, even amid the joy, Y/N felt a flicker of hesitation. Memories of Bucky hovered at the edges of her thoughts, a reminder of the chaos he had once brought into her life, and she couldn’t shake the weight of those memories.

Yet here with Clint, she felt grounded, a warmth settling within her that she had thought was lost forever. There was something profoundly different about this connection, and it filled her with both hope and uncertainty. As the sun began to set, casting a soft glow across the room, Y/N found herself captivated by the depth of her feelings.

As the laughter faded into a comfortable stillness, they exchanged shy smiles, lingering looks that hinted at deeper feelings simmering beneath the surface, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them suspended in this moment of quiet intimacy.

“I can’t wait to see what else is in store for us,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper yet filled with sincerity.

“Neither can I,” Clint replied softly, his gaze unwavering, solidifying the connection they were building. “But hey, whatever it is, I promise you won’t have to face it alone. Just think of me as your personal archer sidekick.”

Y/N felt a surge of hope at his words, her heart swelling with warmth. Maybe this was the beginning of something beautiful—something worth pursuing. And as she glanced at Clint, she couldn't help but wonder what adventures lay ahead, each filled with laughter, warmth, and maybe a touch of romance.

The atmosphere in the compound was thick with an unshakeable tension as Y/N walked through the familiar hallways. The air felt cool against her skin, a chill that seeped into her bones, reminding her of the weight she carried. With each step, her boots echoed softly against the polished floor, amplifying the silence that surrounded her. Memories of Bucky flooded her mind—flashes of their shared moments, the warmth of his embrace, and the laughter that had once filled the air between them. But those memories now felt like a double-edged sword, cutting deep into the wounds that had yet to heal.

As she turned a corner, her heart raced at the prospect of crossing paths with Bucky. The faint hum of fluorescent lights above was the only sound, adding to the electric tension in the air. She had been avoiding him since the day she walked away, choosing instead to immerse herself in her new life with Clint, where each day felt a little brighter. With Clint, she found solace in their shared interests, the way they could joke about the absurdity of their lives, and how he made her smile effortlessly. They spent evenings watching movies, curled up on the couch, or training together, the playful banter weaving a bond she hadn’t thought possible after Bucky. But today, something felt different. The air was charged, almost electric, and she could sense the inevitable encounter lingering just out of reach.

Lost in her thoughts, Y/N barely registered the footsteps approaching until she was brought back to reality by a familiar voice. “Y/N.”

Her heart sank as she turned to face Bucky, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability that made her stomach twist. He stood a few feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket, the faint scent of worn fabric and cologne wafting toward her. His posture screamed both confidence and uncertainty, muscles tensed and jaw clenched. The sight of him sent a rush of emotions surging through her, and she fought to maintain her composure, acutely aware of the way her hands trembled slightly at her sides.

“Bucky,” she acknowledged, her voice steady despite the whirlwind inside her. But even as she spoke, she felt her heart racing, her breath hitching in her throat.

There was a heavy pause as they sized each other up, the silence stretching between them like an invisible thread. Bucky’s blue eyes searched hers, and for a moment, she felt the warmth that had always existed between them. But it was fleeting, quickly overshadowed by the reality of their fractured relationship. She noticed the way his brow furrowed, a muscle twitching in his jaw as if he were grappling with his own internal struggle. Then she saw it—a glimmer of unshed tears pooling in his eyes, a desperate attempt to mask his vulnerability.

“Can we talk?” Bucky asked, his tone serious but laced with an undercurrent of desperation. His shoulders shifted slightly, as if bracing himself for the impact of her response.

Y/N hesitated, torn between the desire to hear him out and the instinct to shield herself from further pain. Memories of happier times together flickered through her mind—Bucky laughing with her at the small things, the way his touch felt like home, and the day he gifted her a delicate silver bracelet, intricately designed with intertwined hearts. The bracelet had felt like a promise of forever, a tangible piece of their bond. Now, it lay heavy on her wrist, a reminder of the warmth and joy they had once shared, juxtaposed with the bitterness of their current situation.

After a long moment of silence, she nodded reluctantly, and they moved to a quieter corner of the compound, away from prying eyes. The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing on the walls as the weight of unspoken words hung in the air like smoke. The faint scent of coffee lingered, a reminder of long nights spent talking and laughing together. As they entered the space, a chill crept through the air, heightening the tension that wrapped around them. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit she recognized all too well, and she couldn’t help but notice how his hands shook slightly, betraying the calm facade he tried to maintain.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a long time,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t realize how much I was pushing you away until it was too late.”

Another pause settled over them, heavy with the weight of his confession. The silence felt charged, each second stretching into eternity as Y/N felt her heart racing. She could see the flicker of hope in his eyes, but doubt clawed at her insides. Would this conversation lead to the closure they both needed, or would it unravel everything she had worked so hard to rebuild?

Y/N felt her chest tighten at his words, the air heavy with unexpressed feelings. For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to reach out, to comfort him, but the memory of their last confrontation loomed over them like a dark cloud, reminding her of the pain that had driven her to this point. She crossed her arms tightly across her chest, the bracelet glinting in the low light, as if mocking her. “You shut me out, Bucky. I was right there, trying to help you, but every time I reached out, you pushed me away like I was some kind of burden,” she said, her voice wavering as she fought against the urge to cry.

He looked down, guilt washing over his features, and she noticed the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides, a futile attempt to regain control. “I was scared, Y/N. I didn’t want to drag you into my darkness. But I see now how wrong I was. I should’ve let you in.” Another silence stretched between them, suffocating in its intensity. Bucky’s voice broke the stillness again, but the words felt fragile, weighed down by their history. “I—I don’t want to lose you.”

Y/N hesitated, feeling the weight of his words crash over her. Could he really change? She recalled the way Clint had been there for her, offering support and kindness when Bucky had turned cold. It was a glimmer of hope that seemed so fragile, yet so necessary. “Bucky, it’s not that simple. I can’t keep going back to the way things were. I deserve more than that.” The thought of evenings spent cooking together with Clint, sharing dreams over a glass of wine, felt like a stark contrast to the lonely nights she had endured waiting for Bucky to let her in.

“Why?” Bucky asked, desperation creeping into his voice. “Why can’t we just try again?”

“Because I’m scared,” Y/N replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared that the Bucky I love—the one who laughs and makes me feel safe—will be overshadowed by the demons that haunt you. I can’t lose you again, not to that darkness.” The weight of her fears hung between them, heavy and suffocating. “I can’t keep waiting for you to change. I’ve started to find happiness again, and it’s with someone who sees me for who I am. I can’t lose that just to go back to what we had.”

The room felt like it was closing in around them, the air thick with tension. Bucky’s face fell, confusion and hurt etching deeper lines across his brow. “You’re seeing someone else?” His voice was barely above a whisper, the weight of disbelief heavy in the air. Y/N noticed how he seemed to physically deflate, shoulders slumping as if she had dealt him a physical blow. She could see the tears glistening in his eyes, and for a moment, she felt her heart fracture at the sight.

“It’s not like that,” she began, but the words caught in her throat. How could she explain to him that Clint had become a source of light in her life, filling the void Bucky had left? That being with Clint was helping her heal, even as it brought her guilt? “Clint has been there for me when you weren’t. I can’t keep pretending everything is okay when it’s not.”

“Clint,” he repeated, the name falling from his lips like a curse. “You’re telling me you’ve moved on? Found someone who makes you happy? And I—” He cut himself off, swallowing hard as he struggled to keep his composure, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. Another heavy silence enveloped them, each second stretching unbearably long as Y/N felt the weight of his gaze, the hurt behind it palpable.

“I pushed you away. I made you feel like you had to move on without me,” His voice broke, and Y/N felt her own heart fracture at the sound. Tears brimmed in his eyes, and she could see the struggle etched across his face, the internal conflict battling within him. It felt like a knife twisting in her gut as the reality of their situation settled between them, sharp and unyielding.

“I should have fought harder for you,” Bucky said, his voice raw with emotion. “I should have told you how much you meant to me instead of hiding behind my fears. What if I had let you in? What if I hadn’t pushed you away?” Each ‘what if’ echoed in the silence, amplifying the regret that hung between them like a thick fog.

Y/N felt tears welling in her eyes as she met his gaze. “What if I had been stronger? What if I had stood by you instead of running away? I wish I could have been the person you needed, but I felt so helpless watching you spiral. I didn’t know how to help you without losing myself in the process.”

Bucky’s breath hitched, and she could see the pain of regret mirrored in his eyes. “I’d do it all differently. I wouldn’t let my demons dictate our future. I wanted to believe we could have it all—together.” The sincerity in his voice struck a deep chord within her, but the scars of the past were still fresh, and doubt gnawed at her heart.

“I need to let you go,” she whispered, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. She felt the world tilt, the weight of the moment pressing against her. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing with the pain of loss, a stark reminder of everything they had shared and everything that had been lost.

Bucky’s eyes widened, and she could see the flicker of hope extinguished in an instant. “No, wait,” he implored, taking a step toward her, but she felt an invisible barrier keeping them apart, a chasm formed by their shared pain and regrets.

“Bucky, please,” she said, her voice breaking. “You have to understand—this isn’t just about you or me. It’s about healing, finding ourselves again. I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t be the reason you fall apart.”

His breath hitched, and she could see the struggle etched across his face. “But what if we faced our demons together? What if we stood side by side against all this?” He took another step forward, but the distance felt insurmountable.

“Together?” Y/N echoed, feeling a rush of conflicting emotions. “What if I can’t do that? What if I get lost in your darkness again?”

“I can’t lose you, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he reached out, but she sensed the chasm between them widening. The pain in his eyes was palpable, and for a moment, she faltered, wanting to reach out and comfort him, to tell him that everything would be okay.

But deep down, she knew that wasn’t the truth. Their journey had taken them to this crossroads, and while she wanted to cling to the hope of reconciliation, she also had to acknowledge the reality that lay ahead. They needed to heal, both of them, before they could even think about rebuilding what they once had.

As she turned to leave, the echo of her footsteps seemed to reverberate through the silence, each step a reminder of the distance that had grown between them. Behind her, Bucky stood frozen, the weight of her words settling heavily upon him. She could feel the loss hanging in the air like a fog, suffocating and thick.

Once outside, the cold wind hit her face, contrasting sharply with the warmth of the memories she carried. She fought against the tears that threatened to spill over, the ache in her heart like a storm brewing just beneath the surface. But as she walked away, she hesitated, feeling the pull to turn back, to run back into his arms and forget the pain that had driven them apart.

Maybe I made a mistake, she thought, feeling her heart break with each step. What if he really can change? What if we could find our way back? But she fought against the urge to look back, knowing that the pain of their past was too great. Instead, she took a deep breath, grounding herself in the cold air and the reality of her choice. She needed to prioritize her own healing, even if it meant leaving the one person she loved most behind.

Inside, Bucky felt a storm brewing of his own. He stood there, feeling the cracks in his heart widen as he replayed her words over and over in his mind. The warmth they had shared felt like a distant memory now, eclipsed by the painful reality of their situation. He wanted to scream, to rage against the unfairness of it all. Tears slipped down his cheeks, and he made no move to wipe them away, allowing his vulnerability to wash over him like a tidal wave.

He sank to the floor, the cool surface grounding him as he thought of all the moments he had taken for granted—how he had let her slip through his fingers while battling his own demons. The echoes of laughter, the secrets they shared, the time they had built a blanket fort, giggling like children as they reminisced about their favorite childhood memories, were now distant echoes of a life he might never reclaim.

He felt a flicker of hope—a desire to change, to confront his demons, even if it meant doing so alone. As he sat there, he realized that Y/N might be the catalyst he needed to finally face the truth about himself.

As the door closed behind her, he felt the weight of shared pain press upon him, an unspoken acknowledgment of their shattered connection. With a heavy heart, he whispered into the emptiness, “I just want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.”

Meanwhile, Y/N stepped out into the cool night, her heart pounding in her chest. She paused for a moment, her breath catching as she fought back tears. I wish things could have been different, Bucky, she thought, a deep sorrow settling in her bones. You deserve happiness, too. With that, she turned and walked away, each step feeling like a farewell, both hopeful and heartbreaking, leaving a trail of unresolved love in her wake.

The sun had already set, leaving the sky painted in shades of deep blue and purple as Y/N prepared for the evening ahead. She stood before the mirror, smoothing down her dress and trying to shake off the unease that lingered just beneath the surface. The night felt different—like a crossroads between her past with Bucky and the possibility of something new with Clint.

Clint had become her anchor in the weeks following her painful separation from Bucky, offering a lifeline of support wrapped in humor and light-hearted moments. But even though she was beginning to enjoy his company in a deeper way, guilt still tugged at her, reminding her of what she had with Bucky. Am I really ready for this? she wondered. Is it okay to move on?

The contrast between the past and the present was sharp. She could still recall the nights she and Bucky would sit together in the quiet of their shared moments, his warmth a constant comfort. Those memories lingered, refusing to fade. But the way Clint made her laugh and forget—if only for a while—was something she hadn’t realized she needed so desperately. Maybe I deserve to feel good again.

She inhaled deeply and headed out to meet Clint.

When Y/N arrived at their meeting spot, she found Clint leaning casually against his motorcycle, a playful grin already spreading across his face. “Damn, Y/N,” he said, his eyes sweeping over her, lingering just a second longer than usual. “Looking good! Did you dress up just to impress me, or do I just get lucky today?”

Y/N laughed, her nerves melting away a little under his warm gaze. How does he do that? she thought, admiring his effortless charm. “I could say the same about you,” she teased, taking note of his clean, effortless style. “You even wore a jacket that doesn’t have a tear in it this time.”

Clint grinned, stepping forward and offering his hand as she approached. His fingers brushed against hers, lingering there, and the warmth of his skin sent a subtle jolt through her. “I aim to impress,” he joked, pulling her in for a quick hug. The moment his arms wrapped around her, Y/N couldn’t help but notice how solid and grounding his touch felt. Before she could dwell on it, he gestured dramatically toward the bike. “Your chariot awaits, milady.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her smile. He’s ridiculous, but I kind of love that. “You and this motorcycle... what is it with guys and their bikes?”

“Oh, it’s not just the bike. It’s the freedom, the wind in your hair,” Clint said, imitating a dramatic, over-the-top voice. “You’ll understand when you hop on. Just try not to scream too loud, okay?”

Laughing, Y/N accepted the helmet he offered and climbed onto the bike behind him. She hesitated for a split second before placing her hands on his waist, feeling the warmth of his body through his jacket. This feels... natural, she realized, her fingers curling slightly as she held onto him. “Just try not to get us killed, okay?”

“No promises,” Clint said with a wink over his shoulder before revving the engine. “But if we survive, dinner’s on me!”

The ride through the city was exhilarating. The wind whipped past them, cool against Y/N’s cheeks, and she instinctively tightened her grip on Clint’s waist as they weaved through the streets. This feels good, she thought, the rush of adrenaline mingling with the comfort of being so close to him. She could feel his muscles tense and relax under her hands, the steady thrum of the engine beneath them only amplifying the intimacy of the moment. I didn’t realize how much I missed just feeling... alive.

She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sensation of the evening air on her skin, the scents of the city filling her senses—distant hints of food carts, freshly cut grass from nearby parks, and the cool, earthy smell of the coming night. It was all so vivid, so different from the numbness she had felt in the weeks after her breakup. Maybe I am ready for this. For something new.

As they reached the restaurant, Clint pulled up to a stop in front of a small, charming spot tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. It was one of those hidden gems that didn’t boast a flashy exterior, but the tantalizing aroma of roasted garlic, fresh herbs, and simmering sauces wafting out into the street promised something special.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Clint said as he helped her off the bike, his hands lingering a little longer on her waist than necessary. The heat from his palms seared through the thin fabric of her dress, and she found comfort in its warmth. “Because I’m starving, and we’re about to go all out tonight. No holding back. I’m thinking all-you-can-eat.”

Inside, the restaurant had a cozy, intimate vibe. Wooden tables with flickering candles created a warm glow, and the soft murmur of conversation and clinking cutlery filled the space. Y/N could immediately smell freshly baked bread and something sweet—perhaps a dessert cooling in the kitchen. The atmosphere was soothing, like a quiet oasis tucked away from the noise of the city.

I never would’ve come here on my own, she thought as she took in the ambiance. But being with Clint made her feel safe, like it was okay to let her guard down. I don’t have to be on edge all the time. Not with him.

As they sat down and scanned the menu, Clint’s eyes lit up mischievously. “Alright, here’s the deal,” he said, leaning across the table, his fingers lightly brushing against hers as he propped his chin up on his hand. The touch was so casual, yet it sent a spark through Y/N’s skin. “We each pick something totally random off the menu, and the other person has to try it. No backing out. It’ll be like culinary Russian roulette. What do you say?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, amused. “You’re trying to trick me into eating something weird, aren’t you?”

“Me? Never!” Clint said, holding his hands up innocently before breaking into a grin. “Alright, fine, maybe just a little. But seriously, where’s your sense of adventure?”

She pretended to think it over, tapping her chin dramatically. “Fine, but if you pick something absolutely disgusting, I get to embarrass you in front of everyone by making you dance in the middle of the street.”

Clint laughed, his hand nudging her playfully. The small touch was enough to make her heart race. “Deal! But trust me, I’ve got excellent taste. Just ask my mom—she still thinks I’m the coolest.”

As they placed their orders—Clint sneakily choosing something he wouldn’t reveal—Y/N couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. There was something easy and fun about being with Clint, a refreshing contrast to the complicated feelings she had been harboring for Bucky. It’s different with Clint. Lighter. Maybe I need that right now. It was moments like this—silly, light-hearted, and spontaneous—that made her realize how much she had been missing this kind of carefree connection.

When the food arrived, Clint dramatically unveiled his choice for her—a strange-looking appetizer that resembled tiny fried balls with an odd green sauce on the side. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What is that?”

“It’s a mystery,” Clint said, smirking. “But it’s supposed to be good. Go on, take a bite.”

She hesitated for a second, then bravely speared one with her fork, eyeing him warily before popping it into her mouth. Surprisingly, the taste was rich and savory, with a hint of tanginess from the sauce.

“Okay, not bad,” she admitted, trying to hide her impressed expression. “Your taste buds are safe... for now.”

Clint grinned triumphantly. “Told you! Now, it’s my turn.”

Y/N slyly handed over her selection—a bizarrely named dish that turned out to be a spicy concoction of flavors. She watched as Clint took a bite, his face going from curious to mildly alarmed as the spice hit him.

“Oh my god,” he coughed, reaching for his water. “You’re trying to kill me!”

Y/N laughed, leaning back in her chair, pleased with herself. In that moment, the world around them seemed to blur, and it was just the two of them—his laughter mingling with hers, filling the air with warmth. It felt so easy, so natural, like they were the only ones in the room.

As the meal progressed, Clint leaned in slightly, his expression turning more serious. “Hey, if you ever need help with anything, just let me know. I mean it. Even if it’s something trivial, like picking out a new dress or tackling a cooking disaster.” 

Y/N raised an eyebrow, touched. “You’d really help me pick out a dress?”

“Absolutely! I’d even give you my unfiltered opinion,” Clint said, grinning. “I’ll make sure you look stunning.” 

She couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Okay, deal. But only if you promise to not be too harsh.”

“I’ll try to hold back my brutally honest critiques,” he teased, but she could see the sincerity in his eyes. It made her heart swell a little more, reminding her how different this was from her past. 

As they continued their playful banter, Y/N found herself completely lost in Clint’s eyes, the way they sparkled with mischief and sincerity. Time faded away, and it was just them—two people sharing a moment of joy, laughter echoing softly around them. She felt weightless, lost in the magic of the evening.

When they finally finished eating, Clint suggested they take a stroll. The evening air was crisp, wrapping around them like a gentle embrace as they stepped outside. 

“Ready for round two?” Clint asked, his tone playful as he pulled out his jacket and offered it to her when the cool breeze brushed against her shoulders. “Can’t have you freezing on me out here.”

“Always,” she replied, smiling as she slipped into it. The jacket smelled like him—fresh, with a hint of cologne—and she found comfort in its warmth. 

They wandered through the streets, the lights twinkling like stars above them, laughter punctuating the air as they playfully debated what dessert to get. In that moment, Y/N felt something inside her shift, a blossoming hope for the future she hadn’t dared to imagine before.

Clint paused in front of a small ice cream shop, the bright neon sign flickering invitingly. “How about we try every flavor they have?” he proposed, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Y/N chuckled, unable to resist his enthusiasm. “You’re on.”

As they stepped inside, the world outside faded, enveloping them in a bubble of shared laughter and carefree joy. They decided to sample a few flavors together, joking about how they were both going to have brain freezes from the sugar overload.

“Okay, what about this one?” Clint held up a vibrant green cone, its color reminiscent of a cartoonish slime. “It’s avocado mint. Let’s see if it’s as weird as it sounds.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, her heart feeling lighter than it had in ages. “Why not? Let’s do it!”

As they took a bite, Y/N’s laughter bubbled over at the absurdity of it all, their faces morphing into comedic expressions of surprise. The taste was unexpectedly refreshing, and for a moment, they were just two friends indulging in the silliness of life, their earlier worries pushed aside.

“See? Delicious!” Clint declared, grinning. “Next round—chocolate covered bacon!” 

“Absolutely not!” she shot back, laughing at the idea. “That’s just cruel.”

As they stepped back outside, the cool air hit her cheeks, invigorating and fresh. Y/N glanced at Clint, a wave of warmth washing over her. For the first time in a long while, she felt like she was truly moving forward. Maybe this was what healing felt like—a gradual shedding of the past, replaced by the sweet possibility of new beginnings.

They continued their stroll, talking about everything and nothing, the laughter flowing freely. When the spontaneous dance moment arrived, she couldn’t help but sway to the music spilling out of a nearby bar, letting the beat move her as Clint joined in, twirling her around with a carefree smile. It was liberating to forget the heaviness of the past, even if just for a moment.

Their laughter echoed in the night air, and in that moment, the rest of the world melted away. She felt weightless, lost in the magic of the evening, every silly dance move reinforcing their connection. With each twirl, she felt herself falling further into this new reality—a reality that didn’t include Bucky’s shadow looming over her.

As they danced under the streetlights, surrounded by the shimmering glow of the city, Y/N felt alive—truly alive. 

When the song came to an end, Clint pulled her back toward him, their bodies moving in sync, and she caught the glint of mischief in his eyes. “See? Not so bad, right?”

“Okay, okay, you win,” she said breathlessly, their faces just inches apart. “This is actually fun.”

Clint pulled her closer, his arm wrapping around her waist as they both caught their breath. For a moment, neither of them said anything, their faces just inches apart, eyes locked. Y/N’s pulse quickened, her heart pounding against her ribs, not from the dancing but from the charged atmosphere between them. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips, the way his hand rested just above the small of her back, holding her close.

Is this it? she wondered, her heart racing. Is this where it all changes?

Clint’s expression softened, his thumb lightly brushing her cheek. “That’s what friends are for, right?” he said, though his tone held a note of something deeper. “To remind you there’s still good stuff out there. Fun stuff. New adventures waiting for us.”

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, Y/N felt like she could let go of the pain she’d been holding onto for so long. Clint was right—there was still good out there. Maybe it’s okay to lean into it.

But just as she was about to lean closer, a familiar tune floated through the air from a nearby bar—one that echoed with memories of evenings spent with Bucky, laughter shared under the stars, and moments that felt unbreakable. Her breath caught, and a flicker of panic surged through her, reminding her of the love she had lost.

Clint’s eyes flickered with concern as he noticed the change in her expression. “Hey,” he murmured, stepping closer and gently squeezing her hand. “What’s wrong?”

Do I tell him? The thought weighed heavily on her, the fear of opening up clawing at her heart. She hesitated, caught between the memories that haunted her and the promise of something new standing right in front of her. “I—”

But before she could finish, Clint’s other hand came up to cup her face, grounding her in the moment. His thumb brushed along her jawline, and the tenderness of his touch cut through the haze of confusion swirling in her mind. This is different, she thought. This feels safe.

Then, as if drawn by an unseen force, they both leaned in at the same time, their lips meeting softly. The kiss was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but quickly deepened into something more profound. The warmth of his mouth against hers ignited a spark, a jolt of electricity that coursed through her, shattering the barriers she had built around her heart.

In that instant, Y/N was flooded with emotions—warmth, joy, and an exhilarating sense of possibility. It was different from the kiss she’d shared with Bucky, lighter yet full of promise. For the first time in ages, she wasn’t thinking about the past or what she had lost; she was simply present, lost in the sweetness of the moment. This could be the beginning, she thought, allowing herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she could move on.

When they finally pulled away, breathless and slightly dazed, Y/N felt a warmth blossom in her chest. The world around them faded back in, but it was different now. She could still hear that haunting tune in the distance, but it felt more like a memory than a weight holding her back.

Clint’s smile was wide and genuine, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile back. “Wow,” he breathed, his eyes sparkling. “I think I like this adventure.”

Y/N chuckled, her heart swelling with warmth. “Yeah, me too,” she admitted, the joy of the evening spilling over in waves. As they walked hand in hand back to the motorcycle, she reflected on the night—the playful banter, the laughter, the shared food experiments, the silly dance in the street, and now the sweet kiss. It was a night that felt like a glimpse of a future she hadn’t dared to imagine before. One where she could move on, heal, and even laugh again.

Clint’s voice broke through her thoughts, filled with playful excitement. “So, what do you say? Next week, we go skydiving? Or maybe we sign up for a cooking class and see who can create the most disastrous dish?”

Y/N laughed, the idea filling her with a sense of adventure. “I don’t think I could handle the pressure of cooking with you. But I’m definitely down for skydiving!”

“Awesome! It’s a date,” Clint said, and the way he smiled at her made her heart flutter.

As Clint handed her his jacket once more, wrapping it around her shoulders to shield her from the cool night air, Y/N realized that maybe she was ready. Not just for a fresh start, but for the possibility of something more.

Later that evening, after returning to Avengers Tower, they found themselves in Clint’s room, the atmosphere was filled with a cozy warmth as they settled onto his bed, wrapped up in a blanket together. Clint had brought a movie—a classic rom-com that made her chuckle even before it started. 

As the film played, Y/N couldn’t help but lean her head against Clint’s shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. She took a moment to appreciate how easy it felt to be near him, the way his presence made her heart feel light. “I’m glad we did this,” she murmured, glancing up at him.

“Me too,” he said softly, turning to her with a warm smile. “I needed this. You’re way more fun than I anticipated. I might have to keep you around for the next mission.”

“Oh, so you’re saying I exceeded your expectations?” she teased, nudging him playfully.

“Definitely,” he shot back, a grin spreading across his face. “I mean, who else would try avocado mint ice cream with me?”

“Right? It’s a culinary adventure!” she exclaimed, laughing at the memory.

Suddenly, Clint turned serious, his expression softening. “Y/N, listen… you deserve all the good things in this world. If there’s anything I can do to help bring a little of that into your life, you know I’m in.”

His sincerity melted any lingering doubts in her heart. “Thank you, Clint. That means a lot.”

As the movie played on, they shared a dessert—an enormous slice of chocolate cake that Clint insisted they split. The indulgence quickly turned into a playful food fight, bits of frosting smeared on their faces as they both burst into fits of laughter, the lightness of their antics echoing through the room.

“Okay, that’s it! You’re going down!” Clint declared, grabbing a napkin and wiping it across her cheek, only to smear more frosting onto her nose.

Y/N retaliated, lunging for him and finding her hands covered in chocolate icing. “You asked for it!” she squealed, launching a dollop at him. Their laughter filled the room, the sound of joy echoing in the corners as they continued to playfully toss bits of cake at each other.

Wrapped up in a blanket, with remnants of frosting in their hair and laughter ringing in the air, Y/N felt an overwhelming wave of happiness crash over her. This was the kind of moment she had been yearning for—cozy, fun, and carefree.

As the credits rolled, Y/N turned to him, feeling a rush of affection and excitement. “So, we’re officially a thing now, right?” she asked playfully, her heart racing at the thought.

Clint’s smile widened, lighting up his entire face. “Oh, it’s definitely a thing—like a fun, silly, adventurous thing. You know, the best kind.”

“Good,” she said, the sweetness of the moment washing over her like a wave. “I can’t wait for our next adventure, partner.”

They settled back into the blanket, and as Y/N snuggled closer to Clint, she realized this was just the beginning. She had found a spark of happiness again, one that promised laughter, adventures, and the warmth of a heart slowly healing. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they fell into an easy conversation, filled with dreams of the future and the promise of more sweet moments to come.

The first light of dawn crept through the horizon, painting the sky in hues of soft pink and gold. The world was still waking up, the distant hum of city life beginning to stir—a car horn blaring, the faint chatter of early risers, and the soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze enveloping everything in a warm embrace. It was a time for new beginnings, a time to reflect, and for Y/N, it was a moment filled with fragile beauty that felt almost sacred.

The sunrise served as a vivid backdrop for their romantic connection, symbolizing hope and the promise of brighter days ahead. Clint had suggested a sunrise picnic, a sweet surprise he planned the night before. They gathered blankets and snacks, a cozy assortment that felt simple yet perfect against the backdrop of the awakening day. Now, as they sat together on the blanket spread across the grassy hilltop overlooking the city, the peaceful silence wrapped around them like a comforting cocoon.

Y/N watched as Clint poured two cups of coffee, the rich, earthy aroma rising in the cool morning air, mingling with the crisp scent of dew-kissed grass. The steam swirled up in delicate tendrils, dancing like wisps of clouds in the pale blue sky. As he handed her a cup, their fingers brushed against each other, sending a gentle spark through her. “Just how you like it—black and strong, like my sense of humor,” he said, his voice warm, and she felt her heart flutter at the familiarity.

“Thanks,” she replied, taking a sip and savoring the warmth that spread through her, grounding her in the present. “You really do know how to make the perfect cup of coffee.” She smiled, teasing him a little.

“Thanks, but don’t get too used to it. I might just decide to open my own coffee shop, and then I’ll charge you extra for my expertise,” Clint quipped, a mock-serious expression on his face.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You’d be terrible at it. I can already see you trying to convince customers that your way of making coffee is the only way, complete with charts and graphs.”

“Hey! I’d make a fantastic barista,” he shot back, crossing his arms dramatically. “I’m talking about a coffee that could knock your socks off. The kind that has you wide awake and ready to conquer the world—unless you think you can sneak the last bite of my food, of course.”

Y/N giggled as she leaned forward, their bodies instinctively leaning toward each other as she took a bite from the croissant he offered. “Okay, not bad,” she admitted, leaning back with a satisfied smile. “You might just be getting the hang of this.”

“Ha! Told you! Next up, I’ll make you the perfect breakfast sandwich,” Clint declared, puffing out his chest in mock pride. “But first, you have to promise not to laugh when I inevitably drop the egg again.”

“Deal!” she agreed, smirking, knowing full well the last time he attempted to cook eggs, it ended with them splattered across the kitchen floor. “But I can’t promise I won’t record it for future evidence.”

“You’re the worst,” he said, shaking his head but unable to hide his smile.

The two of them continued to enjoy their breakfast, occasionally feeding each other bites of croissant, the closeness of their bodies radiating warmth as they shared the blanket. Each lingering touch, whether it was a brush of hands or a nudge of shoulders, deepened the sweetness of their connection. The intimacy of the moment enveloped them, and Y/N felt a warmth blossoming in her chest, each shared laugh drawing them closer together.

Yet, amidst the laughter and warmth, the thought of Bucky lingered, a storm cloud threatening to overshadow her fragile happiness. As they shared a tender moment, basking in the warmth of the rising sun and the blossoming feelings between them, Y/N felt a shift in the atmosphere. She instinctively turned her head, sensing they weren’t alone anymore. In the distance, silhouetted against the backdrop of the dawn, she caught a glimpse of a familiar figure—Bucky.

He stood a distance away, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders hunched as he watched the scene unfold before him. The sharp intake of breath she took filled her lungs with the cool morning air, and her heart began to race, pounding against her ribcage like a caged bird desperate to escape. Had he seen her with Clint? What did he think? She had been so consumed with her own healing and the romantic relationship with Clint that she hadn’t considered the weight of what Bucky might feel as he watched her move on.

The shadows cast by Bucky stretched long and dark across the ground, a stark contrast to the vibrant sunrise that illuminated Y/N and Clint’s intimate moment. Those shadows whispered of unresolved pain and regret, memories of what had been and what could never be again. Bucky’s breath caught in his throat as he watched them, a sharp pain twisting in his chest. The laughter that flowed freely from Y/N and Clint felt like daggers, each one piercing through the shield he had tried to build around his heart. He could see the way they leaned into each other, the comfort and warmth they shared so effortlessly, and it twisted something deep inside him—a mix of longing, regret, and heartache.

He fought back tears, anger and sorrow battling for dominance as he watched her smile at Clint, a smile that used to belong to him. A memory flashed in his mind: the last time they had shared a moment like this, the last time he had held her close and whispered promises of forever into her hair. Now, it felt like a cruel joke, the universe laughing at his expense as he stood on the sidelines, a mere shadow of the love they had once shared.

Bucky’s hands clenched into fists in his pockets, his nails digging into his palms as he tried to hold back the emotion threatening to spill over. As he looked at Y/N, their eyes met, and for a brief moment, the world around them faded into silence. The intensity of their lingering gaze was filled with unspoken words—each look a reminder of what they once had and the deep-seated pain of their current reality. Her heart ached at the sight of him, the raw vulnerability in his eyes pulling at the remnants of the love they had shared. I miss you, it whispered in the silence, but she couldn’t voice it.

As she held his gaze, Y/N felt the gravity of their shared history weighing heavily between them. It was a tension that spoke of longing and regret, each glance filled with memories of laughter and warmth, now overshadowed by the bittersweet reality of their separation. She was caught in the moment, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her as Bucky’s expression shifted, his eyes reflecting the storm brewing in his heart. The depth of his feelings crashed over him like a wave, and he instinctively gripped his heart, as if to hold back the ache threatening to consume him. His breath came in shaky gasps, and he looked down, avoiding her gaze, the weight of his regret pressing heavily on his chest. What have I done? It echoed in his mind, a haunting realization that cut deeper than any wound.

Clint followed her gaze, sensing the shift in her demeanor. “Do you want me to—?”

“No,” she interrupted softly, shaking her head. She needed to face this on her own. It was time for closure, not just for Bucky but for herself as well. With a deep breath, she rose to her feet, her heart pounding as she walked toward him.

As she approached, the morning light illuminated the contours of Bucky’s face, revealing the shadows of regret etched into his features. He looked older, wearier, as if the burden of his actions weighed heavily upon him. When their eyes met, a flood of emotions surged through her—anger, hurt, but above all, a profound sense of sorrow for what they had lost.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with unspoken pain. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Yeah,” she replied, her heart racing as the words tumbled from her lips. It felt like a confession, a statement of truth that hung between them like a fragile thread. “I’ve been spending time with Clint. He’s been really good to me.”

Bucky flinched, his expression shifting as he struggled to contain the tumult of emotions swirling within him. “I can see that.”

The tension was palpable, the air heavy with unspoken words. Y/N took a deep breath, fighting back the urge to retreat. “Bucky, I want to talk. I think we need to.”

His gaze softened, but a flicker of vulnerability crossed his face as he shook his head. “I don’t want to make this harder for you. You’ve moved on, and I respect that. I just—” He paused, swallowing hard, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I didn’t realize how much I needed you until you were gone. It’s like I’m walking around without a part of me.”

Her heart cracked open at his admission, a rush of empathy washing over her. “I tried, Bucky. I tried to hold on, to make it work. But it was suffocating. You were pushing me away when all I wanted was to be there for you.”

He nodded, his expression pained as he looked away, unable to meet her gaze. “I know. I was afraid… afraid of losing you, and in trying to protect you, I only ended up pushing you further away.”

The ache in her chest intensified, tears pooling in her eyes as she grappled with the reality of their situation. “I loved you, Bucky. I still do in a way. But I couldn’t stay trapped in that cycle of pain. I had to choose myself.”

“I understand,” he said, his voice cracking as he finally met her gaze again. “You deserve to be happy, and I want that for you. I just… I didn’t expect it to hurt this much seeing you with someone else.”

Y/N felt the heat of her past rush over her, a whirlwind of memories that clashed against her resolve. It’s so hard to let go of the memories, of the love we once had. But I can’t deny what I have now. She couldn’t ignore the part of her that still longed for him, for the love they once shared. But she had a new life now, one where Clint stood beside her, his unwavering support grounding her.

“It hurts me too,” she admitted, her voice trembling as the tears spilled over, tracing warm trails down her cheeks. “But I need to move forward. I want to build a life that makes me happy—with Clint.”

Bucky’s expression crumbled, and in that moment, all the walls he had built around his heart came crashing down. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never wanted to hurt you or lose you. You mean more to me than I can say.”

The sorrow in his eyes mirrored her own, and she felt a swell of compassion rise within her. “Bucky, you didn’t lose me because you didn’t care. You lost me because you didn’t know how to let me in. I’m with Clint now, and it’s important to me that you know that.”

He swallowed hard, nodding slowly, as if her words were sinking in. “I don’t want to hold you back, but it’s so damn hard to see you happy with someone else. I keep replaying it in my mind—if I had just done things differently, maybe it would be us.”

“Bucky, you can’t keep punishing yourself for what happened. We both made mistakes,” she said, her voice steady despite the tears that continued to flow. “You need to forgive yourself to heal, just as I’m learning to forgive you.”

A moment of silence enveloped them, heavy with the weight of their shared history. Bucky’s shoulders trembled as he finally allowed himself to feel the depth of his emotions, the realization of what he had lost weighing heavily on his heart. “I wish things could have been different.”

“So do I,” she replied softly, feeling a profound sense of loss for the relationship they had shared. “But I can’t go back. I have to keep moving forward.”

His gaze dropped to the ground, a mixture of regret and resignation clouding his features. “I’ll always care about you, Y/N. You need to know that, even if things are different now.”

“I know,” she said, her heart aching for him. “And I’ll always care about you too. But we both need to find our own paths now.”

Bucky nodded slowly, the shadows in his expression deepening as he fought to reconcile the reality of her happiness with the ache of his own loss. “Then I won’t stand in your way anymore,” he said, voice heavy with resignation.

Y/N took a step back, feeling the distance between them grow, both physically and emotionally. The sun continued to rise, bathing the world in golden light, and she felt her heart hardening with resolve. I am finding it, Bucky. With Clint. The words hung in the air, their weight settling like a heavy fog around them. She felt a wave of determination wash over her, solidifying her decision to choose her own happiness. The scent of morning air filled her lungs, revitalizing her spirit. This is my moment.

Before she turned away, Y/N lingered for a moment, taking in the sight of Bucky—his familiar features etched with a sorrow that cut her deeply. Silence enveloped them, a bittersweet goodbye heavy in the air as they reflected on the memories they once shared. Each heartbeat echoed the time lost, the love that had slipped through their fingers like sand. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she knew that this moment would stay with her, a reminder of the love that had shaped her.

“Goodbye, Bucky,” she finally whispered, the words trembling on her lips. The farewell felt monumental, and as she spoke, the weight of their shared past hung heavily between them. She turned slowly, each step away from him feeling like a small fracture in her heart.

As she walked back toward Clint, she could feel his presence just behind her, ready to support her in whatever way she needed. She took a deep breath, the scent of morning air filling her lungs, revitalizing her spirit. This is my moment.

As she approached Clint, he looked up, concern etched on his face. “Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, his voice laced with worry, the protective instinct radiating from him like a shield.

“Yeah,” she said, forcing a smile through her tears. “I’m okay now.”

Clint stepped forward, pulling her into a warm embrace. She felt the safety of his arms wrap around her, the comfort of knowing she had made the right choice. He tucked another loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing softly against her skin as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her temple. In that moment, she allowed herself to lean into him, to feel the strength of his presence soothing the raw edges of her heart.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?” he murmured into her hair, his voice low and sincere. The words wrapped around her like a comforting blanket, and Y/N felt the weight of her resolve solidify within her. She was choosing happiness, and she wouldn’t let the past dictate her future any longer.

“Remember that time we tried to make pancakes?” she asked, a smile creeping onto her face as she recalled their hilarious failure in the kitchen.

Clint laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “How could I forget? We ended up with a pancake that looked like a map of the United States. I still think it was more of a work of art than breakfast.”

Y/N giggled, the sound ringing through the air like music, lifting the remnants of heaviness from her heart. “I think you just wanted to avoid cleaning up the kitchen afterward.”

“Guilty as charged,” he admitted with a playful grin. “But at least we made it fun, right?”

“Definitely,” she agreed, her heart swelling with affection for him. “We should try making pancakes again—this time, maybe without the ‘artistic interpretation.’”

“Deal,” Clint said, nudging her shoulder affectionately. “But if they end up looking like that map again, I’m holding you responsible. And let’s be honest—you’re definitely stealing the last bite anyway,” he teased, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Hey, it’s a strategic move! I have to make sure you don’t take it for yourself!” she shot back, feigning innocence.

Clint shook his head with a laugh, leaning in closer as he fed her a piece of the pastry with a playful grin. “Here, you have to try this next. It’s not burnt this time.”

As she took a bite, the sweet flavor melted in her mouth, and they shared a moment of playful arguing over who made the best breakfast. “Honestly, if we combine our skills, we might just be able to avoid another kitchen disaster,” she teased, winking at him.

“Or we could always order in,” Clint countered with a laugh, the lightness of the moment wrapping around them like a warm blanket.

Together, they watched the sun continue to rise, marking the beginning of a new chapter—a future filled with hope, healing, and the promise of love. Y/N held onto Clint tightly, their bodies leaning into each other as the warmth of the sun enveloped them, and the fire of new possibilities ignited in her heart. She was ready to embrace the light, ready to step into the dawn of a new day, no longer haunted by shadows of the past.

[natashaslesbian]

We Saved Each Other (Part Six)

Summary: Natasha is finally able to become your legal guardian, the problem is she wants to be more than that. She wants to be your mother

Word Count: 2.8k

Parings: (Kid!Reader x Mama!Natasha) (Kid!Reader x Barton Family) (Natasha x Clint) (Natasha x Fury)

Warnings/Content: some crying and some fluff

————

“Sign here please” Natasha swiped her pen over the dotted lines again “and last one just here” finally, she thought, this had taken much longer than she had hoped. “Congratulations” the blonde lady said, dressed head to toe in the smartest suit you had ever seen “you’re now y/n y/l/n’s official guardian” Mrs Williams said to Natasha as she moved her glasses from her nose to her head. The ex widow had now been a US citizen for 13 months, meaning she was finally able to become your legal guardian, meaning you would be staying with Natasha for a long time (you hoped it would be forever.) “yay” you called up from your chair, right next to Nat’s of course. She pulled you up onto her lap and held you close as Fury saw the older woman out. “Are you my mommy now?” You innocently asked “well not quite darling” Natasha said, causing you to frown “I’m your guardian which means it’s my job to look after you, but of course I will be your mommy as long as you want me to be” she explained “I wants you to be my mommy forever!” You beamed as you threw your arms around the redhead.

Natasha thought on what you had said for next week, wondering if she was really worthy of being a mother, being your mother. She thought about it throughout your many movie marathons, you were simply enchanted by the magic of classic Disney movies. She thought about it while you were cuddled together watching Mulan and long after you had fallen asleep watching Cinderella. “Mama” you called from Natasha’s lap, pulling her back to reality “the movie stopped” you whined “I think it’s finished y/n, are you ready for bed or do you wanna watch something else?” Your mom asked. You thought long and hard, a movie night could hardly be over after 2 films but you were oh so tired “finding nemo” you said through a yawn “again!” Nat feigned her exaggeration “we’ve already seen it 3 times this week!” You giggled as she mumbled her words into your tummy “it’s my favourite!” You laughed as you removed Natasha’s head and held it in your hands. She gently twisted towards your palm to leave a soft kiss “alright then baby, but after that it’s bedtime okay?” She said “ok mommy” you huffed.

Going to bed that night, Natasha continued to think about her role in your life. Each time you called her ‘mama’ the crack in her heart seemed to heal a little more. All those years of hurt had started to become distance memories rather than present thoughts that plagued her mind. You were rescuing her from herself without knowing it but a constant questioned remained; could she build a sustainable life with you? All the ex widow had ever known was killing and stealth, the real world was still so new to her too. Being a mother was a choice that was taken away from her and Natasha had accepted it so long ago, but now with you, everything had changed. Natasha couldn’t promise you a safe future, her list of enemies was too long to comprehend, she would always be a target. How could she live with herself if she were to put the same target on your back. But if there was one thing Natasha could promise you, it was love. It was that you would be loved so deep and true that you’d never forget it. She couldn’t replace your past or erase the memories, but she could build new ones. Filled with happiness and joy something she so desperately graved and something that you do desperately deserved.

The morning arrived before Natasha could even close her eyes and an exciting day laid ahead, the start of giving you memories filled with happiness and joy. “What if Cooper and Lila don’t like me?” You asked your mom, hiding behind the car door “oh y/n, how could anyone not like you!” Natasha said “I’m sure you’re gonna be the best of friends” she continued before taking a hold of your shaking hand. You joined Nat in knocking lightly on the wooden door, the large two story house looked so plain on the outside, but when the door opened a stream of colour and laughter caking roaring through. “Hey you two!” Clint said as he gave Nat a quick embrace “it’s good to see you y/n” you responded with your usual high-five “Laura” Clint called after rising to his height again “the girls are here” you stepped across a large welcome mat, signed with four handprints, and managed to take off your shoes with a little help from mommy. “Nat” said a soft voice from behind the corner. You watched as a tall beautiful brunette came into your vision “how are you my darling” she asked Natasha, who simply gave a nod “and this must be y/n” said the woman towards you. You moved behind Natasha slightly, using her frame to shield you. The two woman came down to your level “y/n this is Laura” Natasha said “she’s married to Clint and she’s one of my best friends” you looked between them both, trusting by Natasha’s eyes that Mrs Barton was safe “it’s wonderful to meet you sweetheart” Laura said as she held out her hand to you “hi” you whispered as you connected your palm to her own rather cautiously.

“Would you like to come and meet my children?” Laura asked as she held out her hand again. With a gentle nod and pat from Natasha you were lead further into the large cabin where you came into a room filled top to bottom with books art supplies and toys “y/n this is my son, Cooper” Laura said as she waved over her kids “and my daughter Lila” the pair said their hello’s and you politely waved back “Lila here is a few months older than you, I think you’ll get along very well, and Cooper is a great big brother, he’ll look after you both if you need anything” the older boy had already returned to his Lego set while Lila came to stand next to you “do you want to come see my new dollhouse” she asked. You looked back in search of Natasha and found her in the doorway with Laura “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me ok darling” she softly spoke “ok mama” you replied. Once the adults had dispersed Lila came right to your side “I didn’t know auntie Nat was your mommy!” She exclaimed “does that mean you’re my cousin? Mine and Coopers cousin?” Lila beamed “what’s a cousin?” You asked, you had never heard of one before and feared it was something awful to be known as “well it means we’re the best of friends, closer than bff’s can ever be!” Lila came to give you a big hug, and at first it took you by surprise, you didn’t allow physical contact with anyone other than Natasha. But Lila’s hug felt nice, you had never had a cousin before and felt excited that she would be your first.

After a few hours of play, Laura called you for dinner “but mommy I wanted to take y/n on the swings!” Lila huffed “maybe after dinner sweetheart, why don’t you show y/n to the dining room?” Laura suggested. The loss of your crafts and make believe games was soon forgotten as the smell of fresh bread seeped into your senses. “Here y/n, come sit next to me” Lila said as she pulled back a chair for you. You settled well considering Natasha’s chair was on your side. Dinner was going by smoothly until Lila’s curiosity got the better of her. “Auntie Nat?” She called passed you “if your Y/N’s mom, why have I never met her before if she’s the same age as me?” Lila innocently asked “well y/n and I haven’t known each other very long you see” Natasha said “what do you mean?” Lila replied “I’ve only been looking after y/n for a few months, since we first met” your mom said as she helped you grab another roasted potato “you only met each other months ago? So you aren’t y/n’s real mom then?” Lila meant no harm, she was just confused. But hearing her say that Natasha wasn’t really your mom hurt. “Well not biologically, which means we aren’t actually related, but I can still be her mom for as long as she wants me to be” Nat said, looking down at you with a smile at the end of her sentence. “But she’s not your actual daughter?” The little brunette asked again “Lila honey” Laura spoke up “do you want to come and help me with dessert?” She said in order to defuse the accidental tension.

You stayed quiet for the rest of the evening, opting to say you had a small tummy ache to avoid going out to the swings with Lila and Cooper. You sat contently with Natasha until it was finally time to leave “thank you so much for coming y/n it was so nice to meet you! We’ll have to sort out a play date for you and Lila hey?” Laura smiled as she helped you into your coat “thanks Laura” Natasha said taking hold of your hand and leading you back to the car. “Bye bye y/n!” Lila called from the doorframe, you managed a small wave back. Natasha hummed along to the radio the whole journey back, flashing you worried glances here and there. You still had your quiet moments and they usually meant that something was bothering you. “Y/n?” She softly asked to get your attention “are you ok sweetheart?” Her emerald eyed remained on you as she came to a red light. “Yes” you whispered, and Natasha knew you meant no but she didn’t ever like to push you to talk. “How about when we get home we have another movie night? I know those are your favourites” Natasha suggested “no thank you” you replied “why not darling? Don’t you wanna spend some time with mama?” Nat smiled at you as the car paused at a red light. “You’re not my mama” you whispered into the window. Natasha sat in shock, only remembering to move the car again when the driver behind gave a harsh hit on his horn “baby” she sighed as the car rolled forward again “that’s what Lila said” you mumbled into your closed fist. The widow understood now why you were so upset and the idea in her head was solidified.

“Are you sure about this?” Nick asked as he placed down the papers in front of him “I’ve never been more sure of anything Fury” Natasha said “and you feel you’ve adjusted enough to this…lifestyle?” The Director continued “I know there’s still a journey to be had, but with her by my side I know I can do it” the redhead spoke through shaky breaths “you know what this means don’t you?” Fury said “you wouldn’t be able to stay here, and we can’t support you outside of your work with us, you’ll be on your own” he sighed “no they won’t” Clint added “we’re converting our barn, the girls will live there and we will support them until they’re on their feet” he finished. “Ok, I’ll contact Mrs Williams first thing” Nick said. Natasha let out the breath she didn’t realise she had been holding “thank you” she whispered as Clint guided her out of the directors office. “Did you mean what you said?” Nat asked “about the barn, because you know we don’t have to I’m sure we can find somewhere” she began to trail off as Clint raised his hand to her shoulder “of course I meant it Natasha, Laura and I would love you to be our neighbours” he finished as he pulled his best friend into a warm hug.

You woke up with your back facing Natasha, just as you had fell asleep. You craved her embrace, to feel her warmth soak into your skin. But Lila’s words were on repeat in your head. The last few days had been tough on both you and Nat, the two of you not really spending much time together. You had wanted to give in so many times but feared she would reject you, as she wasn’t really your mom. You rubbed your tired eyes and reached for your water bottle, only to find it empty. All of your emotions came pouring out of you as another inconvenience was too much to take. You rolled over with tears in your eyes hoping to be met with Natasha’s green ones. But her side of the bed was cold, the duvet hanging at the bottom of the bed. You let out a loud sob, feeling all the weight of the world on your shoulders. You wanted to scream for your mommy but it didn’t feel right anymore. You shuffled down off the bed, grabbing your stuffy and running to the door. You made your way to the kitchen, where usually the smell of pancakes would’ve excited you. You saw a flash of red hair and sped to the legs attached. Natasha jumped, almost dropping the fresh strawberry she had just picked up from the bowl. “Hey angel” she cheerfully said, but her expression changed when she heard your small sobs “oh baby wasn’t wrong?” She asked. “I’m sorry” you sobbed “I’m sorry I don’t care what Lila says I just want you to be my mommy. Please will you still be my mommy I’m sorry” you clawed at Natasha’s trousers, wiping your stuffy nose on her knee “hey hey baby girl” Nat said as she crouched down to face you “you have nothing to be sorry for y/n, I’m still your mommy baby girl, I always will be for as long as you want me to be” she cooed as she wiped your falling tears “but it’s not real is it” you cried. “Sweetheart come here” Nat scooped you up into her arms and brought you to sit on the couch, taking a second to make sure everything in the kitchen was turned off.

Once settled into the redheads lap, you continued to pull at her shirt afraid she would disappear if you let go. “Y/n look at me” Natasha began “you know that what Lila said isn’t true, family isn’t always about blood and genetics. Family is in here” she said as she placed her hand over your heart “and no body can ever tell you what’s in your heart. Sometimes beautiful things can come from bad situations and people can connect in all different ways. You don’t need to be related to call someone family. You don’t need a piece of paper to call someone your daughter. But if that’s what you want y/n…” you looked up into Natasha’s eyes as she paused “I have a surprise for you, if you want it?” She asked “what is it?” You asked back, finally drying your eyes. “Would you like me to adopt you?” Nat whispered, afraid you had changed your mind. “Like be my proper mommy?” You mumbled “no baby, I’ll always be your proper mommy, but if I adopt you then the world will call us a family too, we can be together forever” Natasha smiled as you stared up at her, a glimmer of hope in both of your eyes. “Will you adopt me please mommy?” You asked “of course baby” Natasha giggled, pulling you into the tightest hug ever as she began to cry herself “I love you y/n” she cooed into your hairline “I love you too mommy”.

“Sign here please” Natasha swiped her pen over the dotted lines again “and last one just here” finally, she thought, this had taken much longer than she had hoped. “Congratulations” the blonde lady said, dressed head to toe in the smartest suit you had ever seen “Miss y/n Romanoff you are officially adopted by Natasha Romanoff” Mrs Williams said to Natasha as she moved her glasses from her nose to her head. The ex widow had now been a US citizen for 15 months, and she had finally become your mother, meaning you would be staying with Natasha forever. “yay” you called up from your chair, right next to mamas of course. She pulled you up onto her lap and held you close as Fury saw the older woman out. “Are we going to uncle Clint’s now?” You innocently asked “very soon darling” Natasha said, causing you to frown slightly “hey, I’m sure we’ll be there before you even know it. We’ll get all our things packed up and maybe go to the store and pick you out some things for your new room. And very soon you’ll be able to see your cousins as much as you want!” she explained “I can’t wait! I’m so happy you get to be my mommy forever!” You beamed as you threw your arms around the redhead.

————

A/N: This isn’t proof read so sorry if my dyslexic ass messed a few things up. Also I can’t seem to edit my masterlist atm so bear with while I try update it :))) -Star

————

Taglist<3

@saraaahsstuff / @dannipotatoo / @tobiaslut / @a-simpfortessa-lesbriean / @marvelnatasha12346 / @yelenasdiary / @mousetheorist / @ashadash0904

[hoppers-babygirl]

Forget It. Series

Finishing up part five and just wondering what you guys are looking for in the series! Who do you think should end up together? Any ideas and they may be included in the series!

[itsanerdlife]

Wicked Intentions 7

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Stark!Reader // (Seriously close) Steve Rogers x Reader // Clint Barton x Reader // T’Challa x Reader.

Warning: Violence. Language. Bullying. Girl Fights. Name Calling. Degrading Comments. Angst. Degrade of Woman (to a point). Criminal Life. Illegal Shit. Fights. Alpha Males. Stalking.

Characters: Peter Stark. Howie Stark. Bucky Barnes. Steve Rogers. Clint Barton. TC (T’Challa). Ben Reilly. Cledus Kasady (CK). Brock Rumlow. Gwen Stacy. Wanda Maximoff. Becca Barnes. Amore Lorelei. Kitty Pryde. Frank Castle. George Barnes. Joe Rogers. Winni Barnes. Pepper Stark. Wade Wilson. Eddie Brock. Warner Strucker. Barney Barton. Bobbi Morse. Pietro Maximoff. Logan.

A/N: This is a Bully Romance. High School setting. Mafia Family Life. Woman are on a lower level than males in their world. Just a heads up. This is the third installment of the series. Bad Intentions, Cruel Intentions, and Wicked Intentions.

Credit: Huge shout out to @ml7010 for all the help, pushing, hyping up, putting up with my changes midway through. If it wasn't for this peach, y'all never would have gotten this series or nearly as far as I am now.

She slams the car door, hitting ignore on her phone again.

Bucky calling again.

Thumbing out a text to my brother, without her seeing me. We look up as the door opens to the house. Pepper, Y/N’s mom steps out on the front steps.

“Miss?” She lifts a perfect strawberry blonde brow at us.

Y/N looks to me, glancing at her we look back at her mom. Pepper looks from her daughter to me. Snapping her eyes back to Y/N they have a secret mother daughter conversation with the look between them. She nods once.

“Come in. We’ll discuss.” She ushers us into the house.

Hurrying past Pepper, hot on Y/N heels. “Sorry Pepper.” Speaking in a small voice.

“What?” They both turn on me, the door closing behind us.

Looking between the two. “I knew, I was there when Eddie made the threat.” Sighing softly.

“Bec’s, why didn’t you tell me?” Y/N looks almost defeated, something I’d yet to witness from her. “And if you give me that bullshit about giving myself up for you, I’ll drop you like your brother, and mine.” She gives me a pointed look.

Running a free hand through my hair, I turn slowly.

“Because Y/N! Look at this, look at the scars on your body, look who died! Who my brother killed! For you! Look what your brothers, hell TC did for you!” Suddenly shouting at them.

Her head tips watching me.

“For you. For a queen. I’m just a wife, Y/N.” I whisper softly.

“Is that what you think of me?” Pepper asks, turning to look at her, I can’t find an answer to that. “I’m just a wife?” She wonders. “Silent, unworthy to kill for?”

“You’re a Stark.” I shrug.

“You will be too, Bec’s.” Y/N reminds me.

I scoff rolling my eyes. “Sure, right.” I nod.

“I’ll drag Howie through the streets if I have too.” She smirks at me. “I got a pretty badass girl gang.” She shrugs, flexing her power.

“If you think you’re not worth killing for, do you think it was a mistake for Y/N to stay and help you, when Brock attacked you girls?” Pepper wonders.

I gap at her for a moment. “I owe her my life for that.”

“Back at you, bitch. Don’t ever tell me you’re not worth killing for. I’d kill my own brother over you.” Y/N huffs, folding her arms over her chest.

“That’s the difference Y/N, I can’t allow you to be taken from my brother. I’d give myself up for the two of you.” I shrug.

“You ever say that again and I’ll make sure your jaw needs to be wired shut.” She points a finger at me. Pepper smirks at us.

“And you say you’re not a Stark.”

Y/N and I stare at each other for a moment before she grins at me. Something dark and dangerous, ruthless. Like the devil making an underhanded deal.

——

“Those your boys?” One of the guy’s points past him. Tony turns to find the boys climbing out of James’ car.

Peter’s corner of his mouth and jaw discolored and bruised. A cut in James’ cheek. They look concerned and defeated.

“George?!” He calls looking over at his partner in crime. James’ father looks up, finding the boys he starts moving towards them, Tony follows.

“What happened?” George asks instantly. The five of them glance at one another.

Tony looks between his own boys, to his future son in law. “Well, nobody took her, you’re all breathing, that would be there first mistake.” He smirks.

“Really? I would think taking Miss, would be the first mistake. Second leaving them alive.” George looks over at him chuckling.

“We fucked up.” Peter swallows, looking at him.

“How bad?” He asks his oldest.

“Bad.” James’ answers, watching his own father.

He looks to George, sighing. “Into the office.” He nods, together they turn heading into the warehouse.

--

Sitting in Tony’s office in the warehouse, his father hands him an ice pack, putting it to his cheek. Peter sits next to him holding one to his jaw.

“That looks like a Miss special.” His father chuckles, settling back on the edge of a table along one wall.

“Two for one.” Steve nods.

“What did you do to deserve it?” Tony wonders, looking at the five of us.

Clint clears his throat.

Steve stares at the wall.

Howie shifts uncomfortably.

Peter suddenly gone mute.

Both their fathers look to him.

“A few weeks ago, after putting CK down.” He picks his words slowly. “There was a threat.” He looks at Peter.

“Pete?” Tony looks at his son, worry flicking in his eyes.

“Not on smalls.” Peter mutters.

“On whom?” Tony sits up.

The word burns his tongue, like acid filling his mouth.

“Becca.” Clint swallows.

“What?!” Both their fathers jerk up, his father standing on his feet.

“Why are you just now telling us?” His dad demands.

He looks away. “We weren’t sure. It was a mild, cryptic comment.” He mutters, ashamed.

“I heard a threat was put out. But I never heard who it was towards. Honestly, I assumed it was you boys it would be on. Perhaps still revenge on my boys.” Tony admits. He had a fair point.

“You’re not far off dad.” Howie finally speaks up.

“Meaning what?”

Howie drags his hands down his face, leaning forward. He groans slowly straightening up again, leaning against the wall. “Eddie, the threat. It’s part revenge for us messing up his line.” Howie swallows hard. “He lost out to Smalls, dad. You weren’t even taking bids on her, those putting them in you didn’t even hear them out.” He can’t help but smirk slightly, glancing at Steve and Clint, who smirk back. “But we fucked up. We’re the biggest players in the game at this point.” Howie struggles.

“We’re untouchable. Smalls is lethal, she’s got her own mafia going.” Peter speaks up. “Look at all we’re connected too. How many pots we have hands in.” Peter shrugs, Tony and his dad look at one another. “Look how connected we are with other powerful families.” Peter glances around the room. He drops his head, knowing. “We keep it in our families, sisters marrying friends, partners. Eddie realized what we have going. Instead of killing us, he wants to take from us. Crippling one of us,”

“Cripples all of us.” His dad swallows.

“He commented on Bec’s said she was cute. Said we all have weaknesses in common now.” Howie spits.

“He showed up in the school parking lot today. With me and Chaos.” He admits.

“Fuck.” The room breathes.

Nodding slowly. “He said I made a crazier deal with CK, so he wants a deal. Y/N for Bec’s.” The room erupts.

-------- Everything Peaches 12/8/22 @mo320 @ml7010 @kmc1989 @joannie95 @coley0823 @rileyloves5 @sexyvixen7 @duckestylez @abschaffer2 @drayshadow @shirukitsune @xoxabs88xox @carostar2020 @rosalynshields @hookslove1592 @royal-sunflower @iwillbeinmynest @bellamy-barnes @geeksareunique @happydeanpotter @fanfic-n-tabulous @steel-blue-eyess @mariekoukie6661 @bless-my-demons @notyourtypicalrose @lets-talk-about-xyz @loving-life-my-way @shinycupcakebaker @also-fangirlinsweden @stupendous-science @daughterofthenight117 @dandelionsmarkthegrave @physically-a-cheesecake @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked

Bucky 'Fuck Me Up' Barnes: @nickyl316h @jbbarnesgirl @lets-roggerthat @this-is-mycrisis @kaylaphantomhive

Series tags: @sebastians-love @otterlycanadian

[ironstrange1991]

Human

Pairing: Defender!Strange x PregnantWife!Reader

Synopsis: Stephen is not acting like himself when he returns from a very hard mission.

Word Count: 1,6k

Warnings: None. Basically the hurt/comfort trope.

A/N: I needed a fic with Stephen being vulnerable and soft and ended up with this. Hope you guys like it.

You liked to think you knew Stephen as well as you knew yourself. You knew when he was happy or sad, when he was tired or excited without him having to say a word to you. And it was exactly Stephen's inability to talk about his feelings that made you get into the habit of reading him so well.

You had been together for a few years, married and expecting your first child and as the weeks progressed and you approached the end of the pregnancy you noticed that Stephen began to become more restless, worried. Work didn't help. In fact, for the past three months work had taken up most of Stephen's time and you believed that was one of the reasons he was so restless. He blamed himself for not spending as much time as he wanted with you.

It was Friday night and you were finishing dinner when Stephen and his Defender friends left the meeting room after being there for hours. They had arrived from a mission that afternoon and locked themselves in that room without you even having time to say hi to your husband.

Hearing the familiar chattering in the entrance hall you went to them in time to say goodbye to Jessica Jones and Clint Barton.

"My god, Y/n you look gorgeous. When will the baby arrive?" Jones asked smiling and trying to look like everything was fine, but you could see from the expressions on Barton and Stephen's faces that something was wrong. Sometimes it happened. Something would go wrong with their missions, and they would return home with those tired and sad faces.

You smiled wrapping your arms around Stephen’s waist. "Later this month. We can't wait." You said glancing at Stephen, but he was serious and just nodded without adding any comment.

When Jones and Barton said goodbye and you were finally alone with your husband you took the time to actually look at him. He was well enough. Some cuts on his face as usual, but what was worrying you was not his physical condition. He seemed tired, yes, but something was off, he was different.

"Are you okay?" You asked a little unsure.

He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead avoiding your question. "I am going to take a shower." He said pulling away.

"Dinner is ready. I can help you shower..."

"That won't be necessary, baby. I'm sorry, I should have warned you. I'm not hungry. I'm going straight to bed."

You stood there watching him walk away and go up the stairs. You weren't upset because he wouldn't eat, but rather worried about his behavior. Stephen never refused your help when he arrived on a mission. Most of the time he asked you to help him, always eager to have his wife's hands on him.

It was safe to say that by now you had also lost your hunger, so you put all the food in the fridge and went upstairs to find Stephen already in bed, his back resting in a pile of pillows, wearing his reading glasses - which he almost never did in your presence - reading a huge book of spells that he had probably brought with him from Kamar Taj. You sighed, still standing in the doorway and then decided to enter and closed the door behind you.

You went to the bathroom and brushed your teeth and changed out of your clothes into some comfortable pajamas and then went back to the bedroom, but instead of lying down on your side of the bed you stood next to Stephen and held out your hand. "Give me the book. Now is not the time to work. You just arrived and I need to talk to my husband."

He stared at you over his reading glasses and you had to hold yourself back to keep a straight face. He looked so cute when he wore glasses. "I need to find a specific spell..."

"I didn't ask what you needed to do, Stephen. Give me the book."

He sighed, closing the book and handing it into your hands. It was a heavy leather-bound book with symbols that you had no idea what they meant. You placed it on the bedside table and took his reading glasses off, placing them carefully on top of the book.

"I'm fine by the way. I had a great week at work. The baby is fine too. Thank you so much for asking." You said, sitting next to him on the side of the bed.

He ran his hand over his face, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry."

He cupped your face and pulled you to his lips kissing you softly. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

You held his hand on your face.

"Tell me what's going on. I've noticed you've been more taciturn the last few weeks. But I've never seen you like this, Stephen."

He nodded. "I just... I've had a lot of work the last few weeks. I'm tired, that's all."

You didn't believe that. Surely there was something more he didn't want to say.

"I've seen you tired. Hurt, drained of magic, but I've never seen you like this and I need you to tell me what's going on so I can help you."

He took your hands and held them tight in his and then to your astonishment he gave in to a silent cry. You had never seen Stephen cry in all the years you were together. You cupped his face, wiping the tears from his cheek with your thumb.

"Hey! What's wrong? Tell me what's going on."

He sniffed trying to compose himself and then began to speak with a choked voice.

"I'm tired of losing people. Tired of fighting battles that seem to have no end. Tired of seeing innocent people die. This burden is very heavy sometimes and I don't feel like I can carry it at the moment."

You swallowed thickly, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. "You're human, baby. It's normal to feel this way sometimes, there's nothing wrong with that."

He shook his head. "No, I can't. I'm the Sorcerer Supreme, I'm the leader of the Defenders. I don't have the right to succumb because if I do, more people will die and it will be my fault. It's always my fault..."

You shushed him. "Baby that's not true. You always do your best, but it's not possible to save everyone and I'm sorry you feel this way."

You got up and walked around the bed and got comfortable resting your back on a pile of pillows. "Come here. Lay your head in my lap."

He wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hands and surrendered, doing as you asked. You took off the hair tie and started combing the strands gently with your fingers and he let out a heavy sigh.

"Want to tell me what happened on that last mission?"

He shook his head.

"You know you can tell me anything, Stephen."

"I know, but right now I just want to forget everything. I'm so tired. My body is sore from the fight and my head feels like it's going to explode."

You hummed listening and continued stroking his hair. "When was the last time you ate something?"

He did not answer.

"Breakfast? Dinner?" You insisted.

"I don't remember, to be honest."

"Stephen! Let me get you something to eat."

But he held you in place before you could even think about getting up.

"Tomorrow. I don't think I'll be able to hold anything on my stomach tonight, baby. I just want to stay here with you. Please. Want to feel your hands in me."

You sighed, knowing there was no point in insisting.

"You're not going to work tomorrow. I'll talk to Wong in the morning."

He didn't say anything, which made you even more worried. Normally he would have been reluctant to accept your suggestion.

It broke your heart to see Stephen like that. You knew he gave his all to his work, he always put everyone first, in fact that was one of the reasons for your arguments, but it still seemed like it wasn't enough. He overcharged himself, blamed himself for things that weren't his fault. You just wanted him to see himself through your eyes, for him to see himself the way you saw him: a true selfless hero.

"I love you, Stephen. I know you're mad at yourself right now, but I want you to know that I'm proud of you and everything you do to keep me and everyone in this world safe. It's a very heavy burden, baby, but you know I'll always be here to help you carry it."

He turned to look at you. "I love you. So much. More than anything."

You smiled tracing his beard with the tip of your finger. "I know that out there you have to be the Sorcerer Supreme and the Leader of the Defenders, but here, you are allowed to be human, to be Stephen, my sweet husband."

He sighed reaching to touch your cheek.

"There is nothing in the world I want to be more than your husband."

You smiled, holding his hand and lowering it to your belly. "You’re sure?"

And like magic you saw the corner of his lips curl up in a discreet smile that widened and transformed into a wide and beautiful smile when he felt the baby kicking against his hand.

He pressed his lips against your belly and whispered. "I love you so much little one. Can't wait to finally meet you."

You smiled, stroking his hair. "And she loves you. She always starts kicking when she hears your voice. I know she is proud of you just as I am."

Stephen sat up and held your face in his hands. "Thank you, baby, for taking such a good care of me. Everything I do is for my girls."

You leaned in one of his hands. "And I’m so grateful for that. We'll always be here for you in good or bad times. Your two girls will always be here for you.”

Stephen kissed you softly.

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

DEFENDER STRANGE MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Tag list: @doctorstrangelovemusic-blog @rachelessfreedom-world @a-tong @ppatricia34me @strangesgirls @dreamxonxx @benaddictcumberpatch @iamsherlocked1479 @evelyn-kingsley @veryladyqueen @notglucose @wickedscribbles @agathassscribbles @rmoonstoner @fanartka @katehawke @nicoletk @azu21 @captaincarmel416 @harlekin6 @coffedraven @withalittlehoney

@dontmindme262 @dementeddoll @yourmajesty13 @strangeions @bloodyflowerrr @insanelyobsessedwithdilfs @dragonqueen89 @newtsniffles @whiskeyho @sherlux @xourownsidee @kakashibabe02 @hobimysolecito @geeky-politics-46 @lykaonimagines @d0ct0rstrangewife @classickook @iobsessoverfictionalmen @bobateadaydreams @aphroditesdilemma @sassenach-on-the-rocks

@thealleydog @anadlockfan @pinkthick @loverofallbroken @butchers-girl @ironstrangeheart

[cemeteryspider]

House of Us

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: A prank turned into a memory of a sweet moment.

Trigger Warnings: Red Room *Mentioned Briefly*

Word Count: 723 Words

Today was like any boring day in the Avenger's Tower complex. Tony and Bruce were away tinkering in the lab attempting to analyze a lab-created sample of Vibranium.

Meanwhile, Peter was tucked away in a corner, immersed in perfecting a new prototype web shooter. Despite his best efforts, he had shockingly successful encounters with the electric web—shocking himself at least five times in the last hour.

Thor was away on Asgard with Loki, doing mysterious sibling activities, probably visiting their mother.

Natasha, on the other hand, was on a mission with Clint. Given Barton's status as the perennial target for y/n's pranks and general mischief, she already pulled off a daring escapade, swapping out Clint's training arrows with plunger arrows.

With most of the usual suspects occupied, only a few remained. Steve Rogers, currently training with Bucky Barnes in the gym, was one of them, and messing with their workout routine wasn't high on y/n's priority list.

However, a sudden recollection changed the game.

Then, a memory surfaced with Wanda—a playful tradition from the past.

Before they officially started dating a month ago, y/n used to, at least once a week, change the background of Wanda's phone to the most ridiculous pictures of their friends, and occasionally, even Wanda herself.

Reflecting on the last time she played this prank, just before their first date, with a goofy picture of Wanda making a silly face during a silly Christmas movie, a mischievous idea sparked.

Wanda was currently in the kitchen making some delicious Sokovian dish that her mother used to make on special occasions. What was the special occasion? Their one month anniversary of course.

So as stealthily as possible, I utilized my training from the Red Room to make my way over to Wanda's phone and snatched it from the counter. Ready to Airdrop the goofiest picture of Peter Parker to make Wanda's lock screen, I stopped dead in my tracks. The picture that was already there was the one of us before we started dating.

~~~

Wanda practically dragged me across New York to show me something. Apparently something so important we couldn't even stop at the Bakery to get their new line of Avenger's themed donuts.

Wanda's was said to taste like mixed berry and magic.

While at dinner we were talking about family traditions. In Sokovia they had a tree that was strung with lights and glittering paper snowflakes.

When I said that I don't have traditions, and every day was the same in the Red Room. Train, practice, eat, sleep. Again and again. She thought this was unacceptable.

Then we were running through the streets of New York.

"You will love it I promise! This is so much better than donuts" She swore up and down.

Then all of a sudden she covered my eyes with her soft perfect hands and told me to walk forward.

"Are you ready?"

I nodded and started to giggle. A sound I didn't even know I was capable of making. She removed her hands and I saw the most gorgeous Christmas tree I had ever seen.

It was so tall that the star on top of the tree looked like it could be in the sky. Rainbow lights strung all around it made it shine like nothing I'd ever seen, except for maybe Wanda's eyes.

Around me couples were taking photos with the tree as a backdrop and families wrangling kids. Somebody else getting down on one knee and the coos of single people around.

I turned to look at Wanda to exclaim how amazing this is, but she was just looking at me and smiling.

"You deserve the world y/n and I want to give it to you"

I buried my face in the fur of her jacket.

~~~

We asked some random stranger to take a couple pictures of us, and this is one of them. Wanda is laughing at a joke I made her face crinkled and my eyes were closed laughing at her reaction.

That was the moment I knew I had to ask her out, but I didn't work up the courage until a couple weeks later.

That probably was one of the best nights of my life, and I wasn't expecting it to be.

Well I guess I won't be changing her lock screen today.

[questionableratatouille00]

𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 2

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Therapy begins, and Y/n can’t see herself in any of these people. When introductions lead to comparing trauma, will the redhead be able to coerce her out of her shell?

Warnings (Entire Series): This series deals with mature topics, including, but not limited to: death, mental health issues, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, grief, trauma, general unwellness, illness (both mental and physical), and a most likely inaccurate portrayal of group therapy (though it’s much better than whatever was going on in TFATWS.) Please mind the warnings below.

Warnings: anxiety, mentions of death, mentions of: cults, suicidal thoughts, past suicides of family members, heart attacks, kidnapping, child abuse, boat accidents, bombings. Please mind your triggers and stay safe.

🌻 Series Masterlist 🌻

————————————————————————

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐧��

“You can all follow me this way—Dr. Coulson’s ready now.” He announced.

You stood on legs that felt completely hollow—any sense of comfort you’d felt in the waiting room disappearing in an instant. You trailed behind the redhead, the only two people behind you were the two men who’d walked in after you.

Peter, who was most likely college-aged, lead you all down the hallways and to a door. He opened it, leading you all inside the room.

A man, who you assumed was Dr. Coulson, smiled warmly as you all filed inside. There was a circle of chairs in the center of the room.

The room itself was calming, with little decorations here and there.

You sucked in some deep breaths, hoping to at least try and calm your nerves.

Peter walked out of the room, and you turned your attention to Dr. Coulson.

“Hi, everybody. Go ahead and take a seat wherever you’d like.” He directed, sitting down in the one farthest from the door. You took a seat in a chair, and the redhead took the seat to your right. A man with a goatee sat on your left. You quickly surveyed the group.

There was the man with the purple shirt, and you noticed that his eyes were a blue-green color. Next to him was Dr. Coulson, and on Dr. Coulson’s left was a man, with dark skin and some of the most beautiful brown eyes you’d ever seen. Next to him was the man with long brown hair, and then next to him was his blonde friend. Next to the blonde was another blonde, this guy with longer blonde hair he tied back in a ponytail. He was also huge, and muscled to no comparison.

Next to that guy was another man, with dark brown or maybe black hair, and gentle brown eyes. He wore glasses, and seemed very shy. Then there was the redhead next to him, and then, well, you.

“I’d like us all to go around and introduce ourselves,” Dr. Coulson spoke again, “name, age, and a fun fact about yourself, if you feel comfortable doing so.” He invited the conversation, grinning. “I’ll go first. I’m Dr. Phil Coulson, you can call me ‘Phil’ or ‘Coulson’ or whatever you’d like. I’m 49 years old, and I’ve worked here for about fifteen years or so.” He looked to the man in the purple shirt.

“Uh, I’m Clint Barton. I’m 30 years old, and..I’m hard of hearing.” He turned his head to glance at Coulson, and you caught a glimpse of his hearing aid.

The man next to you introduced himself. “The name’s Tony Stark. I’m 45, and I’m a mechanic.” He answered confidently.

Everyone’s focus turned to you. You froze instantly, the introduction you’d been rehearsing in your head completely disappearing from your mind. Your mouth felt dry and your scalp felt hot, like you were standing in the hot sun.

The redheaded woman next to you leaned over to you.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I get nervous too.”

Though she didn’t say much, you felt a small bit of comfort as you cleared your throat. “Sorry. Uh, my name’s Y/n. Y/n L/n. Uh...I’m 27. Uh…I almost didn’t come here today.” Several people flashed you small smiles of friendliness, to which you smiled back.

“I’m Wanda Maximoff.” The woman next to you smiled warmly. “I’m 26. And I’ve been married before.” When she smiles, her nose crinkles.

“I’m Bruce Banner. I’m 43, and I’m a scientist.” The guy beside her said quietly. He seemed anxious, but also very kind.

“I am Thor Odinson. I am 30, and I had two siblings.” The guy with the blonde ponytail’s voice was loud and booming, but not in an aggressive way. He looked fun to be around, and he looked like the kind of guy you didn’t expect to see in a therapy group. But you could really say that about any of these people. They didn’t look traumatized, from what you could tell.

“Hi. I’m Steve Rogers, I’m 29 years old, and I’ve known this guy—“ he taps the brunette next to him's shoulder, grinning, “—my whole life.”

The guy next to him nods, confirming this, but he shifts awkwardly. You notice that he's wearing gloves, along with his jacket and all his other layers. Strange, considering the weather, but maybe he just had poor circulation.

He took them off as he fiddled with his hands. You noticed his left hand was a dark, dark gray, with gold lines in it. Metal, you realized. He caught you looking, giving you a look of distrust, of defensiveness.

No, you wanted to assure him. I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck. You felt immeasurably guilty and he looked away.

"My name is James Barnes. I'm 29. I go by Bucky." He states, and it looks like he struggled to get it out. Steve smiles at him, and you can compare his demeanor to one of a golden retriever.

"I'm Sam Wilson. I'm also 29, and I used to counsel veterans down at a VA office in DC." The man with the beautiful brown eyes said.

"It's nice to meet you all." Dr. Coulson grinned as he looked around the group. "Even though you all come from different backgrounds and have lived different lives, you all have one thing in common: you all have PTSD, or struggle with a past trauma." He explains.

"Today, I’d like to talk about PTSD as we start this week’s session. I understand that many of us in this group have experienced past trauma or traumas, and are still navigating the effects of these experiences. I’d like to invite all of you to speak openly about any emotions or events that you’ve been struggling with, and how it has impacted your life. We’re here to support and understand one another, so don’t hesitate to share your stories. Are you all comfortable with going around and explaining why you came today? You can be as brief or descriptive as you'd like. I'd like to remind everybody that this is a safe space, and there will be no judgement here."

You sat quietly, not wanting to be the first person to speak up. Luckily, you didn't have to be.

"When I was 13, I watched my father have a heart attack. Right in front of me. I was real sick a lot as a kid, so it was rough on my Ma. She ended up passing when I was 18." Steve speaks quietly, nodding slowly to himself, keeping his eyes on his hand, which rested on his knee.

When it was clear he was finished, Sam spoke up next. "I was in the military. Served in the Air Force. Watched my best friend, who was also my partner of two years at the time, go down. Felt like I was just up there to watch." Sam recalls.

"My sister was four years older than me, and my brother was two years younger. She killed herself when I was 14. My brother overdosed when I was 17. My father favorited me, and it was clear that he did." Thor states.

"I was kidnapped as a kid, and my dad was shitty." Tony shrugs.

"I struggled a lot with...thoughts of suicide a lot. So..yeah." Bruce trails off.

"My dad was abusive." Clint explains briefly.

"I'm from Sokovia." Wanda began. "My brother died in a bombing there a few years ago, as our parents did when we were younger. My husband died last year in a boat accident."

Husband, you noted.

"My girlfriend died nine months ago." You force the words out, remaining cautious. Girlfriend. Not boyfriend.

Nobody reacted differently to your statement, and you smiled internally, though you couldn’t help but compare your response to everyone else’s. Yours didn’t seem as…serious as theirs. You felt a sense of guilt seeping in. Here you were, taking up a spot in a therapy group where someone with some serious issues could be sitting.

"...I was in the army. Got..got my arm blown off. And then, uh...cult." Bucky kept his gaze on the floor, even as Steve gently pressed his knee against Bucky's.

"Wait. 'Cult'?" Tony catches, brows furrowed and eyes showing the confusion he felt. Everyone, including you, nodding in agreement with him.

“Long story.” Bucky brushes it off.

“Okay then.” Sam shrugs.

You watched Dr. Coulson as he began to talk again.

—————————

He’d introduced a small game to help everyone get to know each other. It felt like a thing you’d do in middle school, but it worked nonetheless. You enjoyed it, even. It hadn’t been awful.

You knew a little bit more about everybody. Thor’s favorite color is red. Clint was good at archery. Bucky worked at the library. Steve had a long list of illnesses. Sam liked running. Wanda’s favorite flowers were sunflowers.

When it was over, you drove home. Once you got in your apartment, you opened your phone, clicking on a familiar contact.

“Hello?” Sharon’s voice sounded out from the phone.

“Sharon, hey.” You smiled awkwardly to yourself.

“Oh my God, Y/n. It’s good to..hear your voice. Wait. Did you go? To the meeting today?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“How was it?”

“It was uh, it was good.” You stared at your feet, realizing your shoes were still on as you stood in the living room. You kicked them off, listening to her voice.

“I’m glad to hear it. I..wasn’t sure if you’d go. The emoji was good to see, but..a bit vague.” She laughed.

“Yeah…sorry about that. And I’m sorry for…y’know, ghosting you and all that.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you seem to be doing a bit better. Hey, uh, I’m in the parking lot of the hospital. My shift’s in a few minutes, but do you wanna get some coffee? Whenever you have time.”

You paused for a minute, taking in some shallow and shaky breaths.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d..I’d like that. See you soon, Sharon.”

“Bye.” She said.

“Bye.” You echoed, listening to her hang up the phone. After a moment, you lowered it from your ear, smiling.

Maybe everything wasn’t so bad, after all.