wimpyvamps

[wimpyvamps]

introduction to my nameless novel <3

Away from the crowded cities and busy streets of Southeast England you'll find an old road, with old street lamps and tall bushes. At the end of the road you'll be met with Brixden University, stood in place since 1408 and cherished as one of the best Universities for Arts and Humanities and Social Sciences. Standing proud in all its glory, you see stone walls, dark wood, marble floors and grand rooms everywhere you look. With on-campus housing options, the school has always had good ratings.. at least from those who bothered to actually write their opinion on the place.

The year is 1961, and we are quickly introduced to our beloved friend group, "The dreamers" is what they called themselves. Best friends since attending the same boys-and-girls boarding (high) school, some knew each other from childhood, others were suddenly accepted into the group. Desperately wanting to stay together, they all set their sights on the same University, even those who had dreams that couldn't be fulfilled at the school. With good grades and plenty of luck on their side, they got in and started there together, practically walking hand in hand.

The group consists of six people, four guys and two girls. There's Vincent Riordsan, Calloway Anderson, Oliver Taylor Appleton, Matthew Lennon, Macy-Anne Gatsby and Juliana Hawthorne. They're all close in their own ways, they don't secretly hate one another, in fact some feel a bit more than friendship between them. Macy-Anne and Juliana have known each other since they were kids and continue to be best friends even when in a close friend group. Calloway is rather close to Oliver, and greatly looks up to Vincent in more ways than one. Matthew is closest to Juliana but can get along with most of the group. And Oliver and Juliana start off casually before becoming glued to each other.

Being introduced to one of their professors, they quickly pick him out as a favorite. As he begins to teach them about the important things. Understanding ones own mind and the minds of others, seeing parts of life you didn't realize you weren't seeing, and much more. To some, he's almost like a father, to others he's the teacher to trust and to appreciate your work the most. He naturally doesn't have any favorite students, but he can clearly see who's taking in his teachings and who isn't.

It might be easy to tell already, but Juliana is the star of the group in a way. The brightest, smiliest and the one most set on her dreams, but also getting others to follow their own. She's the first to drag people in to the group, the first to rush to help or to comfort, always up for adventures, always ready to do something; always everybody's biggest supporter. Unfortunately, this also means people, even the ones who think they know her better than anybody else, don't always notice small details. The details that could save the persons life, or at least keep it going for just a while longer.

The novel would include (cw) themes of trauma following into adulthood, queer relationships and internalized homophobia, unhealthy or abusive family dynamics, mental health being overlooked, seeing the beauties of life even in dark moments, and so on. Following books might be written later, most likely shorter novels that go over the futures of each individual in the friend group, how prior events affected them, etc. All in all it's a novel that focuses on losing those who seem like they'd stick around forever, and how the group deals with life when every part of it seems to be against you.

© deartoddanderson ⋆.˚ please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my work without permission. // credit to @uzmacchiato for dividers!

[wimpyvamps]

which kind of girl each of the poets would date ⋆·˚ ༘ *

steven meeks

loves a black cat & mysterious girl ! she's also lowkey obsessed with tarot cards <3

knox overstreet

you guys already know knox loves his coquette, soft and girly girls ! (literally just take a good look at chris)

charlie dalton

sunshine, extroverted & adventurous girlies (who are a bit obsessed with partying as well) are such gf material for charlie ! he's obsessed !!

gerard pitts

whimsy, manic pixie dream girls all the way y'all !! bonus points if she wears polka dot skirts & has flower stickers on her car !

neil perry

girls that are like the moon, obsessed with their craft (singing, writing, dancing, you name it!) & who tend to be more introverted !

todd anderson

shy & cute nature girlies that see beauty in every living thing ! (she would never hurt a fly)

richard cameron

i'm sorry but he loves a clean girl ! he's a clean boy himself and y'all can't tell me otherwise (yes, he has a skin care routine) !

which one are you? comment down below!

[wimpyvamps]

dps boys & spending a day at the lake with them

summary ; what it would be like to spend a day at the lake with each of the poets

words ; 900

a/n ; just graduated and finally have time to write again, so I hope you enoy this little summer-themed thing! (w my favorite grump richard)

richard cameron he would make sure you put on sunscreen and drink enough water. he doesn't want you to be dehydrated, especially on such a hot day. deff judges the people whose skin is already burnt to a crisp. "you see that guy over there? he looks like a crab" "richard!" "what? it's true! I just don't get the people who don't put on sunscreen. it's like... do you want to look like that?" he teaches you how to skip rocks and braids your hair so it doesn't get tangled in the water. when you want to go for a swim, he's reading the newspaper, fixated on that one article talking about that new playground being built in your neighborhood and you literally have to snap him out of his trance and beg him to go in the water with you. eventually, he does go with you but you literally have to pry that article from his hands.

"do you realize they're going to build it right next to our house?"

to be fair, out of all the guys he'd be the first one to notice your new bikini and compliment you on it.

before you leave, he will be adamant on making sure you didn't leave any trash behind and that your spot is clean. if there's any other trash or stumped out cigarettes around you, he will pick everything up and complain about the ignorant people destroying the environment (while shaking his head like a disappointed dad). gerard pitts he's so excited when you get to the lake!! would spend hours in the water with you, just playing around, diving and watching the fish, snorkeling or playing with a ball. the two of you would collect seashells and pretty stones. you would also totally do the trend where you take pearls / stones similar to the other's eye color to make a bracelet out of it. also, if you ask, he'd totally be down to build a sand castle. makes it really detailed too and builds up a whole story behind the knight & princess living in it. he even finds two seashells to represent them and is like "look, babe, it's us!" charlie dalton he's ready to have fun!! he races you to the water and throws you into the waves. also will literally play mermaids with you no questions asked. probably gets sunburnt pretty fast because he forgot to put on sunscreen (and yes he will complain about it the entire week). after he's already spent hours in the sun, he will ask you to put sunscreen on his back with the biggest, proudest smile ever, thinking he's slick.

also, charlie is literally like that one instagram trend where the guy is like "waiting for my girlfriend to finish putting on my sunscreen so I can go play pirates in the water" or something like that lol knox overstreet this man has to keep his tan up! it's not a skin color it's a lifestyle bryan! (who got that reference??) no seriously, he's the type to lay down on the beach and tan rather than spend hours in the water. he will take the occasional dip though and complain that the water's too cold. I can also see y'all being one of those yoga couples at the beach who do those weird couple positions (I'M SORRY BUT I CAN TOTALLY SEE THAT WITH HIM LMAO) steven meeks bro he literally geeks out over the algae at the beach cause he recently read about it!! he holds a piece up to your face and says: "here babe, try, this one's edible" and you're like: "stevie, that literally looks like regurgitated grass"

"what? no it does not! come on, try just a little bit! it's really good, I promise"

"no!"

"come on, yn!", he begs, laughing and wiggling the algae in front of your face. he definitely chases you around the beach with it. the two of you do crossword puzzles and play uno, in which both of you get weirdly competitive. you'd lay down the +4 card and he'd be gasping and clutching his chest like you'd just brutally wounded him.

"do you not love me anymore?"

"just take the four cards and shut up"

it's all in good fun though. and yes, of course he gets sunburn. he's ginger, what did you expect? plus he doesn't put on 10 layers of sunscreen like cameron, so yes, he burns. shrugs it off tho. he also brings his radio and you guys just listen to music. todd anderson with him it's a pretty chill day, just reading, enjoying nature. you watch clouds together, cuddling. he'd also want to explore the area a little, like taking a look at the forest that's nearby or getting ice cream. he also takes his camera with him, taking loads of cute pictures of you. definitely frames them and puts them up in his office. neil perry if you're both actors you're taking your scripts with you to practice along with looaads of snacks! he's also soo extroverted at the beach, like he's asking random strangers if they wanna play volleyball with you or if you're missing an extra person for the script if they wanna practice with you. so you're just sitting on your picnic blanket, making friends with some random person rehearsing lines with you. your boyfriend's just sociable like that! but if you'd want it to be just the two of you, he'd also respect that! he's like charlie, playful and just wanting to have fun with you!

[wimpyvamps]

headcannons on how the dead poets comfort you

pairing: dps boys x gn!reader

genre: comfort, pure fluff tho, could be read as romantic or platonic

word count: 1.2k

content warnings: none, only its lowercase intended and the reader is kind of at welton 25/8 so you could imagine that welton is a co-ed school (depending on your gender) or that you’re just a student at welton.

authors note: this is self indulgent and very fluffy… laptop is still broken so i’m writing this on my cellular device (¬_¬) this may be ooc again yikes, not proofread and contain some tense problems… reblogs are appreciated 💌

neil perry: this boy can practically sense when you’re in need of comfort. he picks up on the smallest of changes from the way you smile, the way you stand or walk, to the tone of your voice. he won’t push you to talk to him about it, as he wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but when you end up going to him with that look on your face, he pulls you to a secluded area, maybe somewhere outside on the field. neil lets you pour your heart out to him, and not once will he look away from you; even if your eyes are looking anywhere but him. his eyes are full with pure love and understanding, but if you’re rambling like crazy, neil will say your name and gently place his hand on your cheek, making you meet his gaze. he offers up his words of inspiration, wanting to uplift you in any way shape of form, and would also go out of his to make sure you know how amazing you are. he may also pull you into a hug if he feels you need it.

todd anderson: todd’s a very shy person, and i think that can sometimes show when he’s comforting you. i know he has a lot of character development and comes out of his shell, but i still feel like his way of comforting you is spending quality time with you. if he can tell you need some kind of comfort (he can sense it like neil) he’s walking you to a quiet area- whether that’s his shared dorm or some spot on a hill under a tree)- sitting himself down and pulling you down next to him. he lets you talk when you want to, so if you want to talk, he’ll listen intently, occasionally asking questions and making comments. if you’d rather not speak, it’s a comfortable silence; i can see todd being someone very big on physical touch (because he’s quite shy), so he probably pulls you close or lets you lay your head on his lap/shoulder while he writes a poem about you in his notebook.

steven meeks: it takes one look from steven for you to break down in front of him. whether you’re just crying waterfalls or just word vomiting your worries to him, he keeps his calm, letting you do what you need to do; steven knows that keeping stuff bottled up is not healthy, and he also knows that not crying when you’re upset just makes things worse. he grabs your shoulders and pulls you close, asking how long you’ve been keeping it in, if you need some water, etc.. i think he’d take your hand, tells you he has and idea, and takes you on a walk, making occasional conversation about your feelings. he’d make a quick stop to his dorm room before walking you to the rooftop. steven would then proceed to pull out his and pitts radio, fiddling with it before placing the headphones on your head. music drowns out your sadness (he knows that music therapy helps with comforting), and it doesn’t take long before steven starts doing a silly little dance, holding your hand and encouraging you to cut loose (footloose reference).

gerard pitts: oh my pittsie, he’s the absolute sweetest. he’s probably with steven when you approach him, and gerard would (lovingly) ditch him in 0.01 seconds to be by your side. he can be a teensy bit awkward at times, but that doesn’t stop him from absolutely pampering you. i think he would give you his sweater to wear or drapes his blazer over your shoulders while you pour your heart out to him, and would 100% bring you some kind of snack that he knows you like. i actually think gerard is good at comforting, and would tell you it’s valid to feel the way you feel, that it’s okay to be upset; but he will never let you talk badly about yourself, shutting you up in an instance the moment you try to say something bad about yourself. i can see you two lying on his bed or sitting on the floor of his dorm while he informs you of the silly boy shenanigans him and meeks have been up to in order to cheer you up.

charlie dalton: it’s 11:14pm, and there’s a knock at charlie’s dorm door. when he opens it in his half- asleep state to find you standing there, visibly upset, he doesn’t have time to ask anything as you immediately step into the dorm and throw yourself onto him. he’d carefully grab the sides of your face, eyes scanning your face to make sure you’re not harmed in any way. “woah—hey hey hey, what’s wrong?”, “it’s okay, you’re okay.” at that point, charlie’s concern is on you and does not care if he wakes up his roommate. i like to think that he knows how to deal with situations like this, so he might take you outside for some fresh cool air (not without giving you his jumper first to make sure you stay warm). even though charlie definitely cracks a couple of jokes and uses his humour to cheer you up, i think he is very insightful with his words and is probably very good at comforting people in general. from that point on, for the next week or so, he is practically glued to you, making sure you’re feeling okay and doing absolutely anything for you.

richard cameron: the moment you approach cameron to find a sense of comfort, he would usher you into his dorm room and immediately start to ask what or who is making you upset, how it is impacting you, how long you’ve felt like that, etc etc… he becomes a mini therapist and practically takes mental notes on everything. he can’t hide his concern for you and might be a teensy bit pushy (lovingly) if you’re struggling to get your words out. even though cameron might not be the best with words, i feel like he would comfort you by taking some of the stress off of your shoulders; basically acts of service, like for instance if you were worried about something like grades, he would want to help you with that: he may do your homework or give you notes. if he found out some of the students at welton were picking on you and giving you trouble, he might give them a piece of his mind or dob them in to mr nolan.

knox overstreet: when knox finds out you’re upset, his first instinct is to pull you into his embrace. if you can’t get any words out, he immediately wraps his arms around you tightly, pulling you into him and letting you sob into him. if you two are sitting together and you’re venting about all your personal worries and stresses, knox either (if you’re sitting across from him) holds your hands and rubs his thumbs across them while he listens, or if you’re sitting next to him, gently pushes you to his side so you can lean on him while you ramble. his love language is most definitely physical touch, so expect lots of hugs, playing with your hair, shoulder rubs, and just general touchiness. i can also see him affirming how much he loves/cares for you and how proud he is of you, while also making lighthearted jokes just to see a small smile form on your face. knox seems like the type to cuddle you in his bed until you fall asleep in his arms.

[wimpyvamps]

Professor Lupin has a seventh-year student whose bogart is the full moon. But she tells him she has no idea what he's talking about. On the next full moon he waits out side the school till she comes out as well.

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

--

"Class dismissed," Professor Lupin waved his students away, ignoring the excited chatter that followed. You tried ducking out first, not eager to answer any curious students as to why your biggest fear was the fucking moon, but the professor seemed to beat them to it.

"Miss Y/L/N, a word?"

You blinked back a few unshed tears, backtracking up to Professor Lupin's desk and attempting to look unbothered.

"Yes professor?"

"If you ever need any help, I'm always here."

"Professor?"

"The moon brings out the worst in us both, does it not?" His face was kind and gentle, as it always was, but you were finally reconsidering the scars that litter his features.

You paused, chest tightening in anxiety as you calculated your response, "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"Right," Professor Lupin smiled slyly, "Then go on about your day. Just know, I'll be out by sundown."

You rushed off to lunch, trying to forget the dangerous encounter you'd just had by stuffing a roll into your mouth and burying your nose into a book. You pointedly ignored the stare you were getting from the staff table, not wanting to be ogled by Professor Lupin any longer.

--

By the night of the next full moon, you'd nearly forgotten about your conversation with your professor. He'd gone back to business as usual, treating you like any other student in his class. And you relished it, being able to feel like any other student.

But your trek down to the grounds isolated you once more. You kept to yourself as you walked, swerving around groups of students on their way back up to the castle and avoiding a flock of birds that tried aggravating your temper.

Your usual spot was just beyond the first clearing in the forest, and your heart skipped a beat when you noticed a man standing there, his frame similarly concealed by a cloak almost as ragged as yours.

"I had a feeling I'd meet you here," The voice instantly rung clear in your mind, the same one that you listened to once a day for an hour and a half.

"Professor," You hesitated, standing a few feet away from him for fear of intruding, "Is there something you need?"

"Some company might be nice for us both," He sighed, "I'm sure you know all too well how lonely it can be without someone to relate to."

[wimpyvamps]

Could I request one with James where you accidentally switch glasses?

Your eyes hurt. Your depth perception is off, your vision is blurry, and you're developing a whopping headache. You're not sure why, the glasses on your face are the same as they always are. They looked the same when you'd snatched them off of James's nightstand this morning, an impromptu sleepover leaving you both in the same space.

Maybe, just maybe, though, something happened. Because the brown curly hair that's stuck in the hinge of the left arm is not yours, and you're fairly certain yours don't have a scratch on the bottom of the right lens.

You rush to the great hall as best you can, stumbling slightly and tripping over people's feet. It's a miracle, really, that you get there in one piece, but you're huffing and puffing in front of the gryffindor table only minutes after class ends, trying to catch your breath.

"James," You pant, tearing his glasses off of your face, "We- we swapped this morning."

"No wonder these are so clean," James marvels, and you shudder to think that he believes your mediocrely cleaned glasses are spotless, "Swear I haven't seen this well in years."

He accepts his dusty, dirty, mucky glasses back with a disdained frown, "Christ, are they really this gross?"

"They're filthy." You blink owlishly as your vision is restored, your glasses fitting snugly on your face, "I've seen sewers cleaner than those, Potter."

[wimpyvamps]

literally anything w sunshine/ golden retriever james and reserved black cat/ grumpy reader omg

come visit my flower garden!!

--

"What are you reading?" A chin hooked itself over your shoulder, messy curls tickling your temple as James Potter peered at the book open in front of you.

You lifted your shoulder and pressed it flush to the side of your jaw, jostling his head from where it was laying on you and forcing him to stand upright again. You let out a soft huff as you tried to relocate the line you'd lost concentration on.

"Nothing that you'd like, Potter." You grumbled, finally finding the sentence and continuing to read, "Go away."

"I think Moony read that once," James mused, unceremoniously setting his bag on the table with a thump and plopping down into the chair beside you, 'Can't really remember though. I think the cover of his might've been blue? Maybe a special edition or something. It was cool, it had little gold flowers all over it, and-"

You took a deep breath as you prepared to spend god knows how long in the library with James Potter, because you knew him, and the last thing he'd do was leave you alone.

[wimpyvamps]

can we get shy! reader x remus where they’re just in their own little bubble and the other marauders and lily and the girls think it’s the cutest thing ever?

i love you and your writing!! <33

thank you!! ♡ shy!fem!reader | 0.6k words

Remus has always been steady. His voice is warm and measured, his every movement thought through. 

You'd love to be that way. You're not and you never have been but sometimes, with Remus, you get close. He's pulled your thighs over his lap and you've forgotten to feel bashful about it, though there's a heat from being so close to him spreading over your entire body. 

You're smiling. Really smiling. 

"It's disgusting," Sirius says where he sits a little ways away with the rest of your friends. 

"I think it's nice," James says. "She never smiles like that." 

"She smiles like that all the time," Lily argues 

"Only with Remus. When they get like that," Sirius says, pretending to gag. 

Remus has inclined his head to yours, his hand clasped lightly around your forearm for no reason at all. He's just said something to make you laugh, a peel of giggles foreign to the group despite having known you for years. You sound pleased though shy. It's obvious what he's saying, his lips curled up, sweet nothings that have you closing your eyes and dropping your head into his shoulder.

Remus raises a big hand to your back and claps it gently.  

"That's, like, illegal right?" Sirius asks.

"It's a bit much, Pads, but I don't think it's prosecutable." James says, wrinkling his nose as Remus ducks down to whisper something in your ear. "Might be soon, though."

"Keep your hands to yourself, Moony!" Sirius shouts. 

Remus pulls his hand from where it had been perfectly chaste on your thigh and throws the bird in the general direction of your friends. 

"It's PDA to the extreme." 

"Technically, it's not public," Lily says. 

"Might as well be. It's my house," James grumbles. "Why are they always gross in my house?"

"Do you think they know we can hear them?" Remus whispers to you.

You pull your head off of his shoulder. You're embarrassed about being so lovey-dovey in the middle of a party, really, it's not like you, but Remus has this way about him that you're hopeless for. He's a warm flame. You melt anytime he gets close enough, and right now you're more than close. 

Worse than his proximity is the clear, undeniable affection and esteem that he holds you in. He's adoring in more than touch. The way he talks to you, as if every word is something to be treasured - ugh. You feel sick with it. 

"I think it's fucking adorable," Mary chimes in. 

Sirius scowls at her. "You think everything's adorable." 

"It's cute," Marlene agrees reluctantly. 

"McKinnon!" 

"What? Look at them! And Lily's right, when do you get to see Y/N smiling like that? Only when they're together being gross. I say leave them to it." 

"It's nice," Emmmaline says. 

You tilt your head back and whisper something to Remus, looking unsure of yourself. 

He bursts into laughter, loud and urgent, his hand gripping your thigh in a tight grip. "Dove," he says, almost chiding. 

"What?" you ask, though his laughter has swiftly infected you and left you breathless, gasping for air through thick rounds of giggling. 

"Ugh," Sirius says, looking over his shoulder at your laughing with a scowl. When he turns back, everybody is smiling. "Oh, get a hold of yourselves, I beg." 

[wimpyvamps]

remus peels your tangerines for you because he loves you.

you’re sitting between his knees when the day is warm and pink and velvet through the window of your tiny living room. the tv is on. it’s playing sunday reruns of columbo, but you’ve long since forgotten about it, far too busy giggling as remus— without so much as looking— slides another segment into your mouth, careful to drag your hair away so you don’t taste it, too.

“what’s so funny?” he asks you, and although you have your back to his chest, you know this: he is smiling. remus says your joy is contagious; that you fill him up with everything good. it’s his favourite thing about you, how you make the world seem kind, and him seem impossibly tender, despite his frayed edges.

he pinches your cheek between forefinger and thumb, gentle with his big hands, as always. you’ve got a mouthful of fruit and a face stinging with sweetness. it’s moments like these that you favour the most. silly and warm, when you are most yourselves. remus offers you another slice, before you’ve even finished the previous one. you laugh harder, and bite it anyway. “what are you doing?”

“i don’t know,” he says, warm like summer rain as he kisses the top of your head, chuckling like thunder. “it’s supposed to taste better if someone else does it for you.”

“you’re such a silly thing.”

“am i?”

you nod your head, swallowing the sun he gives you. when you turn to him, his eyes are crinkled and his freckles are brown and he looks as beautiful as a daffodil in june.

“mhmm. but i love you for it.” remus flicks your nose and you wrinkle it at him, incredibly fond.

there are a lot of things to adore about remus. like: how his teeth are crooked; how he blushes in the cold and, how he apologises to objects like tables and chairs when he bumps into them, because he is clumsy and long and always catches in the edges of things, even when he’s careful. he has a heart so big that it spills out of his chest and into his hands, and you think that’s why his hugs feel like home. though, what you like best, are his eyes.

big and brown and ever-lasting. filled with honey and affection.

“well, what’s the verdict? do you like it better?”

you flatten your palm against his chest and tilt your head up to him like you always do when you want to be close to him. “i think i need a second opinion.”

when he kisses you, you think, there is nothing greater than this.

[wimpyvamps]

𝟑:𝟐𝟒𝐀𝐌 — 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐍

"here you go, love."

remus' voice is quiet as he hands you a cup of hot chocolate. the mug he chose for you is red, a little scratched and chipped with use, but still your favourite mug—and the thought of him choosing it on purpose makes your heart falter. "thank you, remmy."

while you blow at the hot drink, watching the little marshmallows swim around the thick brown liquid, remus takes a seat next to you on the balcony couch. he has a mug of his own, and you notice it has less floating marshmallows than yours. you remember seeing that the bag was almost empty, so you guess he gave you the biggest portion... and there goes your heart again.

"you—" you pause, embarrassed.

"what?" he asks, slipping off his house slippers and tucking the blanket around him. at your silence, he looks up to meet your eyes. "what, love?"

you hesitate, not wanting to ruin the moment with sentimentality. but when his lip quirks and his brow arches you huff, feeling the heat travel to your cheeks. "you just... you make me feel so loved." you clear your throat, uncomfortable. "s'just... nice. m'not used to it, I guess."

he watches closely, your pained bitter smile, the way your hands are fidgeting, and the way he can tell you're dying to bring your nails to your mouth to gnaw them raw.

with a soft smile, he switches his drink to the hand farthest from you, lifting the other arm to make room for you by his side. "c'mere, love."

you move embarrassingly fast, the hot chocolate almost toppling over, which makes the pair of you laugh as he slows you down, helping you settle against his chest and wrapping the big blanket around both your frames. his lips brush against your hairline, and his breath is hot and sweet, and it smells like chocolate and sugar and understanding.

"you're the best thing that ever happened to me," he murmurs against your forehead. "and I'm glad I make you feel loved, sweetheart. because sometimes I feel like I was put on this earth to love you."

it's not healthy, you think, but are any of the great love stories?

"I used to always feel like I was drowning," he confesses. and maybe there's something about the semi-darkness at 3:24 in the morning, or the feeling that the world is still asleep so your secrets are spoken to the void, a confession without penance. "and at some point I stopped caring, stopped trying to swim."

you heart hurts, and your breath is shaky as you bury your face against his collarbone and he tightens his grip on you.

"when you showed up in my life," he laughs, but there's no humour in it. "it was like a tsunami, you flipped my world upside down... sometimes I'm sill scared of tipping you overboard, dragging you down with me."

your lip is wobbling, but when you look up at his face there's a wave of certainty that wraps around you. "I'd happily drown if it meant I got to be with you."

it's not healthy, he thinks, but neither are any of the great love stories

his smile is genuine now as he kisses your eyelids and then your nose, "there won't be a need for that, I don't think." his eyes stare deep into yours, and in that moment as your noses rub together and you communicate an eternity through shaky smiles, you swear you're sharing the same breath. "because I've never met anyone who's made me want to stay alive like you do, not this much."

[wimpyvamps]

LITTLE WOMEN

“ i say it all the time, i just say it very very quietly. i tell you when you’re in another room, or right after we hang up the phone. i say it after you shut the door behind you. i say it in my head every time you look at me. i love you. of course i love you. i never stopped. “

with remus? both so oblivious with how much you both love each other. you're both definitely too shy.

mhm yeahhhh!!!! I loved writing this omg

summary: you and remus say your first ‘I love you’s

fem!reader 0.6k words

You’re smiling so big it hurts. It’s hard not to, with Remus around. He’s sweet and he’s firm and he’s grounding. He’s lovely. You’re totally in love and you can’t hold it in a second longer.

You bury your face in his shoulder and mumbled three words into his shirt. Three words you say in your head all the time but never say aloud. “I love you.”

Remus goes rigid. His hands stop where they’re rubbing up and down your arms and go tight around your elbows. “What?”

Your cheeks go hot suddenly. You push your face into his neck and grumble into it. Remus laughs.

“Dove,” he says, chiding. He encourages you away from him none too softly, pushing you back with his hands around your elbows. He manages to get some space between you and then uses one hand to lift your chin up, forcing you to look at him. “What did you say, pretty girl?”

Your face feels hotter than ever. You blink and then stare at his collar. “I said I love you,” you say quietly. “Is that, um. Is that okay?”

He’s too quiet. You lift your eyes to his to find him looking at you like you invented the sun.

“Are you kidding?” He says, and he’s grinning like mad, almost laughing, his cheeks all appled and pink. “Of course it’s okay.” He pushes his hand upwards to cup your cheek in his palm, fingers curling behind your ear. He gets this look on his big brown eyes and you think you fall in love all over again. More like tumble in love. Fall flat on your face in love.

“I love you, too,” Remus says. “Of course I love you too. I’ve just been waiting for the right time to say it, you know?”

You nod. You know. You’ve been waiting, too.

Remus smiles and it’s like a strike to your heart. He takes your face in both hands, pushes his fingers into the hair behind your ears.

“I want you to know I say it all the time,” he says seriously. Quietly. Like it’s only meant for you.

You blink. He does? “You do?”

Remus drags his thumbs over the hollows under your eyes, lets them rest at the corners, just shy of your eyelashes.

“I do,” he says, nodding, and it’s a confession, a pouring of his hearts contents to you. “I just say it very, very quietly. I tell you when you’re in another room, or right after we hang up the phone. I say it after you shut the door behind you. I say it in my head every time you look at me.”

He laughs then, and lets his forehead tip forwards so it presses to yours, like he can’t contain how he feels for you, like he needs to be as close as possible. You feel very much the same.

“I love you,” he says into the small space between your mouths. His words drift through your from his parted lips to yours, they creep into your chest and lodge themselves in your heart. Stuck. Forever. “Of course I love you. I never stopped.”

His hair crushes against your forehead, tickles your skin. His hands hold you so firm it’s like he’s branding you. Your heart thrums like a guitar string plucked.

“Remus,” you say, and your lips are buzzing, begging to be kissed, to pour out all your love for him like sugar. You huff, giddy to be loved by him so much. “How on earth am I supposed to top that?”

Remus laughs, loud and clear, throws his head back and roars with pleased laughter. His hands squeeze at your cheeks. You find yourself catching his case of the giggles so easily it’s like clockwork.

“I’m serious!” You hiccup. You push at his chest because he won’t stop laughing and you’re starting to think he won’t ever stop. “You’re awful, Remus.”

“Awful?” Remus gawps, and he pinches your cheeks like he’s actually offended. “I think you mean awfully romantic.”

You burst into laughter all over again, smiling like a maniac. And even when Remus kisses you, you won’t stop smiling. You honestly don’t think you ever will.

-

[wimpyvamps]

✶ NIGHTTIME / poly!marauders

— pairing: poly!marauders x reader

— summary: you and your boyfriends have a very different definition of what a "fun night" means, implied introvert/shy!reader

As much as you love all of your boyfriends equally (fact that you had to remind them two times a week, at least), you would say that sometimes, just sometimes, you felt like you could easily pick one out.

It's not personal, nor a constant feeling. You love Sirius and James as much as the next person, and you wouldn't trade them for the world. You're not sure though, if right now if asked, you wouldn't trade them for a moment of stillness.

It's not their fault, not really. They couldn't possibly know you were already home, that Remus picked you up because you were feeling poorly and that you made him swear not to tell them. You swore that you'd tell them yourself. You still would, if they hadn't arrived all but stumbling and shouting nonsense at your shared flat.

You think at least they didn't arrive when you were feeling truly horrible, your stomach aching from nervousness and your head hurting so much it felt like it was hit by a brick. Then, you think, you might've trade them for another brick to put you out of your misery.

"Moony, darling!" Sirius' voice rings through your ears, and you groan softly from your bedroom, door left slightly ajar. "We're—" He's abruptly cut by what you think was a hiccup. "Home!"

You sigh softly, but before you can push your legs out and get away from your perfectly comfortable bed to tend to your drunk boyfriends, your perfectly lovely, sober, boyfriend stops you. You set the teacup down on your nightstand, but he merely smiles.

"I've got this." He says, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. Without your phone — doctor's orders —, you are left to do your sudoku and crosswords. Remus is gentle enough to make an attempt to close the door, before James and Sirius beat him to it.

"Hi, my love..." James mumbles as he tries to climb into bed, pressing a loud and exaggeratedly wet kiss to your cheek. "We missed you."

"Hi, Jamie." You smile at the boy, combing your hair through his curls as he leans into your touch. He smells like his cologne and alcohol, plus some lingering note of smoke your nose barely picks at. You knew James wasn't a smoker, but he hanged around smokers a lot.

"Hi, mon chérie." Sirius says as he so gracefully barges in the room, his shadow hovering above you as he leans against the headboard of your bed. A couple of strands fall over his eyes, and he tries to blow them away.

"Fun night?" You raise your eyes to him, putting the pen down in between the pages.

"Funniest. Mary sends you a hug, by the way." He replies, and you chuckle at the nonsense answer. It's a close guess, at least. "How's yours, is Moony treating you alright?"

"It's fun, we've been reading but Rem put me in cellphone timeout." You fake complain, pointing to your phone on the opposite side table. Sirius makes an appalling noise in your behalf, and you smile.

"Oh my god, he's been torturing you!"

"I'm treating everyone very well, thank you very much, Pads." Remus walks back into the room a second after, with a large glass of water and a couple of aspirins. You don't know for which of you. "Open up."

He hands the cup to Sirius, popping a pill on the palm of his hand and doing the same to James' extended one, who's currently face planted into your duvet.

"You're a saint, Moony." James grumbles, squinting his eyes as he raises his head, an odd position you're sure it's bound to give him neck pain later. You tap his shoulder lightly and gestures him to turn the other way around, belly up.

"Uhm, you are." You agree.

"Don't encourage them, dove." He says, pouring more water from a bottle he mysteriously produces and handling it to James after Sirius swallows his aspirin down. "Jamie, love, you're not sleeping with us if you're filthy like this. Go take a shower. Same for you, Pads." He points out, his voice not more than a lovely suggestion, but Sirius groans nevertheless.

"I'm not filthy." You hear him protest as he straightens his back up again.

"You do smell like an ashtray, Siri." You say, seeing him pout.

"Okay, grandma, do your crosswords."

"I'm doing sudoku." You say, showing him the half done magazine in your hands, slightly crinkled now because of James, but you don't mind it.

Sirius dismisses your words with a wave of his hand. "Same thing. Come on, Prongs, they don't love us anymore! They've turned eighty in our absence and have to wear dentures now!"

You roll your eyes, feeling the bed shift under James' weight as he gets up and wraps himself into Sirius' side, walking begrudgingly to the ensuite bathroom.

As you watch the door close and hear the shower start, Remus returns to your side, pulling the covers back on his laps and picking his own booklet of crosswords.

"Oh, you are doing crosswords. He wasn't far off." You say, seeing him seek his sweatpants pockets for something. After a moment, he pulls out a secret third aspirin for you.

"Our teeth haven't fallen out yet."

"Don't jinx it." You shrug, taking it from his open palm and swallowing down with the rest of the water. "They looked like they had a fun night."

He makes a sweet noise of agreement, filling a row of squares out. "Not better than ours, they don't."

You rest your head on his shoulder, you have to agree. Not better than yours.

[wimpyvamps]

EARLY RISER - Robert Reynolds

Summary: When met with the sunrise of a new day, and always unable to find himself going back to sleep, bob won't admit the reason he never leaves the bed until you do is because he doesn't want to leave your side. What does he get up to before you finally wake up?

Warnings: domestic fluff, established relationship, post movie, hickeys, reader is not a morning person, sassy bob, hint of throwing up (not even), talk of nightmares/void implied (one sentence), sentry serum effects, usual team shenanigans and mishaps, lazy mornings, kissing knuckles, cuddling

w/c: 1.3k ･ a03 ･ prompt list ･

Bob refuses to get out of bed before you do.

It doesn't matter whether he's tossing and turning, phone illuminating his face in the otherwise dark room while he scrolls mindlessly on social media through different apps and posts he doesn't really care about.

He'll stay up, playing an app game that has him struggling to not rage out while you're soundly asleep and quiet except for the little snores that you produce every so often, making him snap out of it and mumble little praises while he struggles not to hold you as close as possible.

Although not always can he stay focused while playing a game- not even enough to be on his phone.

He almost wishes he could go back to sleep if it wasn't for his brain going wild at every second, which is what usually rendered him awake at early times in the morning before the clock even strikes six.

If he could just relax into it like you did, easing slowly into shallow dreams and whispered phrases, he'd be plastered to you, and asleep.

He wanted to get up- that's what he'd convinced himself. That, surely, if you weren't by his side he'd have been able to make an effort within the silent dawns and quiet footsteps across the cold hardwood floors that lined the tower and refused to creak under his gentle strut towards the kitchen.

That if, just maybe, he'd be in the training room right now practicing his punches and stamina by running on the treadmill for an hour or so to get all the energy out of his system before everyone else awoke.

He could even hear the doors beside your room click open, the heavy morning fatigue of Yelena announcing herself as she dragged her feet to the kitchen, and Ava's slippered steps that he could only hear because she had them on- otherwise she's eerily silent.

Because of the serum, if he really focused, he'd hear the blender that he knew Alexei used to do his usual disgusting morning shake he proclaimed helped with 'everything digestive system needs to be strong!' though Bob immediately regretted trying it the one time he was very convincing- he almost didn't make it to the trash can.

He can hear the frying of Bucky's four eggs and John's three with two sausages beside each other, both mumbling curses and withdrawing because of a pop of the egg splashing them, or at the fact that they both 'had to make breakfast at the time the other was' and, 'couldn't help themselves to wait'

Bob accidentally got in the middle of that, too, although it was much more emotionally scarring than physical, when they both looked at him like they were about to pounce and he was going to be the next meat they fried.

Ava opted for toast, and Yelena scounging for whatever she could find that made it quick and easy while she recovered from getting out of bed.

Bob had learned not to question anything anymore, so he just didn't ask.

And, well, he couldn't because he was glued to your mattress.

To his 'dismay' he'd put it, he was always pleasantly curled up into your side, though sweaty somehow ran cold when beside you and your body heat had tended to him like a sickness had given way just because you commanded it.

Like somehow you reversed the way he worked, rewired his clockwork. Maybe because of sentry feeling dialed down when by your side, almost like an off-switch when he also felt at peace- you'd become hotter then he had.

He had a clue that was why, but he didn't want you to soak in the glory of rendering him so down bad you completely changed his newly wired anatomy. Somehow, while deeply in sleep and unconsciousness, were bossing him around and you refused to stop!

Some days while stuck, he bit his lip to stop himself from giggling at the ridiculous yet endearing thoughts to tease you with when you finally wake up, "such a bad example to set", with his badly done pokerface he'd try to retain but broke immediately into his signature teasing smile seeing how you had deadpanned while being met with his antics so early on in the day.

A grumpy, definitely not morning person being met with the earliest riser in the world. He loved seeing you pout. Unless it was caused by someone else, of course.

What he didn't admit was the way he pressed soft kisses to the top of your head while admiring your sleeping form, stroking you while he closed his eyes and breathed you in for a moment, just to relish in the domestic peace of the birds chirping and the way you were beautifully draped across his mattress, smelling like you. Your personal scent. He was obsessed. It was ingrained in his bloodstream.

One hand over his pillow instead of his waist, which, quite frankly, he took very much offense to- he'd frown playfully in the morning and you'd roll your eyes commenting on how dramatic he is.

These mornings were the kindest to him. That's truly what he hadn't said out loud, not yet.

No nightmares alive and constricting him to mental confines while squirming, just easy sighs and the scent of your chapstick still lingering of when he kissed it off your lips, minty and it made him pucker at the unexpected smell.

He reminisced at the night before, both of you undoing the other, even just through sensual rubbing and touches and the act of closeness while your legs were tangled and hands resting underneath shirts just to be there.

He loved finding the hem, hand traveling up your stomach just to rest it on the soft skin, sometimes pushing back your shirt to kiss a path up to your collarbones.

He didn't even mean it sexually, he just loved the feel of you giggling and squirming below at his gentle fingertips, exploring every inch you'd allow him to and resting his head between your breasts like a pillow.

And you loved the closeness of it, how you felt so intertwined and cared for when he kneaded your sides and planted little love bites some places along the way, in a way of saying you're mine. Hidden, and carved out just for you to see and him to admire.

To provide a grounding. A knowing, that you loved his touch- needed it, even.

And when your eyes finally started to blink open, rubbing them awake with your hand, you were met with the sight of your boyfriend dumbly smiling at you like you had made his morning already.

"Baby?" You grumbled, hardly coherent.

"Yes, my love?" He said while cupping your cheek and rubbing it with his thumb, a gesture he had made habit over the last few weeks when you'd eventually wake.

"mm-" you yawned as he huffed out a laugh, grabbing your waist and pulling you over to make you curl up against his soft t-shirt and solid torso, head resting on his collarbone while he stroked your back

"Did you sleep well?" He mumbled in your ear like he couldn't already tell.

"f'course I did- 'cus you're here" you slap a hand over his cheek when reaching up to touch him, lazy and unintentionally harsh.

You graze the stubble that's hardly there and the warmth that encases his face. You trace his jawline, like you're memorizing it in a sleepy trance.

And he lets you. He watches, doesn't say a word, not until you're back up to his lips and he can successfully draw out a peck to your knuckles, one after the other until you're sighing happily.

And when your breathing evened out again, he didn't shake you or even attempt to wake you up.

He just watched like always, and kept firmly rubbing your back like nothing could ever detach him from you again. He wouldn't let anything- no, he'd stay here with you forever like this. Sleepy and incoherent, all his.

And he'd enjoy every last moment, right up until your alarm rang, and you'd repeat it again the next morning.

thank you for reading :) requests are open! || Marvel Masterlist

[wimpyvamps]

be my, be my baby

summary: Now that the team knows you and Bucky are married, they learn very quickly about your strange marriage. word count: 8.9k+ pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader notes: here is the long awaited part 2 to electric touch! (i hope i live up to the expectations😭) i had a lot of fun writing this, it's a bunch of fun little scenarios of the team learning about your marriage - which is... unconventional to say the least warnings/tags: takes place after thunderbolts*, domestic thunderbolts, bamf!reader, grumpy x sunshine (bucky is sunshine), reader is "brooding" and "cold", bucky is a lover boy, drinking alcohol, smut, slight sub!bucky, slight dom!reader, punishment, but not like punishment punishment, oral (f!receiving... and through the underwear), just the tip, a little bit of biting, slight switch!bucky & reader, bucky is a giver, unprotected piv, creampie, needy!bucky, yelena is a little shit

“If I find out who isn’t cleaning the lint out of the dryer, I will kill you,” you spoke, staring blankly at the team sitting in the common room.

John immediately raised his hands defensively. “Not me—I always clean it.”

Ava shrugged lazily. “I don’t do laundry here.”

Yelena glanced suspiciously toward Alexei. “Dad?”

Alexei frowned, looking genuinely puzzled. “Dryer makes lint? I thought that was feature.”

Bucky snorted, clearly amused. “Alexei, it’s not.”

You narrowed your eyes at Alexei. “It could start a fire.”

Alexei’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. This explains strange burning smell.”

Bob looked alarmed. “There’s a burning smell?”

Yelena groaned dramatically. “Dad. Seriously?”

Alexei shrugged, grinning cheerfully. “Sorry. Next time, no fire.”

You sighed heavily, turning toward the hallway. “Just clean the lint trap.”

“Will do, sweetheart,” Bucky called playfully after you.

You paused briefly, glaring over your shoulder. “Barnes, you’re still on thin ice.”

He smiled warmly. “Noted.” You disappeared down the hall without another word.

Yelena turned, raising a brow at Bucky. “She really is charming.”

Bucky chuckled softly, eyes affectionate. “Yeah, I know.”

John shook his head, voice dry. “Barnes, you have weird taste.”

Alexei nodded approvingly. “Is good taste. Y/N very scary, very effective.”

Bob looked thoughtful. “Maybe you could remind everyone about the lint trap with a sign.”

Ava snorted. “Yeah, ‘clean lint trap or Y/N will murder you.’”

Bucky smirked faintly. “Might actually work.”

Yelena glanced toward the hallway again, sighing softly. “Honestly, I’d believe her.”

Alexei grinned cheerfully. “Good motivator! I clean lint right now.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said dryly, shaking his head as Alexei rushed enthusiastically toward the laundry room. “At least someone listens around here.”

---

You walked quietly into the kitchen, pouring yourself a cup of coffee without a word. Bucky glanced up from his seat at the counter, eyes lighting up slightly. "Morning, sweetheart."

You hummed noncommittally, sipping your coffee.

John groaned quietly. "Do you two ever stop flirting?"

You raised a brow at him, face blank. "We aren't flirting."

Yelena rolled her eyes dramatically. "Right. You just stare deeply into each other's souls every five seconds."

Bucky snorted softly. "That's not flirting. That's basic affection."

Ava sighed heavily. "I hate to see what you two actually think flirting is."

You exchanged a subtle, meaningful glance with Bucky. His lips curved faintly. "Trust me," you muttered dryly, looking back at Ava, "you haven't."

"Is threat or promise?" Alexei asked curiously from the table.

"Both," you replied flatly.

Bob smiled hesitantly. "I think it's nice."

Yelena waved him off. "You're too innocent for this, Bob."

Bucky stood casually, moving toward you and lightly touching your lower back. "Come on. Let's give them space."

John scowled. "See? Right there! Flirting."

You stared at him blankly. "Barnes touched my back. How scandalous."

Bucky shook his head slightly, guiding you toward the hall. As soon as you both were out of sight, he leaned in, voice low. "Wanna give them a real show?"

You smirked faintly, eyes glinting. "Absolutely."

"Perfect," he murmured softly, leaning in close. "Can't wait."

You gave him a small, dangerous smile. "They asked for it."

Bucky chuckled warmly. "We'll make them regret it."

You raised an eyebrow calmly. "Guaranteed."

---

The next morning, you walked calmly into the kitchen, wearing one of Bucky’s oversized shirts and shorts that barely peeked from beneath it. The team was already scattered around the kitchen, drinking coffee, half-awake.

Bucky immediately looked up from his coffee, a slow, appreciative smile spreading across his lips. “Damn, sweetheart. You wear that better than I do.”

You didn’t reply verbally, instead stepping smoothly toward him, pressing your hand lightly to his chest. You leaned down, brushing your lips softly against his cheek before casually whispering, just loud enough for the others to hear, “missed you in bed.”

Bucky’s grin widened, his metal hand sliding slowly around your waist. “Sorry, doll. Early morning training.”

John nearly choked on his coffee. “Oh, come on!”

Yelena’s mouth twisted in clear disgust. “Really? It’s barely seven.”

You turned slowly, settling comfortably into Bucky’s lap. You reached casually for his coffee cup, taking a slow sip. “Problem?”

Ava shook her head irritably. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

You arched an eyebrow calmly. “This is flirting. Yesterday was not.”

Yelena sighed loudly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We take it back. Stop.”

Alexei looked up curiously, clearly confused. “I see no issue. Couple seems happy.”

Bob smiled shyly. “It’s sweet.”

John gestured dramatically toward you both. “They’re being obnoxious!”

You took another slow sip from Bucky’s mug, eyes perfectly neutral. “You specifically requested clarification.”

Bucky squeezed your waist gently, smiling up at you affectionately. “Just giving the people what they want.”

“We definitely do not want,” Ava muttered flatly.

You leaned closer, whispering softly in Bucky’s ear, fully aware everyone could still hear. “Apparently, we’re making them uncomfortable.”

He chuckled quietly, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck. “They’ll live.”

Yelena groaned dramatically, standing abruptly. “Come on, Bob. Let’s go train. Far away.”

Bob glanced uncertainly at you both, following obediently. “Okay.”

John shook his head, leaving the kitchen quickly. “This is torture.”

Alexei remained seated, completely unbothered. “You two continue. I have popcorn.”

You rolled your eyes faintly, sliding smoothly from Bucky’s lap. “Show’s over.”

Bucky pouted dramatically. “Already?”

You shot him a pointed look. “Barnes.”

He smiled warmly, eyes crinkling. “Love you too, sweetheart.”

“Gross,” Ava muttered, finally stalking out after the others.

Bucky watched them leave, smiling faintly. “I think our work here is done.”

You hummed softly, taking another sip of his coffee. “For now.”

---

Someone—Alexei—suggested that the boys have a boys' night out while the girls stay in and “gossip.” You stared blankly at Yelena and Ava, a bottle of vodka and six shot glasses on the coffee table in front of all of you.

“Are we expecting guests?” you asked dryly, nodding toward the glasses.

Yelena smirked, pouring the first shots. “No. These are backups.”

Ava took hers, glancing at you. “Don’t look so excited.”

“I’m thrilled,” you replied flatly.

Yelena raised her glass. “To Barnes somehow convincing you to marry him.”

Ava raised hers as well. “A true miracle.”

You sighed, lifting your own glass. “Sure.”

Yelena downed hers instantly, eyeing you sharply afterward. “Okay. Start talking. When did this whole… you-and-Barnes thing happen?”

You shrugged lightly, sipping your vodka. “Years ago.”

Ava raised an eyebrow. “Where?”

“New York,” you replied blankly.

Yelena squinted suspiciously. “How?”

“We met. We dated. We got married.”

Ava stared at you, clearly unimpressed. “Incredible storytelling skills, Y/N.”

“Did he propose?” Yelena asked, pouring herself another shot.

“Yes.”

Ava groaned loudly. “Details, Y/N!”

You took another slow sip, voice neutral. “He got on one knee and asked.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes, slamming down another empty glass. “You’re impossible.”

---

At the bar, Alexei eagerly placed fresh drinks in front of John and Bucky and slid a soda toward Bob. “Now, Barnes—how did you and our scary friend fall in love?”

Bucky smiled softly, looking thoughtful. “It was gradual. She’s… different, you know? Quiet, guarded. Took a while before she let me see beneath that. Then it was like I couldn’t imagine a day without her.”

John stared at him skeptically. “You’re telling me the woman who threatens murder over lint traps won you over by being quiet?”

Bucky chuckled warmly. “Trust me, there’s a lot more under the surface.”

Alexei nodded enthusiastically. “How did you ask for marriage?”

Bucky’s smile turned warm, eyes brightening at the memory. “We went for a walk in Brooklyn. I took her to our favorite spot near the bridge, got down on one knee, told her how much she meant to me, and asked. She actually smiled.”

John snorted. “I don’t believe you.”

Bucky laughed, shaking his head fondly. “I swear, it happened.”

Bob smiled shyly. “That sounds romantic.”

“It was,” Bucky agreed softly. “She’s amazing.”

Alexei clapped loudly. “Barnes, you old softie! I like this story.”

John rolled his eyes. “I still don’t buy it.”

---

Back at the Watchtower, Yelena was pouring her fifth shot, eyes slightly glazed. Ava was sprawled comfortably on the couch, nursing her own drink. “Wedding,” Yelena slurred, pointing dramatically at you. “What about the wedding?”

You took a careful sip from your own glass, completely unaffected. “Lake. Upstate New York.”

Ava raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Seriously?”

“Yes.”

“Who was there?” Yelena demanded loudly.

“The Avengers,” you replied simply.

Ava stared blankly. “All of them?”

“Yes.”

Yelena narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “And your dress?”

“Princess gown,” you deadpanned, voice perfectly even. “Big skirt, lots of sparkle.”

Ava snorted loudly, dissolving into giggles. “Yeah, right.”

Yelena laughed, shaking her head dramatically. “Now I know you’re lying.”

You calmly sipped your vodka again. “Believe whatever you want.”

Yelena pointed at you accusingly, swaying slightly. “You’re funny, Y/N. You pretend not to be, but you are.”

“Sure,” you said flatly.

Ava smiled lazily, slumped further on the couch. “Princess gown. That’s hilarious.”

Yelena nodded emphatically, pouring another shot shakily. “Almost got us there.”

You shrugged, voice dry. “Almost.”

---

“You too, huh?” Yelena asked, rubbing her forehead as she walked into the kitchen, seeing Walker with his head in his hands.

John groaned quietly. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Ava walked in after Yelena, looking half-dead. “I doubt anyone could.”

Bob glanced around hesitantly. “Did anyone else… hear things?”

Alexei nodded, completely unaffected. “Ah, yes. Barnes and Y/N were very active last night.”

John scowled deeply. “It was nonstop.”

Ava grimaced. “Very loud.”

Yelena sighed irritably, pouring herself coffee. “We need soundproofing. Immediately.”

At that moment, you walked casually into the kitchen, Bucky trailing just behind you. All eyes turned instantly, staring pointedly. You paused, eyebrow raising slowly. “What?”

Yelena narrowed her eyes accusingly. “You both had fun last night, I assume.”

You glanced at Bucky, confused. “What?”

John waved his hand irritably. “Don’t play dumb. We heard you two.”

Ava nodded firmly. “We heard everything.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed deeply. “Wait—what exactly did you hear?”

Alexei grinned widely, completely shameless. “Lots of grunting. Heavy breathing. Banging sounds.”

You stared blankly at them, slowly processing. Then, abruptly, you laughed—a sudden, genuine laugh that stunned everyone into silence.

John stared openly. “Did she just… laugh?”

Ava looked equally shocked. “That was terrifying.”

You shook your head, smiling faintly. “We weren’t having sex.”

Yelena looked skeptical. “Then what the hell were you doing?”

Bucky sighed deeply, rubbing his face tiredly. “She woke me up at 2 am because she couldn’t sleep. We rearranged the bedroom.”

Silence again. Then Alexei snorted loudly, clearly amused. “You move furniture at night instead of sex? Strange married life.”

Bob smiled shyly. “That’s kind of sweet.”

John shook his head irritably. “It’s still annoying.”

You shrugged lightly, pouring your coffee calmly. “Maybe next time we’ll actually have sex. See if you prefer that.”

John grimaced immediately. “No. Definitely not.”

Ava sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’d rather listen to the furniture.”

Yelena raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. “Just warn us next time.”

Bucky chuckled softly, looking fondly toward you. “We’ll see.”

You glanced toward him briefly, voice dry. “No promises.”

John sighed again, clearly resigned. “I hate it here.”

Alexei grinned broadly. “I love it here. Very exciting every day.”

---

You slipped quietly into the dark closet, pulling the door almost closed behind you, leaving just a thin sliver of light. Exactly five minutes later, the door opened again, and Bucky’s silhouette filled the frame. He stepped inside smoothly, shutting the door fully and sealing you both into darkness.

“You couldn’t pick somewhere a little roomier?” he murmured softly, hands finding your waist effortlessly.

“You’re complaining?” you replied evenly, sliding your fingers into his hair.

“Not at all,” he whispered against your lips, pulling you flush against him. “Just observing.”

You didn’t respond, capturing his mouth firmly instead. He pressed you carefully back against the wall, one hand braced beside your head, the other slipping beneath your shirt. Your breathing deepened, mingling together in the tight, quiet space.

His lips moved down your neck, teeth gently grazing your skin. “How long do we have?”

“Fifteen minutes,” you whispered breathlessly.

Bucky smiled against your collarbone. “More than enough.”

Suddenly, bright light flooded the closet as the door swung open abruptly. “What the hell?” John demanded, recoiling dramatically at the sight of you both tangled together.

Bucky turned slowly, sighing irritably. “Walker.”

John stared incredulously. “Why are you—why are you in the cleaning closet?”

You pushed Bucky back slightly, straightening your clothes smoothly, face carefully blank. “Clearly, for the privacy.”

John shook his head, eyes narrowed suspiciously. “That’s weird.”

You stepped forward calmly, brushing past him without another glance. “I’m done here anyway.”

John glanced back at Bucky, eyebrow raised skeptically. “Closet, Barnes? Really?”

Bucky just smirked slightly, adjusting his shirt. “It has its charm.”

John groaned loudly. “Disgusting.”

You walked away without looking back, irritation clear in every step.

---

Later that night, Bucky leaned comfortably against the kitchen counter, pouring coffee. Yelena glanced at him suspiciously. “Closet, Barnes?” she repeated, looking entirely unimpressed.

He chuckled softly. “She picks the locations. I just follow instructions.”

Ava raised an eyebrow. “You have instructions for this?”

Bucky shrugged, smirking faintly. “Once a week. Always in a different spot. She texts me exactly five minutes before—in code.”

Bob looked fascinated. “Why in code?”

“Because she’s paranoid,” Bucky replied easily. “And because she enjoys watching me struggle.”

Alexei laughed heartily. “Ah! Mystery and romance. Very good.”

John shook his head, still irritated. “I still don’t understand why a closet.”

Bucky sipped his coffee, smiling faintly. “Because she’s full of surprises.”

Yelena sighed deeply, rolling her eyes. “You two are ridiculous.”

Bucky just smiled quietly, eyes drifting toward the hall, already wondering where next week would take him.

---

You stood silently in front of the fridge, staring blankly at the empty shelf where your leftover slice of cheesecake had been sitting all day. You closed the fridge door, turned slowly, and moved toward the living room, where the team was sprawled out comfortably watching some pointless TV show. "Who ate it?" you asked flatly, stopping behind the couch.

Everyone turned simultaneously to look at you, blinking in confusion.

"Ate what?" Yelena asked carefully.

"My cheesecake," you said, eyes slowly scanning the room. "It was in the fridge."

John raised his hands immediately. "Not me. You scare me."

"Didn't touch it," Ava said, completely unconcerned.

Alexei shook his head innocently. "I learn lesson after dryer incident. No touching Y/N's things."

Bob shifted nervously, eyes wide. "I didn't even open the fridge today."

Your gaze settled on Bucky, who suddenly looked far too interested in the TV screen. "Barnes," you said slowly, voice dangerously calm. "Where's my cheesecake?"

Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly, eyes flicking briefly toward you. "Cheesecake?"

You stepped around the couch slowly, eyes locked onto his face. "My cheesecake. The last slice. The one you watched me carefully wrap last night and say, and I quote, 'I'm saving this for tomorrow.'"

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Oh, uh… that cheesecake."

Your jaw tightened slightly. "Yeah. That cheesecake."

He smiled apologetically, attempting charm. "I didn't realize it was that important to you."

"Barnes," John said dryly, "you're digging your own grave."

Yelena nodded. "Just apologize and offer to buy more."

You tilted your head slightly, eyes still on Bucky. "It was important enough that I wrapped it carefully and said out loud that it was mine."

Bucky winced slightly. "Sorry, doll. Really."

You stared at him silently for a long moment, then turned on your heel and walked out without another word, leaving tense silence behind you.

Bucky groaned softly, dropping his head back against the couch. "Shit."

John shook his head solemnly. "Nice knowing you, man."

Alexei chuckled, amused. "Barnes, maybe sleep with eyes open tonight."

---

A few hours later, you were quietly sitting cross-legged on the bed, scrolling absently through your phone when the bedroom door opened slowly, revealing a cautious-looking Bucky.

You didn't look up.

He stepped quietly into the room, closing the door gently behind him. "Still mad?"

You didn't respond, gaze still fixed on your phone.

He moved slowly toward the bed, voice carefully gentle. "It really was an accident. I genuinely didn't realize you'd care that much."

Your eyes flicked briefly toward him, cool and unreadable. "You didn't think I'd care about something I deliberately set aside?"

He sighed softly, dropping down onto the edge of the bed beside you. "Okay, yeah, that was dumb. I'm sorry."

You stared at him for a long moment, clearly unimpressed. "Apology noted."

He reached out carefully, gently touching your knee. "I'll buy you another cheesecake."

You raised an eyebrow slowly. "You'll buy me two."

"Three," he offered immediately, lips quirking slightly.

You narrowed your eyes, still cool. "Four."

He chuckled softly, gently sliding his hand further up your thigh. "Fine. Four cheesecakes. Whatever you want."

You finally set your phone aside, watching him evenly. "And?"

He tilted his head, eyes amused. "And… what?"

You leaned forward slightly, eyes locked onto his. "Apologize properly."

He smiled faintly, leaning in to brush his lips softly against yours. "I'm very sorry," he murmured gently, slowly deepening the kiss.

His hand slid higher, slipping beneath the hem of your nightgown, fingers ghosting over the soft fabric of your underwear. He shifted, lowering himself slightly, kissing down your neck, your collarbone, slow and deliberate.

Then he tried to tug your underwear down. Your hand shot out fast, fingers wrapping around his wrist. "Leave them on," you said flatly.

He froze, head lifting slightly. "...What?"

You tilted your head, deadpan. "You want to apologize? Do it through fabric."

He blinked, mouth parting, and you watched the flush crawl up his neck like a slow burn. "...You're serious?" You stared at him. He swallowed. "Okay. Yeah. No, that’s... fair."

You leaned back against the pillows again, arms folding behind your head, gaze steady on him. "You shouldn't have eaten my cheesecake."

"I know," he mumbled, already kissing down your stomach. "Big mistake."

"Massive," you muttered.

He grinned against your skin. "You’re gonna hold this over me forever, aren’t you?"

"That was the last slice," you said darkly.

He nodded solemnly, hands spreading over your thighs, lifting them just slightly as he shifted between them. "I deserve this."

"Yeah," you muttered as he kissed the inside of your thigh. "You do."

He didn’t say anything else. Just pushed your legs wider, settled in, and started slow—open-mouthed kisses against the thin cotton, tongue pressing against the damp spot already forming. He groaned softly, fingers digging into your hips.

You exhaled sharply, eyes falling closed. "You’re not taking them off," you reminded, voice low.

His voice was muffled. "Wouldn’t dare."

His mouth worked over the fabric, patient, reverent, the friction maddening. You twitched beneath him, hips rolling slightly, and he just groaned again, hands holding you still.

"Fuck," you whispered, breath catching when his tongue circled deliberately over the same spot, again and again, like he was trying to memorize how you tasted through the fabric.

He pulled back just long enough to say, "You still mad at me?"

You blinked down at him, chest rising and falling. "...Yes."

He smirked. "Good." Then he ducked back down, licking harder.

You bit your lip, biting back a sound, hands twitching where they were clenched in the sheets.

He was grinning against you now. You could feel it—obnoxious, smug, and cocky. But his tongue moved with purpose, with desperation, with apology. "Four cheesecakes," he breathed, hot against you.

"Five," you rasped.

He nodded, lips dragging slow and filthy across the soaked cotton. "Five. And I’m never eating your shit again without asking."

His mouth stayed pressed to the soaked cotton, tongue flattening and dragging slow as molasses across your clit, so relentless it made your back arch involuntarily. He was determined—like a soldier on a mission. His fingers dug into your thighs, thumbs rubbing idle circles against the soft skin just to soothe, but nothing about his mouth was gentle.

“Mmmph,” he groaned into you, the sound fucking obscene. The vibrations shot through you, sharp as a knife edge. You bit your lip hard, eyes fluttering shut, chest rising faster.

When his teeth grazed just barely over the fabric, you hissed. “Bucky—”

He pulled back just enough to breathe, chin slick, lips shiny, pupils blown to hell. “Yeah, doll?”

You stared down at him, your voice flat. “You're not taking them off.”

He smirked, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Didn’t plan to. I’m just gettin’ creative.” Then he leaned in again, tongue flicking the edge of the wet patch like he was teasing a wound.

Your head thunked back against the headboard with a low growl. “Then stop fucking around.”

He chuckled. "Yes ma'am."

His mouth sealed to your cunt again, tongue pressing hard right through the fabric, and you gasped—hips jerking before his arms locked you in place. He sucked over your clit like he was starving, tongue moving under the barrier, trying to get every drop. You felt the heat surge deep in your core, coil tight and fast, snapping like a tripwire.

“Ah—fuck—” Your thighs twitched in his grip, toes curling, back arching as your orgasm punched through you without warning, hot and sharp and fast. “Jesus—”

He didn’t stop. He kept licking, kept grinding his mouth into you like he wanted to wring every last shudder out of your body. You slapped the headboard behind you, fingers scrabbling for anything to hold.

"Goddamn it, Bucky—"

He finally pulled back, panting, mouth wet and eyes wild. "Still mad at me?"

You blinked down at him, your voice dry. “I hate you.”

He grinned, dragging his tongue over his lower lip. “That’s fair.”

You shoved his shoulder. “Move.”

"Move where?"

“Off the floor, you idiot.”

Bucky let himself be manhandled up onto the bed, his expression smug. You straddled him, still in your underwear, still flushed and breathing heavy.

He leaned back on his elbows, eyes trailing over you with heat. “So… still five cheesecakes, right?”

You didn’t answer. Just shifted, sliding up his thighs until your soaked underwear brushed the thick line of his cock through his sweats. His breath hitched. “Ohhh,” he murmured, eyes dragging up to your face. “So that’s how we’re playing it.”

You ground down slow, dragging your cunt along the length of him with maddening friction. “You wanna apologize? Start here.”

Bucky groaned low, fingers gripping the sheets, jaw tight as you rolled your hips again—dragging yourself along him, the wet cotton of your underwear catching perfectly over his cock.

“Fuck, baby…” he muttered, hips lifting into you. “That’s not even fair…”

You shrugged, moving again. His cock twitched under you, hard and pulsing, and you just kept going, using him, teasing yourself, grinding down like you had all the time in the world.

His voice dropped, rough and coaxing. “C’mon. Just the tip.”

You paused, eyebrow lifting. “You think that line still works on me?”

He grinned. “We’re married. I don’t need lines. I just need you to move those pretty little panties to the side.”

You stared at him. He held your gaze, cocky but not pushy, like he knew you'd give in eventually. You exhaled, dragged your underwear to the side slowly, and sat back down—just enough to line him up, just enough that the head of his cock brushed against your slick entrance.

Bucky cursed under his breath, hands flying to your hips. “Shit. Just like that—don’t move yet—fuck.”

You shifted slightly, and the tip slipped in. You both inhaled sharply.

“Jesus, you’re warm,” he breathed, eyes fluttering half-shut. “Just let me—”

You tensed when he pushed an inch deeper. “Bucky—”

“I know,” he whispered, voice tight. “I know, just—fuck, just a little more.”

You felt the stretch as he eased in slow, inch by inch, until you were nearly full and your breath stuttered in your chest. “I said just the tip,” you muttered, nails digging into his chest.

He gave a sheepish, breathless laugh. “Baby, I’m sorry—I got greedy. You’re just—fuck, you’re so good.”

You opened your mouth to snap something, but then he bucked his hips up, slow and deep, and you gasped, thighs trembling. “I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured, hand sliding behind your neck to pull you down, lips brushing your jaw. “I’ll fuck you nice, yeah? Just let me—”

He surged up again, and your protest turned into a moan, your hands flying to his shoulders. “Fuck, Bucky—”

“Yeah,” he breathed, eyes blazing now. “That’s it, doll. That’s what I wanted. Been thinking about you all night.”

His hands gripped your thighs, guiding your movements as you started to ride him in earnest—slick, filthy sounds between you, the wet drag of your cunt around his cock making his head drop back with a groan.

You leaned forward, panting, chest brushing his. “You think this fixes it?”

“No,” he rasped, lifting his hips into you hard. “But it’s a start.”

You bit his shoulder, just enough to make him hiss. “You’re an asshole.”

Bucky grunted as your teeth sank in, low and sharp, and his hands clenched around your hips like he was holding back a groan.

"Yeah," he muttered, voice rough against your ear, "I know."

Then he flipped you. Fast. Smooth. Like he’d been thinking about it for a while. One moment you were on top, grinding down with full control, the next your back was pressed to the mattress and his weight settled over you, thick and hot and deep inside. His hands framed your face like he was scared you'd vanish if he blinked.

You blinked up at him.

His mouth was parted, breath ragged. "Let me."

You didn’t say anything. Just stared, waiting.

He leaned down, kissed your throat. "Gonna make it up to you, promise." His hips rolled into you slow, deep, like he was trying to learn every sound you made from the inside. He cursed under his breath.

"God—you're so fucking wet," he groaned, forehead dropping to yours. "Felt like heaven even before I was inside. Now it's—shit—"

You exhaled through your nose, fingers digging into his back. “You're stalling.”

That got a growl out of him. One of his hands slid down between your bodies—his vibranium one, cold at first, then warming quick from contact—pressing flat against your stomach as he fucked in deeper.

"Feel me right there?" he murmured, nose brushing yours. "Right where I belong."

"Talk less," you snapped.

He bit back a grin, lips dragging down your neck. "Yes ma'am."

And then he got serious. His rhythm changed—harder, slower, the kind that made your toes curl and your thighs twitch involuntarily. His human hand slid down your leg, hooking under your knee, pressing it up toward your chest.

You gasped when he hit deeper.

"There we go," he muttered, mouth grazing your collarbone. "Right there. That it?"

You didn't answer. Couldn't. Your nails dug into his shoulder and he moaned when you clenched around him.

His vibranium hand moved again—between you now—thumb dragging down to rub you slow, firm. Perfect pressure.

“Fuck—”

“Shh, I got you,” he breathed, kissing your cheek, your jaw, his thumb never stopping. “Let me take care of you, baby. Just let go for me, yeah?”

You hissed through your teeth when he thrust deeper, thumb circling faster.

“I can feel it,” he whispered, hips snapping, breath hot against your ear. “You’re close. Come for me. Right now. Please.”

Your breath caught. Your legs shook. You grabbed the back of his neck and arched hard against him—

“Fuck, Bucky—”

"That's it—fuck, that's it, there you go—"

You shattered beneath him, tight and pulsing, and he didn’t stop moving, just kept fucking into you with a low groan, arms shaking, trying not to come too soon.

His hips kept driving into you, deep and slow, your walls still fluttering around him in the aftermath of your orgasm. His breath stuttered against your neck, jaw clenched so tight you could feel the tension in every part of him.

“Fuck, baby—” he gasped, voice rough, almost pained. “You feel so good when you come… fuckin’ squeezing me like that, shit—”

You didn’t say anything, just slid your hand up to grip his hair and tugged hard.

Bucky groaned, eyes fluttering shut, his cock twitching deep inside you. “Please,” he rasped. “Let me make you come again. Wanna feel it again. Wanna feel you break on me.”

You dragged your nails down his back, slow and deliberate, and his hips stuttered. “You’re so fucking greedy,” you muttered.

He nodded against your throat, lips brushing the skin there. “Yeah. For you. Always.”

His vibranium hand slid back between your legs without hesitation, thumb finding your clit like he was born for it. The pressure was perfect—firm, relentless—and the real hand tightened on your thigh, holding it high, spreading you wider, deeper.

"That's it," he whispered, watching your face now, eyes desperate. "C’mon, doll. Give me another. Want it so bad—"

You grabbed his jaw, forced his gaze to stay locked on yours. "Make me," you ordered.

Bucky let out a strangled sound that was half-moan, half-growl, and then he was grinding into you harder, thumb never letting up, hips moving with exact, perfect control. "I will," he swore, voice shaking. "I'll fucking wreck you if you let me. I’ll make you come so hard you forget your own name. Please let me."

You didn't reply, just held his stare, teeth digging into your bottom lip when the pressure started to climb again. Fast. Too fast.

"God, you’re perfect," he groaned, kissing the corner of your mouth, your cheekbone, your jaw. "So fucking perfect like this, underneath me, letting me take care of you—fuck—please come for me, baby, please—"

You gasped, head tipping back as your second orgasm slammed through you, sudden and brutal, making your whole body tense, your back arch up off the mattress.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back. “Oh, fuck—yes, yes, baby, just like that—goddamn—”

You were still pulsing around him when he finally let go, hips snapping hard one last time before he buried himself deep and groaned, loud and raw, like it was being torn out of him.

“Fuck—fuck—” he gasped, voice breaking, whole body shaking as he came inside you, hands gripping you like he’d fall apart otherwise.

You were both breathless, sweat-slick and trembling, tangled together like the only thing anchoring either of you was the other.

He finally slumped over you, chest heaving, lips brushing your collarbone.

"Apology accepted?" he mumbled against your skin.

You didn’t answer.

He lifted his head slightly, blinking blearily down at you. "...Still mad?"

You grabbed his chin again, hard, and kissed him—slow, rough, deep. You bit his bottom lip on the way out, and he whimpered into your mouth. Then you exhaled and muttered against his mouth, “I’m thinking about it.”

Bucky grinned like he’d just won the goddamn lottery. “I can work with that.”

---

You stared into the kitchen cabinet, mentally checking off your list. Tea, honey, cough drops, ibuprofen…

Yelena leaned against the counter beside you, squinting suspiciously at the pile of items already gathered on the countertop. "Are you building a chemical bomb?" she asked dryly.

You slowly turned your head toward her, giving her an utterly blank look. Yelena met your gaze, unblinking. After a long pause, you finally spoke. "Barnes is sick," you said flatly.

Yelena blinked once, then snorted. "Sick? He sneezed. Like, twice."

"Three times," you corrected evenly. "And he coughed."

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "It's called allergies."

You ignored her, calmly collecting your armful of tea, medicine, and honey. "He's sick."

Across the room, John glanced up from the couch. "Did Barnes actually get hurt or something?"

"No," Ava said blandly from her chair. "He has a slight sniffle. Now Y/N thinks he's dying."

"He's not dying," you replied calmly, pausing at the hallway. "He's sick. There's a difference."

Alexei chuckled loudly from his seat. "You take good care, Y/N. Barnes very delicate."

Bob smiled gently. "Should we check on him later?"

You stared blankly at him. "Absolutely not." With that, you vanished down the hallway, arms still full.

---

You nudged the bedroom door open carefully, stepping inside to find Bucky sitting on the bed, looking perfectly fine aside from slightly messy hair. He glanced up, eyebrows lifting at the pile of items you were carrying. "What's all this?"

"You're sick," you announced flatly, placing everything neatly on the bedside table.

Bucky blinked, clearly confused. "I coughed like twice, doll."

"Three times," you corrected again, placing your palm gently against his forehead. He smiled faintly, rolling his eyes, but leaned into your touch anyway.

"You feel a little warm," you murmured, carefully pulling your hand away.

He sighed, shaking his head. "I'm literally fine."

You gave him an unimpressed stare. "You're taking medicine. And drinking tea."

Bucky chuckled quietly. "Or what, you'll force-feed me?"

You gave him another slow, steady look. "Yes."

He smiled softly, clearly amused but deciding not to push it. "Fine."

You poured him a cup of tea, stirring honey into it calmly before handing it to him. Bucky took a sip, shaking his head with faint amusement. "You know," he began lightly, "you're kinda cute when you're fussing."

You narrowed your eyes slightly. "Drink your tea, Barnes."

He smiled warmly, leaning back comfortably against the pillows. "Whatever you say, sweetheart."

You sat carefully beside him, arms crossed, watching until he drank at least half the tea. After a long silence, he glanced at you with a slight smirk. "You gonna keep staring at me like that?"

"Yes," you replied evenly.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head again. "I'm really okay, doll."

You ignored him, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair off his forehead gently. "Just shut up and let me take care of you."

Bucky sighed, but his eyes softened. "Alright. But I'm really not that sick."

"Shut up," you repeated calmly.

He laughed quietly, but settled back further into the pillows, clearly deciding to humor you for now.

Satisfied, you reached over to the bedside table, calmly handing him two ibuprofen. He took them without protest, eyes crinkling in quiet amusement. "Anything else, nurse?" he teased gently.

You gave him another steady stare. "Sleep."

He chuckled softly, obediently closing his eyes. "Yes, ma'am."

You watched carefully until his breathing evened out, the tension in your shoulders finally easing slightly. Quietly, you reached out, carefully brushing your fingers along his cheek. "You're an idiot," you murmured softly.

He didn't respond, already drifting peacefully.

You sighed gently, settling back comfortably against the pillows beside him, silently watching over him anyway.

---

The kitchen was alive with quiet morning chaos. Yelena sat perched on the counter, lazily peeling an orange. Alexei and Bob were at the table, hunched over a puzzle like it was a high-level mission. John nursed a black coffee with an expression like he hated being alive, and Ava scrolled through her tablet, earbuds in.

You were standing near the stove, sipping from your mug and keeping mostly to yourself, as usual.

Bucky breezed in behind you, freshly showered, hair still a little damp. He leaned in, pressed a kiss to your temple, and murmured softly, “Love you, sweetheart.”

You didn’t look at him, just gave a neutral hum, calm and flat. “Don’t forget your knife. You left it on the bathroom sink.”

He smirked faintly, unfazed. “I got it.”

He gave your waist a soft squeeze and slipped out without another word. A beat of silence passed before Yelena narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger toward you dramatically. “You never say it back.” You didn’t respond, and just took another sip of your coffee. “No, seriously,” she said, sliding off the counter and walking closer. “He says it, like, all the time. And you just… ignore it. Or change the subject. Or give him directions about weapons.”

“Bucky knows how I feel,” you said flatly.

“That’s not the point,” she insisted. “You don’t say it back.”

Ava looked up from her tablet. “She’s right. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say ‘I love you.’”

Bob blinked slowly, clearly distressed. “You don’t love Bucky?”

“She does,” Alexei said cheerfully. “She just shows it by keeping him alive. Very romantic.”

John chuckled, voice dry. “I’m just impressed Barnes doesn’t seem to care.”

“Or notice,” Ava added, raising an eyebrow.

Yelena smirked suddenly, eyes lighting up with a spark of mischief. “Let’s make a bet.”

Everyone perked up immediately.

“Go on,” John said warily.

Yelena grinned, turning toward you. “You start acting like him. All clingy and affectionate. Tell him you love him, kiss him on the cheek, hold his hand, all that. We’ll see how long it takes before he notices you’re doing it on purpose.”

You stared at her blankly. “That’s stupid.”

“Which means you’re doing it,” she replied smugly. “Everyone in?”

Bob raised his hand nervously. “I think Bucky will be happy. He might cry.”

“Two days,” Ava said, stretching. “He notices in two days.”

“Five,” Alexei guessed. “He notices in five.”

John shook his head. “Nah, he doesn’t notice at all. Guy’s completely blind to affection. He’ll just think she’s finally caved.”

Yelena looked at you expectantly. “Well?”

You sighed, finished your coffee, and set the mug down. “Fine.”

Ava blinked. “Wait. Really?”

You shrugged, walking toward the hallway. “If I’m going to make all of you shut up, might as well commit.”

“Try smiling too!” Yelena called after you. “For extra shock value!”

You raised a hand behind you without turning around, a middle finger casually extended. The group collectively laughed. Bob looked equal parts excited and nervous. Alexei was already drawing a tally chart on the whiteboard for the bet.

John muttered into his coffee. “This is gonna be weird.”

Yelena just grinned wickedly. “This is gonna be fun.”

---

It was a few hours later, mid-afternoon, and the team was scattered throughout the Watchtower common area again—some half-working, some definitely not. You wandered in casually, phone in hand, and spotted Bucky at the kitchen island, assembling what looked like a very questionable sandwich.

You approached quietly, standing beside him. He glanced at you with a small smile, clearly not expecting much more than a grunt or maybe a snide comment. Instead, you reached up, cupped his face with both hands, and leaned in to press a soft, deliberate kiss to his cheek.

“I love you,” you said casually, voice light.

Bucky froze mid–bread placement. His eyes flicked toward you, brows pulled in slightly. “…You okay?”

“I’m great,” you replied smoothly, brushing your fingers across his jaw like it was the most normal thing in the world. “You look handsome today.”

He blinked. Hard. “…Okay,” he said slowly. “Thanks?”

You smiled—actually smiled—and gave his arm a light squeeze before walking off toward the couch without another word.

Across the room, Yelena choked on her water, coughing violently into her sleeve, John’s head whipped around like he’d just heard a gunshot, Ava paused mid-scroll, Bob audibly gasped, and Alexei muttered something about “strange wind today.”

Bucky watched you sit down, still looking faintly baffled. He shook it off, returning to his sandwich. “Okay,” he muttered to himself. “She’s just in a weird mood.”

Behind him, Yelena was already marking one line under the Day 1 tally chart.

---

It was later that evening, just after dinner, and the team had migrated to the common room. Bucky was sprawled on the couch, legs up, lazily flipping through a worn paperback. You sat nearby, feet propped on the coffee table, arms crossed, as usual.

Ava was in the corner with her headphones. Bob and Alexei were locked in another intense round of chess, and John was pretending not to watch over their shoulders. Yelena was watching you with the intensity of a predator tracking prey.

You waited a few seconds before casually getting up and walking toward Bucky. He glanced up, half-expecting you to make some dry comment about his book or the state of his posture. Instead, you leaned over and gently tugged the book from his hands, closing it without a word. He sat up, confused, and before he could ask what you were doing, you slid right onto his lap.

Everyone froze.

Even Alexei abandoned his chessboard.

Bucky blinked, completely thrown off. “Uh… hi?”

You rested your arm around his shoulder, pressed a kiss to his temple, then said calmly, “Missed you today.”

His eyebrows lifted slightly, like his brain was rebooting. “We were literally together for most of the afternoon.”

You shrugged. “Still.”

He stared at you, clearly processing. “Are you… feeling okay?”

“I’m perfect,” you replied, voice soft.

Then, just to twist the knife, you tangled your fingers with his and laced them together on his lap—just like he always does to you when he’s being annoying and affectionate. Bucky narrowed his eyes slightly, head tilting. “…Okay, now I know something’s up.”

You blinked at him innocently. “I can’t love my husband?”

“I mean, yeah, but—” he cut off, squinting. “Since when do you say stuff like that?”

“Since now,” you said smoothly.

Yelena snorted from the armchair, trying—and failing—to disguise it as a cough. Ava slowly raised a single eyebrow. Bob was practically vibrating. Alexei whispered, “plot twist.”

Bucky looked between you and the rest of the room, clearly sensing something was going on but not quite sure what. “Right,” he muttered. “This is fine. Totally normal.”

You leaned in again, kissed his cheek, and murmured, “Love you, baby.”

Bucky stared at you like you had just declared war on gravity. “…I’m calling Sam,” he muttered.

You smiled faintly, settled back in his lap like you belonged there—which, to be fair, you did—and glanced toward Yelena.

She was holding up two fingers silently.

You gave her a barely-there smirk. Let the games continue.

---

It was later that night. Most of the lights in the Watchtower had been dimmed, and the common area was washed in the soft blue glow of the TV no one was really watching. You were curled up next to Bucky on the couch—next to, not just near, which was already suspicious.

You let your head rest lightly on his shoulder, fingers brushing his knee in a slow rhythm, and then leaned in, lips brushing just below his ear. “You look tired, baby,” you said quietly. “You want me to wash your hair for you later?”

Bucky turned his head slowly, eyes narrowed.

You stared back, innocent. “I’m gonna take a shower,” you said sweetly, like you hadn’t just dropped another bomb. You stood up, kissed his forehead, and walked out of the room without another word.

Bucky didn’t move at first. Then, slowly, he stood up, stretched once, turned to face the rest of the room, and said, flatly, “okay. Who poisoned her?”

The team froze.

“Or brainwashed her,” he added, pointing. “Walker?”

John looked offended. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Then who’s trying to body-swap her?” Bucky continued, not missing a beat. “Because that—” he gestured down the hall where you’d just disappeared— “is not my wife.”

Alexei opened his mouth.

Bucky held up a hand. “Nope. I love her. I love her. I love every sarcastic, terrifying, emotionally unavailable part of her. I didn’t fall in love with someone who calls me baby and offers to wash my hair on a Wednesday night.”

Yelena clapped a hand over her mouth.

Ava cracked first. “Okay, okay—it was a bet!”

John groaned. “Goddammit, Ava.”

“I knew it,” Bucky said, exasperated but mostly amused, rubbing his face. “How long did you think it’d take me to notice?”

“Minimum was two days,” Yelena muttered.

“I said five,” Alexei chimed in proudly.

Bob raised his hand. “I said never. Sorry.”

Bucky held out his hand. “Pay up.”

“What?” John frowned.

“You all lost,” Bucky said, already deadpan and halfway to smirking. “I noticed before two days. And I know there was money involved.”

Yelena groaned but reached into her pocket. “Ugh, fine.”

One by one, they all handed him bills. Bob looked like he didn’t want to participate, but even he dug out a few crumpled notes. Bucky accepted the pile without flinching.

Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the room.

---

You were finishing brushing your teeth when you heard the soft knock—followed by the door cracking open.

Bucky stepped inside, holding a wad of folded bills in one hand. “I figured out the bet,” he said, calm as ever. “Apparently I’m very observant.” You raised a brow, clearly unbothered. He tossed the cash on the bathroom counter. “So I’m taking you to Coney Island tomorrow.”

You blinked.

His lips tugged up in a soft smile as he leaned casually against the doorframe. “And you’re not allowed to act weird and lovey the whole time, because that’s my thing. You just get to stand there looking scary while I win you plushies.”

You stared at him for a beat, then rolled your eyes. “Fine.”

He grinned. “Love you, sweetheart.”

You smirked slightly. “Don’t get sentimental on me.”

He winked. “Too late.”

---

The next morning, the team was gathered in the kitchen, half-asleep. Bucky strolled in like he hadn’t just robbed them all the night before, casually sliding his arm around your waist as you stood beside the fridge. “Morning,” he said brightly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You were wearing a dark green sundress. Soft, strappy, flowy. And silent. Every head turned. The room collectively froze.

John choked on his coffee. “Is that—?”

“—a dress?” Yelena finished, blinking rapidly.

You adjusted the strap without looking up. “Yeah. Problem?”

“No,” Ava said slowly. “It’s just… unexpected.”

“Looks good,” Bob offered kindly, eyes wide.

Alexei raised his mug. “Color of war. I approve.”

Bucky, grinning like he’d won the lottery, clapped his hands once. “Alright, team. While we—” he gestured between you and himself, “—are off having a very well-earned day at Coney Island, you are going to clean the tower.”

John immediately protested. “Wait, what?”

“Team bonding,” Bucky said cheerfully. “You’re welcome.”

“You’re serious?” Ava asked, eyebrows raised.

“Deadly.” He pointed toward the kitchen. “Walker, Bob, Alexei—kitchen duty. Dishwasher, floor, counters. Top to bottom.”

“Not fair,” John grumbled, grabbing a sponge.

“Yelena, Ava,” Bucky continued, turning to them with a smirk. “You’ve got windows. Inside and out.”

Yelena squinted. “All the windows?”

“Every single one,” you said blankly, sipping your coffee.

“Cool,” Ava muttered. “This is abuse.”

“You’ll live,” Bucky said, already guiding you toward the door. “Don’t forget the hallway floors!”

---

An hour later, Yelena and Ava were upstairs with a bucket of water and zero motivation, grumbling as they passed through the hallway. Eventually, Yelena slowed in front of your door. She looked around. “No one’s watching,” she said, grabbing the handle.

“We’re supposed to be cleaning,” Ava said halfheartedly, but followed her in anyway. What they found stopped them in their tracks. “...What the hell,” Ava whispered.

The room was soft. Soft. Candles on the shelves. Warm fairy lights draped above the bed. Throw pillows. A fuzzy blanket folded perfectly at the end of the mattress. It was like a Pinterest board collided with a bookstore in fall.

And the photos—there were dozens. On the desk, taped to the wall, propped on dressers. One of them caught Ava’s eye first.

It was a wedding photo.

You were in a massive princess-style gown. Glittering skirt. Sweetheart neckline. Hair done up. Bucky in a black tux, smiling down at you with the softest look imaginable.

Behind you both?

Every single Avenger.

Yelena squinted at it. “...That’s real.”

“I thought she was joking,” Ava whispered. “That night with the vodka. I thought she was messing with us.”

“Same,” Yelena muttered. “She said it with a straight face. I figured it was sarcasm.”

Ava leaned in closer. “She looks... happy.”

Yelena looked at her. “She looks terrifying.”

“That is her happy,” Ava clarified.

Another photo—smaller, older. You and Bucky in front of a bridge, clearly in Brooklyn. You’re sitting on the hood of a car, his arm around you, your hand in his.

“Okay,” Yelena said slowly. “Maybe they are gross and in love.”

Ava crossed her arms, glancing around the room again. “It’s weird.”

Yelena pointed at the bat-cat plush. “That’s new. Barnes must’ve caved at some carnival.”

John stuck his head in the doorway. “Barnes doesn’t spend twenty bucks on stuffed animals.”

Alexei ambled in behind him. “Looks handmade. Maybe he stole it?”

Bob picked it up carefully. “Glow-in-the-dark eyes. Cool.” He flipped the tag. “No price.”

“Great,” Yelena muttered. “Mystery doll.” Her gaze shifted to the sketches pinned above the desk. “And when did Y/N start a fashion line?”

Ava touched one of the mission-gear designs. “These are good.”

John lifted the sundress sketch. “That’s the one she wore this morning.”

Alexei whistled. “She makes her own combat suits and dresses? Multitasking queen.”

Bob set the plush down. “So… she sews in secret?”

“Explains the needles I keep finding,” Ava said.

Yelena tapped a separate drawing—sleek black tac-suit with red accents. “This would look sick on me.”

John smirked. “Ask nicely. Maybe she’ll let you borrow it—after she murders us for trespassing.”

Ava grabbed the plush again, squinting. “Something’s off. Bucky didn’t buy this.”

“Then who did?” Bob asked.

Alexei snapped his fingers. “Secret admirer!”

Yelena rolled her eyes. “Barnes would’ve burned the tower down.”

Ava flipped the plush over. A tiny embroidered ‘PP’ sat under one wing. “Initials?”

“Pepper Potts?” Bob offered.

“Pepper sends Stark-tech, not plushies,” Yelena said.

John stepped back. “Whatever. Let’s bail before they get back.”

"Wait!" Yelena said, holding up a smudged notebook she'd grabbed from beside the desk. "This has more."

Ava narrowed her eyes. "Y/N’s sketchbook?"

Bob immediately looked nervous. "We probably shouldn’t—"

Yelena already had it open, flipping through. "Too late."

John crossed his arms. "What is it? More dresses?"

Yelena tilted the notebook to show the page. "That's me."

They all leaned in. Sure enough, a detailed sketch of Yelena in a tactical outfit took up the left page. Black vest, reinforced pants, sleek holsters, high boots. The right page had her in a fitted trench coat and wide-legged pants, stylish but still practical, with sunglasses pushed up into her hair. Notes were scribbled in the margins. Fabric types. Zipper placements. A few faint stars.

Ava leaned closer. "Wait. That's me."

The next set of pages showed Ava in two variations—one combat-ready with a reworked SHIELD-style jacket and lightweight gear, and the other in an oversized blazer and boots, holding a coffee cup with a scowl on her face. Both were captioned lightly in small, precise handwriting. Ava: structured / minimalist. Mood: constantly annoyed.

John let out a soft laugh. "She got that right."

Yelena turned the page again. "Oh my God."

Bob blinked. "What?"

"Alexei," she said, holding it up. "In a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts."

Alexei grinned proudly. "Is good look. Classic."

The next page had him again, this time in reinforced armor, but with a faint note at the top: He’s gonna ignore the weight distribution anyway, so make it fun.

"She thinks I do not notice that note," Alexei said, squinting. "I do."

John reached over. "Let me see mine."

Yelena handed him the sketchbook. He raised an eyebrow at the drawing. "Okay… that’s me. Tactical, obviously. And this—" he pointed to the opposite page, "—is a hoodie and cargo pants?"

Ava peered over his shoulder. "With dog tags. And fingerless gloves. What are you, a streetwear catalog?" John rolled his eyes but kept flipping.

Bob found his own sketch and blinked. "Oh."

It was soft. Literally. A cable-knit cardigan, dark jeans, and boots with his hair swept back. He looked like a grad student. The caption read: Bob: cozy nerd. Bookstore vibes. May cry if yelled at (true).

Ava smiled. "Okay, that’s accurate."

"There's one of each of us," Yelena said, still flipping. "She’s made outfits for all of us. Combat and civilian."

Alexei was nodding along, thoroughly impressed. "She is team mom. Team mom with knives."

Bob looked at the sketches taped to the wall again. "Some of these match the ones in the book."

Yelena paused on a new page. "Okay. This one’s blank, but it has my name at the top."

Ava leaned over. "‘Yelena – formal.’ She’s planning something."

John frowned. "Like what? A gala mission?"

"God, I hope not," Yelena muttered. "I’ll set something on fire."

Alexei was still examining the walls. "She never shows us this. All this time, she hides it like secret spy craft."

"Because she doesn’t want us in her business," Bob said quietly.

Yelena shut the notebook, careful now, and set it back exactly where she found it. "We should go."

"No shit," John muttered. He headed for the door.

Ava glanced around one more time. "The wedding dress wasn’t a joke."

"Nope," Yelena said, deadpan. "Princess gown. Confirmed."

They filed out, one by one, back into the hallway. Bob looked guilty, Alexei looked proud, and John looked vaguely stressed. Yelena closed the door behind them with a soft click.

John sighed. "Alright. We say nothing."

"Nothing," Ava agreed.

Bob nodded quickly. "Absolutely nothing."

Alexei shrugged. "I say she should make me suit for next barbecue."

Yelena elbowed him. "Shut up, Dad."

They started walking, quiet for a beat. Then Yelena muttered, "still not over the dress."

Ava shook her head. "I think I need a drink."

i've actually been writing a few other oneshots for this series- i've even wrote a oneshot about you and bucky first meeting (also a fix-it for civil war... it's also 20k+ words and will be split into two parts but that's besides the point)

anyways, i don't really know what to call the series/masterlist - should it just be electric touch or something else? on ao3 i have it listed as grumpy x sunshine as a placeholder, but i don't really like it. if you have any ideas, please, please, please let me know! and if you want to see any scenarios post/pre-thunderbolts you can send in an ask!

[wimpyvamps]

Firstly your writing is fire, be proud of yourself 🔥

Secondly, hear me out on this what about a clingy reader .. like idk maybe they were touch starved but once they get comfortable around the team they're just absolute super glue to whoever they're around 🙏 pretty please if you may -🐬

YESS THIS IS SO CUTE AAAAAAA

Thunderbolts x Gn!Teen!Reader

✦ Thunderbolts With a Clingy Reader Headcanons ✦

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

✦ John Walker

You follow him around more than most, always hovering just a little too close, and at first, he’s kind of confused. “You uh... need something?”

But when he realizes it’s just your way of feeling safe? He doesn’t question it again.

He’s not super touchy, but he starts letting you hang onto his sleeve or stand behind him when things get loud.

Acts like it’s no big deal but definitely notices when you’re not around.

“Where’s the kid?” he asks one day, frowning like he didn’t mean to care that much.

Tries to help in practical ways. Carries your bag without asking. Buys extra snacks.

If you ever fall asleep leaning on him, he goes completely still and dead silent so he doesn’t wake you.

✦ Bob Reynolds

The first time you cling to him during a panic moment, he just wraps his arms around you like he was made for that. No hesitation, no awkwardness. Just calm, quiet presence.

He learns your patterns quickly.

“You hold your sleeve like that when something’s wrong,” he says softly one day. “Want to sit with me a while?”

Lets you shadow him everywhere. You trail behind him in the halls and he opens every door for you like it’s natural.

Sometimes he starts talking about the stars or light or memories when you’re anxious, just to distract you.

Doesn’t mind if you cling to his side, or hold his coat, or fall asleep mid-sentence near him.

He just keeps you grounded, like a quiet anchor.

✦ Alexei Shostakov

You grab his coat when you’re nervous, and he beams like you’ve given him a medal. “Ah! You seek comfort from mighty Red Guardian. Of course!”

Talks about you like you’re a tiny warrior who just needs rest before battle. “They have strong heart. Brave soul. Just need nap.”

Carries you sometimes. Like literally picks you up and says, “You are small. Is no problem.”

Tells loud, exaggerated stories to cheer you up, even if you’re half-asleep on his arm. “One time, I fought bear and man at same time. True story.”

Treats your clinginess like a badge of honor.

“They trust me. Means I am good father figure, da?”

✦ Ava Starr

You cling to her once and she straight-up panics inside. Doesn’t show it, just stiffen. “...You okay?”

But once she realizes it helps you calm down, she softens fast.

She’s not great with hugs, so she lets you cling to her sleeve or sit next to her in silence.

Starts to expect it, even waits for you to come find her.

Opens up more around you over time. Quietly mutters,

“It’s... actually nice. Having someone who sticks.”

Keeps her distance from most people. But not from you. You’re the one person allowed in her space, no questions asked.

✦ Yelena Belova

“You're like a cat. Always underfoot,” she says with a smirk when you won’t stop following her, but she never asks you to stop.

If you’re overwhelmed, she pulls you away from crowds and gives you gum, sunglasses, or a hoodie to hide in.

“There. You are anonymous. Like little spy.”

Lowkey likes being needed. Won’t admit it out loud, but when you cling, she leans in.

Gives you that rare, soft smile she usually hides.

Will absolutely knife someone (figuratively... probably) if they talk bad about your behavior. “Say that again. I dare you.”

✦ Bucky Barnes

At first? He’s kinda... confused by it.

You start standing close, brushing shoulders, clinging to his jacket sleeve, and he just looks at you like: “...You good?”

But once it clicks that it’s not just a phase, that it’s your way of feeling safe? He never pushes you off.

Doesn’t talk much about it, just lets it happen. Shifts so you’re always in arm’s reach.

One time you grabbed his metal hand during a stressful moment. You didn’t even realize it, but he did. Yet he didn’t pull away. Just curled his fingers around yours and kept walking.

He doesn’t do grand emotional speeches, but sometimes he’ll quietly say,

“You can sit by me if you need to. I don’t mind.”

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

AAAAAAAAARGHHHHHH I LOVED WRITING THISISISISISI

[wimpyvamps]

Hiya! Just want to say thank you for being such a talented writer! I love all your works so far, and look forward to seeing what kind of brilliance you create in the future. If you're still up for requests, could you do some hcs about how the group acts with a teen!reader who has a quieter, more shy, and sensitive personality?

AAA TYSSMMMM, and yes totally I loved writing thissss.

Hope you guys enjoy!!!

✦ Thunderbolts x Shy & sensitive Teen!Reader Headcanons ✦

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

✦ Alexei Shostakov

Alexei immediately assumes he needs to "fix" your shyness. He’s like “Ah! You are quiet because you are nervous! I will show you there is nothing to fear!” and proceeds to loudly, obnoxiously drag you into activities.

He genuinely means well, but his big, boisterous personality can overwhelm you at times. When you quietly step back or shrink away, he panics and tries to tone it down, but... he's not great at subtle.

Over time, he learns you actually like sitting quietly with people and that you open up best when it’s just the two of you, doing something like a puzzle or eating snacks. He starts seeking out those calmer moments with you.

Alexei loves to brag about you to the others like “My little one does not need to speak loudly to be strong! They are mighty in their own way!”

He becomes super protective. If anyone teases you about being quiet, he’s the first to defend you with a terrifying dad-glare like “Say it again. I dare you.”

✦ Bucky Barnes

Bucky gets you instantly. He’s also a quiet, sensitive person at heart, so your calm energy makes him feel safe. He’s actually super comfortable around you because there’s no pressure to constantly talk.

He’s the king of soft, silent gestures. handing you a snack, holding out a book he thinks you’ll like, sitting with you in comfortable silence. You don’t need words with him.

When you do speak, even if it’s just a few words, Bucky always listens like it’s the most important thing in the world. He never talks over you.

He’s very patient when you struggle to open up, and he never rushes you. “Take your time, kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

If someone makes you uncomfortable, Bucky is silently at your side, his presence alone enough to make people back off. He’s your quiet guardian.

✦ Bob Reynolds

Bob is very soft with you. He knows what it’s like to feel like you take up too much space, so he makes space for you in the kindest ways.

He talks to you in a gentle voice, always making sure you’re okay with the conversation or the environment. “You wanna step outside for some air? It’s a little loud in here.”

He’s ridiculously proud when you trust him enough to open up. The first time you make a joke or initiate a conversation with him, he literally beams for the rest of the day.

Bob likes doing quiet hobbies with you, drawing, reading, watching clouds because it gives you both a chance to bond without the pressure of talking constantly.

He’ll fiercely defend your softness. “There’s nothing wrong with being sensitive. It means you feel things deeply. That’s not weakness.”

✦ John Walker

At first, John is unsure how to interact with you. He’s more used to loud, headstrong people, and your quiet nature throws him off.

He accidentally overwhelms you sometimes (he talks with his hands a lot, kinda barks orders) but the moment he sees you shrink back, he instantly softens. “Hey, hey, sorry, kid, didn’t mean to snap. You good?”

Over time, he starts actively seeking your input. “What d’you think? I wanna hear your opinion.” Even when you give a short answer, he takes it seriously.

He’s super protective of you at school or out in public. If anyone teases you for being quiet, John is immediately in their face like “Problem?”

John’s love language with you is doing acts of service, fixing your stuff, carrying your bag, making sure you’re fed, because he knows words aren’t always your thing.

✦ Yelena Belova

Yelena is so gentle with you. She’s playful and teases you sometimes, but never in a way that pushes your boundaries. She loves your softness, it reminds her of the part of herself she didn’t get to grow up with.

She’s really good at pulling you out of your shell, but she never rushes it. She’ll offer you snacks, invite you on small adventures, and let you say no without making a big deal out of it.

She starts purposefully sitting next to you during movie nights, quietly offering you bits of popcorn and checking in with a soft glance.

When you finally feel comfortable enough to call her your friend or share something personal, Yelena acts like it’s the biggest honor in the world. “You trust me? Good. I will kill for you now.”

She lowkey starts teaching you self-defense, not to make you aggressive, but to help you feel more confident. “Soft is good. Soft and safe is better.”

✦ Ava Starr

Ava is very attuned to people’s emotions, so she immediately senses your discomfort in loud or overwhelming spaces. She naturally shields you from attention without making it obvious.

She’s not super talkative either, so your quiet energy actually makes her feel more at ease. She’ll quietly sit with you, offering a calm presence and a cup of tea.

Ava can sometimes come off as a little intense, but around you, she softens significantly. She slows her breathing, lowers her voice, and always gives you space to speak.

She becomes really protective over you. If someone dismisses you for being quiet, Ava cuts them down with a sharp glare and an even sharper comment. “Just because they’re quiet doesn’t mean they don’t have something to say.”

She loves doing peaceful, grounding activities with you. Gardening, listening to music, long walks in silence, because she knows you feel safe when things aren’t loud.

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

AAAAAA I love you guys so much for leaving requests I swear<333

Hope this was alright for what you asked!!

[wimpyvamps]

Logan's self-described "worst trait" is his tendency to think out loud. Without realizing, he mutters something under his breath. In most environments, he is self-aware enough to consciously stop himself from doing just that.

Sometimes, however, he gets a bit too... distracted. Too distracted to police himself. Especially when you're around. It is usually small statements– an unrefined thought just passing through.

"Your lipstick is smudged..."

You stop mid-sentence, having been gabbing his ear off while he stares at your lips. "What was that?"

"Nothing, it's just–" Logan cuts himself off, kicking himself for being so obvious. The reckless side of him has a thought and before he can think it through, he acts.

His own thumb is brought to his lips, dipping behind them to wet it on his tongue. You stand still, not fully realizing what's happening. He runs the rough pad of his digit along the outline of your cupid's bow, wiping away the misplaced pigment.

You don't acknowledge this action and jump right back into your story, but you pray his senses don't pick up on your racing heart or the heat radiating off of your face.

Moments like these happen more and more often. It's the affect you have on him, allowing Logan to let his guard down enough to let his innermost feeling slip. Sometimes you catch it, sometimes it comes out as a low mumbling.

"Smell good... Is that lotion..?"

"Your skirt is so short today..."

"Skin looks too soft..."

"Need to touch..."