#avengers cast angst

[rainydayathogwarts]

Valley-girl Charm - Bucky Barnes

Summary: In which reader from the 1940s knows just how to play the damsel in distress to get exactly what she wants in the modern age after coming out of the ice. Or should I say: 3 times Bucky did things for you, and the 1 time you did something for him. SMUT!!!

2.9k wc

Natasha knew body language better than anyone. Tony knew how to play the knight in shining armour better than any hero in the old tales they told.

So of course, they were the first ones to pick up on the little game you were playing. It had started the second you were back from under the ice, charming anyone you spoke to with your 1940's valley girl accent, using words you'd only hear in old television. Men fell at your feet the second words came out of your mouth, offering you anything you'd dream of, and it didn't have anything to do with the super-soldier serum in your system either. You politely declined every time, but eventually understood the kind of power you held.

The second charming method they noticed you had came from your gorgeous smile. The moment you looked up at someone through your long lashes and beamed widely, looking so innocent and kind, people were willing to give you the clothes off their back if you asked. Of course, you never accepted anything from complete strangers. The two Avengers had come to their conclusion that you were still accustoming yourself to the norms of the new world, unaware of your ability to bewitch people with your natural appeal, however it was not long before they were proven wrong.

They didn't know if it was the fact that you were so familiar to Bucky and Steve, a comfort amongst all things new that made them more vulnerable to do anything for you, or if it was just your flirt, but they were immediately intrigued after seeing your interactions with the soldiers. They'd seen the way you spoke to the two soldiers just after coming out of the ice and hadn't noticed anything unusual apart from the fact you'd essentially come out of a time machine. As the weeks, months passed, they knew your intentions.

It had started by witnessing a simple conversation between you and the two soldiers. "Well I'm all nerves about going to speak to Agent Fury about that last mission. He's going to get all bent and blow a fuse." The two soldiers stood either side of you turned to face you in such synchrony it had almost been comical. Bucky was the first to speak, "Don't worry doll, I can go speak to him if you'd like. You shouldn't be the one he chews out." "Anyway," Cuts in Steve "We were the ones who screwed up honey, not you." From across the kitchen, Natasha rolled her shoulders back, nudging Tony with her elbow lightly as she stirred sugar into her coffee. Their eyes widened slightly at the wide smile sprawling itself on your face, peeking back and forth between the two men.

"Really? You boys don't have to do that just for me." Steve straightened his posture impossibly at your comment, but it was Bucky who beat him to the comment. "Honey, I'd do anything for a broad like you." You cocked your head to the side, a hand coming up to rest on his muscled bicep. "Why, thank you Sergeant. You dreamboats are too kind". Natasha's eyes trailed over to Tony when the three of you finally left, the two boys accompanying you seemingly wherever you wanted to go. "See, I didn't understand half of that conversation, but they are wrapped around her finger." Tony hummed "She's smarter than we thought."

The second time they witnessed it, they were convinced that you did it on purpose, their image of you quickly turning from innocent and naive to a femme fatale, manipulating men into thinking they're doing things for you because they want to. You'd all been hitting the bars, only missing Thor from the team. You had been occupying a large round booth, wedged between Bucky and Natasha, giggling with her about the man she found attractive sat at the bar, whilst the four men at the table shared stories. Natasha's eyes were quickly drawn to your hand as you placed it on Bucky's thigh, the man putting his own hand over yours almost instantly as he glanced down at you. You returned his look, grinning widely before turning back to your conversation with the tall red-head.

Natasha carried on with the conversation, pretending not to notice the intimate moment you'd shared with the soldier, but her jaw went slack nonetheless when Bucky leaned closer to you not two minutes later, whispering "You're drinking a margarita, right?" And rising from his seat when you nodded at him, humming in agreement. Bucky joined the group once more with two drinks in hand: one for him and one for you, smiling proudly when you cocked your head to the side, insisting he didn't have to. He only wrapped one muscled arm around your shoulders as a response, pulling you closer to him despite the humidity of the bar.

When you leant your head on Bucky's shoulder, stealing a glimpse up at him though, Natasha was no longer assured that those tricks up your sleeve were to get what you wanted. Perhaps you used them to get who you wanted. She sipped her drink instead of making a comment, afraid to scare you away with any questions when you'd only just begun getting close to her. Maybe in a couple of weeks during a girls' trip to the bathroom she'd bring up your relationship with him.

That girls' trip didn't end up being in a bathroom, but in a changing room, because next time something so significant had happened, the entire team was training together for the first time in a while, and Steve had declared that you were all doing a round robin. If you were still in the military, sure - you'd have moaned about it, throwing your head back in disappointment and hoping your supervisor hadn't seen you complain. But now, with the super-serum in your bloodstream? Well, you supposed you could be in a worst position, like Tony's, who didn't have any super-powers or spy training. With so many of you on the team, it'd take numerous matches for everyone to have their turn against each of their teammates, so after a quick warm-up, everyone had settled down on the mats of the martial arts training area to watch.

Soon later, everyone who was sat on the mats was trying to catch their breath as two team-mates sparred on the mats. Tony stood after Thor and Steve's match, adding another tally next to Thor's name on the big planning whiteboard before turning around with a wide smirk on his face. "Last match of the day." Bucky hopped up from next to you, sticking a hand out for you to take. Hesitantly, you took it, only for him to pull you up to your feet. "Us?" You asked, only for him to nod. "Well, I'm gonna let you have it, Barnes." You teased, tightening your ponytail. "Oh come on, might as well reach for the sky now, y/n."

"Steve, what the hell are they saying?" Called out Clint, leaning over to see the blonde man from across Natasha. "She's gonna hit him hard, and he says she should just give up now." Replied the man, taking another sip from his water. Tony picked up the whistle next to him, blowing into it, before scrambling back to watch with the others. The second the time started, Bucky faltered - how the hell was he supposed to hit you? But there was already a fist flying to his face which he barely dodged, instead swatting your wrist away from him.

You stared at him intensely from behind your fists, shielding your face, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "Come on Barnes!" Steve yelled from the sidelines. Bucky's face mirrored yours, his eyes laced with confusion, but he threw a fist anyhow, going for a body shot instead of your face. Nevertheless, you moved to the right, dodging his fist, and grabbing his arm as leverage to help you jump up. You threw your right leg over his shoulder, and behind his neck, swinging your other leg over his second shoulder, and crossing it over your right leg to trap his arm between your legs and over your torso. You tensed your quads as much as you could, hoping the triangle choke would work on him, but instead he used his metal arm to push your thigh over his head as much as he could. It was working, slowly but surely.

"Fuck" you muttered when he slipped his head in the gap between his shoulder and your thigh. You were now essentially hanging onto his arm, both legs over one shoulder. Before he could react, you flexed your core muscles, and sat up onto his shoulder. You released his arm, jumping off his shoulder so you landed behind him, and softly push-kicked him the back so he stumbled forward. As he did though, one hand reached behind him and grabbed your ankle, so you were dragged along with him. You slipped onto your back as he fell forward but Bucky was quicker, getting up instantly to straddle your hips. He leaned forward, above you, trying to get his arms around your neck to get you in a chokehold, but the second you giggled, he shot back up again.

"Sorry, that tickled." You insisted, hand coming to your neck to play the part better, a broad smile gracing your lips. Just as Bucky opened his mouth to say something, you reached out to grab both his hands, bucking your hips up and turning to the side to flip him over. You were on top of him in the blink of an eye, mimicking his movements as your arms snaked around his neck. You successfully put him in the same chokehold he had tried to put you in, but when you twisted your wrists, the blood supply to his face immediately cut off and you felt his hand tapping you twice on the shoulder. "You cheat." Was the first thing he said after his gasp for air, but you only shrugged, rolling off his chest. "I was only using sources available to me."

You giggled as you ran off to catch up to Natasha, already waiting for you by the doors to the changing room. "So..." She started, quite obviously. "So... What?" You echoed, looking up at her curiously, shimmying out of your shorts. You turn around so your back faces her as you struggle out of your sports bra, wrapping your towel around your sweaty body before spinning back around. "You and Bucky. This flirting has been going on for weeks. Do you like him, are you dating?" You laughed, cocking your head to the side. "You don't know?" She shook her head quickly, sitting down on a bench. On the other hand, you just opened one of the doors to the clean showers, calling out to her.

"Well, before the ice, me and Buck knew each other from the military, we got along well. The only problem was, he was my superior. I couldn't possibly make a pass at him and be known as the soldier who had the nerve to try and lay paws on her superior. But there was always something there..." At the lack of response, you stuck your head back out of the shower, to make sure Natasha was still there. "Natasha?" The spy looked at you with her mouth wide open in shock. "What!? And you never told me?" You shrugged, turning the water on. "Well I thought y'all knew."

Her silence told you enough about how much she really knew. As she muttered to herself on the other side of the door, you submerged yourself in the water, massaging shampoo into your hair, hearing flashes of "before the ice" and "he was your superior?" so you assumed she was still talking to you, even though you ignored most of what she said. You barely heard her goodbye and the sound of the changing room door opening and closing one more time, before the sound of water running was all you could hear.

"Y/n? Natasha let me in, she said you were done." You perked up at the sound of Bucky's voice, exclaiming "Here!" He approached the sound of your voice, stopping when he realised Natasha had deceived him. He stood in front of the dark wooden door, watching the steam dance in the space above your door. "Is it anything urgent?" The towel hanging from the door disappeared into the other side, and Bucky realised shaking his head wasn't enough of an answer because the door swung open to reveal you, soaking wet and completely naked with the exception of the small towel that barely covered your private parts. "Oh! Hey you!" You exclaimed, taken aback at his proximity, yet smiling all the while.

Bucky stood frozen in place, mouth ajar as he search for his words. "I'm sorry, I- I, you look beautiful." You giggled at his words, approaching his shirtless, freshly showered figure. His long hair was wet and skin was glistening, and he only wore a pair of jogger shorts to conceal himself. You have to admit, they weren't doing a great job and covering the growing tent in them. Your eyes trailed back up his body to meet his, smiling at him again. "Anything I can help you with, Sergeant?" Bucky's hands hesitantly rose to meet your hips. "I-No it's fine." Your hand met his and you dragged him with you three steps backwards, back into the shower you had just exited. You reached your arm behind him, locking the door once more.

"You're sure?" Bucky shook his head, pulling your hips flush against his as he slammed his lips against yours in a needy kiss. You gasped as your towel started to unravel, but you didn't try to stop it, wrapping your arms around Bucky's shoulders instead. When he separated from you, opening his eyes, they immediately widened, and his bit his lip, poorly trying to suppress a moan. You pushed Bucky back gently, urging him to sit on the small wooden bench. He sat down, legs spreading to make space for you between them, but when you started lowering yourself onto your knees, he shook his head frantically, begging "No, no, none of that, doll. I just want you sweetheart."

The cold metal of his arm flush against your skin chilled you as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you up to sit on his laps. He grunted, frantically pulling down his cotton shorts. You aided him at doing so, gasping when his cock sprung out, the absence of any underwear surprising you. You immediately took his dick in your hands, watching as Bucky's face scrunched up in pleasure. You guided him inside you, sitting down flat on his dick, but you couldn't help the loud moan that escaped you as you did. You whined, beginning to drag yourself up and down his dick, gradually speeding up your movements. Bucky's hips met your frantically, until his pace was so quick you couldn't keep up. "Buck!" At your plead, he wrapped an arm around you, using his metal one to support both your weights on the wall, and he stood up, walking forward until your back was pressed against the cold shower wall.

You gasped at its feeling against your skin, jerking forward once more when Bucky's metal hand came up to play with your nipples as his speed increased once more. Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, cussing loudly before biting his bottom lip in fear of being heard. His hand left your breasts, instead blinding searching for the shower handle. When he found it, he immediately pushed it upwards, the instant noise of water shooting out moderately covering the sounds of pleasure you made. Your wrapped your arms around his tighter, grinding your pussy onto his pelvis as he thrusted into you, your clit rubbing on the short hairs near the base of his dick.

You busied yourself pressing kisses on Bucky's neck, the water squelching between your bodies as you passionately moved against each other. "Fuck y/n" Bucky moaned, chasing your lips, panting against them once he met them in a deep kiss. Your hands cupped his face as you kissed, deepening it impossibly, and his metal hand went straight to your clit, rubbing circles on it as fast as he could. Your leg twitched and you didn't have time to warn him before you were cumming all over him. "Shit!" Bucky grunted, pulling out of you as he balanced you on the wall, his hand coming to jerk himself off quicker. You put your hand over his, legs still wrapped around his torso, teasing his sensitive tip as you stroked him up and down. With a deep shudder, white stripes of cum shot out of him, painting your belly white, only to be washed away with the shower's stream.

Bucky put you down gently, making sure you wouldn't slip before cupping your face with his large hands and bringing you in for a much slower, more passionate kiss. You pulled away from him, keeping him close as you peppered kisses all over his face. He laughed, trying to pull away from you and saying,

"We should have done this about 80 years ago doll, don't you think?

#rainydayathogwarts #mcu imagine #mcu phase 4 #mcu memes #mcu cast #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu angst #avengers #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #marvel smut #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #the avengers #marvel headcanons #bucky fic #buckybarnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky smut #the winter soldier #winter soldier #steve rogers #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader

[chelleztjs18]

Dandelions (S.J)

Scarlett Johansson x Actress Female!Reader

Summary: When love comes between friendships.

Warning: None, just a little angsty fic.

A/n: Hello! It feels good to be back here with my very first fic of Scarlet Johansson. It was inspired by this sweet song but for some reason i feel angst from it so i wrote this. I hope you like this fic! To angst lovers, i have more coming. :D Happy reading!

Main Masterlist

Her fingers rake through your hair, giving you soft touches on your head that takes you to cloud nine. You know you fell in love with her since the first time you both met at a charity event. Since then you both became inseparable. She has been so sweet and caring to you.

Having a picnic with her under the tree on a field of dandelions on a beautiful day feels definitely so nice and wakes up the butterflies in your stomach for real.

Her green soothing eyes locking gaze with you. The smile that was patched on her face is insanely beautiful. You feel okay when you see her smile. You look at her lips then back to her eyes. Your mind quickly plays all of the smiles and laughter when you two spend time together.

Your heart beats like crazy. She looks back deep into your eyes. You love the feelings of her body on you. You can feel her front lying on yours. One of her hands lay flat on your chest and prompt her head up. Her fingers run smoothly on your face and give a rush of soft electric waves all over your body. It's the best feeling and you can never get enough of it.

Gosh, you adore her so much. Her voice is like a melody to your ears. All the teasing sweet words she says and you love the little vibration from her body onto yours when she laughs at your jokes.

Her eyes drinking the view of you under her with awe. It gets so hard for you to breathe when she is looking at you. The sunlight for sure makes her beauty look even more flawless.

Her hair sparkles perfectly as if you see stars even though it's broad daylight.

"You look so beautiful." You told her as your right hand cups her left cheek.

"And you are so adorable." She replied, followed with a giggle as she held your right hand then kissed it softly.

"I love how I feel when I'm with you. You have made me happier since we met. I love how I am when you are with me. Promise me that you won't ever leave me." She adds and her eyes twinkles. You see her cheeks blush.

"I won't go anywhere. I promise." You smile and give her assurance she needs.

Your heart beats fast and slow at the same time as soon as you see her face get closer to you and her lips meet yours. You love the softness brushes your lips and how she doesn’t let go of the kiss for a few seconds. You can say it was a few seconds of a trip to heaven and back.

Every kiss you had with her felt so real, including this one until you heard a familiar voice interrupt everything. “Aaaand, CUT!” You feel her lips leave yours right after that. You internally complain, NO..NO, you secretly hate it.

“That was a wrap, everybody!” Pat, the director announced and everybody on set cheered and clapped at the same time.

Lizzie smiles at you and then quickly gets up, so do you. Trying hard to hide how you really feel. You smile back at her as Pat comes to the both of you.

“Lizzie, Y/n! That was awesome! I really love the chemistry both of you have! Every single kiss scene you two did really warmed my heart. Are you sure both of you are just friends?” Compliments flowed freely out of his lips followed by a joke and a teasing smirk.

All you and Lizzie did was laugh. You laughed nervously but you saw her laugh with no problem. Gosh, you wish you could hear her thoughts now to find out what her laugh means and that blush, why did she blush?

A few minutes of talk later, Pat finally left you both alone.

“Wow, today was easier than I thought. So, I’ll see you next week for lunch as we planned?” The brunette asks with an excited tone and a huge smile as her hand reaches your hair to clean some dandelions off your hair..

“Oh yeah, of course. You better not cancel on me.” You replied with your little joke. “Of course I won’t. By that time, I will already miss you, silly.” She responds. You see her smiling again but then you realize it wasn’t for you as she waves to the direction behind you.

You turn your head curiously only to find Robbie smiles at Lizzie while talking with some of the cast. Your stomach churns, your heart aches. You tried to hold back a disappointed sigh. Yes you are jealous. How could you not?

You have been secretly falling in love with her and have been there for her. Of course, by the time you decided to make a move, you also saw that Lizzie and Robbie started to see each other. You retreated yourself from your plan. All you could do now is to accept the fact that being her best friend is the only way to stay close with her and to love or care about her.

“Ohhh, Le boyfriend is here.” you tease Lizzie with a fake french accent and it makes her laugh. She rolls her eyes playfully. “Yes, y/n. Don’t be jealous, you know that I see you more than I see him, right? Plus you’ll see me again next week.” Lizzie replies with her own version of teasing. She hits your arm in a frisky way as she giggles. You and Lizzie love teasing each other casually.

”I know, I know. So how are things with you and Robbie?” You pitched the question to change the topic. “We are good. He’s just busy with his band and sometimes we argue a little but we handle it pretty well so far. It has its ups and downs.” Lizzie tells you her private life comfortably.

As she speaks, Lizzie notices a familiar face. “Oh Scarlett’s here, y/n.” she informed and her elbows nudged yours knowingly for sure that the blonde actress is here for you. Lizzie waves at her excitedly before she smiles at you and then proceeds to give you a kiss on your cheek and bids her farewell.

"I'll see you next week, okay? See you, y/n. Also, that was a good kiss scene." you feel Lizzie’s hand gently rubs up and down your upper arm followed by a teasing wink.

Your mind always wonders if Lizzie really meant all the teasing banter she does to you or it was just a pure joke to her. Sometimes you swear that she looks at you in the eyes differently as if she has feelings for you but you always think maybe you were wrong and never take any actions to it. You don’t want to ruin the friendship.

You are lost in your thoughts as you watch Lizzie do little small talks and laugh with Scarlett.

Scarlett’s voice greets you excitedly as soon as she gets in front of you. “Hey, y/n?” the older woman instantly gives the warmest hug possible. “Hi Scar.”

“How was the last filming today?” Scarlett asks while trying to keep herself together as she looks at your eyes then to your lips before her gaze gets back to your eyes again with her hands in her back pocket to contain how she really feels. She knows what scene you had to do with Lizzie today. The second you told her about it a few months ago, her heart kept wishing that it would be her who does the kissing scene with you, not Lizzie nor another actress in your other movie you play.

Her heart belongs to you. She has been secretly keeping her feelings to you all this time. You never tell Scarlett about your feelings with Lizzie but she sometimes notices how you look at the brunette whenever the three of you hang out.

Scarlett always looks at you the same way you look at Lizzie but you never notice it. She sees forever in your eyes while you are sure that Lizzie is the love of yours.

Little that you know Scarlet wishes for you all the time. When you are looking at her, she never feels so alive and free but to you, when Lizzie looks at you have never felt so happy.

“It was good and easy.” you answer and your cheeks blush as soon as you remember how the kiss felt to you. You smile awkwardly. Scarlet looks at you dearly with a little smile, thinking how happy she is everytime she sees you.

Scarlett has been venting out with you about her marriage for a while. You know in the back of your head every story she told you while she cried and you held the tissue box. He takes her for granted. You have been a very good listener and have been there for her even when she was going through her divorce until it was finalized a year ago. All the sweet things you do and care give her made Scarlett fall for you.

A lot of what if’s halt her steps to confess her feelings for you. Worry fills her heart that you will walk away from her if she does so. Her mind sometimes wonders if you will like an older divorced single mom, let alone being in a relationship with one.

“How’s the launching preparations for your new product? I’m so excited for you. Are you ready? Thank you for inviting me to have lunch with your business partner.” your hands do a little exciting clap expressing how thrilled you are.

Your words stop her bouncing thoughts in her mind. “Of course! Yes, I’m ready. Are you?” she tries to answer it as if she was not thinking nothing about you, followed with a smile.

“Yeah, let’s go.” As soon as you are about to leave, Scarlett stops you. “Wait, y/n. You forgot something."

You turn around and find her holding up to you a dandelion. "I forgot what, Scar?"

"We are in a dandelion field so at least you have to make a wish and blow it, silly. Here, one for you and one for me." Scarlett suggests with a playful smile.

"Oh, i don't know about that but okay, i'll do it." You smile with agreement and take the dandelion.

You close your eyes and make your wish, so did she.

Both of you blow the dandelions at the same time. You wish on every one that Lizzie will be yours someday and Scarlett wishes that you will be hers.

A/n: Welp, that's all for today folks! I hope u enjoy it. Let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next!

Cheerio!

Taglist: @madamevirgo @musicinourlips @unstable-sapphic-hoe @fanboy7794 @chloe7076 @b0mbdotc0m @trikruismybitch @ichala @californianwhiterabbit @honey-sweet-hiraeth @imfuckinggenius @sxfwap @chaekhan @daenerys713 @luvmcgrath @stupidsapphicsstuff @pattypavo @marvelwoman-sugarbaby @imdoingsortagay @savethefbees @frvny @franfineashell @heyyoweveryone @ygtft-chen @yaaskasey @sweeet-likeeee-cinnamonn @paumxmff @dopeyouth @beaniejennie @ineedafinghug @idkwhatimwriting @lucydiibi @mainly-rebloging-fics-i-like @gloriousfoxruins @grxvitye @mcubreakdown101 @aos22 @wandanatstan @paulawand @yeeterthekeeper @femalehomosexual666 @snowdrop1026 @modernmonalisa @nothingisrealanyway @idamaemann @sweeterlust @royalityofmultifandom @playboysaleen @peabrain112 @gwhaley127 @harleyswanda @bodhi-j @darth-rain @cristin-rjd  

#Spotify #scarlett johansson #mcu cast #marvel cast #avengers cast x reader #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x y/n #scarlett johansson angst #scarlett johansson fanfic

[thund3rst0rmm]

Avengers Incorrect Quotes #3

Natasha:: Anyone d-Pietro:: Done?Steve:: Drained?Tony:: Depressed?Loki:: Disliked? Natasha::  -done with their work... what in the world is wrong with you people

#avenger reader #marvel reader insert #marvel x reader #marvel x you #avengers x teen reader #avengers x teen!reader #avenger x reader #avenger!reader #avengers cast x reader #avengers gen fic x reader #avengers imagine #avengers reader insert #avengers x child reader #avengers x child!reader #avengers x male reader #avengers x reader #avengers x reader angst #avengers x you #avengers x reader series #avengers!reader #soulmate au avengers x reader #yandere avengers #yandere avengers x reader #the avengers #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #tony stark #pietro maximoff

[marvelgirlstories]

Masterlist

George Weasley

Stucky

Tom Holland and Family

Harry Potter - nothing yet

Marvel

Marvel cast - nothing yet

Fic Recs

#marvel cast #the avengers #paddy holland #harry holland #sam holland #steve rogers #bucky barnes #george weasley #tom holland #stucky #masterlist #holland family #fan fiction #fanfics #oneshot #smut #fluff #angst

[historiaxvanserra]

Whatever Our Souls Are Made Of

Pairing: SingleDad!Rhys x Reader

Summary: After his mate and the mother of his son abandons them, The High Lord and Nyx are left alone and wanting.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: allusions to sexual assault, allusions to depression, abandonment, broken homes (y'know keeping it light, in all seriousness this is not all angst it's quite sweet actually).

The sky is painted in hues of lavender and mauve and the flowering ivory clouds shade Velaris in a perpetual state of dusk. The silvery light of the waxing moon seems to cast you in a gentle opal light as you approach the opulent manor. The High Lord’s townhouse is nestled in the heart of the city of starlight and wreathed in the colors of twilight; a slate facade that looks as though it is crowned in green, climbing ivy and night-blooming jasmine frame the large bay windows on the ground floor. From here you can see the large stained-glass window on the top floor, light refracts and it casts a myriad of dancing light onto the stone below-- dappled pinks and roses that fracture and give way to amethyst and indigo.

You spare a look to your aged companion as she breaches the threshold of the High Lord’s residence and, on unsteady feet, approaches the ornate wooden door and knocks thrice. 

You remain for a moment a solitary figure at the entryway of the property, contemplating the series of events that led you here. Mother above, you chastise yourself. The thought occurs to you then, that perhaps you had made a mistake in coming here; that you should have given yourself more time, that you should have remained in the quiet solitude of the library where the world seems like a bitter memory. 

“Come, girl.” Madja’s voice is tired and impatient as she beckons you closer with the wave of a crooked finger. “Don’t just stand there.” 

You swallow thickly, bowing your head in obedience and you notice how her eyes soften as you approach the door tentatively.

“Nervous?” the old woman asks, you feel her eyes on you-- examining and critical.

“A little,” You admit, eyes downcast as you loose a shaky breath, “I haven’t left the library besides for training in quite some time.”

You stare down at the sleeves of your faded pewter robes as they billow in the evening breeze; the silver embroidery around the cuffs has begun to fray and the layers of fabric gather about your waist, the pleats have been poorly ironed and the heavy fabric falls over the curve of your hip haphazardly and pools to the floor in a swathe of heavy cotton. Shame pools in your stomach at the sight of your slippers as they peek out from the skirts of your robe. 

It’s about time you asked Clotho for a new set of robes you think. 

“You’ve met him before, no?” Madja’s voice breaks the tenuous peace you have found in those moments. You look up at her and a deep set frown graces her weathered face, “when you first came to Velaris?”

The visions fall on you like night; the Moonstone Palace saturated in onyx and jade, the reflections of your face in the marble of the throne room floor, the sentries as they dragged you before the High Council. The sounds of your screams and a sea of rubies and pearls as the bodice of your dress is torn away from your heaving chest-- all that red. Terrible and red. 

Hewn City had always been cruel to you. You, a useless daughter to an ambitious man. The dreams are less vivid now but the sound of footsteps on marble still haunts you. 

“Yes, it was him who brought me to Velaris-- after-afterwards,” You acquiesce to her questioning, eyes set on the light beyond the frosted glass panes of the onyx doorway, “though I doubt he remembers.”

Your avenging angel.

Madja looks at you carefully, taking account of you before she nods to you in silent acknowledgement. 

The door to the High Lords townhouse opens with a flourish to reveal Morrigan. She’s more beautiful than you remember, radiant even as the dark shadows of sleep cling to her. Her golden hair hangs in loose waves over the delicate curve of her shoulder and though the deep umber of her eyes meets yours in a warm inviting stare as she utters your name. 

She knows your name. 

“Come on in from the cold.” she beckons you with the curve of a slender hand. You smile politely as you cross the threshold of the house. The wards fall away as you pass through into the foyer and the smell of mandarin and night blooming jasmine flood your senses. 

The foyer to the townhouse is truly beautiful; a testament to the fine artistry and craftsmanship that seemed to define Velaris’ art district. The walls are paneled wood, painted in a shade of twilight that can only be found here, in The Night Court, and the burgundy carpet so rich in color that it reminds you of a blood moon, the oil paintings that hang on the walls seem to exude an air of majesty unlike anything you’ve ever seen. 

In this room night reigns triumphant and you behold it all with a sense of wonder and awe. A careful deference to the love and care contained between these walls. It is a home that has been truly cherished by the people that live here. 

“Did Madja tell you why you had been summoned here?” Morrigan’s voice is soft and sweet and the feeling of her hand on your robed arm pulls you from your thoughts. 

“Sorry - I - uh” I stutter, glancing between her hand on my arm and the unyielding warmth of her gaze. “No she didn’t, only that there was a position in the High Lord’s household that Clotho recommended me for.”

“It was my recommendation actually,” Morrigan smiles proudly, letting her hand drop to her side idly. “Clotho just happened to agree.” The words leave her lips with the ghost of a smirk as she recalls the conversation between her and the High Priestess.

The last time you had spoken to Morrigan would have been in Hewn City, all those years ago. You abandon yourself to those days; when you had been the cursed daughter of a capricious Lord. The girl you were died under that mountain. The woman that stands in her place had been forged of blood, and splintered bone-- made strong by violence and tempered by time.

You nod solemnly and cast a glance to Madja who watches on in quiet curiosity. 

“Rhys is upstairs,” Morrigan says softly to you both, gesturing up the staircase to the upper level of the house, “I’ll fetch him down”. 

You notice then how troubled Mor looks. The rings around her eyes are pale purple and blue and her skin, once radiant, has become pale and sallow. She begins her ascent up the stairs with a small wave of her hand signaling Madja to follow. From here you can see a singular light that pierces through the blanket of the dark that shrouds the upper levels of the house.

Mor regards you once more as Madja passes her on the stairs and points towards the ornate door that leads to the antechamber at the heart of the house. “Go on in, we won’t be a moment.” In a flourish of golden blonde hair and crimson Morrigan winnows away and leaves you to linger in the foyer for a quiet moment. 

The smell of cherries and marigold shades the air in her absence.

Voices, disembodied and distant from the upper levels of the house draw you into the heart of the house.

The antechamber of the High Lords townhouse is a beautiful living room, plunged into near darkness spare the slivers of jade light that dapple the dark walls from the emerald chandelier, even in the darkness you can make out the dark marble of the hearth that is draped with moonflowers and ivy. The low backed chairs are elegant and worn from use and there are books strewn about the room and a small library contained neatly in the alcove. 

Your eyes find the painting hung above the hearth; immortalized on oil and canvas the High Lord of Night and his Lady. The High Lord is painted in a deep navy tunic and the silver paint mimics the delicate embroidery favored by the Velarian tailors in The Rainbow. His violet eyes shine bright against the dark. 

He is a thing of dark beauty, you think.

In this light, his High Lady looks as though she is wreathed in starlight as smiles down on the antechamber from her place above the hearth. You observe the pointed curve of her nose and the upturn of her cerulean eyes and something aching and jealous festers in you at the sight of her beauty. 

Otherworldly and ethereal.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The low tenor of a man calls out from the darkness of the room, the voice is measured and devoid of any emotion as it permeates the dark. The male cuts an intimidating figure in the low light and all thought and sound eddies from your mind. You’re sure the sound of your heart like an echoing war drum is loud enough to shake the mountains as he takes a step towards you.

“High Lord?” you question. He steps further into the light and you regard him pensively; his skin is pallid and his eyes are ringed with dark circles of amethyst that trouble you. His onyx hair is left tousled and the ends have grown long enough to curl away from the harsh lines of his face. The sharp junction of his jaw has become obscured by the smatterings of coarse, black hair that grow there.

Even still, even in the unforgiving jade light, he is the most beautiful male you have ever seen. He smells of night blooming jasmine and violets undercut with something inherently masculine. Pine and whiskey perhaps. 

His presence is something truly captivating; dark and intoxicating. When he looks at you there is only dark in those violet eyes. 

The High Lord sinks into the worn armchair by the hearth with a deep sigh and for a moment he allows his eyes to flutter closed as he breathes deeply and all you can do is surrender yourself to that dark magnetism. The dying fire in the hearth warms him and in this light you notice the golden hues of his skin and the dark inky trails tattooed across the planes of his chest where his shirt opens. 

“You’re staring--” The High Lord’s violet eyes falls onto you. In those liminal spaces between the seconds, when he is looking at you, all ceases to be. You tilt your chin downwards, hoping to avert his gaze, as you offer him a courteous bow. 

“My apologies High L-” the apology is cut off by the High Lords gentle protests. None of that, Love.

You pray to the mother that he doesn’t notice the flush along the tops of your cheeks or the wild fluttering of your heart at the pet name.

“Sit down,” The High Lord gestures simply to the seat across from him by the hearth and his whole demeanor is somehow softer when you deign to look at him again. Wordlessly you comply with his request, a careful hand runs down the length of your robes to smooth out the lazy pleats in the skirt as they fan out around you in the low backed chair and while you don’t dare to meet his eyes directly you can feel him looking at you.

    “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologizes though his voice is distant, despondent even and his eyes find the painting that looms over the hearth. “The portrait-- It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He muses, tipping the rim of his whiskey glass towards the portrait. 

“Very beautiful, High Lord.” you agree, smoothing the heavy material of your robes again. He watches you then with a curious glint in his eyes and he takes a few moments to assess you.

“Just Rhysand will do,” He smiles lightly, though there's a sense of apprehension as he regards you playing with the threads of your sleeves for the third time in so many moments, “there’s no need for such formalities when it’s just the two of us.” 

“No of course not,” You agree and look at him through thick lashes and offer him a small smile in return, “forgive me, I’m--” you extend a hand to him over the small end table between the arm chairs and he takes it in earnest shaking it lightly. A calloused pad of his thumb rubs an absentminded circle into the skin of your hand before he brings your hand, trembling and slender, to the sulk of his lips and places a chaste kiss against the knuckles. 

“I know who you are, Priestess,” he says lightly-- playfully. You offer him a polite laugh in return and nod your head again. 

Something dark burns in his eyes in those moments; silver and violet. Like the darkness between the stars. He smiles to himself then, a soft beautiful thing. A secret shared between him and the dying light in the hearth as he picks at an errant threat on the stitching of his shirt.

“Why am I here, Rhysand?” You ask, inhaling deeply, hoping that his answer might assuage the anxiety that has been coiling in your stomach all afternoon. The door to the antechamber opens then and light, golden and radiant spills into the room all at once. The radiant light reveals the room to you fully, you observe the emerald velvet chairs and the dark wood furnishings, the landscapes hung on the walls and the rare manuscripts and novels bound all in black that line the walls. 

This house is something truly breathtaking. 

It feels like a home you realize. 

“There you are!” Morrigan's velvet voice smothers the morose tension in the room as she comes into view. She’s since shed the tiredness that plagued her before and you notice the way her hair frames her face like a halo of gold in the soft ochre light. In her arms, swaddled in sapphire spider silk, is the High Lord’s son. 

“We were beginning to wonder where you had gone.” Mor coos at the bundle in her arms as she approaches Rhysand who takes the babe in his strong arms. 

As if he could get any more beautiful-- the man looks as though he was carved by The Mother. 

It’s wrong, you know. He is your High Lord and you are…

The cursed daughter of a capricious Lord, you remind yourself.

Rhysand glances at me hesitantly and I meet his eyes briefly before focusing on the babe in his arms. He’s since broken loose from the swaddling and his chubby fist clutches at his fathers shirt. I can just see the top of his little head, it's all tufts of curly blue-black hair and pointed pink ears. You smile fondly to yourself as he continues to wriggle in his father’s grasp. 

Gods, it’s been so long since you had smiled that wide without the feeling of guilt that usually attends it. 

“You used to be a governess, didn’t you?” Mor says by way of explanation for your summons. To her credit her smile never falters even as your demeanor hardens against her, “Clotho said you had talked about it a few times.” 

“Yes. I was,” You admit swallowing thickly, your voice comes out strained like the words themselves pain you to speak, “that was a long time ago though.”

That had been long before him. 

You must have only been a youngling yourself. You had been happy-- that much you remember. Those were the happy recollections of your old life; summers spent under the opal lights of The Moonstone place, children’s laughter like birdsong that breaks apart in the humid air as you danced and sang long into the nights. Of dark autumns and smoky air, a bonfire and a small hand that holds your own with such gentle reverence. 

“Clotho said you wanted to leave the Library?” Rhysand questions you, his eyes are dark and filled with a thinly veiled darkness that draws you into their depths as you speak to him without pretense. 

“I do,” You answer him honestly, your voice wavering only a little, “I don’t want to spend my days rotting in the depths of that House.”

Rhysand considers it carefully and his face twists into a pained expression that almost breaks your resolve. You hadn’t meant to hurt him-- never. But you’re done hiding in the dark. 

The world is a cruel place and full of cruel men. It always had been and it always will be. There is nought you can do to change that. So why should you cower from the world any longer? 

You want to live. 

The whining of the restless babe in Rhys’ arms rouses your attention and something akin to longing gathers in your chest as you regard him. You pull a lip between your teeth as he fusses and Rhysand struggles to soothe him. The babe looses a cry that comes out as a pitiful howl and you can feel a small ripple of power permeate the air.

“May I hold him?” The words take everyone in the room by surprise and the High Lord only nods easily and stands to pass the babe into your arms.

“I’m grateful,” You continue as Rhysand stands before you and transfers his son’s weight into the crook of your arm, “To you and your court for providing me, and girls like me with somewhere to heal but--” 

“But you weren’t meant to cower in the darkness of the library forever.” Rhysand’s words come out as little more than a whisper and the feeling of his warm breath on your skin is something entirely perverse. 

You shake your head, mouthing an inaudible ‘no’ before lowering yourself back into the chair by the hearth, hoping to hide the rosy blush that spreads across your cheeks. Rhys doesn’t retreat back into his armchair like you had thought he might and instead sinks to his knees before you and allows one of his son's fists to wrap around his ring finger. The babe seems to quieten then in your arms as he nuzzles against your chest, one balled first clinging to his father and the other pulling at the neckline of your robes and he smiles sleepily in your arms.

Looking at him now you are overcome with the realization of the absence that had stained this family’s happiness. Rhysand had given himself completely to a woman who had changed her mind. And their son-- their son; all cherub cheeked and big blue eyes framed with dark lashes-- had been abandoned by the woman who was supposed to love him without condition. Before the ghost of her had been an abstract thing. Something intangible and errant, a whisper or a memory, but now, as you look between the babe in your arms and the woman immortalized about the hearth you feel nothing but biting fury. A dangerous wrath only tempered by the stilling of the High Lord beside you. 

It is Morrigan’s movement at the side of the room that rouses you from thought. “Then perhaps we can come to an arrangement?” The smile that graces her lips is brilliant and calculating and the sparkle in those umber eyes tells you she is genuine in his intentions.

“An arrangement?” You ask hesitantly, raising one arched brow to her. 

“Yes.” The High Lord nods in agreement as Morrigan approaches you all casually, sauntering over to snatch a glass of wine from the decanter, “you’re free to leave the Library at any time but--”

“Help me take care of Nyx,” The High Lord beats you to it, his voice is soft and gentle and one of his fingers runs along the curve of Nyx’s ear as he begins to doze in your arms. 

“High Lor-” You start, and you’re torn between declining outright and trying to dissuade them altogether, “Mor, I haven’t cared for a babe in well over 60 years.”

“Listen to me,” Rhysand’s violet gaze is unyielding and when you can no longer avert his gaze he takes on of your hands in his own and all but pleads with you,  “take care of Nyx, for one year-- just until I get used to doing it on my own-- just until he starts his pre-schooling.” 

The thought of him raising his son all alone pains you, a physical, bone deep ache that settles over you. You mourn for him then, for the love he thought he had, for all that he lost and then you mourn for the babe in your arms. For the son who will grow up without knowing his mother’s love. The High Lord looks at you through dark lashes and you note the tiredness in his eyes and the desperate sadness that seems to radiate from him these days and yet, he smile softly at you. As one might smile at something lovely and precious. 

“And in return?” You ask peering down at him with sympathetic eyes when his whole body goes lax.

“I’ll help you get set up somewhere-- anywhere you want.” The words come quickly and if you were a cruel woman you would see what more he would offer you. But when he’s looking at you like you might just be his last hope you can’t find it in you to do anything but allow yourself to be persuaded by him.

You see a home; a cottage maybe, made of ancient stone and covered with climing ivy and jasmine. On the outskirts of Velaris, away from the artisans and market stalls of the main square, but close enough that you never feel truly alone. A home and it smells of mandarin and moonflowers, the sound of children laughing, and a garden blooming with violets in the garden in the leonine yellow heat of high summer. You smile wistfully and you swear you feel the gentle caress of a hand in your mind's eye. 

“You can live here with us in the meantime” Rhysand continues gesturing to the house around you. 

It’s warm and inviting and your body sings in response to the prospect. 

“I don’t think that's a good--” 

“Just until you find somewhere of your own.” He assures you standing to his full height before you. He casts a morose glance to the portrait that hangs about the hearth and you can see the moment his violet eyes meet painted cerulean. 

“Rhys--” You warn gently. 

“Please,” He turns to you again and the desperation in his tone has you yielding to him further, a gentle sweep over your face before settling on the sleeping babe in your arms, “please.” He repeats it once more and you swear your heart breaks just a little bit for him. 

He had saved you once, you think. You had only been a girl then but you remember looking at him in that light; he looked like the shadow of some dark winged God-- avenging and angelic.

Perhaps this time the girl can save the God.

“A bargain then.” You muse lightly holding out a pinky finger to him.

Rhysand huffs out a laugh and curls his finger around your own. Nyx’s hand seems to flex in response, his own tiny pinky finger outstretched in agreement. 

“A bargain.” With the simple confirmation you feel the gentle burn of a promise as it kisses its way up your wrist, and you see Rhysand’s own inky sigil as it glows faintly on the skin of his outstretched arm.

#acotar #acotar x reader #rhysand x reader #rhys x reader #rhys x you #rhys x y/n #rhysand x you #rhysand x y/n #rhysand acotar #rhysand imagine #rhys acotar #rhys fanfic #rhysand headcanons

[sunvmars]

bitter sweet | s.r.

pairing: steve rogers x fem/afab reader

next ↠

word count: 2.8k

warnings: obv swearing, pregnancy/pregnant reader, some angst that's mainly reader trying to cover up hidden emotions

summary: you've grown to resent steve after a breakup and give him the cold shoulder for weeks. you soon discover you're pregnant and show back up on his doorstep to tell him the news.

a/n: definitely turning this into a series if it gains enough traction!

It was a warm summer evening like any other when Steve had asked you to come straight home after work, insisting he had something important to talk about. You had entered your shared apartment with expectations of a nice dinner or a movie night. Considering Steve was always one for suspension, surprise plans and at-home date nights weren't unusual.

You set your purse down on the table by the front door before sinking into your favorite recliner. The setting sun cast a glow amongst the living room that you greatly appreciated, although it was a glow that was far too beautiful to be wasted on that night.

"Steve! I'm home!"

Only a few seconds after you'd called out had he come, practically, running. He came to sit on the couch, only a few feet away, his expression conflicted.

"I missed you today," you said.

You beamed at your fiancé, simply happy to see him after another shitty work day. While you were an Avenger, you stuck to mainly office work when you had no missions.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "Y/n, honey, I think we need to talk."

Your heart sank, and a lump formed in your throat. You knew Steve like the back of your hand, and every time he has said the words "we need to talk," it's never been good.

"Is Buck sneaking over to eat all of our sweets again? I thought you talked to him about that," you joked in an attempt to lighten the tension.

"Funnily enough, no, he hasn't done that in a few days."

"Well, don't jinx it."

He chuckled briefly. His hands ran over his face as he sighed, and his broad shoulders relaxed.

"I've been thinking- a lot," he began, avoiding your gaze. "Baby, you know I love you, right?"

You hummed, giving him a nod that allowed him to continue.

"I love you, but..."

As soon as you had heard the "but," you tuned out. Whether it was by choice, or whether your mind and heart already knew what he was going to say and were just saving you the extra heartbreak, you weren't sure. You did, however, catch the last part of it. And luckily, the last part was all you needed to hear from him.

"I can't allow this to continue. I'm no good for you, y/n. I can't be the man you need or deserve right now. It's not fair to keep you waiting while I'm still trying to figure out what I want."

Your brows furrowed as your body started becoming tense. "What...?" you muttered.

It was less of a question and more of you thinking aloud, vocalizing your confusion. Unless you were a completely oblivious idiot, things between the two of you were fine yesterday, and every day before that for the last two years. He sighed, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes were filled with regret that you somehow missed.

"I... I can't take the risk anymore. I need to focus on my responsibilities and protecting the world. It's just... I can't let my personal life get in the way of my promise to the world."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away before they could fall. You had the same job, so how could the man who had proposed only a few months ago just now, after two years, decide he couldn't make this work because of his job? Either way, that man didn't deserve your tears, so you wouldn't waste them on him. You stood quickly, not bothering to look back at him as you made your way towards the door.

"Y/n? Where are you going? Please say something, baby-"

"Don't! You don't get to call me that anymore," you snapped, finally allowing yourself to show some sort of emotion. "Just...stop. There's nothing else to say."

His eyes widened a little at your sudden outburst. You picked up your purse and keys hastily. Your fingers fidgeted with the keys for a moment, then you started sliding your house key off your keychain. It was then that you decided to speak again before he got the chance to, not caring to hear another word from him.

"I'll have someone come get my stuff tomorrow; do whatever you want with the apartment, as long as you don't have to contact me to do it."

"Y/n," he spoke with softened, glossy eyes, "please, just stay until you find somewhere else to go. This is your home too, I-"

"There's too much of you, well, what used to be us, here," you stated plainly as you placed your key on the table. "Where I go isn't your problem anymore anyway."

A sigh escaped your lips as you slung your purse over your shoulder. You turned to face him one last time as you stood in the doorway.

"Oh, and one more thing," you say, "You are a fucking coward, Steven Grant Rogers."

The door slammed behind you. And what you'd left behind was a deeply regretful, and utterly stupid, Steve sitting alone on the couch in the apartment you once shared.

That was almost two months ago, and your heart had not allowed you to heal at all. As if seeing Steve in passing at work wasn't painful enough, now you had an important mission coming up tomorrow, and being chosen to go with him was inevitable. Or at least you thought it was inevitable. It had all started earlier in the morning with a rotten egg- an actual rotten egg, that is.

You were baking cookies for Bucky, fully aware of how much he'd miss your baked goods for the next week or two you would be gone. Over the time that you and Steve had dated and been engaged, you'd gotten pretty close with the brunette. He was equally supportive of both of you during the breakup. Though he did lay into Steve for leaving you. Bucky knew there was more to it than his job; both of you had the same job for Christ's sake, but he didn't push his friend for answers—at least not yet.

With one gentle motion, you cracked the egg on the side of your metal bowl. However, this egg had a smell to it. You brought it closer to your face to observe and smell it. What a horrible mistake, though, because as soon as you inhaled the sickening, sulfur-like scent, it made your stomach turn. But instead of going back to normal, you gagged. The scent was lingering longer than any other scent you'd ever smelled, almost as if you were permanently damned to having the smell stuck in your nostrils.

Then the hot stomach acid started coming up, and it was coming fast, signaling you needed a trashcan now. You bolted towards the nearest bathroom, preferring to take a chance on making a mess in a hallway rather than the kitchen. You passed Steve and Bucky on your way there, both men stopping dead in their tracks to watch as you ran into the bathroom only a few feet behind them.

"Huh," Steve mumbled, his heart throbbing at the sight of you.

"Sometimes I get sick when I look at you too, punk."

Bucky chuckled at his own joke, earning a glare from Steve.

"Go check on her for me, please."

"Always. But I won't keep giving you updates on her, y'know? It's not fair to her, Steve," Bucky sighed.

Steve only nodded in understanding, a smile only staying on his lips for a few seconds. He patted Bucky's back before turning on his heels and continuing on his path.

Your stomach clenched harder, and the vomit raced up your throat faster than ever. You barely got to the toilet before retching and gagging again, feeling instant relief when the bile finally came up. But then came a sudden second wave of nausea that seemed to be worse than the first. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the torture finally ended.

You stood up slowly and made your way to the sink. After tearing off a piece of paper towel, you dampened it under warm water. You wiped your mouth off with the damp napkin and threw it away before opening the door to leave.

"You okay?"

You jumped back slightly, looking over to meet piercing blue eyes. There was Bucky leaning up against the wall next to the bathroom door with his arms crossed.

"Jesus, Buck. You stalking me?"

"Stalking you? Definitely not. If I wanted to stalk someone, I'd find someone more interesting who doesn't eat half pints of vanilla bean ice cream and watch Pride and Prejudice or The Notebook every night," he jokes.

"Hey! It's how I cope and get over things; it's soothing."

"Yet you still pine over him, so how's that working out for ya?"

"...not great. Maybe I do need a new method, huh?"

The two of you exchange a laugh, and you start making your way back to the kitchen with Bucky right on your heels.

"So, are you okay?" he questions again.

"Just felt a little sick, that's all. And, hey, here's a tip: don't ever smell a rotten egg, it's not a pleasant experience," you say with a soft sigh.

He chuckles at your joke and replies, "Thank you for that. I'll remember that."

When you make it to the kitchen, he plants himself on a bar stool only a few feet away from you. You decide to continue making your cookies, holding your breath as you clean up the old egg.

"Wow, I can smell that from here. You weren't lying. That is bad."

His nose turns up and his face scrunches, earning a giggle from you. You two chat as you make the dough, and soon enough, you're finished baking. As you put the last cookies on the tray, Bucky stands up to get a closer look.

"God. Per usual, those smell amazing," he groans, reaching for one of the hot sweets.

You swat his hand away with a laugh. "Not until they're cooled down!"

He fakes a frown that makes you laugh again. You shake your head, making a 'tsk' noise at him.

"You're a menace, Buck," you joke.

He only shrugs his shoulders with a lopsided grin, then he pulls you into a hug. "Somebody has to get on your nerves. It keeps you distracted and on your feet," he teases.

"Thank you for being here for me."

Your body relaxes in his arms. You wrap your arms around his upper waist to return the sentiment. You take a deep breath and then pull away from the hug.

"How are you feeling, by the way?"

"It's almost like it never happened," you smirk.

"That's a lie, and you know it."

You're about to speak again, but close your mouth as soon as it opens. The nausea pools in your stomach again, forcing a huff out of you.

"I think I'm gonna be sick again."

"You're still feeling that bad over it?"

"No, I genuinely think I'm gonna throw up again, Buck," you say hurriedly, pushing by him to get back to the bathroom. "Put those cookies in a bag, Barnes! They're all yours!"

He chuckles and holds his thumb up in the air, even though you can't see it. "And you get yourself to the doctor, l/n."

And going to the doctor is exactly what you chose to do.

Well, almost.

You instead chose to go to the lab with Tony and Bruce, and you only decided to go after about the fourth wave of nausea that came around five hours after the first. Which is how you ended up in the lab with grippy socks on and a cold Sprite in hand as you await blood and urine test results.

"So, how are you holding up, kid?" Tony asks, his eyes glued to his computer.

"Been better, had better days."

He looks away from his computer for a moment, making eye contact with you. "I could just kill him for hurting you, and I hope you know that," he states, his voice carrying nothing but genuine honesty.

"Aw, Tony, you're just like the dad I never dreamed of having—violently overprotective and overdramatic."

Bruce chuckles, but Tony just rolls his eyes, focusing back on his computer.

"That's what I get for trying to be nice to you," Tony scoffs, trying his best to hide the smile that wants to creep onto his face.

"I'm going to take a walk, Tony. I'll be back in a few minutes," Bruce announces as he rises from his chair. "If the computer beeps, it's her results coming back."

"Got it," Tony responds plainly, entirely too distracted by something on his screen.

The computer beeps only a few minutes after Bruce walks out, indicating an update to your information. Tony swivels his chair over to the big screen and pulls up your test results. He studies them carefully, not saying a word.

"So...what's wrong with me?"

He's still silent when he turns to face you. At first, he looks shocked, but then his brows furrow and his eyes narrow ever so slightly. If you hadn't known him for as long as you have, you'd think he was judging you based on his facial expression, but you knew he wasn't. He looked conflicted and confused, almost hesitant.

"What is it, Tone? You're freaking me out here. Is it the flu? A stomach bug? Food poisoning?"

"How about a baby?"

Your jaw drops, literally. The words pool in your mind, and your brain starts feeling like it's going to explode from all the different emotions and thoughts. You start to feel sick to your stomach again but manage to push the feeling down.

"I..." you start, unable to find the words to finish.

"I'm sorry, y/n. I won't tell anyone, okay? Not even Bruce. We need to set you up with a doctor. I have an amazing one I can call to come here and-"

"I appreciate that, Tony, but I need time to think first. We'll, uhm, talk tomorrow if that's okay."

"Of course," he empathizes, a sympathetic smile tugging at his lips. "Come here, kid."

You shuffle your way into his open arms, not having the energy to return the hug. He pulls away after a few seconds and allows you to step back.

"I think I'm gonna go...or something... I don't know," you mumble, making your way towards the door.

"Hey, y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"If this is something you want, don't let him ruin it for you."

As soon as you leave the lab, it's like you're on autopilot.

Your feet took you to the downstairs office, then outside, and then to your car. When you get into your car, you tell yourself you're going to the store to grab some more ice cream. But your heart has other ideas; ideas such as Steve.

So, you drive yourself all the way to Steve's apartment, just wanting to be comforted by the familiarity for a moment. Then, somehow, you end up outside the front door of what used to be your shared space.

Your soft knock pulls Steve from the closest to sleep he's been in weeks. He curses under his breath, loathing whoever is at the door for ruining his chance at a few minutes to hours of peace.

However, that hate replaces itself with regret and adoration as soon as he opens the door to reveal your slouched-over form. Steve recognizes that look on your face, along with your body language, and it's evident that something is wrong.

As if you showing up at his door isn't surprising enough, you look up at him before letting yourself fall into his arms. He stands in shock as you lay your head on his warm and familiarly sculpted chest. Then sobs wrack through you, shaking your whole body, and that's all it takes for him to give into instinct and wrap his arms around you. The heat of his body and the feeling of his embrace provide a warming comfort as you cry into his shirt, only coaxing you further to let it all go.

One of his hands rubs your back gently while he holds you. "Y/n? What's wrong, honey? Talk to me," he coos.

You feel a tightness in your chest, a feeling that you can't put into words right now even if you tried your hardest to. In fact, all you can do is cry more as you hold tightly onto the sides of his shirt. You practically crumble into his chest, melting in his arms, and Steve understands. That's what made you fall for him in the first place, honestly - he always understands.

So, with no more words spoken, he holds you in the same doorway you walked out of only a couple of weeks ago. He holds you in that doorway until your tears slow and your breathing returns to normal. At some point, his thick fingers begin combing through your hair soothingly, the same way they used to every night at bedtime.

"I don't know what your stance on kids before marriage and after a breakup is, but you should figure it out soon," you mutter into his chest.

His body freezes, and his mind scrambles to catch up with your words. He looks down at your head, his eyebrows furrowing as he tries to make sense of the situation.

Are you truly saying what he thinks you are? You couldn't be...

"I'm pregnant, Steve."

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #bucky barnes #fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x reader angst #angst #steve rogers angst #captain america angst #tony stark #bruce banner #captain america x you #captain america x female reader #steve rogers x reader angst

[randomdragonfires]

If The Sun Ever Rises | Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1 | To See You Again

SUMMARY | After narrowly escaping the Battle Above God’s Eye, Prince Aemond is now a hidden fugitive within the very kingdom he once ruled. Driven by vengeance, he plans to usurp Aegon III and avenge his family. His rage-blinded path to the throne begins with getting rid of Cregan Stark and the men who support his nephew’s rule. Having nothing to lose, he recklessly kidnaps the Northerner’s betrothed - his own niece - hoping to lure him and his men out to fight.

Soon, Aemond finds that memories of a first love are strong, and that he cannot steel his heart against the woman he has loved all his life.

WARNINGS | 18+; Smut; Canon Divergence - Aemond lives (but barely); Violence; Stockholm Syndrome; Mental and Physical Trauma; Angst; Canon Incest; Manipulation; No Happy Endings In This House YAY

WORD COUNT | 2k

Text Divider by @saradika

They had been running for three days now.

Slivers of moonlight pierced through the dense canopy above. The twisted and gnarled branches of trees, like skeletal fingers grasping for the Seven Heavens, cast their eerie shadows across the forest floor. The tangled roots snaked across the damp earth and moss clung to the ancient trunks like a dark shroud.

The air was heavy with the scent of damp soil and decaying leaves, mingling with the sweet aroma of wildflowers that dared to bloom amidst the darkness. Faint whispers seemed to echo through the tangled undergrowth, as if the very forest itself held secrets long forgotten.

As they ascended the hill, the terrain grew steeper, the path narrow and treacherous. Each step was a struggle against the relentless pull of gravity, the earth slick with dew beneath their feet. Aemond held onto her hand as tightly as she could - she hadn’t allowed him to touch her initially, having been in shock at being abducted from the arms of her betrothed - but there was only so much a defeated, tired princess could do on her own.

She panted from exertion. The blood on her face was dry now – he’d needed to hurt her to get her to comply. She looked at him with all the anger that he knew she was never capable of, and a forgotten corner of his mind yearned for an easier time when she’d held different feelings for him.

In an ideal world, there would have been no war. He could have married her, just as he’d promised in the protected darkness of the nights in hidden chambers and intimate correspondences. They could have been happy.

Though his thirst for vengeance was screaming at him, a small part of his mind wished for a quieter time; a time that would never come.

His family was dead, and he needed her to balance the scales. He owed Helaena that much. He owed Aegon that much. Mother, Daeron, Criston, sweet Jaehaerys, and Maelor - all his kith and kin. He had failed them all.

He would be damned to all Seven Hells before letting their deaths mean nothing.

At the hill's summit, the forest parted, revealing a precipice that loomed over the land below. The distant glimmer of moonlight danced upon the surface of a winding river, its waters black as night. He let go of her, and she fell to her knees, relishing the feeling of a flat surface and slower breaths as she bid her heart to slow down. He watched her ears perk up as she heard the crunch of his boots over the dry leaves, stalking towards her in that catlike stealth that he had taught himself to have.

He took her by surprise as he tightened his arm around her chest and grabbed her by the neck, making her body twitch in fear as she rose involuntarily. At the edge of the abyss, he turned her around to face him as he let the cold steel of his blade kiss her skin and travel over her frayed white dress from neck to navel.

How did we come to this?

She did not recognize the man in front of her.

He was the boy who had brought her books when her brothers teased her to the point of crying; who had kept her company in her grief of being a dragonless Targaryen; who had held her hand and promised that he would marry her; the one who had come rushing to her the night he claimed Vhagar, promising to take her on a ride.

He was the man who had taunted her and her brothers' parentage at a family supper; who had kissed her senseless in a lone passageway the very same night when he found out that Rhaenrya had no intention of letting him have her. He was the man who had killed sweet, mischievous Luke; the one whom she had left behind when she had been sent to the North; the one whom she had hoped would come and take her away, against all odds.

So many memories tied to him, inexplicably. And yet, she did not recognize the man in front of her.

As a boy, he had had such striking eyes - in color, but more so in the volatility of their regard. Always flitting about, looking for things to imbibe, to brand into his memory. His functional eye had grown different since she had last seen him - distant, devoid of the charming curiosity that would shine in his violet orb.

The eye of a war-worn murderer. He had probably brought her here because he wanted to kill her too.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” she whispered the words, almost uncertain. The coldness of his Valyrian steel dagger made goosebumps rise up on the planes of her skin, and yet, she surprisingly found that she was scared, not in the least.

He smirked and leaned in close to her, the leather strap of his eyepatch grazing her temple as she let the warmth of his breath bloom over her face. He raised the blade to her neck and teased her, being so bold as to let out a throaty, exhausted laugh that sounded more maniacal than anything else. She shut her eyes closed, hoping that if she could keep her world dark, she could pretend that this was all a nightmare.

She had often dreamt that he would take her away. She had hoped and hoped and hoped, and now that he was here, she couldn’t fathom how wrong she had been to wish for it.

Silly little fool.

“Sharp, sweet niece.”

His tone made her flinch. His voice was rough and predatory - so much so that she couldn’t tell if it was him or the situation itself that made her feel that way. “You’re supposed to be dead. Daemon….”

Her voice was lost in the air as he raised his eyebrow, a menacing smile in place as he pressed the blade into her skin - just enough to make a few blood red spots bloom. “I killed him. He thought he was better than me, the old fool. I stabbed him in his right eye, the very one that I lost. Vengeance, dear niece…” His thumb collected the first drop of blood that dripped from where he had made his mark, “... makes for the sweetest of spoils. And I intend to taste more of this victory…”

It happened on instinct, her reaching out to hold his wrist tight through his shirt. The irony of taking the hand of the man who wanted to hurt her and counting on him to not let her fall was not lost on her; but if she didn’t, she was sure she would faint.

“...With you.”

The last words confused her, having her mind scrabbling to piece the puzzle and figure out his intent. “Me?” She leaned her head back to breathe and put some space between her and his blade, but that only spurned him more as he pulled her to him by the back of her neck.

“Aegon, Helaena, Criston, Jaeherys, Maelor, mother…vengeance for them all. When he comes for you, to save you… I’ll kill him, and then I’ll kill the little boy that you call a King. Take what is rightfully mine and avenge them.”

The Aemond she had known was too calculated, too weary to tell anyone anything at all. But this, this wasn’t her Aemond. This was a different man - a mad killer, a stranger; one that intended to use her in his rage-filled path to regicide and revenge.

When he comes for you, to save you… I’ll kill him. 

She could only think of one man who would come looking for her. Her betrothed, Cregan Stark - the same man who had shown her Northern hospitality and shared his home and hearth so she could be kept safe away from the bloodshed of the war.

And Aemond wanted to kill him. He wanted to kill them all and take the Iron Throne.

“Gods…”

She had always felt compelled to help during the war. She wasn’t a skilled warrior, nor was she a bold woman. Dainty little sweetheart, her mother used to call her. How can I manage to keep you safe and sound?

She had always wanted to help her mother - be a good daughter and play her part in helping her sit the Throne, as was her birthright. When she had been sent to the North as Cregan Stark’s betrothed, Rhaenyra Targaryen had told her that this was her duty, her contribution to the Blacks’ victory.

You will help me win by keeping my mind at ease about you, child, she had said. You will help me win by staying safe and bringing the Northerners’ allegiance to our cause. 

That had been her contribution, but it hadn’t been enough. Daemon, Luke, Jace, Joffrey, Rhaenys… they’re all dead. She had done what she could, and it was not enough.

And now, Aemond wanted to kill sweet Aegon. Her beloved brother, the little one who held the weight of the world on his shoulders. He would make a fine king, she knew - but not if Aemond was going to lure Cregan out to fight and make him vulnerable to attacks.

She’d be damned to all Seven Hells if she let him win.

He had been observing her, it seemed. As she let her thoughts sweep her away, he had taken to watching her, reminding himself of every inch of her. She raised her hand to his warm dry cheek, bony from what could have only been a lack of proper food. How long has he been staying here, amidst the trees?

“You don’t have to do this, uncle. Let me go now, and it’ll be like it never happened. There’s been enough bloodshed.”

She thought she imagined it, but she knew it was true when she felt his grip on the blade falter for just a moment. She made good on his momentary lapse and kicked his knee to fold under him with all her might. He fell, and she took hurried steps away from him as he grunted in pain.

Her skirts swirled as she turned just slightly, sneaking a peek off the edge of the hill. If she jumped, she would fall into the waters that ran below - but would that be enough? She’d have to die. She had to. She would not let him use her; she would not let him kill them.

This was her contribution to the war. Her deceased mother’s victory lay in her daughter’s ability to keep the rightful king alive. This was her chance, and she was not going to fail her. He stood up with panting breaths, and she looked him in the eye as boldly as she could, knowing very well that she might as well be living her last and final moments.

She had always wanted to fly - and if she wasn’t going to do it now, then when would she?

She closed her eyes and threw herself over the edge, seeing the sky become a fading memory as she made the steep drop. Halfway through, she opened her eyes and saw him leaning over the edge, panicked, watching her free-falling figure from the hilltop as she flew, flew, flew.

She fell into the water, making contact with sharp tree branches and thorns on the way down in her descent. The blood on her face and body mixed with the water that surrounded her, and blood-red ripples muddled her vision as she closed her eyes.

Water filled her nostrils, and her vision went dark in a matter of mere moments.

NO TAG LIST. Follow @randomdragonfics and turn on post notifs for fic updates!

Next Chapter

A/N: Got so inspired by the S2 poster, I managed to finish this damn thing hehe. This was a lot more fast paced than my usual writing style, and I'd love to hear what you guys think! I've been really out of touch with fic writing, and feedback is always welcome :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen smut #ewan mitchell #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond smut #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen fic #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond fic #aemond #pro aemond targaryen #aemond stannies #aemond angst #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen fanfiction

[esouliie]

AN ANGEL FLUNG OUT OF SPACE

(natasha romanoff x fem! reader)

– synopsis | falling in love with your childhood bestfriend might have been one of the best yet scariest things to happen to you. but what happened in the summer of ‘97? what happened to your darling natalia?

– warnings | little fluff & a lot of angst, kind of au (no avengers), child abuse, mentions of: attempted suicide, self harm, body mutilation, burn marks, severe malnourishment (18+)

– notes | this was supposed to be a oneshot but, as usual, i spiralled out of control and now it has two chapters… potentially three? merci, mon alice, for the header @wandasgf ♡

[ word count: 4.4k ] Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

JULY 1992

The sun had begun to set and yet the warmth of the day still lingered. The glow of the street lamps cast an amber hue on the pavement, outlining the familiar houses that lined the quiet street. The air was filled with the scent of summer, a blend of fresh grass and the distant fragrance of blooming flowers. In one of the houses on the street, a family gathered in their backyard for a summer evening barbecue. The smell of sizzling burgers and sweet barbecue sauce wafted through the air, and the faint laughter of children chasing each other echoed, while the adults lounged and swapped stories.

Meanwhile, across the field, two girls were beneath the sprawling branches of a willow tree. A patchwork quilt, covering a section of flattened grass, held a tea set long forgotten as they had rounded the thick trunk, the littlest one already perched on the wooden swing.

“Push me higher, Natty!” You exclaimed, voice full of glee. You were only a small girl with wild hair and a toothy grin, but your spirit was boundless.

Natalia smiled brightly, her own eyes sparkling with joy at her friend's excitement. “You’re already so high you could see the Empire State Building.” She teased, her laughter blending with the sound of chirping crickets amongst the long grass in the distance.

“I know!” The wind whipped against your face, and you couldn’t help but let out a joyous laugh.

Inseparable since Natalia moved in next door, your friendship blossomed under the protective branches of the willow tree across the street, where a swing hung proudly in the breeze. Its gentle leaves whispered secrets that only the two of you could hear, dreams of the future etched upon its bark, as unadulterated laughter rang true with its sway.

She whistled as your head swung back, the carefree spirit of the summer evening enveloping her in its warm embrace. And as she gazed up at the tree’s opening, she found twinkling stars above and the imaginary distant silhouette of the Empire State Building visible on the horizon. She couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the vastness of the world she had yet to see.

"Whoa, this is amazing." You shouted, feeling your stomach drop with each swoop. "Let’s swing all the way to the moon!"

“Maybe not the moon,” She pushed harder, her hands gripping the thick plank of wood beneath you, “But let’s try for the stars."

You shouted with as much euphemism as your little body could handle as the swing reached its peak. Weightless under its motion, you were suspended between the sky and the ground.

 An angel flung out of space.

 "I can almost touch the stars!"

She smiled. Despite her hands being rubbed red raw from rope burn, she was happy. She was always happy to be with you. While she had her younger sister, Yelena, whom she cared for deeply, it wasn't the same as having you. A friendship of her own creation. She yearned for the summer days when she could run around like a child with you.

“That’s good, that means you’re almost home, little star.” She shouted, her accent slipping out ever so subtly.

Carefully, your hand stretched toward the night sky – a poor attempt to touch the boiling balls of gas above.

You both were happy.

It’s sad what became of you both.

All too soon, reality intruded once more. The distant sound of a heavy door opening cut through the air, a gentle reminder that all good things must come to an end. With a final push, Nat stepped back and held onto the plank, commanding it to a halt. She knew what was coming.

At first, you didn’t notice her disappear around the wide trunk. But the gentle clink of pottery against one another told you enough as you followed in her footsteps.

“Natalia,” You whined, hands on your waist at the sight of the older girl cleaning up. “No, it’s your turn to swing.”

A whistle pierced the air, its familiar shrill sound gaining both of your attention. The sound of home time. “Natalia, come. Time to go.” Her mother’s voice carried just as loud, urging the redhead to leave playtime behind.

She turned to you, her expression softening as she looked down at your smaller frame. With a mixture of reluctance and understanding, she pulled you into a tight embrace, the warmth of her arms wrapped around you, the gentle press of her lips against your forehead lingered for a moment before she released you and ran off into the gathering dusk.

Alone now, you watched as the field fell silent, the only sound being of the insects hidden in the dark. The swing on the other side croaked gently in response to the light breeze and the redhead’s swift departure. For a moment, you considered sitting on it, perhaps pushing yourself back and forth on the points of your feet. Instead, you find yourself standing there: the absence of your best friend ever so palpable, a void that sunk deep into your bones.

Without Natalia by your side, the swing held little allure, and you decided to make your way back home. With your large basket in hand, you reached your own doorstep and paused, casting one last glance towards the girl’s house. The lights were on inside, casting a warm glow against the darkness outside.

You almost missed it, but a glimpse of red hair appeared out the window, followed by a hand waving at you. As soon as you waved back, she was gone. Window shut. Curtains drawn.

You went to bed with a cheesy grin plastered on your face.

You’ll see her again tomorrow.

--

AUGUST 1997

“Natalia, stop fighting me on this. You look like a popsicle.” You laughed and shoved the girl playfully from where you were sitting against the willow tree.

“It's cool.” She defended, as her hand tugged at her blue-dyed ends.

The years had rolled by, but the memories of that swing under the willow tree lingered on in your heart. As the seasons changed, so did your life. You made new friends, explored different interests, and navigated the tumultuous journey of adolescence. Being older than you, Natalia was already in high school, but she didn’t go to any in the district, as she was home-schooled and sometimes had to leave for a while. She never really told you why.

Even so, your bond deepened and an unspoken connection developed between you both. Under the tree's comforting shade, you discovered a warmth in your heart that went beyond friendship. Those lazy summer afternoons spent laughing, dreaming, and sharing secrets created a bond that you wanted to explore further.

You’d never felt like this before for anyone.

Only Natalia.

Life as a pre-teen was so confusing.

You snorted, “Yeah, okay, you leave for a month and come back with half of your hair a different colour.”

But it wasn't just the hair colour that captivated you. It was the way she carried herself - a wisdom wise beyond her years. She was the same goofy redhead of course - her eyes sparkled with mischief when she laughed at you, her hand held the same warmth in yours as you walked together. But there was something else lurking beneath, a sadness more notable than her usual melancholy. You noticed the slight furrow in her brow, the way her fingers tapped nervously against each other.

Something was weighing on her mind, something significant. So, you asked, “What’s wrong?”

She let out such a soft sigh that you almost missed it.

“I’m leaving.”

Dread washed over you, and a knot formed in your stomach. "Again?"

She had just returned the other day. Your mind raced with questions and uncertainty and the tears already clustered your lash line. You, a child with no need to mask her emotions, no need to hide her soul, unlike Natalia, who always seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders, her laughter always accompanied by a subtle sadness, as if she were trying to conceal her true feelings behind a façade of cheerfulness. But today, as she sat you down with a gentle tug, her eyes betraying a mixture of resolve and sorrow, you sensed that she could no longer hide what she'd been keeping inside.

"It's for good this time," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the ground as if unable to meet your eyes. "My parents want to go back to Russia. They don’t like it here.”

Though unspoken, you sensed the weight of what she meant. They don't like you. It stung, a silent acknowledgement of the barriers you've fallen blind to. The odd glances from her mother, the subtle disapproval from her younger sister—all pieces of a puzzle you've tried to ignore.

Her admission hung heavy in the air, the reality of separation sinking in with each passing moment. She drew closer, her delicate fingers brushing away the tears that cascaded down your cheeks. You lifted your gaze to meet hers, noticing the weariness etched into her features, the telltale signs of tears already shed hours before.

“I’ll miss you.” She whispered, forehead flushed against yours, before leaning down to kiss the corner of your lips. An almost kiss. One of many shared underneath the cover of the willow tree.

You tasted saltiness and noticed the fresh tears that had now sprung from her eyes.

“I'll miss you too. Forever.”

The next morning, you stood outside her house, as the sun cast long shadows over their lawn. It was your last full day together so you arrived bright and early, not wanting to waste any time. You reached out to knock on the door, but your hand hovered, hesitant. The house remained still, as if holding its breath, waiting for something that would never come. You glanced around, searching for any sign of life, but the windows stared back at you blankly, revealing nothing but darkness within.

“Natty?”

 Nothing.

A sinking feeling gnawed at your stomach as you realized they must've left in the night, slipping away like shadows fleeing from the dawn. The same way they joined this neighbourhood.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from the empty house, feeling as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with their departure. The world already seemed colder, lonelier, devoid of her warmth and laughter that once filled it.

In the days that followed, you found yourself drawn to the tree – yours and Natalia’s safe haven. You sat there, surrounded by memories, as the rope swayed in the wind - empty and forlorn. Though still magical, the willow tree could no longer shield you from the loneliness that settled in your heart, as the summer months stretched on endlessly, a blur of empty hours filled with longing and regret.

That night, you slept with a permanent frown, a puddle of tears staining your pillow.

You won’t see her again tomorrow.

--

APRIL 2001

From afar, she looked different. Almost unrecognisable.

Eighteen years old and she was here: barely an adult yet taller and slimmer, with a cascade of auburn curls framing her face that replaced the short blue hair you remembered. The years had engraved themselves onto her, carving the once-round face into a pointed visage that spoke of both experience and loss.

Just as beautiful as you remembered.

You sat on the swing under the tree with a book in hand, lost in its pages until light danced between the branches and a flicker of movement caught your attention. Glancing up, you froze as you saw her across the street.

Natalia?

Your heart quickened its pace, memories flooding back in a torrent. But this woman was different. She’d changed. She’d grown.

She noticed you too, her gaze locking onto yours for a moment. There's a flicker of recognition, a spark of something in those eyes. For a heartbeat, it feels like time hasn't passed, like you're still the same two little girls taking on the world together. But then, just as quickly as the connection formed, she averted her gaze, choosing instead to continue on her journey. She walked with purpose, footsteps marching in a steady rhythm that both connected and distanced her from you. She couldn’t get caught up with you. She had a job to do.

Realising she was going to walk away, you pushed yourself off the swing, a mix of hope and nerves swirling inside you as you discarded the book somewhere in the grass.

None of that mattered. Natalia was here. She was back.

“Hey, wait!” You shouted, practically running after her. You reached out to grab her wrist, but she jerked away, shoving you back a few steps with surprising force.

Up close, the difference was unquestionable.

The once soft and kind Natalia had evolved into a hardened version of herself, sharpened by strong fists. Her eyes once filled with innocence, now harbour shadows of pain and resilience. She exuded an aura of toughness, and a guarded silence had replaced the laughter that used to be a melody in her voice.

“Natalia? What are you doing here?” You inquired, tentatively closing the gap between you both. You watched as she winced at her name falling from your lips.

And yet, this time, she didn’t evade your touch. Her hand trembled slightly as it met yours, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. In that fleeting silence, you took in the toll life has taken on her. Her arms bear the marks of countless scars, remnants of battles fought in shadows, and bruises of varying hues.

“What happened to your arms?” Your voice is gentle, a soft inquiry borne out of concern.

But, the sudden confrontation had her retreating into herself, defences rising once more like impenetrable walls. You mustn’t know. She could never do that to you. “Let go.” She demanded sharply, her tone cutting through the air like a knife.

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, but that’s long enough for her to decide to rip her hand out of yours, sharp and abrupt.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was barely a whisper as you watched her practically flee, disappearing around the corner of the street.

 You don’t follow her.

--

OCTOBER 2012

Funny how throughout life, fate seemed to play a game with you, pulling Natalia in and out of your orbit like a cosmic dance.

At twenty-seven, you found yourself entrenched in the fast-paced world of trauma nursing. After the arduous journey through medical school, you packed your bags and set your sights on the East Coast. New York City welcomed you with open arms, its vibrant chaos becoming the backdrop to your new life. From your boss’s office window, the silhouette of the Empire State Building stood tall, a symbol of strength amidst the chaos below.

You thrived in this environment, relishing in the opportunity to connect with and assist people in their most vulnerable moments. The adrenaline rush of the emergency room, the delicate balance between life and death—it fuelled you in ways nothing else could. Not since that summer night. Not since you tried to touch the stars.

Today, however, the hospital was enveloped in an air of secrecy and quiet urgency. Paramedics had rushed in with a new patient a few hours ago, shrouded in mystery as they were rushed straight into surgery. Usually, you're first on-site with incoming patients but you had been busy working your rounds to be able to assist, and there were enough on the trauma team – with the security clearance - to handle such a situation.

Stopping by the bedside of your oldest patient, Mrs. Dinton, you smiled sweetly. “Hey, Mrs Dinton. How are we today?”

"Ah, there you are, dearie," she said, her voice crackling with age. "I was just telling Nurse Molly here about the delightful hospital pudding they serve on Wednesdays. It's simply divine, don't you think?"

You chuckled softly, waving a hello to your colleague. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a fan, Mrs. Dinton. But I'm glad to hear you're enjoying it."

She laughed, a sound like tinkling bells. "Oh, well, means more for me then."

Before you could continue the conversation – could reprimand the elderly woman about how she needs to watch her sugar intake - Dr. Cho appeared at your side, her expression serious. "Excuse me, ladies. But, Nurse Y/N, is needed elsewhere." She says kindly but with a hint of urgency, no room for questioning. You and Dr. Cho were great friends, having graduated med school together and now working at the same hospital.

“What is it, Helen?” You asked, following her footsteps out the ward, navigating the labyrinthine hallways of the hospital.

“I’ve been assigned postoperative care for the Jane Doe and I want you with me...” Your heart dropped at the mention of the mystery woman.

All day, the hushed tones and covert glances exchanged among your colleagues hinted at the gravity of the situation. Their whispers that followed you through the hospital corridors spoke of a failed suicide attempt. While the hospital had sadly seen its share of such cases, this one was different – a Jane Doe, requiring an unusual degree of privacy.

“…while I don’t know any more than you about what happened, I trust you the most to help me with her. So I got you clearance. Go grab us a pair of gloves, I’ll meet you inside.” Helen finished with a nod before entering the private wing.

You donned your own pair of latex and made your way back to the private wing, the click of your shoes echoing down the corridor. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation and concern. The weight of the unknown pressed upon you as you approached the room where the troubled soul awaited treatment. Few years being a trauma nurse, you had seen it all… but not a Jane Doe. Never a Jane Doe.

Upon entering, you found Helen already studying the patient's chart. The subdued lighting in the room cast a sombre mood, and the machines hummed softly in the background. The Jane Doe was laid on the hospital bed, head secured in a neck brace and a tube down her throat, a silent testament to the ordeal she had endured.

“Thanks,” Helen whispered, making her way over to retrieve her gloves. "I've gone through everything in the notes. The attempt was pretty severe."

You nodded, taking in the gravity of the situation. The silence was broken only by the soft beeping of the monitors as you both began your work. Each movement was deliberate, and each procedure executed with precision and empathy. You adjusted the IV drip, checked the vital signs, and made sure everything was in order.

Sometime later, Helen had left, her pager going off as her presence was needed with another incoming patient.  The room seemed to hold its breath, but it was only you. The machine to your right, making sure the woman was still breathing.

You read over her notes once more.

“Female, 5’7…” You ramble aimlessly to no one as you find yourself unable to voice the rest.

The laceration on her neck caught your attention. The wound stretched across her delicate skin, a jagged seam where the surgeons' skilled hands had meticulously stitched the deep gash closed. The edges of the cut were puckered slightly, evidence of the trauma dealt with by the knife paramedics found next to her unconscious body. Judging by the shape, it seemed like she plunged rather than sliced, the offending weapon, then, pulled out instead of left inside. She was quite malnourished, her cheeks hollowed out, collarbone visible as the gown drowned her thin figure. She lacked a sufficient amount of muscle. You wondered how someone could go unnoticed without eating for several days. It was as if she had become a ghost, fading away in plain sight.

The woman looked ill - eyes sunken with abnormally pale skin. Drifting down her body, you noticed her legs. A horrified gasp threatened to leave your lips.  Raised red lines covered the expanse of her legs, some scabbed up, some clear burn marks that had turned into blisters. Her arms were just as bad, marred with a history of wounds that ran from her wrists to her shoulders.

Behind all the equipment, her face was almost unrecognisable. Her hair was what stood out the most, the auburn curls matted with blood. A sense of familiarity washed over you, the red striking your curiosity.

You couldn't tear your gaze away as you watched her stir. Unsure if she was waking or simply moving unconsciously, you remained still, not wanting to startle her. But then her face contorted with pain, and her lashes began to flutter open.

The sheets rustled as she tried to turn, her discomfort evident from the way she struggled against the tubes and wires tethering her to the medical machinery. You couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her, lying there in such a vulnerable state. No identity. No family to be there for her.

"Stay still, please.” You whispered softly, stepping closer to her bedside. “You're in the hospital. You’re safe."

Her eyes, clouded with pain and confusion, met yours for a fleeting moment before flickering away. She seemed to be trying to process where she was and what had happened.

“Paramedics found you unconscious and rushed you in.” You explained gently, hoping to offer some semblance of clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. “You had a wound to the neck. We’ve managed to close it, so don’t move around too much. Otherwise, you might open the stitches.”

Her gaze drifted back to you, and for a moment there was a flicker of recognition in her eyes. It was fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You saw as she went to speak, only to find pain and a heavy weight against her tongue. “Careful. You shouldn’t try to speak yet. We’re not sure how much damage has been done to your vocal cords.”

As if she didn’t hear you, she continued fidgeting, fighting against the intrusion in her mouth, panic overriding.

“Hey, listen to me,” you coaxed, voice soft but firm, your hand reaching out to settle over hers, the glove long forgotten. “I need you to calm down, please. You’re going to be okay. You just need to rest your voice.”

Her eyes darted to you, wide with fear and frustration, and you squeezed her hand gently, offering what little comfort you could.

“It’s going to be alright, just take slow breaths. Focus on that.” You started to breathe deeply, deliberately, hoping she'd follow your lead. Inhale... exhale... in a steady rhythm, like waves lapping against the shore

As you continued to focus on stabilising her breathing, your eyes inadvertently met hers, and in that moment, you were drawn into the depths of those vibrant green orbs. They held a world of pain, swirling like a tempestuous storm beneath the surface. Yet, amidst the turmoil, there's a glimmer of familiarity that tugged at the corners of your memory.

There’s something about her you can’t make sense of.

 Why does she look so familiar? Who is she?

“Do I know you?” You almost asked, but then suddenly, the door to the waiting room clicked open, and Helen strode in, her expression wavering as she noticed the woman awake. “She’s awake already?!” Shock and bewilderment visible on her face.

She advanced, quickly spewing off questions in your direction, as her eyes narrowed in on the woman, assessing her condition with a quick, practised glance.

"She's awake, a little panicked about being in a hospital, but also a bit disoriented," you explained, voice calm despite the urgency of the situation. "Vitals are stable for now.”

With that, you stepped away, dropping her hand you had forgotten you were still holding, as Helen went to introduce herself. Your lunch break was coming up and before you could turn to leave the room, Helen stopped you. "Thank you for staying with her," she said softly, "There was a car accident. Two little girls rushed in for surgery. They needed me."

You nodded in understanding. You couldn’t fault her. Every day seemed to bring a new challenge, a new story, and today was no different. This Jane Doe was no different.

Before you could delve deeper into your thoughts, she interrupted, “Anyways, I’m here now and pager is off,” she drew your attention to the device in her pocket, “Boss’s order...  now go take your lunch break.”

With a small smile, you left the room, the door softly closing behind you. Walking down the hallways, your mind buzzed with curiosity about the woman. Her face – those eyes - nagged at the edges of your memory, like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

Where do I know you from, Jane Doe?

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader

[adventures-in-mangaland]

I'm going with 10 All Time Classics from the Captain America (MCU) fandom. I mean, they're all classics to me, at least. In no particular order:

1. This, You Protect by owlet

First installment in the Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail series, which are all amazing. It's a “Bucky escaping Hydra and rebuilding his sense of self” fic, which he does while spying on Steve. With eventual Avengers Family and a lovely cast of OCs bonding with Bucky in the meantime. It has a very distinctive perspective and writing style; Bucky's in constant internal (and sometimes accidentally external) dialogue with himself, making it hilarious and tragic all at the same time. I love it. I've recently been getting into The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells and this Bucky has a similar sassy-but-vulnerable vibe? Read this if you like that, anyway.

2. The One Who Knows by Dira Sudis (dsudis)

This is a Political Animals AU, in that no-powers Steve is inserted into the Political Animals world and Bucky is TJ. Discusses being outed and depression but is ultimately hopeful. The author is one of my all time faves and has written lots of great stories for this and many other fandoms.

3. Blue Scales by chaya

Steve is a merman AU. He's still Captain America, though. It's crack with heart, I love it.

Best line: "May your scales and your love story be our weird secret forever.”

4. Our Lingering Frost by eyres

AU where Bucky is rescued from Hydra in the 50s (?) and so is around for Steve to be found.

5. Assets Out of Containment by follow_the_sun

It's a classic to *me*, OK? Bucky goes undercover at Jurassic World just as that movie's plot kicks off. They're Hydra dinosaurs! It's just great. Also has a podfic and crossovers with Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

6. Not Easily Conquered (series) by dropdeaddream and WhatAreFears

Some of the greatest fanfiction I've ever read, the whole series is epic. Anyway, it's a "Steve doesn't go into the ice" AU with added queer angst when (never sent) love letters from Bucky resurface. I particularly like the second installment in the series The Thirteen Letters, which are just Bucky's letters and are insanely well-written.

7. to memory now I can't recall by Etharei

Time travel AU! Featuring post-CATWS Bucky accidentally switching places with CATFA era Bucky.

8. If Wishing Made It So by Leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)

Genie!Bucky AU! This author is great at writing AUs with fantasy/genre elements, it was hard to choose. They've also written an excellent werewolf!Steve AU and a horse!Steve AU that I really love.

9. Into That Good Night by Nonymos

An Interstellar AU! Very angsty and tragic but with an eventual happy ending.

10. Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square by Speranza

Speranza must be one of the best writers in the fandom, so it was hard to pick just one of their fics. Other strong contenders were All the Angels and the Saints and The Fifties, so check those out too! But this one has a special place in my heart. Steve, Tony and Natasha accidentally time travel to WW2 London, leading to an accidental run-in with CATFA-era Bucky. The author does tragic and romantic time travel tropes so well, but with a happy ending.

I now realise that most of these are AUs, so here’s a bonus rec for a non-AU in-universe story that’s severely underrated and deserves more love:

+1

Heart, Have No Pity on this House of Bone by Sena

This story follows Bucky in-action in the Pacific Theatre. It’s very well written and, from what I can tell, well researched. Steve only appears in Bucky’s imagination and the story focuses on the horrors of war rather than romance, but it’s gripping! And it explores unrequited love, being closeted and period-typical homophobia, which I also enjoyed. I’m still holding out hope for a sequel.

#wow throwback #found this in my drafts #originally intended for international fanworks day #yikes #anyway #fic recs #fic rec friday #international fanworks day #captain america #fanfiction #mcu #stucky #nostalgia #kind of an old fandom for me now #but still #classic fics #fandom classics #stucky fic recs #stucky fic #my fic recs #my fic rec posts

[wintersoldiersoul]

Bucky x reader- super angsty but fluff ending

In a relationship, bucky doesn't want reader going on mission because it's a hydra Misson, they argue and don't talk to each other, bucky hears reader get hurt and he hears her say "im sorry buck, i love you" and then her comms go out and he can't do anything to help because he's pinned down and by the time he gets to her she's bleeding out and passed out and bucky is breaking down apologising and saying he didn't mean anything of what he said etc and I dunno how you would wanna end it

A/N: So sorry it took me so long to get to this request!! I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: mentions of blood, injuries, throwing up, lots of angst and fluff

“Bucky, stop it!” You shouted. “I’m going on this mission, okay? I can handle myself.” You had been having this fight all morning. The mission you were going on was extremely dangerous. You were basically marching right into the center of Hydra. 

“I am begging you,” Bucky pleaded. “I can’t let anything happen to you.”

“You do realize I’m a superhero in my own right? I don’t need you to protect me!” You snapped back. You knew he just wanted to protect you, but the fact that he acted like you weren’t capable of this made you angry. You had spent years fighting with the Avengers back when he was still the Winter Soldier. You had fought aliens and bionic humans and monsters. You didn’t need him to help you.

“I know but you don’t understand. They know we’re together. That means you have a target on your back. They’d do anything to hurt you because it would hurt me!” You almost felt bad but you had to stand up for yourself. You weren’t some helpless little girl.

“You’re being stupid! I thought you were smarter than this, Y/N. You’re acting like a child!” Bucky said, matching the stern tone of your voice.

“I don’t care! Let me be stupid then!” You left your room, slamming the door on your way out to go meet everyone at the jet. Bucky followed shortly after and the team got ready to leave. 

The two of you didn’t say a word to each other on the flight across the world to Europe. The tension between the two of you hung heavy in the air, casting a fog over the entire jet. Everyone could tell something was going on, but no one dared to ask. Your relationship was incredibly passionate - full of love that could burn the world down. But the same principle applied when you fought.

You were paired up with Natasha, splitting off from Bucky, Steve, and Tony when you arrived. You subtly snuck around the Hydra base, using your spy skills to remain hidden. You had been trained by the Red Room like Natasha, turning you into a silent killer full of stealth and surprises.

“Status?” Bucky spoke through the com device in your ear.

When you didn’t immediately make a move to respond, Natasha filled him in. “There’s agents everywhere. We’re hidden right now but we gotta make a move soon.”

“Same here,” Bucky answered.

An agent passed by but didn’t spot the two of you. All at once, you and Natasha passed, jumping onto the man's shoulders from behind and snapping his neck. “One down, a hundred to go,” you smirked at Nat. You could do this. You could prove to Bucky that you didn’t need his help.

Steve updated everyone, panting through the coms that they were deep into battle now. You and Natasha took a more subtle approach, trying to remain as hidden as possible before sneaking up and stealthily taking out agents as you could. Everything was going well. It was all under control.

Until you felt the gun against your head.

“Don’t move a damn muscle,” a low russian accent purred in your ear. “I’ve got you right where I want you,” he said, dragging the gun from your temple around to the base of your neck. Your arms were pinned behind you. You couldn’t move.

Natasha was too far away, locked into her own battle with an agent. A battle that she was winning but one that could easily go wrong if she turned her focus. You wanted to scream out but you were terrified that if you did, the man would shoot.

In the blink of an eye, the man who was holding you pulled out a knife and sliced your thigh deeply. You couldn’t help the cry that escaped your mouth as he did it, grabbing Natasha’s attention just as she finished off her victim.

“Y/N!” She ran over to you but was sidetracked by another agent stepping in her path.

“What’s going on?” Bucky’s voice rang out in your ears. “Y/N? Natasha?” Panic was evident in his voice. “Someone talk to me!”

“Bucky!” You cried out, hoping he would show up any second to save you. “Help me!”

The Hydra agent laughed, hearing your calls for the man. “You’re Barnes’ girl, aren’t you?” He laughed, coldly. “Oh, we’re gonna have fun.” His voice sent chills down your spine.

“Y/N, what’s going on? Where are you?” His voice came through your ear.

“I-I don’t know!” You answered. “He-has me!”

“I’m coming, baby, I’m coming. Are you hurt?”

You were still terrified each time you answered, expecting that the man would pull the trigger every time you opened your mouth. But if these were your last moments, you wanted to spend them talking to the love of your life.

“Y-yes,” you choked out.

“Alright, I think I’ve been nice enough to let this go on for so long,” the russian accent spoke before ripping the comms out of your ear and smashing it on the ground.

“No!” You cried out. The blood you were losing from your leg was already making you feel dizzy. A puddle of crimson from your body began to pool on the ground. 

“I was gonna shoot you in the head,” the man behind you whispered in your ear, making you feel sick. “But it would be such a shame to mess up this pretty face.”

Before you could even register what was going on, the gun was pressed to your back and a bullet was fired into your body. He shot you two more times. The man laughed as he walked away, leaving you to bleed out alone on the floor. Natasha had left, you had no idea where she had gone. She didn’t mean to abandon you, she really thought you’d be able to get out of your situation on your own while she completed the mission.

Across the building, Bucky was frantic. “Y/N? Talk to me! Where are you, baby?” He was panicking. One minute you were talking to him and then you were just…gone. His worst fear was coming true.

He sprinted as far as he could, dodging Hydra agents left and right, taking them out with the metal arm that they had put on his body.  He swore he had never run faster in his entire life. He knew back at their post, Steve and Tony were still fighting, yelling at him as he sprinted away. He knew he’d be in trouble later. But he didn’t care. He only cared about you.

But he was intercepted by more agents. Suddenly, he was pinned down, completely unable to move. “Y/N!” He yelled out again while he thrashed. He didn’t even care that these men would probably kidnap him again. Turn him back into the Winter Soldier. All he cared about was reaching you.

He tried as hard as he could, thrashing and squirming. Time was running out. He didn't know exactly what had happened to you, but he knew you didn't have long. Especially with the nature of the enemy you were dealing with.

After minutes of trying to escape the agent's grasp, he was able to free his metal arm, punching hard and knocking down the agent who had his legs. He was then able to use more strength to fight, taking down each person who had tried to separate him from the love of his life.

He was sick when he saw you, bending over to throw up at the sight in front of him. You were laying on the ground, still as a rock. Blood stained the concrete below you. He swore he had never seen so much blood come from one person at once. 

“Y/N!” He screamed out, running over to you. Your eyes were closed. “Y/N, wake up! Wake up, please!” He cried. “Oh my god, please!” He chanted over and over, trying to get you to open your eyes while putting pressure on you to stop the bleeding as much as possible. 

Suddenly there was a gasp from your frame. “B-bucky!” You called out weakly using every ounce of strength you could. “I love you.” 

“I love you, angel. So much. I didn’t mean a word I said! Please just hang on! Please! I can’t watch you die right now.” Tears streamed down his face as he spoke.

"So...tired," you said weakly, your eyes fluttering between opened and closed.

"I know, baby, I know," he stroked your hair. "But you gotta stay awake, okay? You gotta fight."

"What's going on, Buck?" Steve spoke in his ear.

"It's bad, Steve. I gotta get her to a hospital. Now," he said, through tears.

"Alright. It's clear now. You can take her."

Bucky swore time moved in slow motion as you waited for an ambulance. He held your hand the entire time, terrified every time your eyes closed for more than a second. You kept drifting in and out of consciousness even as the paramedics began to work on you in the vehicle. He couldn't believe this was really happening. If he lost you, his entire world would stop.

9 hours and an emergency surgery later, you were still unconscious but stable. He sat by your hospital bed, eyes red from crying, still holding your hand.

"Baby, I don't know if you can hear me right now," he said to your unconscious body. "But I need you to wake up. I need you to come back to me. I can't do this without you, I-" he paused as his voice broke. "I never thought I'd have any good in my life again. And then I found you. And I can't lose you. I don't know what I'll do. I don't know who I am without you." Tears wet his face as he spoke. "Please, baby. My darling. Please, come back to me."

He didn't leave your side all night. He waited and waited for hours, not sleeping or eating. He was terrified to not be watching you even for a second.

The sun was rising the next morning and he was exhausted and scared and he just wanted you. His head was in his metal hand as he cried, still holding yours with his flesh one, when he felt it. It was small, but he felt it. The subtle squeeze from your hand. "Y/N?" he said, immediately lifting his head.

You groaned softly, eyes still closed. "Am I dead?" You asked as you very slowly opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the light.

"No, baby," he sniffed, getting up and kissing your forehead. "You're not dead. You're alive. Oh my god, you're alive."

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #winter soldier #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #catws #bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #sebastian stan fanfiction #marvel fluff #bucky barnes angst

[stardustdreams-andcaffeine]

Rain Therapy | Bucky Barnes

bucky barnes x fem!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: The line between friends and lovers is impossibly thin, yet somehow the hardest line to cross. It's a line that you and Bucky just can't seem to break, but it's nothing one of Tony's infamous parties can't fix.

A/N: Another fluffy one for me, which is still something I'm growing used to writing. I'm getting anxious for some angst, so ask me for some and I'll see what I can do!

Warnings: two idiots in love, slight angst, tooth-rotting fluff, language, allusions to smutty content, jealous Bucky

Word Count: 7,206

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

The whisper of lightning, the promise of thunder, the answer of rain. The sky darkens and the sun is forgotten, casting a gloomy light on the earth below.

And yet, in the midst of all that chaos, I find it to be a chemical mixture for peace.

“Y/N, Y/N what the hell are you doing out there?”

That illusion of peace shatters, and I let out low groan, keeping my eyes shut as the raindrops fall down on my form outstretched on the pavement.

“I was having a peaceful moment of bliss until someone decided now was an opportune time to bother me,” I call back.

“An opportune time to-” I hear him cut off incredulously, muttering something to himself as heavy, booted feet slosh through the rain to reach me, “Get off the damn driveway, doll. You’re gonna get sick.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a myth,” I respond, staying pleasantly where I lay right in front of the Avengers Compound.

“Myth my ass, now get up and inside before I throw you over my shoulder and do it for you.”

I click my tongue, not having to open my eyes to know my best friend is standing right beside me, “So much violence, so much language. You should join me, some inner peace would do you good.”

Thunder cracks above, rumbling through the earth and into my bones. Even though I don’t hear his steps moving away, Bucky goes silent beside me. I begin to think he’s taking me up on my offer of a little rain therapy.

“See,” I sigh into the cacophony of nature, “Isn’t that peaceful? Maybe-”

I don’t even have time to react when a pair of strong arms, one of them freezing cold due to the metal in the rain, grab my waist and lift me clear off the floor. My eyes snap open with a jolt as I see myself being thrown over Bucky’s shoulder just like he promised.

“What the-” I stop myself as he secures me with his arm dangerously near my ass and slap his broad, muscular back, “You little bitch!”

“A little bitch who’s gonna keep you from getting a cold,” Bucky responds, and I can hear the smugness in his tone from back here, “Is the rain still peaceful?”

“No, there’s a jackass who got in the way.”

I feel his body rumble with laughter, feel the noise pass through my body and make my heart tumble in its cage. With that, his arm edging near a zone that’s clearly more than friends, and the sight of his wet t-shirt stuck to his back, I feel the anger flood from my body. Instead, I find myself thinking about what his abs look like with his rain-soaked shirt pressed against them.

Damn it, I’ve really got it bad.

I try my hardest to shove the image from my mind, but it only sticks harder and makes the spot where Bucky’s hand rests burn. I notice his metal hand on the other side, rain dripping off of it, and I can’t help but let my mind trace to-

I halt my thinking abruptly. He’s your best friend, he’s your best friend, he’s your best friend.

He’s my unfairly hot, broody, and annoyingly heart-fluttering best friend

With his free hand, Bucky shoves open the front doors to the Avenger’s Compound, walking a few steps until we enter one of the large, high-ceiling living areas where a television blasts a movie.

“I told you,” Tony announces after the group of my friends and teammates sees Bucky walking in with me on his shoulder, “Sam, you owe me five bucks.”

“Put me down, terminator,” I grunt, to which Bucky finally sets me on my feet.

Immediately I go to hit him, but the sudden change in my body’s gravity sends me off balance slightly. I stumble back slightly, trying to make the blood rush from my head so I can balance again.

“Woah, careful there, Bambi,” Bucky laughs, gripping onto my waist to help steady me.

Where his hands touch, metal and skin alike, my skin sets on fire. The radiating electricity from his touch only annoys me further and I shove out of his hands, swatting his chest.

“I’m fine,” I grumble, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze and holding a finger in his face like a scolding parent, “Next time you manhandle me, I’m going to remove your arm like Ayo showed me.”

Bucky smirks at me coolly and says something, but I miss it because my eyes drop down to where his t-shirt sticks to his abs from the rain. Just like I imagined it would, it makes my mouth go dry and my heartbeat miss a step.

“See something you like?” Bucky taunts.

Cheeks flushed, I look up at him calmly and smile, “Just thinking about what a shame a body like that is wasted on the grumpiest man alive.”

The group of Avengers lounging around the various chairs and couches in the living room snicker, their attention drawn from the television. He lifts an eyebrow at me and those infuriating steel blue eyes ricochet my pulse.

“Sure you were.”

“Whatever,” I mumble, turning and looking at team, “Who bet against me?”

Tony, Bruce, Wanda, and Nat lifts their hands and I gasp, pressing a hand to my chest in feigned hurt.

“Traitors,” I grumble, not being able to stop the smile that wants to twitch onto my lips as Bucky walks up beside me and rests his arm on my shoulder.

“They bet right, didn’t they?”

I look up at him with the half-smile I wasn’t able to stop, “Screw you,”

I turn around and leave the living room, making my way towards my room so I can shower and change. From behind me, I hear Bucky’s laugh that sears itself into my memory.

“Love you too, doll!” He calls out, and my heart launches into my throat.

He doesn’t mean it like I want him to, not like how I mean it. Not like how I've meant it for months.

As I finally get to the confines of my bedroom, I shut to the door and let out a trembling breath. I keep my back pressed to the door for a moment, leaning my head against it and forcing myself to forget the way his hands felt, to strike from my memory the beauty of his laugh. When I finally peel off my wet clothes and step into a scalding hot shower, I let the water and steam surround me long after I'm already clean.

I'm a coward, a coward and a fool for falling for my best friend and not being able to say a word to him about it.

Long after I'm out of the shower and cuddled up with a book on my bed, a knock sounds on my door. I've barely glanced up at it in confusion when Natasha's voice calls out, "I know you're probably reading a book but put it down and let me in unless you want me to break down the door."

A half-smile tugs onto my lips and I set my book aside, untangling myself from my covers and opening the door for my friend. She gives me a smug smile and waltzes in, plopping down on my bed. I can't help but shake my head at her as she makes herself at home.

"Why are all of my friends so violent?" I taunt, sitting down next to her.

"Most of us are trained assassins." Nat gives me a playful nudge, already lifting my spirits from the gloom and doom they were resting in. Her knowing gaze immediately notifies me that I can't escape the conversation to come, so I don't even bother to skirt around it.

"Why does my life suck?" I groan, dropping down onto my back dramatically. Nat laughs beside me, shaking her head down at me.

"So many questions tonight," She remarks, following the words with a tired sigh and laying down beside me. As we both stare up at my ceiling, my mind is held captive by one person. Both it and my heart have been held hostage and I'm starting to understand the truth in Stockholm Syndrome.

"You know, and brace yourself because this is gonna blow your mind, you could just tell him how you feel," Nat advises.

"And risk ruining everything that we already have?" I reply, my brows creased in an ever-present state of worry, "I could live with being friends with him forever as long as it meant I still had him in my life. But if I tell him how I feel and it changes everything to the point where he can't even be around me?"

I take a charged pause, startled by the sudden rise of emotion. I swallow down the burning pain, but ultimately I decide to go easy on my breaking heart. The poor thing doesn't know any better. All it knows is that it wants Bucky Barnes and I keep locking it and its desires into a cage of bones in my chest.

"A life without him...I couldn't live like that."

Nat sits up beside me, catching my attention in time to see the sympathy flashing across her features, "Y/N, I know it's scary but if you'd just trust me I think the outcome would surprise you."

She can tell that I'm still not convinced, so in a last ditch effort to rally me from my slumber of inaction, she reaches across me and grabs the book I was reading. I sit up, a protest just starting on my tongue as I reach for it. She pulls it out of my reach and holds it in front of her chest, displaying the cover for me to see.

"Do any of the characters in these books ever fare well from denying their passions?" Nat asks, and I find that she has me in a figurative corner, "Do their stories end well when they decide, 'Nah, I'm too scared to tell him I love him'?"

"I don't love him," I protest, but the lie is sour on my tongue and allergic to my soul. It gets rejected so quickly by everything within me that I almost think I'll have a physical reaction to it.

"Bullshit." Nat challenges, setting the book aside and grabbing my hands. I shake my head, trying to escape her arguments that my heart jumps in agreement with.

It's a brutal thing, to have your heart yearn for one thing and your mind so resolutely against it. I've always thought it strange how the dichotomy of desires could root in a person, but it makes sense in a way. The heart is led by our passions, our intuitive cravings. The mind is hardwired by nature and instinct to protect us, to propel our survivals.

Even if that means our passions must be slaughtered.

I'm keeping my mind in charge by sheer will that's hanging precariously over the edge of a cliff. My will only has a few fingers left to hold with, and I can feel it slipping every day Bucky's near me, every time his skin brushes mine, every time he simply is.

“I need to move on,” I almost desperately announce, gripping handfuls of my sweatshirt to keep from crying, “I need a way to move or this is going to kill me. He’s going to kill me.”

Sympathetic to my distress, Natasha lays a reassuring hand on my shoulder, “You know, with Tony’s Semi-Annual Charity Gala coming up this weekend it’s the perfect time to move on.”

I perk up slightly, the thought breaking a sliver of hope in the pit of despair and self-pity I allow to well up. For an Avenger, I sure know how to wallow in pain.

“…or make a move on a certain super soldier.” Nat continues.

“Don’t be silly, I’d never steal Steve away from you,” I jest, my tone wavering but stronger than before. Nat rolls her eyes from beside me before shoving my shoulder. With a sigh, I finally meet my friend’s gaze, “One last chance. One chance and then I’m putting myself out of my misery”

That’s so easily said. The unspoken truth is that my poor heart doesn’t stand a chance. It hasn’t for a long time.

“Great!” Nat smiles, squeezing me into a side hug on the bed, “I’ll start planning your outfit now!”

And with that, she’s off my bed and into my closet. As we spend the better part of the night deciding on what to wear to the upcoming gala, I can’t help but let my mind stray to its usual focus. With a groan of exhaustion, I drop my head into my hands and tell myself that same lie.

“He’s my best friend. That’s all.”

It’s getting harder and harder to believe.

|||

A few days later

It's been a few days since the rain incident, and I've finally managed to garner a moment alone from everyone. It's not that I don't love being around them, but it taxes me more than I care to admit to be around him.

A forlorn sigh brushes past my lips, but as I nestle down on the floor in the library Tony had put into the Compound, I find my worries drifting away. Instead, they're replaced with the story in the pages, rapturing my attention and distracting my mind.

That is, until the door opens and I feel his presence before I see or hear him.

"There you are, doll. I've been looking for you all day," Bucky calls, his deep, smooth voice cascading into my very soul. I shut my eyes for a moment, trying desperately to not let it show on my face how jarring it was to be snapped from the book to the person I've been trying to avoid.

"You've been looking for me?" I ask, managing to make my voice seem calm and pleasant. He approaches where I'm sitting on the floor, a breath-stealing smile tugging at his lips.

"Course I have, I haven't seen you in days," He replies, his face the picture of relaxed calm, drawing a fierce dichotomy to the barely-veiled confliction on my own. Bucky takes a moment, surveying me sitting on the floor amidst all of the chairs and couches available. He lifts an amused brow at me.

"Why are you on the floor?"

I can't stop myself from smiling up at him and all control I had in keeping myself away from him disintegrates, "It's more comfortable to me. Are you judging me Barnes?"

His laugh bursts light into the depths of me, and as I watch his face relax I can't help but look on in awe at how far he's come. When he first joined the team, he was withdrawn and quiet and even grumpier than he is now. He never smiled, never laughed, and barely spoke. Now, of course he's adorably grumpy most of the time, but he smiles and laughs. He enjoys life, and he more than anyone else in this world deserves to enjoy life.

"What're you reading?" Bucky asks, and I try to ignore the way my pulse rockets up when he settles down beside me on the floor.

He stretches out his long legs, keeping the one furthest from me bent and resting his arm on top it. His other leg is stretched out and nearly touching my own. To help balance his weight, he settles the hand closest to me, his metal hand, onto a spot on the floor behind my back. The position makes his chest brush against my shoulder ever so slightly and all I can feel is the burning of his presence and the searing of his gaze.

"Just some fantasy book," I reply, not wanting to bore him.

I look over at him to see his eyes already on my face, his own radiating a serene peace. He furrows his brows at my prolonged examination of his features and the ghost of a smile twitches at the corner of his lips, "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just," My mouth has gone dry again, and I can't seem to clear the haze on my mind, "You look at peace."

"Well someone pretty incredible suggested rain therapy, which works like a charm for my grumpiness."

A laugh bubbles out of me, only widening the smile on his face. I find myself subconsciously leaning into his presence and bringing our faces closer.

"Seriously," Bucky continues, making me realize our proximity and pull back to a normal distance, "I'm always at peace around you."

My heart doesn't just miss a step, it stumbles and falls and nearly gives out in my chest. His words affect every part of me and it's a feat of pure resilience that I don't reach over and press my lips to his.

"Unless you're doing something stupid and testing my nerves," He adds on, lightening the air and making me giggle. He nods towards the almost forgotten book in my hands.

"You were going to tell me about your new read," Bucky reminds, and I smile.

I spend the next ten minutes detailing what's happening in the book, my excitement about it taking over and making me ramble on without barely taking any breaths. I occasionally look between the book and Bucky, sometimes gesturing with my hands to establish my enthusiasm.

Even when I'm not looking at him, Bucky's gaze never leaves my face.

So much for giving myself space to try and move on from him. That thought is far from my mind, though. The longer I’m near him, the closer he is, the harder it is to remember to forget him. And now, with Tony’s Gala tomorrow night, I don’t know how I’m going to move on.

Maybe I really can give this one last shot. It could break me if it goes wrong, but I have a feeling I’ll break a little regardless.

|||

The next night

Not even the pounding of the music and the chatter and clatter of hundreds of guests can drown out my racing mind.

“Stop tugging at your dress, you look great,” Natasha chides from beside me.

With a huff of anxiety, I heed her words and stop fiddling with the snug material of the one-sleeved dress. It hugs my curves down to my waist before draping elegantly to the floor, broken only by the high slit up the thigh.

“I know,” I reply, downing my second drink of the night and setting down the empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter with a brief smile, “I just haven’t seen him yet. He’s coming right? Tony told us all to be here, so he wouldn’t just-”

“Why does there have to be so many people here?”

My words die out at the distant but unmissable rumble of words behind me. I turn around, and my entire world seems to focus on the epicenter that is Bucky Barnes as he walks in beside Sam Wilson.

“It’s a party man, I thought you loved parties back in the day,” Sam replies, smiling at a few people as he walks in.

“Yeah well I don’t like people like I did then,” Bucky grumbles back, messing with the edges of his all-black suit that is tailored so perfectly that it hones every inch of his body.

His broad shoulders, his muscular form, his piercing blue eyes in a fierce dichotomy with the darkness of the getup…I almost trip in my heels.

“You don’t like any people? That breaks my heart, Barnes,” I manage out coolly, walking up to the pair with a half-smile tugging on my lips and my heart dancing with the butterflies within.

Bucky’s gaze turns from the party goers to where I walk up to them, and a part of me melts at the way a light filters into his features. His dashing smile makes my own grow before I can stop it. The way he simply stops for a moment and stares at me, as if the throngs of people around us don’t exist…

It’s more than an effort to shove my poor heart into its shackles.

“I guess you’re an exception, doll,” He amends, and Sam rolls his eyes beside Bucky as they stop before me.

“It’s not like I’m right here,” Sam announces, making me giggle slightly and look to him.

“Hey Sam, good to see you,” I greet, walking over and hugging the man. He hugs me back, smiling brightly.

“Good to see you too,” Sam responds, his eyes catching on something over my shoulder, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe there are some fans who need me.”

I laugh as I watch him walk over and greet a group of women by the bar. When I turn back to Bucky, I shove down my nerves and shake my head as I pull him into a hug.

“You look incredible, Buck,” I announce, trying to ignore the rightness of his body against mine as he pulls me into a hug that lasts a moment more than I should have let it.

“Y/N,” he deadpans, pulling back but leaving his arms on my waist to admire me. His eyes sparkle with something akin to awe that makes hope rise in my chest, “You put me and everyone else in this room to shame.”

“You obviously haven’t looked in a mirror,” I remark, desperately trying to not show all over my face how beautiful he is.

Bucky just smiles. He looks at me and he smiles and I am undone.

My eyes catch on Natasha over Bucky’s shoulder as she mingles in the background of the party. When our gazes meet she gestures to Bucky with a hand, mounting the words ‘Come on’ as she does. Nodding back to her, I remember the conversation we had a few days ago and right before we joined the gala. I have to be bold and make a move, take a chance before I lose the ability to do so.

“So,” I turn back to Bucky, smiling knowingly up at him, “How’re you doing with the whole party thing?”

Bucky takes in a breath, nodding his head slightly as he surveys the party scene around us. Drinks are flowing, laughs rising, and music is permeating through every sector of the Avengers Compound. The floor shakes with the base and the clattering of shoes as he looks back to me, “Oh you know, just fantastic.”

“Is that so?” I taunt, almost laughing at the dripping sarcasm in his voice. He shoots me a grumpy glare that finally unleashes my laugh. At the sound, Bucky’s features soften and a smile touches his lips. I notice this and furrow my brows up at him.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Bucky whispers, just holding that’s soft smile in his eyes that makes me almost forget the track of the conversation. When I snap myself from my daze, I gasp.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” I exclaim, holding my clutch up and opening it to find what I stashed earlier, “I know how you are with parties like this and all so I thought that this might help make it a better memory.”

“You got me a gift?” Bucky asks, shaking his head at me with furrowed brows, “You should have told me, I would’ve gotten you something too!”

I shake my head, finally finding what I’m looking for and glancing up at Bucky, “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?”

With a bright smile to cover my pounding, anxious heart, I hold out the small book in my hands. Bucky glances down at the gift I hold out, and I watch his body go still. Anticipation dances in my belly as he ever so gently reaches out and takes the old, fading The Hobbit novel into his hands.

“It’s a first edition, don’t ask me how I found it,” I inform, playing with the fabric of my dress to give my now empty hands something to do, “I know how much you loved it and now when you’re watching me read in the library, you can read too.”

My words ring out between us, and yet Bucky barely moves. Just when I’m beginning to grow nervous, my heart melts into a puddle in my chest when he lifts his steel-eyed gaze to me. I’ve never seen him cry before, but here and now I can see the lining of unshed tears in his gaze.

“Buck-"

He closes the distance between us, pulling me so close to him that there’s no room for separation. I melt into the hug, becoming nothing more than an extension of his body. There’s no him. There’s no me. There’s only us as we’re suspended in time, caught in this moment.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he mumbles, not moving back an inch and letting his voice cascade over my neck and down my spine, “You don’t know what this means to me.”

Reluctantly, I pull back. Every part of me shouts in protest, but I know we have to separate as some point. I give him a soft smile, trying to ignore the noose that’s slowly tightening around my heart. I’m a goner. I have no chance of recovery.

“Don’t mention it,”

Bucky stares at me for another moment, the charged silence soon taking on an anticipated feel. We’re both waiting for the other to make the first move, I can sense it. I see Nat nudge me from afar again and decide to finally muster up my courage and stop waiting. I notice Bucky shakes his head at something, mumbling something to himself, but I press on.

“Hey, do you wanna da-”

“I’m gonna go get a drink,” Bucky bursts out at almost the same instant, making me cut off my sentence quickly.

A drink? He’s going to get a drink right now, as soon as I was about to ask him to dance? I know he didn’t mean it as a rejection, but it still stings like one.

“Oh, uh yeah sure. That’s-”

Before I can even finish speaking, Bucky has darted away desperately towards the bar at the North side of the room near Sam. I stand dumbfounded, my heart slowly sinking. This is going to be much harder than I thought.

|||

It's been nearly an hour and a half and Bucky is still managing to be everywhere that I am not.

I can take a hint. Even if that hint shatters my soul a little.

As I watch the super soldier mingle with some of the guests, a polite and slightly annoyed smile on his face, I feel something snap within my chest. Here I am, lounging pathetically at the bar all alone, and there he is, my best friend who I can't seem to fall out of love with. His strong jaw and steel eyes don't dare to turn in my direction, and I feel my fracturing soul crack even more.

I have to let it go. I have to let it go. I have to let him go.

With a long sigh, I pick up the drink before me and down its contents, letting the burn soothe away the edge of the crawling pain in my chest. Once the glass is slammed back down on the bar counter, I steel my nerves and stand.

It's time I stop feeling sorry for myself and move on.

My eyes scan the thick crowd scattered throughout every inch of Tony's gala. Music radiates through every molecule of air, and just one glance at the dance floor has my feet moving before my brain is. As I walk over to the dance floor, I see a random guy standing with a few others. He's cute enough with a charming smile, so I grab his arm as I walk past, making him glance over at me. I flash him my best smile and tug him towards the dance floor.

"Dance with me?" I ask boldly, and his smile widens.

"I'd be honored," He replies, letting me pull him onto the dance floor.

I should let myself be whisked away into the music and the movements and the feel of his hands on my hips as we dance. I should let the base and the crowd and the charming man before me wipe away every thought, but I just...can't. All I can think about when his hands slide gently on my waist is how different it feels when those hands are Bucky's. My heart is crushing slowly, and so I do everything I can to forget it.

It's actually beginning to work until the music abruptly cuts out.

Groans and boo's arise from the crowd with me on the dance floor as we all look around, trying to figure out why the music's stopped. "That's so weird," The nice guy I'm dancing with mumbles. I mention my agreement, my eyes sweeping the edges of the party before I catch a glint of dark metal. My eyes fly back to the metal only to see Bucky storming away from the sound booth, his metal fist clenched so hard that I'm surprised it doesn't malfunction. In his metal grasp is a hunk of wires, and my stomach drops.

He did not.

"Don't worry folks! I'll have the music back up in no time," Tony announces, flashing his winning smile to the crowd as he jogs to the sound booth, "There was a slight malfunction"

I see him shoot Bucky a glare, but true to his words the music is back up in a matter of minutes. I feel anger begin to make my blood boil and I pull away from the guy I was dancing with. I see a frown pull onto his face as he lets me go but follows me a few steps.

"Are you okay?" He calls after me, and my heart twists in sympathy. I must look absolutely furious and he probably thinks it's pointed at him. So, I do my best to give him a sympathetic smile.

"I'm alright, thanks for the dance. I needed it," I comment, before turning and continuing my beeline for the brooding super soldier in the corner. He's standing with Sam, muttering something that I can't hear as I finally break through the crowd and walk up to them.

"Here we go," Sam mumbles, slowly backing away as I come to a stop in front of Bucky.

"What the hell, James?" I grit out.

"Oh she used the first name," Sam comments, his eyes widening, "I'm going to go check on Steve."

Then he leaves, and it's just Bucky and I. Bucky just shrugs, not meeting my furious gaze.

"I don't know what you're so mad about but-"

"Oh really? So you didn't just rip out the sound system?" I accuse, crossing my arms over my chest. He finally turns and meets my gaze, and damn it all I can't stop the swooning of my heart at the dark, rugged look on his face.

I'm angry, I remind myself. I'm angry with him.

"What does that have to do with you, sweetheart?"

I scoff, shaking my head at him, "You are unbelievable! I was finally starting to have a good night and-"

"Dancing with that handsy prick makes your night a good night then?" He interrupts, and I have to fight to keep the smug look off of my face at catching him.

"What were you saying about this having nothing to do with me?" I fire back, lifting an eyebrow. Bucky clenches his jaw and takes a step closer to me, probably expecting me to back off. I don't. Instead, I tilt my head up to meet his gaze, trying and failing to seem taller than him.

"I don't like you dancing with other men like that," Bucky informs, his voice dark. He's so close to me that his whiskey and pine scent invades my senses, threatening to empty my head of the argument at hand.

"I can dance with whoever the hell I want, Barnes. And since certain people made it very clear they didn't want to dance with me, then certain people should have no say in who I dance with"

"I don't dance, Y/N." His eyes are cool fire and they sear right through me. Even in this heated argument, all I can seem to think about is how badly I want him, body and soul. My thoughts are banished when he spits his next words out, "Not with you, not with anyone."

It shouldn't hurt. It shouldn't. So why do I have to fight to keep the hurt off of my face?

Just like that, the fire in my argument is gone. I nod, taking a few steps back, "Okay, that's all you had to say."

And then I turn around and leave before he can see the tears welling in my gaze.

I force myself into the crowd, making sure I move quickly and weave myself between those around me to get away as fast as possible. Then, with my heart in my throat, I finally make it to the outskirts of the party where a glass sliding door leads out into a training field. Through the glass, I can see rain pouring down into the dark, almost moonless night.

Seeing it unravels a bit of the pain within my chest, and I don't even think as I slip off my heels and walk outside. I shut the door behind me, muting the sounds of the party and leaving the downpour of rain and the distant rumble of thunder to take over my senses. I set my heels down carefully and walk out into the field, barely jumping when the cool, refreshing droplets begin to pound into my skin. It's not long before I'm soaked and my entire outfit is ruined. I don't mind, though. I'm not planning on going back there anyways.

I sit down in the grass, not even minding how it dirties my dress, and hug my knees close. When I slip my eyes shut, I'm reminded why I love the rain so much.

In moments like this, I can't distinguish my tears from the rain

I don't know how long I sit like this, my eyes shut and the rain drenching me. Eventually, my body stops shaking from the sobs that have now subsided and any evidence of my breakdown has been washed away. I'm almost at peace when I hear that voice, that stupid, addicting voice, ring out behind me through the storm.

"I'd say you'll catch a cold, but I don't think you'd care much"

I swallow hard, cursing my heart for the way it jumps. I open my eyes, but keep my gaze firmly forward across the training field.

"Especially since it's coming from you," I add on, grateful for the lack of tremor in my words.

"I guess I deserved that one," Bucky concedes softly, his voice getting closer. My body begins to shiver with the anticipation of him being close, the response purely visceral and out of my control. I just hope he thinks it's from the rain.

"You think?" I scoff lightly, not having the strength to be angry anymore.

It's silent for a long while, and I almost begin to think that he's left and gone back inside. I'm proven otherwise when I see Bucky walk out from behind me, standing right in front of where I sit with my knees drawn to my chest. Against my better judgement, I look up.

And there he is, drenched like I am and an unreadable look upon his stupidly handsome face.

"Bucky-"

He extends out his human hand, and my words die, "Dance with me."

Every part of my heart beams, and it’s an effort to keep the fluttering of my heart out of my body language. I pause for a moment, almost as if to give him time to retract his hand. When he doesn’t, I hesitantly meet his gaze.

“I thought you didn’t dance,” I whisper. His half-smile grows as he looks down at me with what almost looks like…adoration.

“I don’t,” Bucky confirms, his voice like sugar and pine, “But for you I’d do anything”

I can’t even try to hide the visceral effect his words have on me. With a thousand butterflies batting in my stomach and my heart beating viscously out of rhythm, I allow a small smile to grow on my lips. A new excitement in my chest, I reach up and slip my hand into his large, rough one calloused with work and time. It fits mine perfectly, as always, and his touch muddles my senses and wakes me up all at once, as always.

As he helps me stand, the rain still pouring down on us, he tugs me close to him so suddenly that I stumble right into his chest. A small laugh escapes my lips as I catch myself on his broad chest. Bucky’s so close, so warm, so intoxicating to me that every fiber of my being yearns for his proximity. I’m nothing but a firing hum of nerves and sparks being this close to him, with a hand on his chest and his arm secured around my waist.

And we dance.

There’s no music, there’s no reason. We just dance. Bucky’s magnificent at it, every step dripping in ease and cool confidence that only makes me love him more. I’m so caught in the moment that every thought of a reciprocated or unrequited love has been banished from my mind. All that exists is here and now, underneath the downpour of the heavens with the cacophony of nature as our song.

He twirls me around, making water splash up and a giggle bubble out of me when I slip and fall directly into him. His body rumbles with low laughter when he catches me stopping my fall. Bucky doesn’t even have to say a word for me to know he’s making fun of me, so I slap his chest with a huff of laughter.

“What?” Bucky’s amused voice is the harmony to the melody of the rain.

“I can feel your judgement from here,” I point out, but before I can raise my lightened gaze to meet his on my own, a metal hand hooks under my chin and gently turns my face up until our eyes clash.

Suddenly, I’m not so humored anymore.

Neither is he, I can tell. The air is different—still light with joy but now corded with something deep, rich, and intangible. His piercing blue eyes seem to be burdened with a million different thoughts, but I can barely bring myself to breathe let alone ask him what is going through his beautiful mind.

Bucky doesn’t say a single word, though. He doesn’t have to. My eyes glance down to his lips for no more than one half of a second, and by the time I’ve returned my gaze to his, he’s closing to distance between us and connecting his lips to mine.

I’ve never understood what is so special about kissing in the rain. I get it now. There’s something so dichotomously beautiful in this moment, in the cold, relentless rain and the desperate, burning heat of Bucky’s lips moving against my own.

Again, no words are needed for us both to understand. This kiss is everything that has been bottling up over our friendship. It’s every quiet moment in the library and loud moment in our arguments. As his hands tug me closer and ignite my skin as if it were burning clean off, as his lips and tongue move with mine, every thought and worry and tear-filled, longing night washes away. The very thought makes me sigh into the kiss, and finally we break apart only for the need for air.

Bucky doesn’t let me pull away an inch.

His arms keep my locked close, his forehead against mine as we both catch our breath. He nudged my nose with his before pulling away only enough to meet my gaze. One hand of his cradles my jaw, his thumb running lazy circles on my cheek.

“Does this mean you like me?” I whisper, a humored glint already lighting my gaze. Bucky laughs roughly, his voice sending shivers down my spine that don't go unnoticed. Rather, the other hand he keeps on my waist lifts to absently trace the path of the shiver, almost making my knees go weak.

“I more than like you,” Bucky quips, a content smile taking over his features. My heart misses a step and I don’t dare to dream.

“You really like me?” I taunt, and another heart-warming laugh pours from those perfect lips.

“You’re gonna make me say it, doll?”

I swallow thickly, my eyes not leaving his. I don’t dare to say another word, leaving the challenge up to him. Bucky sighs, moving the hand he keeps on my spine to cradle the other side of my face, now cupping it in his full grasp. He presses a long, gentle kiss to my lips before pulling back enough to where his lips still graze mine as he speaks.

“I love you, Y/N. Always have. Always will.”

My knees nearly go weak, and suddenly I'm so very grateful for the rain's ability to hide what is a drop and what is a tear. I'd never hear the end of it from him if he knew that's what his confession brought me to. When one of thumbs catches a stray tear, though, I know he's fully aware.

"I love you too, Buck."

Bucky smirks before me, bringing his mouth close to my ear and sending another shiver racing down my spine, "I figured that much out, sweetheart"

"Oh whatever!" I announce, hitting his shoulder but leaning in closer to his mouth that now trails from my jaw back to my lips. He presses a sweet kiss to my lips before holding me close to his chest and looking up into the sky that downpours upon us.

"Rain therapy, I guess it really does work," Bucky remarks.

"I would say I told you so, but-" I'm cut off by Bucky suddenly grabbing me by the waist and throwing me over his shoulder.

"What was that?" Bucky calls up to me, spinning me slightly and only making me giggle louder.

"Bucky, I'm in a dress!" I protest. He slaps my ass smugly and begins to walk with me still over his shoulder back to the compound.

"I know, let's get you out of that"

As my laugh tumbles out of my mouth, it twirls and dances and gets lost with the pounding of the rain and the rolling of the thunder. Once again, I'm in the debt of the rain, and I can't help but smile at it gratefully as my best friend and the love of my life walks triumphantly with me over his shoulder into the midst of Tony's nice party. Neither of us care about the looks we receive, though. Neither of us even notices.

All we see is the rain and each other.

#bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #angst #bucky barnes fluff #fluff #bucky oneshot #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #sam wilson #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader

[hwallazia]

WE KNOW

pairing: park seonghwa x fem! reader

word count: 1,3k

tags: mafia!au, angst? (if you squint), mob boss!seonghwa, undercover agent!reader, mentions of death (reader’s boyfriend), seonghwa threatens reader at the end (not this being necessarily a death threat).

synopsis: your boyfriend’s murder hurt you for so long. So you were going to do the impossible to revenge his death. One cold night, you meet the head of the responsables of your boyfriend’s death. You thought it would be a piece of cake but he was so much smarter that you. | PART TWO

| a/n: of course this is having a part 2 (I’ll eventually post it, I swear) which will contain smut. This is literally word vomit of my thoughts of mob boss! Seonghwa so I’m so sorry for the shortness of this!

You knew it, you knew that what you were doing was wrong, but your body tends to react faster than your own brain.

With your legs shaking and a lump forming in your throat, you stood in front of the majestic door of the 19-story building, knowing everything you were risking by even stepping on the ceramic floor of the hotel’s luxurious floor; your life and on the other hand your work, your boss had been more than clear that case 3498: “Park Seonghwa” would be handled by special forces and more trained and experienced strategists.

You still couldn’t fully understand why you were in front of the gates of hell of your own free will, but you simply couldn’t miss the opportunity to kill the heir of the ‘Wonderland’ cartel, his men being responsible for the death of your boyfriend, which happened a long time ago. More less two years.

When your squad leader announced that there was a possibility of finally destroying this cartel because of its leader’s murder, your eyes shone; you found hope along the way, after having gone through one full of desolation and tragedy.

That’s why you couldn’t just sit back and pretend that the case had never been mentioned. You decided to take matters into your own hands even when your boss explicitly told you to step aside.

And with a deep sigh, you walked into the hotel, the smell of wood and leather sofas filling your nostrils.

You analyzed the environment, noticing certain people casting their gaze on you. Without giving them much importance, you tried to locate your target.

You walked around the place, meeting many familiar faces and wondering where you knew them from; soon the answer came to your mind, they were people you saw, locked in your office —more like a pretty, decorated prison— in criminal records files. Some of them with quite compromising and illicit antecedents. But this wasn’t the time to think about those people.

Of all the people who were in the building, you had to locate one, which, by the way, you weren’t finding anywhere.

You headed to the elevator and pressed the button that had a downward arrow drawn on it. You waited patiently for the ‘ding’ to announce the arrival of the mechanism, and got on the elevator. Once on the floor you wanted to be, you walked down that hallway full of 2-4 person dining tables, until you finally found your target.

The only way you could attract him into your net was by seducing him, so you could make time to call the special forces. No matter how many lectures your boss gave you later, you could finally avenge the death of your beloved boyfriend.

You approached the mysterious man, your maroon dress shedding some of its fabric due to the slit in your right thigh, falling delicately to the floor. It hugged your anatomy, highlighting your exotic curves. Due to the non-accidental rip in your dress, your shiny white heels were on display. You felt beautiful, and you hoped that Mr. Park Seonghwa would fall for your charms as well.

Taking your dress by the sides, being careful not to step on it, you sat down without saying a word at the same table as the enemy. He somehow sensed a foreign presence, so he spoke.

“I wasn’t expecting a companion tonight.” His voice made a delicious shiver run down your spine, straightening your back.

“No handsome man should spend the night alone.” Your feminine and captivating voice made him finally look up and fix his dark, solemn eyes on yours.

“Is that so? Since when?” He raised an eyebrow mischievously.

“Since today, darling.”

A small laugh escaped his lips as he lowered his head to hide the curve that had formed on his lips.

“Okay, doll. I’ll let us share this dinner together,” He straightened up, focusing all his attention on you, “Why, of all the people gathered here, did you decide to sit at my table?”

“Didn’t I say it already? I think you’re cute, so I decided to keep you company.”

“With what purpose?” He leaned over the table, resting his elbows on his sides.

Very good question, with what purpose had you taken the decision, and the courage, to sit at the same table as the devil? You couldn’t remember anything, it seemed like your mind went blank every time the man fixed his dark irises on you, and the fact that he was doing it right now wasn’t helping matters.

“Don’t tell me you’re here to arrest me…” Your blood suddenly ran cold. Your mind began to spin in search of a sensible answer. Your neurons were so busy thinking meticulously about the words you were going to say that you forgot how ridiculous and desperate you’d look in the process.

“No! Not at all… Nonono,” You let out the longest existing “ehhh” in the middle of your explanation. “My goal with you tonight is different and… personal.”

“Mhm... personal,” The word slid off his tongue dangerously. “Well, I’m dying to know what you’re planning on doing with me tonight.” A curved smile decorated his lips, weakening your legs.

You urgently wanted to change the direction of the conversation, and as if you had manifested it, the food arrived at your table. The waiter placed two plates of medium-rare steak in front of you as an appetizer and a bottle of champagne that he masterfully opened. The clear liquid from the bottle slid smoothly down your glass, bubbles adorning the top of it.

Food flooded your table as you kept a conversation with Seonghwa. It was strange but intriguing. Neither of you gave more information than necessary, both always staying on the edge. You didn’t know when, why, or how but you were both laughing. When you stopped, the gangster let out a sigh and then spoke to you.

“You’re very beautiful. Y’know?” Your cheeks turned a tender pink as you felt them burn. However, you decided to test him, looking at him lustfully, clearly with other intentions. Unfortunately, Seonghwa read you like an open book and rapidly recognized the game you were playing.

“Thanks, handsome. You’re very good-looking as we-”

“Too bad you’re an agent.”

What?

How was it possible? You didn’t give too much information, and you were cautious when speaking. So how the hell does he know you’re an agent? You stayed still in your seat, unable to formulate any excuses.

“Oh, darling. I’m the heir of the greatest mafia in Asia. Didn’t that tell you and your pretty little head something?”

Words simply chose not to slip out of your mouth. So you remained silent, looking down as if you were a just scolded six-year-old girl.

At that point, you didn’t know if you were scared or what, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye. It was as if a deafening voice was ringing inside your head repeating ‘don’t. you. dare.’

“I’d love to have you around, I really mean it. You’re lovely. Maybe your head hanging on my coat rack can keep me company.” Seonghwa got up from his seat, going around the table to be face-to-face with you.

“Please, let’s talk rationally.” You naively tried to keep your voice from shaking, but it was impossible. You were terrified of what this man could do to you.

“Follow me, y/n.”

Fuck.

Now there was no way to deny the undeniable. He knew your name, probably your last name, your address, your blood type, and the name of your dog, why not?

Now you were really against a rock and a hard place.

He took your hand carelessly and practically dragged you to one of the countless hotel rooms, away from the crowd. He closed the door behind him and threw you on the bed brusquely.

“W-what are you gonna do to me?”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not gonna kill you, I’m not as ruthless as my father.” You let out a sigh when you heard his words.

“But I am gon’ make you regret trying to arrest me, darling,” He walked towards you and leaned down so he could be face-to-face with you. His lips brushing dangerously against yours. You could see how a flame decorated his dark irises, “So much that you’re gonna wish you never had met me.”

| masterlist

#park seonghwa #park seonghwa ateez #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa drabble #seonghwa imagines #ateez #ateez x reader #seonghwa scenarios #mob boss seonghwa #ateez x female reader #seonghwa x female reader

[avecra]

Her

summary: When Bucky's anger gets the best of him during a debriefing meeting, your touch is the one thing that can ground him.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: injury, lil angst, hurt/comfort, angry!bucky is just protective!bucky

Bucky Barnes was seething.

Anger coursed through his body, streaming through nerves and coming off him in waves. The tension in the debriefing room was thick as he sat with his arms crossed over his chest, his posture rigid as stone. Grey eyes bored into the two agents that sat across from him.

“Buck, could you please explain what went wrong during the infiltration. Calmly.” Steve asked and took a seat next to you. Bucky’s eyes flickered over to you for a moment, the blues of his irises pushed through the grey, for a moment, until they glanced down at the sling that held your casted wrist.

A humorless laugh escaped through his lips and he rolled his eyes before leaning his forearms against the glass table, staring at the agent who wore a smug smirk on his face.

“Well, I was guarding the corridor so that Y/n could safely retrieve the file from the office. Once she obtained the file, we began to make our way out, but Agents Miller and Cruz decided it would be best to track our positions and call it through the radio, not the comms which led to them giving away our position to enemy dealers and laughing about it,” Bucky gritted out. “They should have called out through the communications link.”

Miller scoffed and Cruz leaned further back into his chair, shifting uneasy under Bucky’s stare. Steve shifted through his notes and glanced over to you for confirmation. You nodded.

“What happened after you were made?” Steve continued on.

“After our position was revealed, we made our way to the nearest stairwell, but once inside a rogue dealer got the drop on me and shoved Y/n down the stairs, which she came out with a fractured wrist. I managed to knock him out before he could turn around and we made it to the jet safely where I triaged her until we got back.”

Steve flipped through the pages of the mission report, scribbling his signature before he looked over at you, softly whispering your name. “Y/n?”

You turned your head and nodded. Then, he spoke again. “Agent Miller, Agent Cruz, is this true?”

The agents scoffed and Miller rolled his eyes, he began to fidget under Steve’s firm stare until he let out a grunt. “Yes, Captain. But I can assure you-”

“Are you aware of the protocols during field missions?” Bucky cut him off sharply, anger laced through his voice. He slammed his fists on the glass and pushed up from his chair. “For being such highly skilled agents, you clearly don’t have a lot of common sense. If I hadn’t reacted when I did, Y/n or myself could have gotten gravely injured or worse.”

“Buck,” Steve’s voice did not touch Bucky’s ears in the slightest.

Instead, Bucky pushed further. “You would have the deaths of two Avengers on your hands. All for what? So you two idiotic assholes would think it’s funny to do a prank during the middle of a mission with dangerous hostiles?”

“Bucky.” Steve’s voice was firmer, but Bucky did not relent. Not when you sat with your arm in a cast, with scratches littered over the soft skin of your cheeks and forehead. Over the perfect curve of your nose. Over the perfect plump of your lips.

“You probably thought it would be a funny to pull a trick on the big, bad Winter Soldier, to catch SHIELD’s biggest traitor off guard and make him look stupid,” Your hand gripped Steve’s forearm and sent him a worried glance. “You could have gotten Y/n killed, and I can promise you, nothing would have stopped me from tearing the both of you apart.”

“Bucky, enough!” Steve yelled, and only then did Bucky shoot up from the table and angrily stepped away so that his back was pressed against the glass, placing his hands upon his head, his fingers dug into the short brown wisps of hair.

You tried to catch his gaze, but he refused to look at you. In the years that you had been with Bucky, you had never once seen him lose his anger like he had a couple moments ago. He always kept himself composed and calm, especially in front of you.

Red flared over his face, angry grey eyes boring into the two agents, his vibranium fist clenched so hard, it would probably snap if not for the indestructible material.

“Agents Miller and Cruz will face three weeks suspension, once said suspension is up they will be required to redo their training on field missions, until Agent Romanoff has given the all clear. These terms are non negotiable.” Steve said as he closed the file and slid it across the table.

Three week suspension. Three weeks for slipping up that could have cost my girl her life.

Anger boiled in Bucky and a humorless laugh escaped his lips. He roughly hit his head back against the wall so hard that it shook the glass. Bucky knew it wasn’t directly Steve who came to the decision, but it still infuriated him.

Because at the end of the day, if he ever made the littlest mistake, a small slip-up while in the field, his suspension would be longer, by a couple of months.

But two agents who consciously exposed the exact location in front of the enemy deserved just three weeks.

Bucky watched your shoulders sag in defeat, you reached out and adjusted your casted arm and winced lightly. You caught his eye and sent him a gentle smile, through the scratches and cuts.

He pushed himself off the wall and made his way to the door. “If I ever get the displeasure of seeing you two assholes in the field again, maybe I’ll partake in one of your childish pranks. Then we can see how funny it is.”

With that, he slammed the door and retreated down the hall. His footsteps echoed so loudly that you and Steve could both still hear them. The captain cleared his throat and looked at the two agents.

“Desk duty begins immediately. Tomorrow, eight sharp. Dismissed.”

You watched as the two men sent an annoyed glare your way, but you ignored it. Instead, you waited until they vacated the room before you turned to Steve.

“Only three weeks?” you asked for confirmation, unsure if you wished they had been given a more lengthy punishment. “My arm will take almost seven weeks to heal.”

Steve sighed and nodded. “It’s above me, Y/n. I wish it was longer, but this is what has been decided. Best we can do is just make sure to never pair the four of you up again.” he said, gathering up the files. “Why don’t you go check on him and get some rest. I’d imagine you’re tired.”

You nodded and hugged Steve’s arm before you followed the steps to Bucky’s bedroom, where you knew he’d be.

Sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, Bucky sat hunched over, his shoulders rose and fell with every harsh breath. As gently as you could, you closed the door softly and made your way over to him.

The brush of your nails against his scalp made him look up at you. You were expecting dark eyes filled with annoyance, but instead you found soft blue ones filled with remorse. They flickered to the sling that held your arm and he sighed defeatedly.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to lose my anger in front of you,” Bucky said, his voice softer now.

You stood in front of him, your free hand carded through the short locks of hair and Bucky rested his head on your chest, his arms wrapped around your waist. He fisted the fabric of your sweater in his hands.

“It’s okay, honey,” you whispered against his forehead.

But Bucky shook his head and held you tighter. “I should have acted quicker. I-I should have checked the stairwell before pushing you ahead. I should have been more alert, but instead I let that prick shove you and I did nothing.”

Flashes of the enemy dealer that roughly grabbed you by the back of your shirt engulfed your mind, the sudden pain of the stone steps pushed into every muscle of your body and it wasn’t long before you felt a grinding sensation in your wrist followed by pain.

Grunts and whimpers passed through your lips and you curled your arm towards your body, moving to sit against the stone wall. You could faintly see Bucky hold the dealer by the neck before slamming him into the wall.

You held him tighter and wrapped your arm around his neck and pulled him to your chest, pressing delicate kisses to the crown of his head.

“You and I both know that’s not true,” you whispered against his skin. You pulled back from him and traced your fingertips down the side of his cheek, across his tear rimmed eyes, over the bridge of his nose. “You got me out of there didn’t you? You got me safely to the jet and bandaged me until we got back home. That’s not nothing, honey.”

You remembered his gentle hands as he leaned you against him, arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you from the stairwell and to the jet, how he gently created a makeshift sling for your arm.

Bucky looked up at you and a tear slipped down his cheek, but you quickly wiped it away. “You always have my back, and I appreciate you so much for that. There is nobody I feel safer than with you, love.”

Blue eyes gazed into yours and Bucky leaned up and pressed a kiss to your lips, a quick, chaste but still left you with butterflies in your stomach.

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss against your collarbone and held you tighter.

Your free hand found itself stroking the back of Bucky’s neck and you leaned your forehead against his, lowering yourself gently onto his lap. His hold tightened on your waist.

“I love you, too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble

[miela]

Shattered Memories

Prologue

Pairing: Peter Parker x Silk!Avenger!Stark!Reader Length: Series (Longish, maybe a little over 10 chapters) Series Genre(s): Romance with Dramatic and Comedic undertones (if you squint) Series Theme(s): Fluff, Angst, Smut Series Summary: After Peter sacrificed his identity for the sake of the world, five years go by before he finds you back in his life again. Series Warnings: Mentions of substance abuse, alcoholism, s*icidal thoughts, and possible abusive relationship (not Peter x Y/N) in later chapters. warnings subject to change. Please proceed with caution. Extra Content: One of my OCs are in here! Let me know if you want me to make a character list to reference.

Masterlist

➼ divider by cafekitsune

In the sky there is a crackling sound as a jagged purple band of fluorescent and electric strips open in the air like someone took a knife and cut open the blue of the sky. Peter swung over by your friends, while you swung around the premise of the Statue of Liberty to make sure that no one was left behind from needing to go back to their proper universe. It was a crazy few days. It was a crazy week really. First, going to Italy on the school trip just for it to be interrupted demands from Fury to Mysterio making out Peter to be public enemy number one to this, fighting people from different dimensions just to fix everything.

Just as you thought things couldn’t get any worse, you weren’t prepared for what was next.

“You’re okay!” Michelle Jones-Watson, aka MJ, exclaimed once Peter swung by them. 

They all joined in on a group hug before Peter pulled back from them and studied them worriedly. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, we’re okay.” MJ said with a sigh of relief. 

At that moment you swung down as well as you took off your spider mask while catching your breath. “Well, that was another successful adventure for the Iron Spider Gang!” 

MJ and Ned let out exhausted chuckles with you as Celina smiles big. Everyone looked exhausted and honestly you were exhausted. Your shoulders dropped in relief before Peter grabbed your face gently with his gloved hands, noticing the gash on the temple of your forehead above you eye. His touch took you by surprise as you looked up at him wondrously.

“Oh my god,” He exclaimed as he scanned your face for other injuries. “You’re bleeding…!” 

You had gotten the cut during the battle and you had gotten worse injuries before, and each and every time, Peter got so concerned…even if he was in worse condition.

“Oh this? ‘Tis nothing but a scratch, Parker.” You smiled softly. “I’m sure it’s already halfway healed.”

He looked into your eyes filled with worry and a hint of skepticism. “Are you sure?” He rubs his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks gently and lovingly.

“I’m fine,” You smile reassuringly. “I’m okay, I promise.”

His shoulders dropped in relief. “Okay….okay….good.” He then turned to look at yours and his friends, Ned, MJ and Celina, to make sure they were okay. They all gave him tight and thin lipped reassuring smiles and nods in response.

“Um…We should go then, right?” MJ asked after a moment. 

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I can summon the Quinjet and we can be home in no time.”

For a moment, Peter struggles to find the words to tell you guys the truth of how this mission will end. Thunder echoed in the sky as you all looked up to see the purple rips that dance across the sky. Doctor Stephen Strange, a sorcerer, was levitating in the sky casting a spell that is meant to solve the merging of the multiverse issue. 

Peter let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes and pursed his lips together for a moment before speaking those dreaded words that you never thought you would ever hear in your life. 

 “You’re gonna forget who I am.”

All four of you look at him confused. 

“What?” Ned asked, voicing what all of you were thinking. 

“Forget who you are…? What are you talking about?” MJ added.

Celina cocked her head to the side in confusion.

You, who has been through the craziest of situations and knew that anything and everything was possible due to your thankless job as an avenger, caught on to what he was meaning very quickly. You looked up at the purple rips, to Strange and then to the spell before looking at Peter horrified for an elaboration in hopes that he didn’t mean what you thought he meant. 

Peter noticed your expression and continued. “It’s okay. I’m gonna come and find you, and I’ll explain everything.” 

All your faces fall as you realize that he definitely meant what you were afraid of him meaning. 

“No…”  was all that you could manage coming out of your mouth. It sounded almost pleading. 

Peter cradled your face again and looked into your eyes with determination. “I’ll make you remember me, and it will be like none of this ever happened. Okay?”

MJ, in a slightly panicked state, replied. “Okay, but what if that doesn’t work?”

“Yeah!” you agreed, tearing up. “What if…What if that doesn’t work? What if we can’t remember you? I don’t want to do that. I don’t…I don’t wanna do that, Peter. I don’t want to do that…” You shook your head rapidly.

 “I know, (Y/N),” He cradled your face again and looked into your eyes sadly. “I know.”

“But…Is there not something we can do? We can come up with a plan or something! There’s always something we can do…We always find a way. Always. It's literally our job…!” You began thinking of other ways immediately. “What about…what about…” You were at a loss for words as you tried to scramble up an idea from your scattered brain.

Peter shook his head. “There’s nothing we can do.” He brushed his thumbs over your cheek and wiped away your tears before adding reassuringly. “But it’ll be okay.”

“No,” you say again, shaking your head rapidly again as your vision becomes blurred because of your tears. “No, no, no, no….no, Peter, please there must be another way.” you hold on to his arms with an iron grip as you start shaking in fear. “There’s always another way…!”

How could anyone think that you could accept this? You and Peter always had each other’s backs, especially in battle and on missions. You two were a perfect pair, a match made in heaven. How could you let yourself forget him? 

You wouldn’t let yourself forget him. 

You wanted to graduate with him. You wanted to enjoy the summer before college with him. You wanted to go school supply shopping with him and help him pick out stuff for his dorm room. You wanted to help him move in and set up his room and then spend the rest of the night watching your favorite movies together. You wanted to go to a halloween party with him as you wear matching costumes and be cute together as he introduces you to all of his new friends. You had a plan to make a friendsgiving and you wanted him to be there. You wanted to spend Christmas together and go ice skating and snowboarding. You wanted to move in together and spend the rest of your lives together.

But you couldn’t do all of that if you couldn’t remember who he was now could you? 

“We will find another way.” 

“(Y/N)...” 

“No! Peter, I-I can’t accept this. What if it doesn't work?” You sniffled out as you let your mind race with the possibilities of what could go wrong with this horrendous plan. “You’ll be all alone…”

MJ tried to catch her breath, as Ned’s eyes brimmed with tears. Celina was silently crying. The air was thick but at the same time, it was way, way, way too thin. You felt both hot and cold at the same time and you could’ve sworn your body was going into shock over this.

“Hey, hey…” Peter cradled your face again. “Look at me.”

You looked up at him with sad eyes and a quivering lip. 

 “What’s your name?” He asked.

“(Y/N) S-stark.” You sniffled out.

“That’s right,” He smiled softly. “And what are you?”

“An Avenger.” 

“And what do Avengers do?”

“Save the world,” You replied again, you swallowed hard as you tried to not to scream and sob. “W-we save the world.”

“And how do we plan to do that?” he asked, referring to the two of you.

You recalled the day you both became the dynamic duo of the Avengers. You both had promised that you would always stick together no matter what. You both were two halves of one emotionally and biologically, since you both were bitten by the same spider. 

“Together,” You gave him a small smile remembering the first time you guys made that oath. “Until the bitter end. Like we promised.”

“And I keep my promises, yeah?” He smiled sweetly. “This isn’t the bitter end. Not yet. I will come and find you.” He glanced up at the others. “All of you.”

Ned looked down for a moment before speaking. “You promise?”

 Peter turned to Ned and looked at him with a reassuring smile. “Yeah,” He let go of your face and walked over to his best friend. “I promise.”

Peter and Ned did a bittersweet version of their special handshake. It was almost heartbreaking to see due to how…final it felt. Then Peter pulled Ned into a hug. 

“I’ll come find you, okay?”

“I know you will,” Ned smiled sadly. 

When they pulled back from the hug, Peter turns to MJ and Celina. He goes over by Celina first.

Celina’s shoulder shook as she hiccuped from crying. Peter worried for her since they’ve been attached at the hip since they were little. They were practically siblings and she would be losing the last of her family…and he would be losing the last of his. But he knew she would be in good hands with how strong the bond of your friends group was.

“Hey,” he started. “I know you’ve been thinking about training with Strange. I think you should do it, Who knows you might need to use a spell one day.” He smiled at her and petted her head endearingly. “You’ll do great out there. I'll always be your big bro, Celi.”

Her lip quivered as she nodded and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back and kissed her head. She’s always been like a little sister to him, despite them being the same age. Once she pulled back from the hug she went over to Ned and hugged him as she cried into his shoulder. Peter then turned to MJ. 

“You better come find us.” She sniffled. “If you don’t, I’m just gonna figure it out. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.” She let out a barely-there soft chuckle. “And I will do it again.”

He hugged her for a moment before saying. “I promise I’ll fix this mess.”

He turns back to you again as you look at him and nod knowingly. There was nothing you could do and you knew that this was for the greater good…even if you hated the hell out of the idea of it. 

“You better come find us, Parker. Do you hear me?” You said sternly as you poked his chest. “You better come find me. If you won’t then I’ll come find you myself. And If I have to come find you…I swear to the fucking heavens and Asgard, If I have to come find you…I’ll kick your ass into another dimens-” 

His lips were on yours in a deep, passionate and desperate kiss, and you returned the kiss back while wrapping your arms around his neck. He kissed you like it was the last time you guys would ever kiss and you returned the energy of the exchange. After a moment he reluctantly pulled back slowly and leaned his forehead on yours softly. 

“I really fucking hate magic,” You stated.

Peter laughed softly with a knowing grin. “Yeah,” He replied. “Me too.”

You guys stood there for a moment in each other’s arms in a moment of silence before you spoke up.

“I love you, Peter.” you said to him as you cradled his face as you looked into his eyes.

He looked back into your eyes sadly and endearingly. “I-I lov-”

“Just wait,” You interjected. “Hold on to it and tell me when you see me again.”

“Sure,” Peter responded. “As long as you promise that you won't think I’m some creep and kick my ass.”

You let out a laugh and looked down at your chest for a moment before you pulled at the chain that was under your suit revealing your necklace. You hold it in your hands in a fist for comfort as you close your eyes and sighed deeply with determination. It’s the necklace Peter gave you when you first told you that he loved you. It was a silver spider necklace with two red rubies on it. You thought it was both sweet as heck and corny as hell, but that’s what you loved about it and that’s what you loved about Peter. You unclasped the necklace and looked at it for a moment before putting it in his hand and pushing his fingers down to his palm gently so he could hold it. He looked at you wondrously in response. 

“Give this back to me once you find me.” You smiled softly. “I promise I'll remember you.”

The sky around you all began rumbling even more as the sorcerer did his work. The new spell was taking effect and you wish you could freeze time, just so you could memorize Peter’s face a little longer. Hold his hand a little longer. Kiss his lips a little longer. Although you never took for granted the time you both spent together, it still felt like there wasn’t enough time spent together.

Crazy how things can change in a blink of an eye.

You all looked at the sky for a moment before looking back to each other sadly and eyes full of hope that this was just some horrible, messed up nightmare. Peter and you met eyes and he pulled you into another passionate kiss and you returned the kiss back. After a moment he pulled back again, hating the idea of having to do it.

“I promise, I’ll give this back to you.” He whispered, trying not to cry. 

“I know you will,” You smiled sadly. “Or else I’ll take it back from you instead.”

He let out a choked laugh. 

“This isn’t goodbye,” He added. “Just a see you later.”

“I’ll see you later,” You choked out. “Call me around seven? The usual time?”

He chuckled. “Yeah,” he nodded. “I’ll explain everything then.” 

He planted a long soft kiss on your forehead before he pulled away and stepped back reluctantly. You let your fingers glide along his shoulders and arms and hands as he moved. You both hesitated for a moment before you held each other's hands for a long moment before letting go. The feeling was heartbreaking, agonizing and agoraphobic. You wanted nothing more than to latch yourself on to him and never let go as if that would force you to never forget him. 

You guys never broke eye contact for that entire moment as if you were trying to find a way to keep the connection between you two alive for as long as possible.

He sighed one last time and jumped onto the ledge you all were standing in behind and looked up at Strange, who nodded at him as a last goodbye. Peter had a knowing look on his face….a look of ultimate defeat and the acceptance of it. He looked back at you one last time, taking in your form like a photograph in his mind. 

Although you would forget him, he would never forget you.

You mouthed “I love you, Peter Parker.” With a reassuring smile.

He gave you a sad smile before swinging off the edge. It all hit you right then and there and you let out a choked sob as you collapsed onto the ground and cried so hard you thought your body was going to explode. You had lost so much…so, so much and now you had to lose something else…someone else.

You don’t remember your friends trying to catch you when your legs gave out on you, you don’t remember the spell passing through you, and it only took a moment before you didn’t remember why you were crying. 

~

#peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x stark!reader #spiderman #peter parker #tom holland #marvel #mcu #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x you #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman no way home #peter parker x silk!reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker fanfiction #mcu peter parker #mcu peter x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfiction #spiderman homecoming #spiderman far from home

[undertheorangetree]

The Last of the Dragons

Chapter Four- Cooperation

Summary- Cregan Stark has a proposition and Aemond struggles with the lord’s arrival.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Incest. Grief. Talks of treason. Angst cuz I literally can’t stop. Semi public sex. Also private sex. There's a lot of sex. Mild breeding kink. Praise kink. Jizz?? Dry humping. Discussion of dead babies and children. And Alys cuz apparently she needs her own warning now. Cockwarming.

Author’s Note- sorry this took longer than usual it’s end of semester and I am a shell of my former self lmao. Anyway this is once again debatably too long (10.2k) and the full chapter is linked below as usual :)

series masterlist

It takes a few more days than she had hoped before she is able to speak with Cregan Stark. It seems as though the council had been saving the true work for after the coronation and now they refuse to allow a day to pass without attempting to fix one issue or another. She learns very quickly that even with a council to do the heavy lifting, Aegon had done next to nothing in his six months on the throne, the realm still in shambles from the civil war that has destroyed it.

The Riverlands burnt and all but decimated due to Aemond and Vhagar. The Ironborn raiding every village, port, and town they can reach despite more than one letter arriving in Pyke demanding an end to it. All the great houses still at odds over their differing allegiances. Cregan Stark still thirsty for blood in order to avenge her mother and fulfill his promise to his men. King’s Landing only repaired with half measures after the revolt in the city and less than a quarter of the repairs underway. The list seemed never ending and by the end of each day, she finds a headache sitting heavy behind her eyes, so deep she can’t even attempt to massage the pain away.

To his credit, Aemond takes it upon himself to begin rebuilding the Riverlands himself, taking the initiative to lead the restoration. She has Corlys send word to Alyn Velaryon and command him to sail to Pyke with some of Velaryon fleet with the hopes that conversation and some bribing will be enough to stop Dalton Greyjoy from his raids. Lord Tyland informs them of just how much of the crown’s coffers he had spirited away and begins rationing what can be spared to begin repairing the city. Lord Larys assures them that the hunt for Aegon’s murderer is still well underway, though he has little to show for it.

It is Cregan Stark that is left to her. Handsome, bloodthirsty Cregan Stark. Where he had cast a glare upon almost everyone when he had arrived for the coronation, he had smiled at her, had been friendly and chivalrous. Though Aemond had vehemently disagreed, the council had all but unanimously decided that she was to charm him and turn him toward peace or, barring that, some acceptance of who was now ruling. She does not mind the task, already having planned to speak to the man and not prepared to be usurped less than sennight on the throne, so she agrees and leaves the council chamber with Aemond staring daggers into her back.

She is even more glad for the task as she sits on a bench in the gardens, eyes closed and face tilted up toward the sun as she waits for Lord Stark’s arrival. It feels as though it has been an age since she had the chance to simply be and in this moment, the sun warm and the air sweet with the smell of flowers, she feels completely and totally at peace. It is a strange feeling to have when worry and panic have been all she seemed capable of feeling as of late, but she will take it as it comes. She would rather feel this than the latter and she plans to enjoy it for as long as she is able.

A throat clears and she opens her eyes to see Cregan Stark standing before her, a servant at his side. The girl bows her head to them both before scurrying off as quick as she came and she stands from the bench with a smile.

“Lord Stark. I apologize for the delay in finally being able to speak to one another. My council seems content to work me like an ox now that everything has become more official but I insisted they release me so that I may fulfill my promise to you.”

He smiles as he offers her his arm. “I am honoured you were able to find the time at all, your grace. I know the early days in a new role can be exhausting.”

She mimics his smile gratefully as she takes his arm, allowing him to begin leading her through the gardens. They have not received the attention they deserved as of late- the shrubbery and bushes beginning to grow a bit wild, the flowers untrimmed- but she finds she likes it this way. Being so far into spring, everything is in bloom and beautiful even if they have not been well tended to, the green brilliant and dotted with red, yellow, purple, and white. She allows the silence to fall between them for a moment as she admires it all, feeling as though it has been too long since she has been allowed to enjoy something so simplistically pretty. Whenever she is given a gown or a piece of jewelry, she cannot help but feel as though it is a piece in this great game she never asked to play. The flowers, though, nature, they do not suffer the same fate.

Eventually, she knows she cannot allow for the silence to reign much longer and turns her head to look at the young lord. “My brother told me much about you in his letters. I feel as though you and I are already acquainted.”

Read the rest here :)

Taglist- @ammo23 @bellstwd @kckt88 @aemondsbabygirl @shygardengalaxy @duds31 @at-a-rax-ia @ladymarg0t @queenofshinigamis @drakar-i @cl-0-vr @castellomargot @moonlightfoxx @ladybug0095 @marihoneywk @the-common-cowgirl @darylandbethfanforever9 @bunny24sstuff @helaenaluvr @toodlesxcuddles @eternally-passionate @herfantasyworldd @ashovertheriver @hypocritic-trash-baby @heavenly1927 @bunbunbl0gs @divxnee @seabasscevans

#Aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond x reader #Aemond targaryen x you #Aemond x you #Aemond targaryen x fem!reader #Aemond x fem!reader #Aemond targaryen x niece!reader #aemond x niece!reader #Aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond fanfiction #Aemond targaryen fanfiction #Aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon fanfiction

[thatonebrazilian]

Tolerate it

Summary: Everyone assumed you were fine, but what would they do if you just... broke free?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader; undertones of Carol Danvers x Reader; Platonic Clint Barton x Reader; mentions of platonic Wanda Maximoff x Reader.

Word count: Around 6K

TW: Deep angst, assassination attempt, betrayal of trust, suicidal thoughts, dealing with grief, self sacrifices.

A/N: I've been in the mood for angst, apparently. And I actually wasn't planning on writing anything (I shouldn't have, I was short for time as it was), but I was listening to Taytay and the fic just came to me. This will probably hurt a lot. Just hurt, not much comfort. Let there be pain.

You didn't know what you did wrong. You didn't know how you could fix this. You didn't know if it even could be fixed.

All you did, all you could do, was just sit there and watch her. She was reading, her head low, almost as if she was trying to keep a barrier between you two.

You sat in the corner of the room, watching her as she immersed herself in reports. The soft glow of the lamp cast a delicate halo around her, illuminating her beautiful, beautiful features. And yet, on that night, as on many before, the light seemed unable to reach her eyes. 

You knew she was struggling, you were too. Everyone was. The Blip had taken many from their families, and the toll it took on those who stayed made many more lose their loved ones. The remaining Avengers lost Clint to his own darkness, and you lost the love of your life to what you could only describe as self-isolation.

Natasha had always had an unhealthy work-life balance, yet you always managed to counter that… But not anymore.

You had been together for what felt like an eternity, intertwined in a love that once knew no bounds. Now, though, there was a growing chasm separating the two of you. Natasha would only engage in conversations that revolved around missions and saving the world, and none of those came from you.

You used to be an Avenger too, with powers so astronomical that you never learned to control them. Bruce and Tony had to create some sort of inhibitor for you, lest you destroy the world by mistake.

You were probably one of the most powerful beings out there, but having no control whatsoever of your powers would only bring destruction, so you learned to live without them, the bracelet Tony made never leaving your wrist.

Being a somewhat powerless avenger was hard, but it was worth it. You saved people, you helped your friends.

But since the Blip things have changed. 

After watching Wanda, one of your best friends, disappear right in front of your eyes; after seeing Clint's descent into darkness, you didn't feel like fighting anymore. So you decided to stop, you stopped so you could take care of yourself, take care of Natasha.

They were small, the things you did for her, but meaningful nonetheless. You'd wait by the door every day to greet her like a god-damned war hero, to show her some love and comfort after a hard day at work; you'd make her favorite dishes, lay the table with your best cutlery; you even took upon painting as it seemed to ease your mind, and you'd use your best colors for her portraits (and there were many)... And yet, all Natasha gave back were lukewarm smiles; hums, and nods in acknowledgment of your attempts at conversation, and a lackluster "thanks". 

She seemed to simply… Tolerate it.

~

You woke up in the wee hours of the morning, the sun hadn't risen yet, and the moonlight shone through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. Your gaze fell upon Natasha, who lay beside you sleeping lightly. The rise and fall of her chest matched the rhythm of her breathing, a calming sight that used to bring you comfort.

But then, as you watched her, you noticed a subtle alteration in her breathing patterns, something that would go unnoticed by anyone else. The steady rhythm became irregular, interrupted by moments of slightly shallower breaths and the briefest of pauses. There was a tension in her muscles that hadn't been there a second ago, almost as if a silent battle was being waged beneath her immaculate skin.

Natasha's eyes remained closed, her face serene as if she was lost in the most peaceful of dreams. But you knew the truth. She was pretending to be asleep. It felt like she didn't want to wake up beside you, like she simply tolerated your presence, but now even that tolerance seemed to be waning.

You wanted to reach out, to offer her solace, to take all the pain away, but the invisible barrier between you seemed impossible to break through. The distance that had grown between you now felt like a vast expanse, impossible to bridge. Her closed eyes spoke volumes, a silent plea for space, for time, for avoidance.

Your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words, your eyes burned with the sting of unshed tears. You missed Clint, he'd know how to deal with this, he'd help her, but he'd help you, too. He'd hug you and tell you that everything was gonna be ok, he'd make sure it'd turn out that way. You missed Wanda, she'd take you out to eat ice cream, watch silly sitcoms with you, tell you the stupidest jokes just to see you crack a smile, she'd even threaten Natasha if she imagined the other redhead was hurting you in any way, shape or form.

You missed your life, your old life, before the Blip.

You turned away from her, not wanting her to see the tears in your eyes in case she opened hers.

~

As it turns out, the first time Natasha had a semblance of a real conversation with you in… You don't even know how many weeks… Was to ask you to join a team to take down whatever new evil had shown up.

You didn't even think twice about it, you took the job, you'd do anything to get closer to her again.

The team consisted of you, Steve, and Carol, who was visiting Earth. You didn't even know where you were headed or who you were facing, you just wanted to come back with an excuse to actually talk to your fianceé. 

As you prepared to get into the jet, you saw her there, giving off directions before everyone boarded. You wrestled with conflicting emotions, torn between respecting Natasha's need for distance and the overwhelming desire to break through the walls she had erected. 

You felt a hand on your shoulder then, too warm to be Nat's, and you immediately felt the comfort she radiated.

Carol wasn't the most sentimental person, she wouldn't tell you that everything would be fine, she wouldn't offer comforting words, but she'd be there, a warm unwavering presence amidst the chaos (even if you rarely saw each other in person). She was the one good thing that the Blip brought you.

"Don't think too much about it," the blonde said, already knowing what was on your mind. "Keep your head in the game, I don't want you getting hurt out there, ok?"

You nodded while managing to keep to yourself the strong urge to hug her, to seek comfort in that friendly and familiar warmth of hers.

She nodded back, turned and boarded the jet, having already reviewed with Natasha her role in the mission.

You looked at your fianceé only to find her eyes already on you. You didn't think too much into it, though, she was probably just reviewing in her head the role you'd have for this mission.

Once again you found yourself wanting to go to her, but the fear of rejection loomed over you, a haunting presence that whispered of the potential pain that awaited if you ventured too close.

You turned away and stepped in the jet.

~

You stumbled into the Avengers' compound, a dull ache radiating from your wounded shoulder, the bloodstained clothes doing nothing to give you comfort.

The mission had taken an unexpected turn, and both you and Steve got shot. Multiple times.

As soon as you stepped through the quinjet's door Natasha was there, the worry in her eyes making you question if you were hallucinating. She walked to you, her eyes never leaving yours, it was almost as if you could feel her again, the old Natasha, your Natasha.

"What the fuck happened? You weren't supposed to get hurt!" she exclaimed in a mix of anger, desperation and concern. She ran her hands through her unkempt hair. It was an uncommon sight, indeed, to see her so disheveled.

You knew she had been worried, the moment Steve reported back you could hear her pacing back and forth through the comms, you just didn't know it would affect her this much. You didn't think she cared anymore.

Almost as if sensing your thoughts, Natasha took a hesitant step closer and reached for your hands. "You got me really worried." She said, her eyes looking deep into yours, her hands soothingly cold to the touch. 

You could see she wanted to say something else, but almost as if she was waging a silent war against herself, she shook her head, released your hands and sighed. "Go to the med bay. I'll meet you there."

You nodded weakly, too tired from blood loss to argue. Too tired in general.

As you made your way to the medical facilities, the pain in your shoulder intensifying with each step, you couldn't help but think of all the times Clint saved your ass from stupid bullet wounds like these, or how Wanda would literally create a shield around you whenever you faced danger.

You missed them, you missed Wanda so much, and you couldn't help but wish it was you and not her. And Clint, god, you hated what he became, you hated the Ronin, you hated that he wasn't there to heal by your side, to heal with Natasha, but you still missed him so much.

As you entered the med bay, you were greeted by a warmth that made you question how she could have gotten there first.

"Bold move, jumping in front of a sea of bullets like that" Carol said, there was no warmth in her voice though. You closed your eyes.

"I couldn't let them shoot that child," you said, sitting on a cot and looking apologetically at her.

Carol gritted her teeth, her eyes scanning your wounded shoulder, the part of you that got the most hits, with a mix of worry and anger written across her face.

"So you just deemed your life less valuable than hers and decided to throw it away?" She clenched her fists.

"That's not it and you know it," you said in a small voice. It was worse, but no, she didn't know it. She didn't need to. You didn't want to burden her too.

Carol's eyes softened, she took a couple steps towards you and touched your uninjured shoulder. "I just worry about you, sweet girl." She said and sighed, "Look, I know you don't have much to live for right now, but you're one of my best friends, I wouldn't be able to deal with it if something ever happened to you. And by the looks of it neither would Natasha, despite all the shit she's been pulling."

It was amazing how Carol, just like Wanda before her, was able to fill you with lightness. With them, as well as with Clint, you felt cherished, cared for. You could never be more thankful for the blonde in front of you. Without Clint and Wanda here to support your near Natasha-less life, Carol was the one thing keeping you sane.

You just wished being sane was enough.

You managed a weak smile, though, and even if felt forced, it still seemed to have convinced Carol that you were ok. "I'll be fine, Carebear. Just a flesh wound. I know I haven't been in the field for a while, but it's nothing I can't handle."

Carol fought off a smirk. "Promise me you won't pull shit like that again, at least".

You saluted her, a mocking smile on your face, despite the ache you felt inside. "Aye, aye, Captain!"

She chuckled and shook her head, "You're the worst".

"But you love it!" Your answering smile was more genuine this time.

Her smile grew bigger, and you wished you could see it in person more often.

"I actually do." She said, shaking her head once more and turning away to leave the med bay.

It didn't take long for a nurse to come to tend to you. There were many bullet wounds around your body, although most were superficial. The worst was indeed your shoulder, having been hit four times.

You bitterly wondered how you could still be alive with all of these bullet holes around your body.

The minutes passed by, and yet there was no sign of Natasha, so after all your wounds have been treated and dressed you decided to go look for the redhead.

It was a bad idea. As you located her, your heart sank. There she was, tending to Steve's wounds, her focus solely on him. Even though there was nothing romantic about the situation, the sight of them together stirred a mix of emotions within you. Jealousy, longing, confusion. Betrayal. You wondered if there was something more between Natasha and Steve, a connection that surpassed friendship. You wondered why she would deem him deserving of having his wounds treated personally by her while you were sent to a nameless nurse.

Your mind raced, struggling with the whirlwind of emotions that engulfed you. Doubts crept in, and you questioned the very nature of your relationship with Natasha. Did she even love you still? Has she ever? Where was that woman who threw blankets over your barbed wire, leaving you just soft enough for all your other friends to approach? Why has she left you behind in her pursuit to build this new world instead of taking you along with her? The uncertainty gnawed at you, intensifying the ache in your shoulder. You made her your temple, your mural, your sky, but now you were left begging for footnotes in the story of her life.

As you stood there, watching her tend to his injuries, a deep sense of loneliness washed over you. The weight of the lack of acknowledgment you've been getting from her grew heavier, casting a shadow over the bond you once shared. The pain in your shoulder felt insignificant compared to the ache in your soul.

At that moment, you realized you couldn't take it anymore. You loved Natasha, you would probably love her till the end of your days, but you knew your love should be celebrated, and yet all she did was tolerate it.

~

You never thought about what she would do if you broke free, leaving the two of you in ruins. But that's what you did, you took the chains that bound you to Natasha and broke them.

You still longed for her, though, the neverending love you held for the woman felt like a dagger piercing your heart, a constant reminder of what you craved for, of what you once had. You wanted to remove it, to see it clatter to the ground as you bled out.

It was weird to gain the weight of her then lose it, but you needed to do it, you had to.

You were doing it for her as much as for yourself. Natasha had lost so, so much, but there was one person who could still come back, so you went to look for him, more in hopes of helping her than fulfilling your own desire of seeing him again.

Even if she didn't love you (which was the impression you got when you told her you'd be gone, looking for Clint, only to get a blank stare in response), you still loved her, you still wanted her to be as happy as she could, and you knew Clint was the person to make that happen, he was her best friend as much as he was yours.

You needed to help her heal somehow.

"She's been a mess since you left," Carol had said once during a video call, the vast expansion of the universe now looming right behind her, "don't ever tell her I said that, though." The grimace on her face told you she wasn't kidding.

"Steve's been trying to help more, even I am; I've been to earth since you left more times than I've been throughout my whole life. I'm afraid that if I stay gone too long, she won't be there when I come back… Since you left she barely takes care of herself. The place's a mess, she hasn't been eating much, and, again, don't ever tell her I said this, but I thought I'd never see her cry, and yet…"

You wondered if it had been all in your head, the way she seemed to avoid you, the way she seemed to take you for granted, the way she seemed to merely tolerate you.

In the midst of a turbulent storm of emotions, a newfound sense of urgency propelled your every step. You needed to find Clint, you needed to find him so you could go back to her, to see if she was really deteriorating that much, to ask her if it was all in your head, if you got it wrong somehow, if she actually loved you.

Time seemed to both crawl and fly, leaving you with moments of self-reflection in the solitude of your journey. Doubts and insecurities waged war within you, tearing at the fabric of your clarity. What if you discovered that Natasha's love had been genuine, but she had struggled to express it? What if she was simply too freshly traumatized to express it, and you had abandoned her at her worst moment?

You needed to go back to her, even if it was just to figure it out. But you wouldn't go back without Clint, you couldn't.

So you searched, and searched, and searched. And as you finally stood before Clint, his weathered face bearing the marks of his own battles, you found yourself engulfed in a deep ache. Two of the people you loved the most were immersed in pain, and you could do nothing to help.

"I can't believe you traveled so far, came all the way here for this," Clint spat, his voice filled with anger, his eyes filled with tears. "To ask me to come back so I can help her. Do you even worry about me? Did you ever stop to think that I lost my family? My wife's gone, Y/N! I lost my kids! Do you really think that I'm not dealing with my own shit right now?"

You shook your head, tears welled up in your eyes too, matching the anguish in your voice. "Fuck you, Clint! I'm not here just for her and you know that! You're my best friend, goddamnit, and you've been gone for years! I know you're hurting, but you gotta know that what you're doing is wrong, and it's not gonna bring Laura and the kids back." You shook your head, remembering the way the kids would all call you auntie Y/N/N. You sighed and shook your head in disappointment. "They would actually be ashamed of what you became."

You knew it was a low blow, but it was the truth, and he needed to hear it 

The moment he seemed to register those words, Clint's eyes became full of this sort of anger that you've never seen your friend display. But again, this wasn't Hawkeye, this was Ronin. 

Clint advanced upon you with rage in his eyes, his hand went to your throat, a dagger suddenly pressing against your ribs.

"Take that back." He said through gritted teeth, and you felt your eyes filling with tears once again.

Of course he wasn't above hurting you like this. He, too, didn't care about your own pain. 

You were tired, you were so fucking tired.

"Do it." You said, your voice devoid of emotions, the hollowness you now felt was all it conveyed. "It's not gonna make any difference if I'm gone, anyway."

You'd be just another death on his account, just a wisp of a memory in Natasha's mind.

Clint's brows furrowed, but his grip was unrelenting. You took your hands to his, the one holding the dagger, and pulled it up, so it wasn't resting above your ribs anymore, but right at your heart.

"Please," you said with a wavering voice, looking him deep in the eyes, trying to appeal no more to your friend, but to Ronin, "do it. Please."

The dagger clattered to the ground, Clint took a step away, looking at his hand as if it had personally offended him. He then looked at you, but you didn't meet his eyes, you were too absorbed looking at the dagger on the ground, feeling the brisk sense of freedom evading you as it finally stopped moving.

You then felt his arms around you, your head suddenly tucked into his neck.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice sounding desperate "I'm so sorry, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he kept repeating, and repeating, and repeating. 

You shook your head, your own desperation making you cling to him "Why didn't you do it? Why couldn't you just kill me?!"

His arms tightened around you as you both fell to your knees.

"I'm sorry," he just repeated, "I'm sorry I took this path, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry I wasn't a good friend."

You wished that he being sorry was enough.

~

When you came back, there was a talk about fucking time travel. The Ant-guy was back, and so was Tony, Thor, and even Bruce. Everything seemed to be falling into place, so why did you still feel so…. broken?

But, somehow, as you and Clint stepped foot inside the Avengers compound, the familiar surroundings embraced you like a long-lost home. The tension that has seemed to permeate your very bones during the journey began to ease, replaced by a cautious hope for what awaited you.

You knew things wouldn’t instantly fix themselves up; Natasha wouldn’t just come to you and apologize for all she’s done (no, that wasn’t like her at all); your heart wouldn’t suddenly be mended, even if she did; your mind wouldn't let you forget the pain, the deep ache the past five years inflicted upon you.

And yet, there was hope.

There was the possibility of bringing Wanda back, of having Carol around more often, of doing something good for humanity. Of making Natasha happy again.

The moment the doors opened you saw her. She was talking to the Ant-guy and to Bruce, her brows furrowed as she nodded along.

And then she turned her head and caught sight of you, and of who was by your side. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she saw Clint standing there, and a glimmer of something flickered within them, something akin to hope, but also akin to sorrow. Without a second thought, she started walking in your direction, coming faster and faster until she was running. 

When Natasha reached Clint, she threw her arms around him, pulling him into a long-awaited embrace. Tears pooled in her eyes, slowly streaming down her cheeks as she closed them. 

There was a little lightness in your heart as you saw them hug, some sort of knowing that she'd be ok even if you weren't around anymore. She wouldn't starve herself, she wouldn't push everyone away, she wouldn't shut down. She'd survive, and then she'd move on.

In that moment, as Natasha clung to Clint, her teary eyes slowly opened. There, through the blur of her emotions, she looked right at you. And the gratitude that radiated from her gaze was palpable, as if a thousand unspoken words were contained within that single look. 

Her hold on Clint loosened slightly as her eyes locked onto yours, lingering for a brief, intense moment. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time as the weight of her gaze met yours.  It felt as if the universe held its very breath, waiting for the next chapter to unfold. 

You wished you could say you could feel her love through that gaze, but you didn't know if you could use that word to describe what Natasha felt for you. Maybe she regretted what she did; maybe you became her anchor, even if unbeknownst to you, and she felt like she needed you to function; maybe she felt like she owed you something for bringing Clint back. You didn't know what it was, but you couldn't shake the feeling that the word love would be the wrong one to describe her feelings for you. Gratitude, thankfulness, maybe, but not love.

You smiled a sad smile, and nodded your head in acknowledgment to the gratitude in her eyes. 

Natasha furrowed her brows and pulled away from Clint as she saw you walking away from her, but before she could come after you, Clint caught her hand and walked towards the opposite direction. He wanted a conversation in private.

You just knew he was going to tear her a new one for what she did to you. During your journey back he had apologized more times than you could count, his words still engraved in your mind.

"I'll do whatever it takes to earn back your trust," he had vowed, his voice filled with determination. "I'll prove to you day after day that I care, that I value our friendship above all else. What happened the other day… it'll never happen again, I promise you that. I was too absorbed in my own pain, so much so that I hurt you, but I would never do that intentionally, Y/N. You're like a sister to me, I'd never willingly hurt you. I love you too much for that."

Maybe his love was real, but you didn't have it in yourself to just forgive and forget.

Maybe one day the gods would deem you worthy of love. True love, not the kind that hurts you.

~

"A soul for a soul" the Redskull said, turning the vast expense of cosmic beauty before you into something bleak, final. "You must sacrifice that which you love."

Your eyes wandered, drinking in the breathtaking scenery, the towering cliffs and cascading waterfalls; it seemed like a paradise carved from dreams. 

But the words hanging in the air casted a somber shadow over the planet's beauty, and as you stood near its vibrant precipice, the weight of what had to be done pressed upon the three of you. 

Destiny had brought you here, demanding a sacrifice.

It was a curse and a blessing all at once.

"If we don't get that stone, billions of people stay dead," Natasha stated, her voice tinged with determination, almost as if she was trying to keep herself strong.

Of course she'd want to be sacrificed, the selfless fool that she was.

Clint's gaze met hers, his eyes filled with a mixture of conflict and resignation. "Then I guess we both know who it's got to be," he replied, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. They didn't spare a single glance your way, it was almost as if they had mutually decided that you were to live.

A subtle sadness washed over Natasha's features as she nodded in agreement. "I guess we do."

You closed your eyes. You had been wanting this for so long, you had craved the peace I'd bring, you had fantasized about it, about closing your eyes and never opening them again.

And yet… you found yourself wanting to cling to life with an unwavering grip.

As Clint and Natasha looked at each other, you found yourself wanting to greet Laura, Lila, Coop and Nate when they came back, you found yourself wanting to have a nice day out with Yelena. You found yourself wanting to embrace Wanda and never let her go.

It hurt to know you wouldn't be able to do any of that.

"I'm starting to think we mean different people here, Natasha." Clint said then, his voice wavering slightly.

For a moment, Natasha's gaze lingered on Clint, her eyes reflecting the depth of her conviction. "For the last five years, I've been trying to do one thing: get to right here," she confessed. "That's all it's been about. Bringing everybody back."

She looked at you then, her eyes brimming with tears "I was so focused on it that I drove away the one person I had promised myself never to hurt.",

You couldn't look her in the eye, you couldn't let her see your decision through your gaze.

Clint's shoulders seemed to sag, you could see the self-blame he felt right through his eyes, even if they were focused on Nat. "And that's why it gotta be me. You spent all this time trying to help what was left of the world. Me… you know what I've done. You know what I've become." He shook his head, his eyes turning to you as well "If you haven't gotten to me, I'd still be killing an untold number of people without a care for who it'd hurt."

"Well," you said, shrugging, trying to lighten the mood a little "I don't judge people on their worst mistakes." There was no point in holding grudges anymore.

"Neither do I." Natasha said, looking at him. Her eyes turned to you then, full of sadness, longing , and regret. "I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

You walked towards her and pulled her in by the hand, your forehead resting against hers.

"I love you, Nat. You've been forgiven since day one." You said.

Natasha's tears streamed down her cheeks as she buried her face in the crook of your neck.

You saw from the corner of your eye Clint taking a step back, as if to go to the cliff. You extended your hand to him as well. He stopped in his tracks and took a couple steps in your direction, taking your hand in his.

He smiled a sad smile, his eyes red. "Tell my family I love them" he said, and tried to pull his hand away, but you gripped it with all the strength you had.

"Tell them yourself," Natasha said, pulling away from you as well.

You sighed, your eyes burning with unshed tears. You didn't want to die anymore. You wanted to live.

But you couldn't let them sacrifice themselves.

You ripped the bracelet Tony made from your wrist. It clattered on the ground. Natasha and Clint's eyes widened, almost as if they hadn't even thought of the possibility of you being the one to jump.

You felt an unbearable heat rising up from inside out, your lungs burned, your chest, your torso, your whole body. 

"Y/N what the hell are you doing?!?" Natasha yelled out, trying to get to the bracelet on the floor, but the burning winds that seemed to suddenly emanate from you wouldn't let her get closer.

"Take care of each other. And of Wanda and Carol. That 's all I ask." You said, your voice no longer solely yours.

You saw a rising shadow on the ground, signaling the presence of wings on your back. Blood red wings engulfed in flames. The Phoenix's wings.

Clint was rooted to the ground, your power vicious enough to paralyze those of weaker minds.

Natasha, though? She was fighting to get to you, the winds clearly burning her skin, yet she didn't give up. You turned away from her, not wanting to see her struggle.

It was a short walk to the edge of the cliff, you didn't want to look back. If you said goodbye it'd make it feel more real. So you just jumped.

And then you felt her hand on your wrist, the searing heat making her skin burn, and yet, she didn't let go.

"No, please. Not you." She cried, and even with tear stained cheeks she was the most beautiful woman you've ever seen "I can't lose you like this. The world can't lose you. You're the only one of us that really deserves to live life to its full potential."

And then, as if her touch made your power purr in her presence, Clint broke free, running to where you were dangling and taking your other wrist in his hands.

This was hurting them, both physically and mentally, you saw the skin on their hands blistering, you saw the redness in their arms, the tears in their eyes not just from the pain.

"Let me go," you said with a sad smile. They had their families, they had their jobs, their missions; their homes. 

You had nothing, all you did was take up too much space or time. They deserved to live, even if you left them in ruins.

"It's not gonna work!" Natasha shouted in desperation, her expression one of pure anguish "I don't love you! It's not gonna work!"

You smiled sadly at her. She really didn't love you, did she? She just tolerated you.

"It 's ok, Natty. It'll work. You may not love me, but Clint does " you said, smiling at her through your own tears. 

"Y/N, please, don't do this," Clint begged too, sobbing as he held onto you with all his strength.

"It's ok," you repeated, and if it was to calm them or yourself , you didn't know, "it's gonna be ok".

You used whatever little control you had over your powers to push them away. As your body tumbled to the ground the last thing you remembered was the way Natasha used to laugh at your jokes, enjoy your food, take you out on dates. The last thing you remembered was how she used to love your presence, and not just tolerate it.

Maybe one day someone would be enough to have their love celebrated by her.

~

When Natasha and Clint woke up not much later in a galaxy colored lake, she clutched the stone that had appeared in her hands, wishing with all her might that it turned out different, that the last words she said to you weren't "I don't love you."

She loved you. Always did. Always would.

~

Wanda sat in front of your gravestone, her hair disheveled, her eyes red shot, her cheeks tear stained. She hugged her knees as she sobbed, longing for the presence of who could no longer be by her side. She had lost her parents, then Pietro, Vision, and now you.

She sobbed more and more, the pitiful sound getting louder.

She felt a hand on her shoulder then, and she looked up to see red shot brown eyes.

Carol sat beside her, taking her hand and squeezing it a little. 

She understood what Wanda was going through, she was grieving you as well, and even though Wanda and Vision were planning on starting a life together, the witch suspected the Captain wouldn't have said no if you'd asked the same thing from her. So she, too, lost her love, even if she never got the courage to confess it.

It was a hot day, the sunlight shone perpendicular through the clearing where your grave has been put, creating a magical scenery all around the place.

And yes, the day was hot, but was it supposed to be this hot? 

Wanda shook her head, her brows starting to sweat.

And then the sunlight vanished, as if something gigantic was blocking its path. She and Carol looked up, but all they could see were the trees blocking the sky from view.

The animalistic cry they heard didn't come from the trees, though.

Neither did the blood red feather falling through the leaves, its tip engulfed in fire.

Wanda and Carol looked at each other, and for the first time in weeks, they smiled.

Natasha Romanoff Taglist: @strangegardentaco, @madamevirgo, @Lovelyy-moonlight, @agent99galanzo, @red1culous

#natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x you #black widow x reader #natasha imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow #black widow imagine #platonic clint Barton #clint barton x reader #carol danvers x you #carol danvers x reader #natasha romanoff angst #tolerate it #taylor swift made me do it #based on a taylor swift song #taylors version