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#Natasha x Reader x Bucky
unabashedcandymaker · 6 months
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Uncertain 02
Summary: Pregnancy progresses, and while your relationship stays strong in the beginning, the dynamics start as the pregnancy progresses.
Warnings: self-doubt, depression, anxiety, general not great feelings
Words: 5.6 k
Natasha x Reader x Bucky
Uncertain 01 / Uncertain Masterlist
Less than a week later, you’re in the med bay, flanked by both Natasha and Bucky, lying on your back, knees spread, waiting for the doctor to finish with the ultrasound. 
Seeing as how you were the first person to be carrying the progeny of a super soldier, the very best OBGYN in the world had been brought in just for you. A whole new wing has been added to the med bay now too. The idea had been to keep everything ‘in house’ until they had an idea of what to expect with this pregnancy.
Not that it mattered to you one way or the other. Natasha was grateful for the preparations and that there would always be someone close by if anything happens. Bucky, on the other hand, grumbled about letting the government have their hand in your very personal, very private ordeal. But, he didn’t really mind as long as you were ok with it.
You were an anxious mess regardless, trying your best to focus on the grainy image on the big screen tv that was attached to the ultrasound machine. Nat squeezes your hand, and you look up to her to see her giving you a reassuring smile. She was excited. You and Bucky were more reserved, but it did nothing to dampen her spirits. Her brilliant green eyes were shining as they moved between your face and the screen.
It was easy for you to get caught up in the moment with her. You didn’t have to force the smile on your face when you looked back too. You reach your other hand over your head in the general direction where Bucky was brooding, and was greeted with his warm hand engulfing yours, fingers interlocking, his thumb stroking your wrist.
“And here’s your baby. Let me take some measurements and we can get a more approximate idea of how far along you are,” the doctor says as she points to the peanut-shaped blob right in the middle of the screen. “Looks like you’re a little further along than we expected. I’m getting about 9 weeks. Which means that maybe, let me just see here, maybe we can…oh yeah, here we go…”
And breath is sucked out of your body when a rushed whooshing noise fills the room. You know what it is even before the doctor tells you.
“...there’s the baby’s heartbeat.”
Natasha is squeezing your hand harder, holding it to her chest, and you can feel Bucky shift behind you, releasing your hand so he can lean down to kiss your forehead. His fingers stroke your hair, never breaking contact as he looks up at the screen again.
The doctor is printing out a long line of pictures, makes a couple notes in your chart, and then is cleaning you up.
“Everything looks great. Mama and baby both look healthy and everything appears to be as expected at this stage. I don’t see anything abnormal or that would be a cause for concern. Your hormone levels look normal. I know it’s too early to say, but I don’t see anything here or in the bloodwork that would indicate this would be unlike any other normal and healthy pregnancy.
“But with that being said, I’d like to see you again in two weeks. I'd also like to repeat the bloodwork then too. Just to be on the safe side. Please don’t hesitate to call me if you have any questions or concerns. This is my personal cell phone and home number,” she says as she hands you a card that Bucky promptly takes and puts in his back pocket with a nod. “I’m on call 24/7. You are my only patient until we deliver this baby. So believe me when I tell you I am being very sincere. Please. Call me with anything. It has been a pleasure to meet all of you. I’ll give you the room and you can let yourselves out whenever you’re ready.”
And for the next few months, everything has been great. Natasha has been over the moon. Even her normally stoic demeanor when working with the team has been a little softer, a little less scary. 
Sam and Steve have been the only ones brave enough to tease her, and she only replies with a smile in kind. ‘How could I not be so happy. Look how perfect my life is.’
But when she’s in the privacy of your home, she’s a wildfire. She consumes you, every bit of you, every chance she gets. Always touching you, always seeking you out, craving your closeness.
She’s also obsessed with making sure you are eating enough and eating well, but also indulging every single craving. Bucky has fussed at her more than once for it, but it hasn’t stopped her yet. You want ice cream at 3 am, you best damn well believe that she’s already on her way to get you your ice cream. She helps you remember your vitamins and to drink plenty of water, quick to chime in with the, ‘no, my love, that has too much caffeine. Maybe I could make you this tea instead.’
She dotes on you constantly. Everyday that she’s home, she’s making your breakfast, bringing you lunch to your desk at work, sneaking in extra snacks in case you get hungry later. That part wasn’t unusual to happen before the pregnancy, but now she’s made it part of her daily routine. She’s made it her mission to spend as much time as physically possible by your side.
And you won't deny, you absolutely love it. 
And Bucky. Your poor, sweet, hopelessly overwhelmed Bucky. He hasn’t figured out what to do with himself. Right after the first doctor’s appointment, he bought a dozen different pregnancy and baby books, and threw himself full force into reading them all as quickly as possible. Every morning he greets you with a sweet kiss and a new fact he’s learned concerning the development of your baby. 
“Did you know the baby can open and close her hands?”
“The baby can sense light and soon, it’ll even be able to taste...how wild is that?!?”
He spends a majority of his time brooding just like before, but the further you progress with this pregnancy, the more relaxed and comfortable he becomes, and dare you say, he may even be getting excited. Which is refreshing as you are officially starting to experience symptoms of your pregnancy other than morning sickness. 
But when you’re in public, his attitude is wildly unpredictable. Sometimes, he’s constantly following you around, hovering over your shoulder, throwing threatening glares at anyone who might try to come too close. Other times he’s so soft and gentle, like you’re made of glass and may break if you overexert yourself. He’s always got you in his line of sight whenever physically possible. If he’s in the building, you may not be able to see him, but you better not doubt that he can see you. 
You love the predatory behavior just a little less, but you appreciate it all the same. It’s his way of showing you he cares.
In the bedroom is where you’ve noticed the biggest change. 
Bucky barely touches you. It’s almost like he’s afraid to. He’s too soft, too hesitant. And it doesn’t matter what the pregnancy books say, or how many times you try to assure him that everything is fine, that he shouldn’t handle you any differently, he only ever gives you a small smile, kisses you on the forehead. Sometimes he will pull you into a hug, and although he never says anything, you can tell he is silently dismissing the conversation. You never want to push him or make him uncomfortable, so you always let it go, chalking it up as an unpleasant side effect.
The biggest change in the relationship comes after you first start showing. It happens around the 5 month mark, just a couple days before your next ultrasound appointment. 
It’s Sunday morning and you’re all three lounging on the couch, your head in Bucky’s lap, your body lying on the length of the couch, while Natasha is laid between your legs, her cheek resting on your belly, her hand rubbing lazily along the slight swell. Everyone’s quiet and you’re even on the verge of a nap when suddenly, Nat is jumping from her spot up to her knees, hands held up in front of her, a wild look on her face. She’s starting at your belly for a long couple seconds before her eyes dart up to yours. 
“What...I...did she just...I think I felt her move…” Natasha whispers as she stares down at your belly again. 
You giggle and relax back into Bucky’s lap, reaching both your hands out for hers. She’s slow to comply, but eventually does. You take her wrists and push her hands under your shirt, her palms flat on your stomach. Your hands cover hers and you’re moving them around, trying to find the spot where you feel the baby kick the most. 
You settle and hold her hands still, just watching her face as she’s staring at your intertwined hands. Then, her eyes light up again when she feels the baby move again. 
“You feel that?” She asks in wonder. 
“All the time,” you smile, relishing in her excitement as she lowers her body back into the couch, her hands still planted firmly on the spot you put them. Her face is inches from your belly and she’s whispering something you can’t hear, but she’s delighted when she can feel the baby bump against her hands again. 
“You wanna feel?” You ask, looking up to Bucky who looks like he’s frowning from this angle. 
“Maybe later. Don’t wanna impose on her moment,” he says with the smallest smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, as he jerks his head to Natasha who is clearly having the time of her life as the baby keeps pushing up against her hand over and over again. 
Something about his reaction feels off and it’s almost unnerving, but you push it to the back of your mind as Nat starts with rapid fire questions.
‘What does it feel like?’
Like I have gas. 
‘How long have you been able to feel it?”
I don’t know, a couple weeks maybe?
‘Why didn’t you say something sooner?’
Lord, Tash, I don’t know, cause of this?
‘When is she most active?’
When I’m trying to sleep mostly. 
There’s a dozen more questions, and you answer each with what’s left of your patience as you try to close your eyes. All the while, Bucky sits above you, still as a statue, his blank expression giving nothing away as you relax into his lap again. 
At your 20 week appointment, during the anatomy scan, all three of you are surprised to find out that the baby is a boy!
All this time, you and Natasha were so sure it was a girl. It felt like a girl. The image in your head was a girl. But you’re not disappointed in the least, as the image starts shifting to a little mini version of Bucky, with deep, blue eyes and shaggy dark hair.
The image on the screen in front of you is a strong, healthy, active, and quite large baby boy. Absolutely perfect and healthy in every single way. 
“You’re measuring a few weeks ahead of gestation age, but that’s nothing to worry about just yet. Maybe start taking it a little easier at work. Might be a good time to start to lighten the load at work. Maybe also not physically exerting yourself too much. As I’ve said, nothing to worry about, you’ll be able to feel it when it’s uncomfortable. Just don’t push it,” the doctor assured. 
So with a clean bill of health, you leave the office. Bucky beaming like the proud papa he is, staring down at the new ultrasound image, but isn’t offering you much else besides a bashful smile and a sweet kiss to your temple. 
Natasha wants to celebrate. She’s insisting on throwing a party, and wants to invite everyone in the compound so she can express her excitement with everyone that means anything to her. 
You’re not sure how you manage, but you and Bucky talk her into a quiet dinner at home instead. She’s not especially thrilled about it, but she relents when you promise she can be in charge of decorating the nursery anyway she likes; total artistic freedom. 
And everything still continues to be fine. 
Your belly has started to become more noticeable every passing day. You’ve long since stopped being able to fit into your regular clothes, finally surrendering yourself to pick up a few new outfits from the maternity store. Natasha is unbelievably excited to help, throwing shirts and pants and dresses and skirts over the door of the changing room. 
It’s not long after that she sneaks into your dressing room and makes you come twice as she presses you against the wall.
And she continues to be as affectionate as she’s always been, if not even more so. 
But Bucky has just about pulled away from you completely…at least he has physically. It happened so slowly that you weren’t really sure it was happening at all until he stopped joining you and Nat in your bedtime activities almost every night. There’s always an excuse why he can’t come to bed just yet with you, opting to wait until you’re already fast asleep before crawling under the blankets and pressing himself into your back.
You know he still loves you, he shows you that everyday. He still kisses you good morning and goodnight. He occasionally drops by to intimidate all of your coworkers. He still laughs at all your stupid jokes and does all those little things he’s always done to show you he still cares. 
But he won’t touch you anymore, not like he used to. He’s careful not to touch your belly and it’s been too long since you’ve been intimate with him.
And every single day, you try to tell yourself that it’s not you, that everything’s fine, everything’s normal. This is all in your head. 
But also with every day that passes, it’s getting harder. 
All those insecurities you’d felt before you’d met Nat and Bucky, and even at the beginning of your relationship, and all your self-doubt starts to creep back in, whispering to you every single reason Bucky doesn’t want you anymore.
Every time he pulls away before you can deepen a kiss, the voices start to get a little bit louder. Every time you see his hands lingering on Natasha’s waist instead of yours, you sink a little further down. And on the several occasions you’ve walked in unexpectedly to see his dick sink deep, deep inside of her instead of you, you’re already so far gone that you can’t see the light anymore. 
Why won’t he touch you like that anymore?
Why doesn’t he hold you the way he holds her?
Does he not find you attractive anymore? 
How could he, have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?
Everyday it becomes more harrowing a task to push the repulsive thoughts away. 
Now, you agree with them. How could you not? They’re true. You have gained a lot of weight. 
Sure, the doctor says you're well within the healthy range, and it’s what is supposed to happen! This is healthy for the baby, right?
But you are unable to ignore them when you’re standing in front of the mirror, in the privacy of the guest bathroom, all by yourself. 
Suddenly, the light seems harsh and you can’t help but see everything that’s changed in the last few months. 
You aren’t sure how you let it get this far, but you’ve become so self-loathing that you can only see every extra pound you’ve gained and every horrifying, ugly stretch mark.
Your hips have widened. Your butt is bigger. Your boobs have started to swell and droop just slightly. Is one boob bigger than the other now?!? Even your face seems to be a bit chubbier. At 6 and a half months, these things were to be expected, sure, but you can’t stand it. 
Now that you see all the ways your body has changed, seeing what you believe he is seeing, you completely understand why Bucky doesn’t want to be intimate with you anymore.
So, it starts to feel almost natural that you should start shying away when Natasha tries to initiate intimacy. At first, she’s worried because you’ve never denied her before, you’ve never wanted to before, but she eventually brushes it off as a side effect of this later stage of your pregnancy. 
Your wardrobe starts changing along with your mood. All the cute maternity clothes you’d bought with Natasha six weeks ago have all been exchanged for overly large, shapeless sweaters and tee shirts; anything you can find that hides your baby belly. 
The time you used to spend cuddling on the couch, you now opt for the plush armchair across the room. Bucky furrows his brow, but doesn’t say anything. Natasha will try to persuade you to join them, making plenty of room for you to snuggle in between them, but that usually ends with you excusing yourself to the bedroom for the rest of the night. 
Then, you started changing in the bathroom where neither could see you. You started locking the door whenever you would shower, not wanting to risk them accidentally walking in and seeing you. 
They’ll be repulsed. 
And it’s not long after that that you start sleeping on the couch. Or in the guest bedroom that Natasha was slowly transitioning into the nursery. 
Both protest the first time it happened, but when you claim you’re too uncomfortable and need a little extra space, they let you do whatever you say you need to do. They both give you very disapproving glares when you snatch up your pillow and make your way out of your bedroom, but they never try to stop you.
Natasha is trying to spend all her free time with you, but you were soon finding excuses as to why you can’t anymore. You’d start staying later at your desk, claiming you had too much to do to prepare for your maternity leave, even though that would still be almost two months away.
But no matter how many times you tried to convince them otherwise, they both still insisted on going to all your doctor appointments with you. They were both still so incredibly into this baby. 
The appointments were becoming more frequent since you entered your third trimester. Instead of twice a month, you are being seen every week. And used to, the three of you would walk to the appointments together, but now, you worked right up until the last minute, meeting them in the doctor's office not a minute sooner than you had to. 
They both stand when you enter the room, each pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head, or your cheek, but you’d shrug away as you’d take your place on the exam table. Natasha, as always, looked like a kid on Christmas whenever she would hear the baby’s heartbeat. Bucky is always right there, his hand on your shoulder, smiling like a proud papa.
For these brief moments, your life would feel normal again, that everything was as it should be, especially when they’d look at you the way they are right now. But, as soon as the doctor walks out, the spell is broken. 
You’re coming up on the 34th week of your pregnancy, and you absolutely can not take any of this anymore. Your hormones are wreaking havoc on your mentality. Everything makes you cry; songs on the radio, tv shows, the fucking commercials about the dogs…EVERYTHING. 
And that’s not counting the physical changes. Your body has stretched to unbelievable proportions, and you feel like you’re looking into a funhouse mirror every time you accidentally catch a glimpse of your own reflection. Everything hurts no matter your position. You’re never comfortable. The baby has gotten so big now and he thinks your bladder is his own personal trampoline, causing you to run to the bathroom every 30 minutes.
And above all else, the icing on the cake to make everything so much worse, you miss Bucky and Natasha.
You HATE yourself for how much you miss them. 
You miss the way Bucky’s eyes would crinkle when he smiles at you first thing in the morning. You miss the way Natasha’s hands always felt so soft as she would cup your face when she’d kiss you. You missed their heat as you snuggled between the two of them every night. You missed the way the three of you used to fit so perfectly together. 
You used to think that it was going to be the three of you, forever. You used to think that there would be nothing that could have separated you from each other. 
Oh, how wrong you were. Turns out that this tiny baby, weighing no more than 6 pounds at this very moment, was just big enough to set your world on fire, destroying everything you ever loved.
A tiny nudge from the inside pulled you back. And crushing guilt was added to your already depressing episode. Of course the baby was not to blame for your crumbling relationship. You had nobody to blame for that but yourself. Because you weren’t enough anymore. You were never going to be enough ever again.
Unsure of how you managed to get here, you find yourself curled up as much as your belly will allow you to in the middle of the bed, clutching Natasha’s pillow to your chest as half your face is buried in Bucky’s. You don’t hear the front door open, so you don’t bother trying to hide the fact that you are full on sobbing as you were supposed to be home alone for the rest of the day; Natasha and Bucky both supposed to be at some training exercise off site.
And you can see them almost as perfectly as if they are standing in front of you now. Natasha, clad in compression capris and a sports bra, so firm and voluptuous, no doubt commanding everyone’s attention with her graceful movements and perfect form. 
And then Bucky, so tall and broad and handsome as he broods, but executing each drill with commanding force and precision. What a beautiful pair the two of them make. 
Maybe Nat is sending Buck a flirtatious wink from across the training area. Maybe he’s giving her that playful smirk. Maybe there’s some teasing touches, some witty banter. Maybe their hands linger on the other for a second or two longer than is necessarily polite. 
And you sob harder. 
Of course this was why Bucky wouldn’t want to touch you anymore. That’s what started all of this in the first place. Your body was changing and he didn’t find you attractive anymore. And who the hell would be compared to what a knock-out Natasha is at any given moment. 
And you know from experience exactly how beautiful she is. When you have someone like her, someone with such ethereal beauty that transcends all of space and time, how could anyone ever look at someone like you the same way? You only wonder how Bucky had ever found you attractive in the first place. 
God, they are going to be so much happier once they cut you loose and get you out of their way.
You imagine their life may go back to the way it was when they were together before, all those years ago, before you came along.
It takes a moment to register that someone’s in bed with you, curling themselves around your body under the cocoon you’ve made with the duvet. Your instinct is to pull away, but strong, slender arms only hold you tighter as you’re pulled closer.
“Please,” Natasha’s voice is in your ear, broken and small. “Please, don’t push me away anymore. It’s killing me.”
You can feel a shuddering breath as she inhales and it’s more painful than you'd ever imagined, to know that she’s hurting too. That you’ve been the one hurting her. 
“Talk to me, милая девушка (sweet girl). I can’t…'' Her voice definitely breaks this time and you can feel her sobs more than hear it. “I can’t be without you any longer. Tell me what I’ve done to hurt you.”
Oh no. Does she think she’s done something wrong? How do you begin to tell her how perfect she is? How could she ever think she had hurt you?
It’s you. You’re the problem. She has to know that. 
You have to tell her the truth. It’s the only way she will finally understand what you already know. 
You tell her everything, even though it hurts, but it would continue to hurt so much more if you didn’t.
She holds you close as the words mixed with broken sobs pour from your mouth. Every insecurity that has grown into a festering wound inside of you; every dark and sinister thought that whispers its vicious poison when you’re alone, filling your mind with darkness and pain; every self-deprecating realization that your only loves deserve far better than you. 
You lay it all bare and then you wait. You wait for her to tell you it’s all true and while they might still love you, you’ll never fit into their perfect little family anymore. 
When she lets you go, you know this is the beginning of the end. You know she’s pulling away. She’s going to walk away from you, this time forever…
But no, while she does release you, it’s only to crawl over your body so she can lay face-to-face with you. Her green eyes are red-rimmed as her own tears fall freely.
“I need you to understand something. I am always going to love you. I am always going to want you, whether you weigh 100 pounds or 300 pounds or even 500 pounds. It doesn’t matter to me if you wake up tomorrow morning, having developed elephantitis and are permanently deformed for the rest of your life. 
“It doesn’t matter to me what you look like, because that’s not the part of you that I fell in love with. I fell in love with who you are on the inside, and on the inside, you are always going to be the most beautiful person I’ll ever know.
“You, my sweet, sweet girl, have always been, and always will be my greatest love,” she whispers as she cups your jaw and swipes at the steady stream of tears running down your cheek. Her hands are soft and her movements are so gentle and you’d forgotten how wonderful it was to be touched by her. 
“B-but Bucky…” you argue, but she cuts you off with a finger pressed to your lips. 
“I love him too, always, with everything in me, but it doesn’t make anything I’ve just said any less true. I’ll never have anyone else like you. There’s nobody that makes me feel the way my sweet girl does.”
She pulls you in close, carefully positioning herself against you so she’s cradling your large belly in her lap, your head under her chin. You still cry as her hand rests gently on your belly, rubbing soothingly across the taut, stretched skin. 
“I thought it was me,” she admits after you’ve finally started to calm down. “I thought...I thought you were going to leave. When you started pulling away from me, I thought I was going to lose you because I wasn’t enough anymore. 
“And then, if you left, it would only have been a matter of time before Bucky would leave, too. He’d follow you anywhere. You’re the mother of his child, how could he not? And what am I compared to you? What can I give him? There’s no future with me if you’re not here.”
It was your turn to hold her as she cried. It took some serious wiggling, but you managed to pull her into your chest, cradling her, comforting her. Her tears came hard and fast, staining the front of your shirt. 
“You’re my forever, Tasha. I wouldn’t...I couldn’t live without you. And I’m so sorry that I did this to us. I...I...I don’t know how to fix it,” you whispered into her hair, stroking the sweat dampened locks with one hand as the other held her close. 
“There’s nothing to fix, sweet girl,” she said with a sniffle, pulling back to look up at you. “I’m yours, мое сердце (my heart). I’ve always been yours.”
“But what about Bucky?” You whisper, willing yourself not to cry again as you think about the other half of your heartache. 
“It’s not what you think. I don’t know what’s up, but I know him and it can’t be what you’re thinking. He adores you. I know you can’t see it, but he still looks at you like you hung the moon. You’ll need to sit down with him and talk about it. We have spent too long tiptoeing around each other and look what it’s done to us,” she says as she scoots up so you're lying nose to nose. 
“And come back to bed. Please. I can’t stand to spend another night away from you. I don’t know if I can suffer through broody Bucky on my own anymore.”
“He can’t have been that bad,” you say with a small chuckle, curling a strand of red hair behind her ear. 
“You have no idea how insufferable he’s been without you,” she assures with a warm smile. 
“Speaking of, where is he? No...wait...what are you doing here? Both of you are supposed to be at…”
“At the thing, yeah, no, I couldn’t stand to be there a second longer knowing that you were here all alone.”
“Won’t Steve be upset you left?”
“Nah. But hey, even if he was, what is he gonna do? Kick me off the team?” She says with a scoff and a wink. “Besides, it was mostly for the incoming agents. We were there just as a morale booster.”
“But Bucky stayed?” You ask in a whisper. 
“I-“
“No, he didn’t,” comes a deep voice from the doorway. Your head whips around, your body following sluggishly after, to see Bucky standing in the doorway, arms crossed, and brow furrowed. 
“How long have you been here?” You asked as you struggled to push yourself up off the bed, to move anywhere else, feeling incredibly vulnerable and exposed in this position. 
But Nat’s arms hold you in place, keeping you on your side, as Bucky walked over, kicked off his shoes, and laid down next to you. 
“Long enough. Nat beat me here by a few minutes. I would have been here sooner if she would have waited for me to get in the car…” He’s smiling playfully, but his eyes are shining, wide, unblinking, and a little pained. “I waited in the hall, figured I’d give you two a few minutes…”
The silence stretches as you stare at him. There’s so many things you want to say, but you can’t seem to make yourself speak. You need to tell him how you feel. You need to tell him…
“I’m sorry,” he says, cutting you off before you can even get your mouth to open. “I’m sorry I made you feel like this. I’ve done this to you; I’ve done this to all of us, and I’m so, so sorry. But it’s not what you think. Not that there’s an excuse, but I never imagined it would have led to this; that you’d think I wasn’t attracted to you anymore…that I didn’t want you.”
You’re blinking away tears when they start springing back up. His hand reaches out slowly, pausing just inches from your face, giving you the opportunity to pull away. And when you don’t, his hand falls to your hair, pushing the tangled mess back away from your face. The touch is so tender that you can’t fight the tears from falling anymore. 
You’ve closed yourself off from them for so long that you’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to be loved by them. 
“It was me,” he whispers, closing his eyes. “I’m not...I won’t be...I’d die if I ever hurt you, or him. It’s all I can see every time I close my eyes. It haunts my dreams. And, ok, I’ll admit, I did pull back some, but you just seemed much more delicate than before. There’s a brand new little person growing inside you. And if I hurt you…or him..I couldn’t…”
His voice breaks and he’s blinking away his own tears. You know how he feels. It’s the same self-loathing you’ve been dealing with for the past few months. 
What a mess this has turned into. All three of you have been suffering through the same exact thing, feeling inept compared to each other, and instead of anyone talking about how they feel, you’ve been keeping it bottled up until it’s reached this breaking point. 
“What a trio we make, huh?” You whisper, reaching out and placing a hand on Bucky’s bicep. You’re giving him a watery smile which he returns as Natasha is hugging you from behind. 
“Maybe this would be a good time to suggest we go back to therapy…together…” Natasha piped up as she shifted upwards again, curling around you so she, too, could reach Bucky. 
“S’ not a bad idea,” you agree. “It helped before. Could be good to go in for another refresher before the baby gets here.”
Bucky sighs and nods. 
“I’ve missed you,” you breathe as you feel the both of them snuggle into you. “I’ve missed you both so much.”
And for the first time in months, with both of your loves snuggled in close, you feel whole and loved and complete. 
Chapter 03-Final Chapter
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buckgasms · 2 years
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Friendly Competition Pt.1
Hi darlings, this has been waiting in my brain for about 4 months 😩 so well done me for finally writing this absolute filth. This fic also unveils me as a total pillow princess so whoopsie for that!
Warnings: Threesome, two Doms one sub 🥹, reader is the focus, petnames, overstim, fingering, p in v, p in a, strapons, oral.... I mean I don't wanna give it away in the warnings. It's a threesome and I'm horny.... You've been warned.
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Something was going on with Bucky and Natasha. You could sense them both watching you and you knew they were talking about you. You didn't know exactly what they were saying because they had decided to converse in Russian but their eyes kept flicking to you as they muttered with dark smiles on their faces.
You glared at both of them and folded your arms across your chest. "What is going on with you two?" You pouted as they chuckled and came to sit next to you, squishing you on the sofa where you sat.
"We were just talking about how pretty you were" Bucky cooed in your ear as his fingers brushed along your thigh, dipping under your skirt, making your squirm a little. You flicked between each of them as Natasha stroked her fingers through your hair. "We know you want to play with us zaichik, you've been teasing us both for so long now..."
You shivered under their touches and smiled a little. You had indeed been wanting to spend time with both of them, but unwilling to choose between either of the super assassins because you cared about them both. "I haven't been teasing..." You grinned and in turn rubbed your fingers along their thighs, "I just wanted you both" and you pouted as they both chuckled.
"Knew she was a greedy little thing" Bucky growled, his fingers ever so gently grazing your underwear, making you gasp and grip his thigh. "So sensitive, gonna be so easy to have you coming for me hmm?" You nod as he presses a soft kiss to your cheek. Natasha scoffs and bats his hand away, "No way is she gonna come for you quicker than she does for me, you wouldn't hurt me like that would you zaichik?" You whine as she turns your head to look at her, "N...No...I'm good" you mumble as she smiles at you.
"We'll see about that...."
--------------------🐇----------------
Everything was a competition with Bucky and Natasha and you could tell this was going to be no different. They both argued about who got to have you first, who would make you come the most, the fastest. Your head was spinning as you lay on Natasha's bed watching them sniping at each other. Eventually you got fed up of their arguing and cleared your throat. "Well neither of you are going to win if you spend all the time arguing and no time fucking me..." You held back a giggle as they both stared at you.
"Looks like our little bunny has a bit of an attitude problem" he grinned, clearly loving it. Natasha looked more concerned, very rarely did she tolerate back talk and when you glanced at her your tummy flipped at ther stern look she gave you.
You pouted and made grabby hands at both of them. Finally they relented, removing some of the outer layers of clothing and you did the same until you sat between them in your cute underwear, panting with anticipation. Bucky couldn't wait to put his hands on you, stroking your soft skin, pawing at your breasts and pushing your thighs apart to stroke at your clothed heat, already soaked from excitement. Natasha climbed up the bed and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, you immediately mewled into her mouth as he claimed you, and your hands clung to her. She broke away and looked at you intently, "are you going to be good?" You nodded and Bucky landed a swat to your thigh, "words pretty baby, use your words."
"Yes I'll be good, I promise" you whispered and chased her for more kisses which she briefly provided. "You've been such a little tease" she muttered between kisses, and Bucky hummed in agreement as he slipped your underwear off and rubbed at your clit. "Leading us on, making us want you. I think you need to apologise, before we play with you." You moaned as Bucky continued to tease you and sunk his finger slowly into your aching heat, walls clenching around him in desperation.
"Yes, I...please...want to be good" you whined again and she smiled before standing up to remove her own underwear. She then straddled your face and gripped your hair, grinding her heat down on your face. You happily licked and sucked at her sweet taste as Bucky moaned and pumped another finger into your pussy. Your muffled moans and cried only heightened Natasha's pleasure and you reached up to play with her tits, desperate to make her happy, knowing it would only work out better for you later.
She praised you and chased her own release until your face was drenched with happy tears and her orgasm. You sobbed when she climbed off and Bucky removed his fingers from you, so close to your own climax.
"Hush baby" he mocked before pulling you to sitting, "you still owe me an apology remember?" You whimpered and scrambled to your knees in front of him, his dark chuckle making your body shiver. He pulled his fat cock out of his boxers and slapped your face with it a few times before sinking it into to your greedy mouth. "Ooh my god" he groaned as you worked his shaft, taking in as much as you could, tears streaming down your face as you choked on him. You alternated between sucking and choking relishing in the sounds he made, proving what a good little bunny you were. "Jesus, never thought she'd be this good" he moaned managing to pull away before he came all over you. You pouted at the loss but he leaned down and kissed you, tongue dominating yours as he wrapped a hand around your throat. "Perfect" he mumbled as he pulled away. "Are you satisfied she's apologised?" Natasha asked amused, and you looked between them with wide eyes before he nodded and you grinned.
She patted the bed and you crawled back up, meeting her in a soft kiss. "Stay just like that" Bucky said from behind and you halted on all fours as his cock slipped into your cunt, forcing your breath out of your body. You wailed as Natasha kept kissing you sweetly, as Bucky hammered at you from behind. "Is she nice a tight?" She asked, as if she was asking about the weather, and Bucky growled, smacking your soft ass as he did. "Like a fucking vice" and he changed to deep, long strokes that made your toes curl. Natasha's eyes flicked to where he was disappearing into you and she pouted. "I can't see from there, flip her over."
With all the willpower in the world Bucky pulled out and pushed you over in one quick movement. Before you'd even registered he was back inside you, filling you up with every stroke. Humming in approval she leaned over you and rubbed at your clit, holding your legs wide open when you tried to escape her touches. "Tut tut zaichik, don't hide, we want to see your pretty pussy" she mocked before spitting on your heat and rubbing harder than ever. That seemed to be the undoing of you and Bucky as you squeezed him impossibly tighter and you both moaned as he shot his hot load into you.
You lay there panting for a moment as Natasha kept rubbing, even after Bucky had pulled out. "I think I can claim that one" she smiled and Bucky huffed. "Nope, that was me, you just...helped." She scoffed at him and looked at you. "I made you come first didn't I zaichik?" You nibbled at your finger.
"Was it a tie?"
--------------------🐇----------------
What followed was the best afternoon of your life. Natasha was keen to prove her abilities so she spent a while playing with your pussy, using her fingers to draw orgasm after orgasm out of you until you squirted over her arm. Bucky was more than happy to watch for a while, and kept you busy by making you keep his cock warm in your mouth, your head resting on his thick thigh, hands held in his as Natasha worked you.
When he was fully hard again he dragged you away from her and sat you on his lap and made you bounce up and down on him. Your body, already limp, struggled to keep going, but they had little sympathy for their teasing little bunny. "Buckyyyy, can't...s'too hard" to whined, laying down flat on his chest. His chuckle rumbled through his hairy chest and you rubbed your face against him dying for some relief. "Oh is my poor baby tired already? Shoulda thought of that before you drove us crazy huh?" As you lay there he wrapped his arms around you tight so you were trapped and he thrust upwards, rutting into your sensitive heat. You cried against his chest and wiggled but he wouldn't release you.
While you were playing with Bucky, she was floating around her bedroom, finding various toys to use on you. She had been thinking about this for quite a while now. Seeing you in your current position she climbed up behind you with her favourite strap, and after lubing it up, pressed it into your puckered hole, which I'm her opinion was just begging to be used.
The sensation was overwhelming as she teased you, sinking in inch by inch as Bucky only slightly slowed down. He cooed in your ear, praising you for being so good and taking you both so well. You could do nothing but take what they gave you, white spots filling your vision as she sunk all the way in.
"Think our little bunny might pass out" Bucky muttered, stroking your hair and kissing your forehead. "That's ok, we've got all day" Natasha answered before thrusting her hips gently until both she and Bucky found a good rhythm. You fell almost silent, apart form a few 'ahs' escaping your lips. You had no other feeling than them filling your holes and the tight grip Bucky had around your body. You orgasmed over and over, but it was only when Bucky filled you for a second time that they ceased there movements and gave you some respite.
Bucky rolled you over, pressing more kisses to your face as you clumsily tried to return them. "You wanna keep playing with us bunny?" He whispered in your ear and held your face to look at him. You were floating on air and gave him a small smile and a croaky yes, praying it would never end. He smiled and kept kissing you until you wondered where Natasha had gone.
"Boys always make such a mess" she said looking at the come leaking out of you and Bucky smiled against your cheek. "She's just jealous, I think it looks very pretty baby." You blush and kiss him back as Natasha tutted. You then turn to look at her and make grabby hands again, this time much less coordinated. "Wanna make you come" you pout at her and she leans over, kissing you gently. "Oh you will sweetness"
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l0velysmut · 1 month
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family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”
me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:
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moonxnite · 9 months
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Yeah my life might be complicated but at least me and [fictional character] are living our best lives right now.
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realangelahernandez · 4 months
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Go to therapy or read another fan fiction of your favorite fictional character?
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buckyalpine · 9 months
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Pick Me
Bucky x reader 
The new recruit has her eyes set of a certain set of super soldiers. Especially your super soldier. 
warnings: jealously, Angsty bangsty, but also so fluffy fluffy and smutty, clueless Bucky, he really means no harm, go easy on him.
A/n - editing to add: when I first started writing this I loved the concept and wrote a large chunk but then I left it for months cause I struggled to actually finish writing it. This wasn’t even the original ending I had planned but I just wanted to finish it so yes Bucky should’ve done way more, pretend there was a time jump where he does a better job with earning forgiveness 🥲
-
“Everyone, meet Nicole, our newest recruit for the field agent training program” Tony walked into the common room where you were sprawled out on the couch with Nat, Sam and Wanda while a young woman walking confidently behind him. “She’s going to be staying with us for a couple of months to train before she goes onto the the field” Tony turned back to her, bringing her to his side. 
“I’m sure you know everyone but let me introduce you to them anyway. This is the very Natasha, Wanda, Sam and y/n” 
“Hey Nicole” You gave her a warm smile, happy to welcome her while everyone else also got up to greet her. “Nice to meet you” 
“Oh, ew, just call me Nic! I don’t really go by Nicole” She scrunched her face at the sound of her full name, her eyes scanning the room, clearly looking for someone. “Don’t suppose the very Captain America and Sergeant Barnes are here?” 
The hopeful uptick in her voice made it clear that’s who she’d been searching for. Right on cue, the two super soldiers walked into the living room on their way to the kitchen after a morning run. 
“Speak of the devils and I do mean devils” Tony snorted beckoning the men to meet the new recruit. “Rogers, Barnes, this is Nicole, preferably Nic” 
“Hello handsome” She gave Bucky a bashful smile before turning to Steve and batting her lashes, “and handsome” 
“Nice to meet you” Steve reddened at the way she gripped onto his hand before slinking over to the brunette, purposely sticking out her left hand so he’d shake with his metal one. “And you Sergeant” 
Bucky gave her a smile and quick shake, excusing himself to get some water while Steve quickly trailed behind him. Tony went on to take her to her room which was on the same floor as yours, all the other spare rooms occupied by a few others who had already started training. Nicole returned to the living room moments later with sweats and a hoodie, her hair tied up, plopping down onto the sofa beside Sam. 
“Hey, were doing a girls night, movies, junk food, wine, you wanna join us?” Nat offered with a smile hoping to make the new recruit feel more welcome even though a part of her was wary. 
“It’s a lot of fun, I was just about to get some snacks for tonight, let me know what you like” You add with a smile, only to be met with a scoff.
“Mmm, hard pass on that, wine isn’t really my thing, thanks though” She gave the group a tight lipped smile before turning back to the two super soldiers who had also joined at some point, scrolling through phones they finally knew how to use. 
“What are you boys up to tonight” She threw them a smile while laying back on the couch and kicking her feet up, letting her hoodie ride up in the process. 
“Bucky and I were actually just going get in a work out, nothing much tonight” He said with a smile, not noticing the way Nicole’s eyes lit up. 
“Oh wow I actually haven’t been by the gym yet but I guess it’ll be where I spend most of my time for the program” 
“You could join us if you’d like, we can show you around” Bucky offered, also missing the smirk that crossed her face, only seeing her bounce right up with an enthusiastic nod. 
“Really? That would be great, I’d really appreciate it!” 
“Of course, anytime. We’re just about to head down soon” Bucky stretched as he got up, along with Steve, waiting for her to change before heading down. She got up and went off to her room while you picked at the skin on your fingers. You felt a pang of something at the pit of your stomach at Bucky’s offer but you knew he was just trying to make the girl feel like she was part of the team. He knew more about feeling left out than anyone else; of course he’d never want anyone else to feel the same way. 
Still.
Something was off.
You shook off the inkling of insecurity you felt, not wanting to over think his intentions. You and Bucky were not official yet but everyone knew there was tension and a clear unspoken dynamic between you both. It was just a matter of time. Unless he had his sights on the new girl...
No.
He wouldn’t do that. 
Right?
*****
“She’s getting really comfortable around those two” Nat cocked an eyebrow watching Nicole have a field day sparring with the two men, throwing herself onto Bucky in particular, giggling when he’d help correct her stance or catch her before she slipped. Every since she joined them at the gym, she made a point to only work out when they were both there, finding excuses when anyone else would offer to help her train. 
“I guess they are really experienced, so it makes sense...” Your voice trailed off, trying to reason why she was practically glued to their side, again ignoring the uneasiness you felt when Bucky picked her up with ease and set her back on her feet. 
“Uh-huh, we’re all experienced” Nat rolled her eyes, plastering on a fake smile when the three finished up on the sparring mat, making their way over to the both you. “You three have a good workout?” 
Steve blinked, noting the iciness In Nat’s voice though Nicole seemed unbothered. 
“They’re great, can’t beat having the two best soldiers train me” She drawled out, giving them a wink. Bucky couldn’t help the blush that spread to his cheeks, not used to being praised and you couldn’t help the jealously that started to gnaw at you again. 
No.
Relax. 
“Anytime, Nic” He shrugged while Nat retched internally, deciding to cut through that conversation before it went further. 
“You know, if you come by in the afternoons, Agent Hill hosts a great self-defense workshop for women, great way for you to do some networking as well” Nat gauged the way Nicole’s nose scrunched, shaking her head. 
“Women’s workshop, sound’s like a drama fest waiting to happen, honestly most of my friends are guys, makes life easier, thanks though” her eyes didn’t leave the brunette, placing herself perfectly between both soldiers. “Besides, I’m pretty good with self-defense already, that's why I got these two helping me with a little extra” 
“Anyway! Y/n and I were talking about the event Stark is hosting later night. You’re both coming, right?” Nat looked at the two men before her, purposely avoiding the Nicole but it didn’t seem to matter. 
“Are you coming as well?” Bucky asked her, her eyes lighting up again, quickly recomposing herself after. “You could meet a few of the other agents too, get to know some more people” 
“Uh sure, I could come by for a bit” She shrugged, coming off as indifferent while shaking with excitement on the inside. “Thanks, Sarge” 
You sucked in a breath at the name she kept calling him, always dropping a suggestive tone in her voice. Or maybe you were over thinking it. It was perfectly plausible she was just being nice to the person who was making an effort to make her feel welcomed. Maybe she had bad experiences in other places that made her wary of women, hence why she only stuck to all the guys on the team. You tried to wrack you brain for answers that would make you feel a little better but came up short. 
But you didn’t want to be petty. 
You were more mature than this. 
“We have plenty of dresses if you want to come by and get ready together” You offered again, mustering a smile, making a final attempt to befriend the new recruit but she didn’t even look your way, fully focused on the brunette. 
“Uh- not really the dresses and heels type. I’m more of a sneakers girl to be honest” She tossed her pony tail over her shoulder, missing the way Nat’s eyes nearly rolled out of her head while you nodded, watching her sway her hips as she walked off. “I’ll drag myself over if I’m feeling it” 
“Oh-okay, then we’ll just see you there!” You called after her while Nat dragged you off, uninterested in your constant attempts to be friendly. 
“C’mon, lets get you ready. I’m going to make you look so hot, Barnes ends up on his knees” The red head smirked while you squeaked, feeling your face heat up.  “We’re putting you in that red dress, the one that makes his pants feel too tight, don’t think I didn’t catch him adjusting himself the last time you wore it”
“Nat!” You hissed, hoping he didn’t hear, the both of you in a fit of giggles as you made your way to your room. “Oh my god” you hid your face while she dug through your closet, pulling out the tiny dress that hugged your body perfectly, the red color making you stand out in the best way possible. 
“Go shower while I get all the make up out, I’m tired of miss pick me trying to get a buy one get one free deal with those two” 
You snorted, hopping into the shower, letting the hot water destress your muscles, feeling a little more hopeful with the dress choice you were going with. Nat didn’t waste any time; as soon as you were out, your hair was styled, make up done and heels strapped. You knew you looked good when both Sam and Tony did a double take, letting their eyes shamelessly linger on you with low whistles. 
“Y’know if you’re done playing games with terminator, I’d be happy to take his place” Tony wiggled his eyebrows while you giggled, taking a seat on the plush couch of the lounge where everyone else sat. 
“What are you ladies drinking” Steve came over with a tray of drinks from the bar, already well aware of what each person liked to typically order. 
“I’m good with a beer” Nicole shrugged, rolling her eyes when you took the pink drink from the tray, “Ugh, I don’t know how you drink those, they’re so sweet, do you even taste anything at that point?”
You shrugged, quietly taking a sip of the raspberry lemonade while she gulped her beer, signaling for another after slamming her bottle down. 
“You guys took forever to get ready, this is why I can’t deal with makeup and dresses n’shit” she snorted, directing her comment mostly at you, “That’s a pretty bright color, I thought tonight was supposed to be lowkey?” 
“Well I think you ladies look beautiful” Thor boomed, not catching the snark in Nicole's voice, his smile wide and voice completely sincere. “Especially you, Lady y/n” 
“Thank you Thunder” You smiled, though the giddiness you felt initially had taken a second hit for the night. He beamed, setting down a bottle of Asgardian mead, searching for the two soldiers.  
“Alright, where are the two that need this” He looked around for Steve and Bucky, since they couldn’t get drunk off of regular alcohol. Bucky strode in clearly dressed to kill, in all black from head to toe. Steve joined his side, their faces lit up like it was Christmas day seeing the crystal decanter in the God’s hands. Bucky’s eyes flicked back to you, his breath hitching in his throat, seeing you in his favorite dress. 
“Fuck sweets, you look- 
“C’mon Sarge, how about a little competition” Nicole nudged Bucky, cutting off the trance he had on you, her shoulder pressing into his, biting her lip and eyeing the alcohol, “Let’s see how many shots we can do” 
“This might be a lot to handle doll” Bucky chuckled while you froze hearing what he called her. Her eyes lit up again, quickly glancing over to you, her eye brow quirking before leaning into him more. 
Since when did he call anyone else doll. 
You felt your stomach sink, taking another long sip of your drink instead, but nothing distracted you from the banter that was taking place before you. 
“Ugh, finee, I’ll stick to regular vodka, c’mon Buckyyy, lets gooo!” She practically clung off him waiting for him to pour shots, inches away from crawling into his lap as he grabbed the bottles. You couldn’t tell if the flush from his cheeks was from the alcohol or the constant giggles Nicole made whenever he spoke but either way, you didn’t want to watch any longer. 
“Where are you going” Nat grabbed your arm as you got up to leave, though you didn’t need to say anything for her to understand. Her green eyes glared at the tipsy solders who were now busy with a game of pool, surrounded by the rest of the team, Nicole practically crawling up Bucky’s legs each time it was his turn. “For fucks sake-
“They’re just having fun, don’t worry about it”  You stopped Nat before she stormed over, shaking your head. As much as you wanted to red head to have her way with any of the three at this point, you couldn't be bothered. You were not about to fight for Bucky’s attention; if he wanted to give it to you, he would...
Right? 
You thought things would go back to normal at some point. But it didn’t. Nicole made a point of training twice a day, anything to get her hands on the brunette. Anything to feel the cool metal of his hand on her. In fact she’d taken up most of Bucky’s time outside of just training, always finding ways to tag along with Steve as well, all while avoiding the rest of the team.
*****
“What's wrong sweets” Bucky could tell something was on your mind while he stroked your back, his body still warm from the way he took you apart at least 3 times before filling you up till you were dripping and soaking his sheets. He had finally gotten an afternoon off, tossing you over his shoulder when he found you in the kitchen, not letting you get a word in as he shut the door behind him. You wanted to argue back that he couldn’t just have access to you any time he felt like according to his convenience, but as soon as his soft lips were on you, you melted, turning into a moaning mess seconds later. 
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages” You shrugged, toying with the corner of Bucky’s blanket, starting to feel more like you were just a body to warm his bed than someone he actually wanted to be with. “We haven’t really hung out recently” 
You had let yourself relax into his hold only for him to curse under his breath a second later after he noticed the time. He shifted you off him, making his way over to the closet to pull over his jeans and Henley before scrambling around for his wallet and keys. 
“Bucky, what are you-
“Sorry doll, I forgot I promised to take Nicole to the corner diner, showing her around a little bit cause she’ll be staying for a few extra weeks”
Fantastic.
“You spend a lot of time with her” You didn’t want to come off as jealous, keeping your voice even, though you were close to tearing someone's head off. Bucky didn’t seem to notice, humming in agreement while sitting at the edge of the bed to pull on his socks.  
“Yeah, she’s fun!” Bucky said casually, which only made the weight in your stomach feel heavier. “She almost beat Steve in MarioKart, just when he thought he was unstoppable”
“Hm” You didn’t bother saying anything else while Bucky threw on his jacket, patting down himself to be sure he didn’t miss anything. He caught the way your face had fallen, his cool metal fingers slipping under your chin to tilt your face up. 
“How about we hang out after? Around 7, we’ll watch a movie together, okay? I’ll grab dinner for us. Promise doll” He kissed your forehead before jogging off, closing the door behind him.
You were ready by 6, too excited to wait till 7, having showered and changed into something comfy, laying out Bucky’s favorite snacks and adding a few more soft pillows to the bed. You knew it was still early so you didn’t mind lounging around for a bit, anxiously checking the time as it neared closer and closer to when he was supposed to show up. 
An hour later, it was 7. 
Then 7:30. 
And then 8.
By 9, you had left everything as is, blinking back the hot tears that wanted to spill, retreating back to your own room, not wanting to see him at all, even if he did have a good excuse for not showing up, which was highly unlikely. You shut the door, throwing on an oversized t-shirt and crawling into bed, burying yourself under the covers, no longer bothering to hold back the tears that began to soak your pillow. 
****
Bucky cocked his head curiously, seeing his bedroom door left ajar, wondering why it was open when he definitely closed it before leaving. As soon as he stepped in, his heart dropped to his stomach seeing the pillows that were propped up against the headboard, his favorite snacks piled on the fluffy blanket, your fuzzy bunny slippers left behind beside his bed. 
He cursed under his breath when he realized the time, remembering his promise to you, running straight to your room, only to find it closed with the lights turned off. He tried knocking only to be met with silence, carefully turning the handle and letting himself inside. 
“Doll?” He felt his heart break further seeing the small lump under a mountain of blankets, curled up into a ball “Oh, doll” He strode over, sitting at the edge of your bed, careful not to wake you if you were asleep, his hand gently tucking a strand of hair from your face. 
“What” Your voice cracked, hoping he’d think its from sleep and not the fact that you had been crying. 
“I’m so sorry sweets, we lost track of time, we went out to grab food and then Sam suggested we check out that new arcade just down the street” 
We were supposed to do that you thought to yourself, swallowing down the lump in your throat, refusing to let your emotions get the better of you. 
“And then Steve and Sam had to leave half way cause they had a mission early in the morning. Nicole wanted ice cream so we went by Carla’s before coming back-
“You took her to Carla's?” You cut Bucky off, your heart breaking further. That particular ice-cream shop always felt like something special you shared with Bucky, the place he took you to when neither of you could sleep. It was the place you shared your first kiss with him, the place where he said he felt something between the two of you. It’s not like you owned the store but it felt like the final straw, your resolve finally breaking. 
“Yeah, I-
“Just go Bucky” There wasn’t a hint of iciness in your voice; just disappointment and defeat, both far worse than you being angry. Bucky froze, pulling your blanket away from you, only for you to push his hand away, burying yourself further into the sheets. 
“Doll?”
“Don’t call me that” It was the indifference in your voice that left him hurt and confused, mouth opening and closing, “Please leave” 
“Sweets, I can make it up to you, I promise-” 
“It’s fine James” You shrugged, pulling the sheets higher up, not willing to speak anymore, knowing you’d burst into tears again if you did. Bucky reluctantly decided to let you sleep, figuring you’d hear him out the next day but no.
How wrong he was. 
You avoided him in the morning. 
And the day after that. 
Nearly a week had gone by and you didn’t spare him a second glance, always finding an excuse to evade him whenever he trailed behind you. It didn’t help that Nicole attempted to stay glued to his side, not giving him chance to get you alone. 
*****
“What’s with you” Sam watched Bucky slump down onto the sofa, where everyone else lounged around, his face sullen from a lack of sleep, grumpiness amplified because why were you avoiding him so much? 
“Y/n isn’t talking to me” He shrugged, while Nat glared at him. 
“I wonder why” the red head mumbled, rolling her eyes at his confusion. 
“When was the last time you guys spoke” Steve inquired, equally concerned about why you were ignoring his best friend. Bucky was the last person to share stories about his love life but at this point he was desperate. He recalled the events of the last time he spoke to you, promising a movie night, going out with Nicole, taking her for ice cream, running late, apologizing to you afterwards, where did he go wrong? 
“I didn’t mean to forget- 
“Bucky!” Nat slapped him upside the head while he yelped, looking at her with puppy eyes. 
“What did I do?”
“Barnes, you absolute doorknob, you took her to all the spots you take y/n to, you’ve been spending all your time making little miss I’m one of the guys feel comfortable, you’ve made y/n seem invisible and you’re wondering why she’s not talking to you?” Bucky blinked while Nat continued, her annoyance only growing when she saw a message from Nicole pop up on Bucky’s phone. 
“You treat Nicole like your girlfriend. Imagine some new guy joins us, makes a point of eye fucking y/n the entire time, finding ways to constantly flirt with her and touch her, you’d be fine with it? Imagine he avoids hanging out with the guys but makes all the time in the world to chase after anything with breasts. On top of that, how would you feel if y/n went out of her way to make said guy feel more welcomed when he clearly just wants to get into her pants. You’d be fine with it?!”
Bucky shook his head, though still not fully understanding because Nicole was just a friend, not someone he’d even be into. Plus, its not like she was into him like that, right? 
“But Nicole doesn’t want to-” Bucky started, shutting his mouth when Nat nearly hissed, staring at him while he did the mental math, “Nicole wants to get into my pants?” Bucky looked at Nat wide eyes, ducking the cushion she was about to whack at his face, all the pieces finally clicking together. He groaned, running a hand over his face, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. Just as Sam and Steve were about to hum in agreement with Nat, she glared at them, their eyes growing wide.
“And you” Nat turned to glare at Steve, his shoulders slumping when he realized he wasn’t in the clear. He squeaked when Nat pulled his ear, giving it a squeeze, “What were you thinking. You didn’t once think it was weird she only trained with you two? Haven’t any of you noticed Nicole doesn’t hang out with any of us, Just you?” Nat waved her hand at the men that sat before her, their dumb stuck faces only adding to her annoyance. “Idiots” 
As much as Bucky wanted to hit his head onto a brick wall, he didn’t have time to waste, immediately springing up from the couch to look for you. He checked everywhere he could but you were nowhere to be found. He was so desperate, he found himself shuffling outside of Tony’s lab, hoping FRIDAY would give him your location. 
“You’re asking for a lot Barnes, y/n might add my name to the hit list if I tell you where she is” 
“Please” Bucky was ready to beg on his knees while the billionaire huffed, watching the former assassin look like a lovesick puppy. He cocked an eyebrow, noting the glassiness of Bucky’s eyes on his desperate face, nodding before calling for FRIDAY to look for you. “Also, I need another favor...” 
****
“Y/n, babygirl” He’d never felt such relief before, seeing you make your way to your room, coming back from your hiding spot from the roof, the scowl on your face clearly showing you weren’t trying to talk to anyone one your way over. 
“Oh, I’m babygirl now? Has doll now been reserved for Nicole” You couldn’t hold back the sneer in your voice, walking away faster, ignoring his calls. 
“Baby, please!”
No. 
“Baby, wait!” Bucky chased after you, not willing to let another day go by without you knowing exactly how he felt. He managed to get hold of your hand, gently tugging you towards his chest and spinning you till your back was against the wall, his chest nearly pressed to you. “Please, I-I need to talk to you, tell you how I feel” 
“There’s nothing to talk about”
“Yes there is” His voice was earnest, baby blues searching your downcast eyes, his finger tilting your chin up to look at him, “There’s so much to talk about, I adore you” 
“Do you also adore Nic?” You scoffed, while Bucky’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment, the pink spreading up to his ears.
“There’s no Nic or Nicole, theres just a y/n, my y/n, only you doll” You rolled your eyes at his response, trying to move away but Bucky wasn’t having any of it, keeping you pressed against him, “I’m sorry darling, I didn’t realize what she was doing or get her intentions. I thought she just wanted to get to know the team better”
“Wow” you huffed under your breath, wishing you had the space to flick the super soldiers forehead. 
“I know, I’m an idiot, and I’m an even bigger idiot for not making it clear I’m so utterly and desperately in love with you” Bucky bit his lip as soon as the words left his mouth, he’d said everything under the sun except those words before. But they were true and he’d kept it inside long enough. “I love you, I love you, fuck, I love you”
You squeaked in surprise when he scooped you up in his arms, tossing you over his shoulder, walking over to his bedroom, smiling when he felt your small fists hitting his back, your butt wiggling to be put back down. 
“Barnes, put me down, you can’t just say you love me and then carry me away like a complete ogre!” He set you down, kicking the door shut behind him before wrapping his arms around you tightly again, falling more in love with your irritated pouty face. 
“I love you sweet girl. God, I’m so in love with you”
“You’re an absolute idiot”
“An idiot who is in love” 
“You’re so cheesy” You willed yourself not to smile, ignoring the butterflies that fluttered at his words and love struck eyes. “you’re still a dick”
“I know. M’sorry angel, I didn’t realize what I was doing, I never wanted to hurt you. I should’ve known something was up when all she wanted to do was train 24/7 but I guess I misunderstood her intentions cause I didn’t see her as anything else. I’ve only ever had eyes for you baby, you have my heart. You always will” 
“Where is she right now anyway?” You melted into his chest, closing your eyes at the feeling of his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Isn’t she supposed to be leaving soon?” Bucky didn’t respond, his hands starting to wander your body instead, slipping up your shirt, rubbing soft circles on your hips. Without warning, he picked you up again, tossing you on the bed and pouncing on you, peppering your face with kisses. 
“Bucky what are you doing” You giggled feeling his beard tickle your skin as he started to trail kisses down your neck. 
“I may have requested Tony to have her stay an extra night” Your face twisted in confusion at his words but the devious look on his face made your tummy flutter. 
“And he happily agreed because...”
“Because...?”
“I want her to hear how good I can make the girl I picked feel” Bucky smirked as he crawled off you, stripping his clothes off before tearing yours off immeitedly after. “M’not gonna waste another second, gotta let the whole compound know who my best girl is” 
****
“OH G-GOD J-JAMES FUUCCCKKK” 
“That’s it pretty princess, that’s it, cum on my dick baby, my good girl, fuck you’re so good to me, look at that, God you’re soaked baby”
“Jesus Christ” Nicole huffed, no longer able to ignore the moans coming from Bucky’s room while the rest of the team pretended to be none the wiser, your loud love making carrying all the way down the hall. Bucky happily disabled the sound proofing in his room before pushing his cock in as deep as it would go, railing you into the mattress. 
“Baby you look so pretty when you’re all stretched out like this, c’mon you can take more, spread those legs for me baby, open up, c’mon, lemme in” 
“HNG PleasepleasepleaseJames” 
“So perfect when you beg, cock’s all yours mama, m’all yours, go on and use me, that’s it, ride this dick, you own me” 
“Bucky, gonna-c-cum, gonna-cum!”
“Cum for me princess, God I love you” 
“You want a snack?”
“Nick?”
“Uh-Nicole?”
“Huh?” Nicole whipped her head around to where Steve was innocently holding out the bowl of popcorn, while Sam stood up to grab more snacks before the movie started. She stared at everyone surrounding her acting as if they couldn’t hear the way you were screaming your vocal chords raw, the super soldier moaning louder than you, “N-no, I’m fine”
Tony cocked an eyebrow at the way her jaw clenched, mindlessly scrolling through her phone while Bucky’s thrusts punctuated with each word. 
“Y’feel so. Damn. Good. baby, could spent my whole life like this making love to you” 
“Fuck, I love you James” 
“Ugh- they’re so loud” Nicole rolled her eyes again in hopes that someone would feel the same but all she got were blank stares back. 
“I mean, terminator is practically in love with her” Tony shrugged while the others nodded in agreement.
“They’re cute. It’s about time they made it official, don’t you think?” Nat asked sweetly staring directly at her while Steve tried to chime in as well, his cheeks burning hot pink between the sounds of skin slapping and moaning. 
“They sound so happy together” he stuttered out while Sam snorted, choking from laughter. 
“Oh God, oh god, fuck-Jamie-JAMIE” 
“Yup, real happy”
“I-I think I’m actually gonna call it at early night, stay at the recruiting center tonight instead” Nicole headed straight to the main doors without looking back, the rest of the team giving each other satisfied smirks. 
Bucky collapsed beside you, panting, his short locks clinging to his forehead, a thin sheet of sweat covering his body. He truthfully stopped caring about what Nicole could or couldn't hear half way through, meaning every single word he said as he took you apart over and over again. You giggled at his shy smile when he pulled you into his chest, pulling the sheets over you both, kissing your forehead. 
“I love you pretty girl. I love you so much” 
8K notes · View notes
littleredwolf · 17 days
Text
Hungry Eyes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: The team overhears Nat and Y/N's 'girl talk' through the comms and feelings surface as a result.
Warnings: Suggestive content. Sex references.
Words: 956
A/N: I don't know what this is or where it came from, but if this goes down well I may write up something a little spicy for a part 2 *eyebrow wiggle* PART 2 CAN BE FOUND HERE
--
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“Bucky's done nothing but undress you with his eyes since you walked in,” Natasha's husky voice came over your earpiece and your eyes snapped to the super soldier on the other side of the room, your cheeks reddening to find him already staring in your direction. 
You let your gaze casually pass over him, playing the brief moment of eye contact off as a coincidence as you scanned the room for the mission, but your heart was pounding and you were sure he could probably hear it. 
“Doubtful,” you scoffed, though you couldn't ignore the tingle that travelled up your spine at the thought of Bucky finding you attractive. You'd had the hots for him for months, but your fear of rejection strongly outweighed your desire to tell him so you'd kept your little secret to yourself…and Nat of course. 
“Stop living in denial, anybody with half a brain can see how he practically drools over you every time he sees you,” Nat argued, and you rolled your eyes as you continued to survey the room. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s true.” 
“Stop watching me, you know it creeps me out when I can’t see you,” you hissed, eyes roaming the crowd in an attempt to spot the redhead. 
“If you could see me, I wouldn’t be very good at my job,” she teased, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes again. 
“Just hurry up and do your job, Romanoff - the quicker we finish and I can get out of this dress the better,” you stated, readjusting the silky garment that Natasha herself had picked out for you. It suited your cover well, but it was a little provocative for your usual tastes. 
“I’m sure Barnes would agree with you on that one…”
“As much as I’m enjoying watching Bucky squirm from this conversation, head’s up that this is an open channel,” Sam’s voice cutting in over the comms caused any reply you had prepared for Natasha to die on your tongue, the blood draining from your face as you turned to look at Bucky.  
The super soldier was no longer on his mark, but as you searched the crowd you caught a glimpse of him as he was making a swift exit. More than anything you wanted to follow him, to defuse the awkwardness and recover from the embarrassment of him overhearing Nat’s comments, but you stayed rooted to the spot, unable to leave your position. 
“Go,” Nat urged, as though sensing your inner turmoil. “Me and Sam have got this.”
A quick look towards Sam confirmed that he agreed, and you wasted no time in hurrying towards the same door Bucky had gone through moments ago. 
Surprisingly, he hadn’t gone very far, and you found him leaning against the wall in the foyer. Heat rushed to your cheeks as his eyes landed on you, and you smiled sheepishly as you approached.  
“Hey Buck,” you softly said as you reached him. “Sorry about what you heard back there - Nat was just teasing, she didn’t mean any of it.” 
“Didn’t she?” He asked, raising a single eyebrow. 
“What?” You frowned, unsure how to interpret his response. There was a way you wanted this to go, but you didn’t want to get your wires crossed and make even more of a fool of yourself. 
“You said she didn’t mean any of it, but how can you be sure?” 
He pushed himself off the wall and fixed you with an intense gaze, making your knees weak and your breath short. You didn’t dare look away - afraid that if you did, this moment would end. 
“I-uh…I don’t know what you’re getting at here, Buck…” you stammered, too dumbfounded to form a better response. You were very aware of how close the two of you were and the smell of his cologne and warmth emanating from his body was making your brain short circuit. 
“Then let me show you.”
There was no hesitation as he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, and you melted into him with a whimper. The sound gave him the encouragement he was looking for and he spun you round so that he could press you up against the wall, moaning into your mouth as you raked your hands through his hair. 
Everything around you ceased to exist and all sense left you as you gave into your desires, the feeling of Bucky’s hands roaming your body setting your skin on fire. You couldn’t believe this was happening, you’d never even let yourself hope that Bucky might actually feel the same, yet here you were, making out with him while his sizable bulge pressed up against you. 
Had Sam not cleared his throat over the comms, you were sure you’d have let the super soldier take you right there and then, regardless of the fact that you were in public and on a mission.  
“Channel is still very much open, guys,” he informed, and Bucky’s eyes widened in horror as he pulled away. You giggled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. 
“I’m not even sorry,” you told Sam teasingly, straightening up and readjusting your dress. You were aware of Bucky’s eyes on you and you looked up to meet his hungry gaze. 
“I can’t wait to get that thing off you when we’re finished here,” he blurted, and you bit your lip as heat flooded your core. 
“Then we’d better hurry up and finish,” you replied, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the main room so that you could get the mission, and later on your clothes, out of the way. 
PART 2
1K notes · View notes
moonvis · 3 months
Text
IDIOTS IN LOVE
Steve Rogers x F! Reader
incl. Natasha, Wanda, Bucky and Tony
Summary: Being in love with Steve Rogers isn’t easy with all the dates Natasha sets him up with. One day you’ve had enough and ask her to set you up, something you’ve never let her before – and a certain blonde isn’t too pleased.
Warnings: Angst to fluff! Jealous! Steve and Jealous! Reader. Misunderstandings. Two blind idiots in love with each other. 4.3k words.
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“Okay, I’m off to bed,” You said through a yawn and got up from the chair you’d been sitting in for the past hours, drinking and chatting with Natasha and Wanda.
Natasha took a sip from her glass, before asking, “See you in the morning for our run?”
“Count me in,” You nodded and walked towards the exit, your head facing Natasha, “Goodnight ladies.” The second you faced away, something tall crashed into you, making you trip on your own feet.
“Woah careful, doll!” A familiar voice said, as a hand grabbed you by your waist to steady you, “Are you okay, angel?”
“Steve! Oh- Thanks!” You felt a bit embarrassed as he was still holding onto you, his blue eyes looking down at you with what seemed like concern. His face was close, so very close, and his lips-
“Steve you’re back!” Natasha cheered from behind you, interrupting the moment, “How was your date?”
You immediately felt your heart drop at her question. Steve had been on a date. Again. You took a step away from the super soldier, looking down as he shifted his attention to Natasha, “It was good.”
You snuck out of the room in the blink of an eye, not wanting to hear about yet another one of Steves ‘good’ dates that never lead to a second one. Couldn’t he just choose one of the girls and make it official? That way you had no reason to hold onto the hope that he just might, someday, reciprocate your feelings.
You didn’t see the disappointment in Steve’s face when you suddenly disappeared out of sight.
You woke up in the morning with a burning headache. Partly because of the wine last night, but mostly because of Steve keeping you awake for hours. You always stayed to hear how his dates went, but it was always the same: “It was good, but there won’t be a second one, I’m afraid. Better luck next time Nat.”
Though what if it was different this time? What if he finally found the one? Your thoughts and feeling of regret were interrupted by a harsh knocking on your bedroom door.You knew it was Natasha and got out of bed. The floor felt extra cold this morning.
“I’ll be down in five!” You yelled trough the door and went to get dressed for your run. After swallowing some painkillers for your headache, you left your room to meet the redhead, desperately in need to get some fresh air.
You and Natasha jogged from the Avengers compound and ended up in the nearest park. As you felt the morning sun warming your skin, you felt a little relief lift off your shoulders. You needed this.
The two of you sat down at a bench, kind of like creeps, observing the civilians enjoying their own morning.
A dolled-up lady was walking her dog, or more like, the dog was walking her. You shared a laugh with Natasha at the sight. Your eyes followed her movements, watching as she passed a little girl blowing soap-bubbles. The little one let her tongue out to taste the bubbles, only for her nose to scrunch up in disgust.
“Cute.” Natasha commented from beside you. You smiled and let your eyes wander along with the bubbles flying away, which popped right next to an older couple holding hands. “Aww, look at them!” You commented.
The husband of the old couple, smacked his lady’s butt, growing a mischievous grin on his face. “Now, that’s cute.” Natasha commented this time.
“I know! Old people are the cutest.”
“I can only partly agree with you there. Buck and Steve are quite the old men,” Natasha laughed, “Wouldn’t call them cute.”
You chuckled lightly as your eyes left the old couple. To you, Steve was so much more than cute. He was the kindest, most caring man you’d ever met. He always listened to your small and bigger problems. He was always willing to drop everything to help you out. He was always by your side whenever you got hurt on a mission. You had no doubt he cared for you, and yet… he still went on all those dates like you weren’t even an option. He made you feel so special and loved, and you weren’t even each other’s. Oh, how lucky the one who wins his heart would be.
“Y/N? Earth to--”
“Oh, sorry!” You snapped out of your thoughts at Natasha trying to get your attention.
She gave you a concerned look as she spoke, “Are you okay? You seem down.”
“It’s just my head, it really hurts.” You excused, wiping away a tear you hadn’t noticed before.
“I’m sorry. Should we walk back? We can take it slow.” Natasha asked and got up from the bench, lending you a hand.
You accepted her hand and cracked a small smile, “Thank you kind lady.”
Once you started walking back towards the compound, a familiar figure caught your eye. Steve, with a girl beside him, was walking in your direction.
“Would you look at that! Steve’s on a second date,” Natasha cheered at the sight of Steve and Sharon Carter coming closer, “He said yesterday they wouldn’t go on a date again.”
Natasha was clearly trying to share her excitement with you, but all you felt was a knot tightening in your stomach. You liked Sharon, you really did, but of course she, a Carter,  would be the one to finally win Steve’s heart.
Natasha was waving at the pair, just to make sure they saw the two of you. The jealousy in your body didn’t help much with the headache, making you feel sick, “Nat, I’m just gonna go, okay?”
You weren’t in the mood to stand around and wait for Steve to arrive with his new love interest, you didn’t even bother to give Natasha a smile, “You can wait for them if you want. I’d like to have some alone time anyways.”
Natasha wasn’t sure how to react, starting to feel like it wasn’t just a headache bothering you, “You sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll see you later.” You left without taking another look back, leaving Natasha to start worry about you.
You didn’t see Steve’s expression go from excitement to concern as he watched you leave Natasha behind.
Back at the compound, you fall down onto your bed, soft sobs rocking your body. You’re tired of loving a man you’ll never have. You have his friendship, but your heart is still not satisfied. Now that Steve has found a beautiful woman like Sharon, maybe you can finally try to move on.
You roll onto your back, looking at the ceiling as your tears dry out. What are you going to do?
Then, it hits you. Natasha.
Just a soft knock on the door and a hug later, the redhead asks what she can do to make you feel better. You let out a sigh and ask away, “Could you help me, maybe… find a date?”
Natasha wasn’t sure she heard you correctly, but when you nodded, her face lit up in excitement, “Of course! It would be my absolute pleasure!” She didn’t even ask why you wanted a date all of a sudden, she was just happy you’d finally give her matchmaking a chance.  
“Oh my god! I have so many guys in mind. They would all be so lucky to have you Y/N. I have to pick one worth your time though!”
You chuckled as you listened to Natasha ramble on about who to pick for you, a feeling of excitement growing in your stomach. You were finally ready to give someone new a chance.
As the moon shone through your window, you thought about what tomorrow would bring. Natasha had already picked out a date whom you’d meet tomorrow night.
Busy in thought, you suddenly felt your stomach growl. Slipping out of bed, you put on a pair of slippers and wandered out your door towards the kitchen. Truth be told, you had been avoiding going around the compound in fear of meeting Steve, which also meant skipping dinner.
You fixed yourself a bowl of cereal and let your thoughts wander back to your upcoming date. What dress would you wear? Maybe the blue one? No. What about the white, the one you knew Steve loved so much?
“Hey.”
The sudden sound of a voice made you jump in your seat. As you choked on your cereal, you felt a hand patting your back.
“I’m sorry for scaring you. Are you okay, angel?”
You looked up to find Steve looking down at you. Damnit. You managed to embarrass  yourself in front of him again.
“I’m fine, thanks.” Your voice sounded hesitant, your eyes going back to your cereal. You listened as Steve made himself a cup of tea behind you, not a single word shared. You felt awkward.
You hoped he would just make his damn tea and leave - but of course not. The man sat down, right beside you, half facing you as he took a sip.
“So…” Steve began, and you felt yourself wanting to disappear. You were in the mindset of moving on a few minutes ago, but here he sat, the man you were so in love with, alone, giving you all of his attention. “How’re you doing? We haven’t talked much since, well, yesterday.”
Steve’s voice sounded hesitant, and you knew, that he knew, that something was up. The two of you hung out every single day, so not talking for 24 hours was unusual.
“I, uh… I’m okay. I’ve been a bit tired lately, that’s all.” You lied, and you didn’t sound very convincing either.
“Nat told me about your headache earlier today, at the park-”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You interrupted him, a hint of annoyance in your voice. You really didn’t want to talk about it. Especially not think about the sight of Steve walking alongside his new girl.
You hear Steve let out a sigh at your answer. You were hoping he’d let it go, though you knew Steve too well. The blonde put down his cup and turned his body fully towards you this time, “Y/N,” His voice sounded serious, “I know something’s up, more than just a headache, and it worries me. So, please, what is going on? Did I do something?”
You didn’t know you had it in you to be angry with Steve Rogers, but when you felt your blood boil, there was no going back. You jumped out of your chair and looked at him with rage in your eyes, “Why do you care, huh?”
You saw the immediate hurt in Steve’s eyes, his expression shocked at your sudden outburst. You didn’t care though, “It’s been a fucking day, and you’re worried about me because I haven’t talked to you yet? You haven’t even been home! The last time I saw you, quoting Natasha, you were on a second date with Sharon! Shouldn’t you be with her now anyways?”
“Y/N-”  
“No! Why the fuck do you sit here and talk to me like I’m the only thing you care about, like it matters how I’m doing? It doesn’t make any sense! You’ve always been like this, yet I’m just a friend sitting around while you go out and fuck all the girls Natasha find for you!” Your breath is heavy, tears threaten to spill from your eyes,
Steve was reaching out a hand to you but retracted it as tears streamed down your cheeks. You pointed a finger at the man, your teeth gritted together as you spoke, “And lastly, I am under no obligation to tell you anything about my feelings! So please, stop treating me like I’m your fucking girlfriend!”
Without taking another look at him, you spun around and left the room. As you disappeared out of sight, you ran down the hallway to escape into your room, not wanting Steve to follow. It was when you shut your bedroom door, you realised what you just did.
You yelled at Steve, for the first time ever. Worst of all, he hadn’t done anything to deserve it. That night, never ending sobs were rocking you to sleep.
As you stormed out of the kitchen, you didn’t see the look of heartbreak in Steve’s eyes. They carried more worry than before, confusion and a load of regret as he started to catch on to what was going on with you. It was all a misunderstanding, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.
Getting ready for your date was supposed to be fun and exciting, but after you yelled at Steve last night, nothing seemed to cheer you up.
You regretted every single word you yelled at him. He came to check up on you, but all he got in return was your anger. Though maybe it was for the best, now he had no reason to care about you anymore. You were an asshole. The thought hurt like hell, but you chose to use it as an excuse to ease your feelings.
You dressed up in a white beautiful dress, paired with a pair of white heels. It was Steve’s favourite outfit of yours – he had told you so with words, but his eyes when he looked you, oh, they said so much more. That's were you got the nickname angel from.
It was time to give the outfit a new association, perhaps, the first outfit you wore out with your new potential love interest?
As you walked down the compound hallway to leave, familiar voices came from the kitchen. You knew snooping was wrong, but you couldn’t help listening as it was Steve talking.  
“I’ve been a fool Buck,” Steve sighed, “What am I gonna do?”
“It’s all a big misunderstanding, right? Just tell her everything and I’m sure she’ll understand. Y/N always understands.”
“Yeah, tell her I’ve been going on a new date every week for the past year so that I can forget about her?” Steve groaned, “It sounds awful.”
It did sound awful. He really wanted to get rid of you huh? You didn’t understand why but his words hurt. “-so that I can forget about her.”
You sniffled and was ready to sneak past them, not wanting to hear anymore, but of course, both men noticed your presence. Stupid super hearing.
“Y/N?” Steve asked and walked a little closer to where you were standing, “Wow, angel, you look-” Steve gave you the same look as he always did when you dressed up. He looked at you in awe, which you usually loved, but now, you hated it.
“Princess, you look beautiful!” Bucky commented and walked over to kiss the top of your head, “Where are you headed off to?”
“Oh, I-” You looked at Steve, then shifted your attention back to Bucky, giving him a shy smile, “I’m going on a date.”
The words felt relieving to get out in front of Steve. Now he would know not to treat you like a girlfriend, since you were trying to see someone else, right?
“Oh, really?” Bucky sounded surprised, but you ignored it, “Have uh-” You noticed as Bucky gave a quick look at Steve, before plastering on a big smile, “Have a nice one then! Can’t wait to hear about it!”
“Thanks Buck,” You smiled, “I gotta go.”  
As you rushed out of the room, you didn’t see Steve clenching his jaw and fists. He was irritated at himself for letting it come to this. The feeling of jealusy made him feel sick.
It was an hour into the date, and you were actually enjoying your time. The guy Natasha had set you up with was an agent you had met before during some mission, Christopher. He was cute and had such golden retriever energy - he made you genuinely smile for the first time that day. Apparently he had been smitten with you for a while now, and to no surprise, Natasha knew.
As time passed by, it was time to head home. Both of you had work in the morning anyways. Cristopher followed you all the way back to the Avengers Compound, giving you a kiss on the cheek, “Thank you for giving me a chance Y/N. I had a really wonderful time. Will I see you again?”
Busy with your date, you didn’t see Steve standing nearby, observing the whole thing. He was tense, saddened and growing more and more jealous as he watched you laugh with the other guy.
Steve had come out to get some fresh air, to clear his head, but was interrupted by your arrival. You looked so beautiful, and the sound of your sweet laughter made his knees weak. Oh, how he wished he was the one who caused it.
The morning after your date with Cristopher, you felt the best you had in the last few days. You hummed as you entered the kitchen, the smell of something delicious hitting your nose, “Oh, what’s that smell? It’s amazing.”
“’I made pancakes, so I hope you’re hungry!” Bucky cheered and handed you a plate. You accepted it gladly and sat down at the table next to Natasha and Wanda to your left, and Tony to your right.
“Hey girl, you seem happy. I’m guessing the date was a success?” Natasha asked as she took a bite of her breakfast.
“You finally went on a date with Steve? Rhodes owe me money-” Tony started at the information.
You almost chocked on your first bite of the pancake. Why would he even think that? Didn’t he know Steve was dating Sharon?
“No, Tones, wrong,” Natasha corrected him, “She went with that guy Cristopher. Remember that agent who wouldn’t shut up about her?”
“Oh yeah! The guy who was blabbering about Y/N almost as much as Steve does!”
Steve was blabbering on about you?    
“Anyways, tell us how it went? When’s the next date?” Wanda asked, eager to know.
You chuckled a little nervously, “Well, you see--” You stopped talking as soon as Steve entered the kitchen, shocked to see his fallen shoulders and saddened eyes.
You observed as he grabbed a plate of pankakes, before heading over to the counter to make his morning tea. It was weird not hearing a good morning, or getting greeted with his soft smile. You had no idea what was bothering him, and it killed you inside.
"Y/N? You were saying?" Natasha questioned, as you had left them all hanging.
Your eyes didn't leave Steve's figure, even though he was facing away, "It uh... The date was good."
You watched Steve's whole posture tense as you spoke. Oh, how much you wanted to ask if he was okay. You just didn't feel like you had the right to. The last time you spoke, you were yelling at his face.
"Come on! Give us the details!" Tony pushed.
You shook your head, suddenly not wanting to bother Steve with details of your date. You plasteted on a forced smirk, "You'll have to wait and see if we weet again."
"No come on!"
As Steve was facing away, you couldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. You couln't see the absolute heartbreak on his face from the thought of having lost you. He really felt like he had lost the most important person in his life - and you didn't even know he saw you as such.
Over the past few days, you hadn't shared a single word with Steve, and it was starting to drive you crazy. You didn’t even face each other while in the same room - it was a good thing you hadn't shared a mission yet.
All you wanted was for Steve to be happy, and to be his friend again, so with that, you decided it was time to apologize for your behaviour – even if he wouldn’t forgive you for being such an ass, you knew it was the right thing to do.
Your palms felt sweaty, and your mouth all dried out as you stepped outside his room, “Okay… here goes nothing.” You knocked on the door, feeling your heart thump rapidly against your chest.
When he didn’t answer you knocked twice, then again and again. Giving up, you asked Tony’s A.I. for help, “FRIDAY, where’s Steve?”
“In the gym ma’am.”
You let out a sigh, “Is he… okay?”
“From what I can tell, he seems distressed and angry.”
You felt a knot in your stomach. It was 8 pm, and Steve never worked out in the gym that late unless he was upset, “Fuck… Thanks FRIDAY.”
Earlier that day, Steve had been walking past the door to your room at least five times, with the intention to make up. Though the super solider was way too nervous to bother you and chickened out. It was killing him not having your company every day. He missed you. So, with his emotions changing from heartbreak to anger, and the heavy regret from not telling you the truth and let your relationship come to this, he escaped to the gym.
You entered the gym and carefully closed the door behind you. It took you seconds to see Steve by the six destroyed punching bags on the floor, the seventh about to face the same faith.
Steve’s back was tense, and you could see the anger he was feeling in every punch. You felt the knot in your stomach from before tightening, your palms even more sweaty. Taking a deep breath, you walked up to him; it was time to face the music.
Speaking of music, before you knew it your ears were singing a high-pitched tone, your head hurt and your whole back was facing the cold floor beneath you.
“Oh my god!” Steve rushed to your side, worry in his voice, “Are you okay? I’m so sorry Angel!”
You blinked a few times before looking up at the concerned man above you. Putting a hand to your head, you groaned out due to the pain. Releasing deep breath, you let Steve help you up, “I guess I deserved that.”
You had been so smart to come up behind the Captain and stand in front of the punching bag. Because of Steve’s quick and hard punches, he failed to notice you in time, and punced the bag into you, sending you flying to the floor.
“Seriously, are you okay, doll?”
The concern in Steve’s voice made you forget why you came her in the first place. You only nodded and let him lead you to sit down on a bench. He didn’t let go of your hand as you both sat down.
Steve let out a shaky breath. It was clear it had scared him when he saw you flying in the air, and it was all his fault too. You could see the guilt on his face. He still cared so damn much.
You had enough of Steve feeling so down because of you, he didn’t deserve a second of it, “Steve I’m okay. I’m the idiot for creeping up on you like that… Also, I kinda deserved it after how shitty I’ve been treating you.”
“What are you talking about?” There was confusion in the Captain’s eyes.
“Just… let me talk.” Suddenly you had the courage to just get it out. You took hold of both his hands and looked deeply into his blue eyes, “I’m so sorry Steve. I’ve been an absolute asshole towards you.”
Steve opened his mouth to say something, but closed it as you shook your head, “Let me continue. You’re my best friend and I have so much love for you. You’ve been nothing but good to me, and I was yelling at you for it. Thinking about how good you treat me, your friend, I can only imagine how good you treat Sharon. She’s very lucky and I wish you guys the best.”
Your gaze fell from Steve and down into your lap, “I… I’ve been jealous. With all those dates you’ve been on… Why couldn’t you just pick one the girls and get it over with? I…”
“Cause none of them were you.”
You looked up at him, shock in your eyes, unsure if you heard him correctly. Steve plastered on a small smile, his eyes so soft as he looked into yours, “Y/N, there’s nothing between Sharon and I. The other day, when you saw us at the park, we were walking back from visiting Peggy’s grave. It was only a coincidence we were there at the same time.”
“Oh… but what about your date the day before? You said it was good?” You asked, feeling almost ashamed.
“You left too soon to hear what I told Nat and Wanda. I had a good time, but I wasn’t interested. I’d have way more fun with someone else there with me…” Steve’s voice was low, his hand coming up to caress your cheek, “I can’t hold it back anymore Y/N. I love you; I always have. And those stupid dates?”
Tears were streaming down your cheeks at his confession. Never in a million years would you have thought he loved you back.
Steve chuckled lightly, a hint of sadness in his eyes, “I went on those to get you off my mind. I never belied you could love me back, you’re way too good for me, Angel. Though every damn date I went on, I just couldn’t get you off my mind. Every time they wanted me to come home with them, I only thought; No, I can’t do that to my best girl.”
“Steve…” You felt so stupid for not having confessed your feelings earlier. All this misunderstanding could’ve been avoided, “I love you too. I love you so damn much Stevie.”
Steve breath caught in his throat, not sure he was hearing you clearly, “What?” The word came out weak, like he was scared to wake up from a dream, “What about--”
“Cristopher?” You giggled, “Oh, I had a nice time with him, but you know, he wasn’t you.”
Steve laughed loudly and you joined in. Both of you realised how stupid and blind you had been. You loved each other.
Steve caressed your cheek again, his thumb stroking over your soft skin. The look in his eyes were different than before; you knew it was love. His features, his voice, all soft, “Can I… kiss you?”
You only nodded and let him lead you towards his lips. The kiss was gentle, but a firework erupted inside of you. It made tears fall from your eyes, his too. Pulling away, Steve kissed the top of your head before speaking, “My beautiful, Angel. I can’t believe I finally have you.”
You threw yourself forward and let him wrap his strong arms around you. His embrace felt like home.
It felt so right, and finally, your heart was satisfied.
You didn’t see the tears continue to stream down Steve’s cheeks. You didn’t see the huge weight being lifted off his shoulders. He was so damn in love with you, and he already knew that someday, he wanted to call you his wife.  
THE END! Thank you so much for reading, feedback is very much appreciated <3
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sunvmars · 4 months
Text
only you || s.r.
pairing: steve rogers x reader (brief platonic!nat, sam, and bucky.)
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word count: 7.1k summary: only a few weeks after a breakup, you go out for the night with the team. steve doesn’t show up, and he’s been purposefully not showing up to anything non-work related after the breakup. however, tonight you drink a little too much, and insist that steve pick you up. warnings: angst (breakup, talk of bullying, body image issues), swearing, drinking, *smutty implications.
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"I'm sorry, I just didn't know who else to call," Sam explains, his voice raised to speak louder than the blaring music.
"She keeps asking for you, and she won't go with anyone but you," Bucky adds as he and Sam lead Steve through the crowded dancefloor.
The blond sighs and shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans. "It's alright, really- but how drunk is she, exactly?"
Before Sam can respond, they come to a stop right in front of the team's reserved booth. Bruce had only come for all of an hour of the night, but Clint and Tony had left about thirty minutes prior to Steve's arrival, leaving your well-being in Natasha, Bucky, and Sam's hands.
Steve looks over you and Nat; you're laid down on the long, cushioned seat with your head resting on her lap. Her jacket is slung over your lower half to cover your exposed legs from your dress rising up on your thighs. You're looking up at her adoringly, reaching up to twirl strands of her hair between your fingers as you mumble about how pretty her hair is.
"That answer your question?" Sam whispers, chuckling slightly.
Another sigh falls from Steve's lips, and although his heart aches, he has to stop himself from cracking a smile. "That it does."
He steps closer to the booth, taking in the sight of you with softened eyes. Typically, you never let yourself get this drunk, not in the public eye at least. Even though it's clear you've had more than a bit too much to drink, the sight is endearing.
Nat directs her attention from you and up at the three men approaching the table instead. Her expression is one of amusement with a slight hint of relief as she looks down at you again. "Hey, look who's here, honey," she says softly to you.
You turn your head in her lap and let your hands fall back down, finally releasing her hair from your gentle grip. Your eyes land on Steve and you blink up at him before a wide, drunken smile spreads on your face.
"Steeeeve!" you exclaim in a slur, reaching your hand out for him. "You came!"
He crouches down next to the booth, hesitantly taking your hand into his. "Hey, doll. 'Course I came, I always will. Looks like you've had fun tonight, huh?"
You nod excitedly and your smile spreads into a grin. "Nat's hair is sooo pretty, did ya know that? 'S soft too, like a pillow," you ramble, your words somehow not coming out scrambled.
"I bet," Steve says, watching Nat brush your hair out of your face. "Let's get you home, yeah?"
"Your home?" you ask in a softer voice.
Right. His home.
"I don't..." Steve starts before falling into silent contemplation.
He looks up at Nat who's already looking back at him, her expression apologetic and soft. Then his eyes shift back down to you, and his heart clenches in his chest. Your eyelashes flutter as you blink at him, your eyes light up and twinkle in a way that they only do for him, and your lips part a little as you take slower breaths.
How could he say no to that?
"Sure, yeah, we'll go back to mine," he concedes gently, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb.
You smile again and scramble to sit upright. Nat lays a hand on your back to help keep you balanced, Steve taking your other hand in his free one to pull you up gently. When you're sat up straight, he takes Nat's jacket off your legs and helps you tug your dress back down.
He slides your phone off the table and into his pocket before throwing your arms around his neck. You take the hint to hold on as he slides one of his arms under your legs and the other behind your back.
Effortlessly, he lifts you into his arms. You clasp your hands together behind his neck and a giggle slips out of your lips- a sound that was once music to his ears which had now become one he longed to hear again.
"G'night, Nat," you say sweetly, turning your head to look at her.
Steve's body follows the direction of your head, turning towards the table so you don't strain your neck. Her eyes meet yours and she smiles at you once more.
"Goodnight, babe. Text me tomorrow, alright?" she requests before looking up at Steve and saying, "Make sure to get some water in her, we had to trick her into drinking some by watering down her tequila."
"Will do-"
Your gasp cuts Steve off effectively, her words only just now sinking in. "That wasn't tequila?!" you exclaim, your voice coming out quieter than you realize.
The three at the table laugh a little- even Steve lets out a low chuckle of his own.
"I'll let you in on a secret," Nat starts, her voice dropping to a whisper before continuing, "It was definitely tequila, but you know these guys are no fun, so we can't tell them that."
"Ohhh, right, right. I can keep a secret- you're the world's bestest adult sitter," you reply softly.
"The best, huh?" she questions with a half smirk.
When you nod, she takes a sip of her drink, placing the glass down before saying, "I'll be expecting my plaque soon then."
"You wanna say bye to Sam and Bucky?" he asks, looking over slightly to meet your eyes.
You hum in response and he walks you over a few steps to Bucky and Sam who are sitting at the other end of the table. The pair smile at you, though it's more of an amused grin on Bucky's end, and you return the gesture.
"Bye, Bucky," you say, sleep and intoxication ridden in your voice.
Bucky chuckles and rises to his feet to ruffle your hair playfully. "Bye, doll. You get some good sleep, alright?"
Your nose scrunches at the feeling of his hand in your hair. "Always good sleep when with Stevie."
Bucky sits back down, and Sam starts to speak, "Punch it in," he instructs, raising his fist up to your level.
You oblige happily, curling your hand into a fist to the best of your ability and bumping it against his. "G'bye," you slur, nuzzling your face into the crook of Steve's neck.
"Call us if you need us," Bucky says to Steve.
"Yeah, thank you for watching over her," Steve responds appreciatively, "Goodnight, be safe getting home."
"'Night," the three say collectively, smiling at him in a way that's bordering apologetic.
Steve forces a smile before turning to walk away. He makes his way through the crowd, holding you tight and protectively against his chest.
"You can go to sleep if you want, I can tell you're sleepy," he murmurs low enough for just you to hear him.
A small whimper emits from you, making a warmth spread through his body. He looks down at you adoringly before looking back up, shifting his focus back to the rather slow journey to the exit. Although some people part to make way for who they know to be Captain America himself, most of them are too drunk to care. So, Steve focuses heavily on navigating through the maze of bodies.
When he steals a glance down at you again, you're sleeping peacefully and your head has fallen back away from his neck. You must've felt him move though, because you immediately nestle your face back into his neck, and the warmth of your breath against his skin makes him shiver. The scent of the alcohol you'd been drinking lingers, but it's mixed with the familiar fragrance of your vanilla perfume, and it creates a blend that only you could pull off.
When you reach the exit, the cold, autumn night air hits both of your faces. Steve adjusts his grip on you to make sure you're comfortable and then walks to the car he ordered that dropped him off. The driver steps out, and opens the passenger side door for the two of you, allowing Steve to slide you comfortably onto the seat.
He thanks the driver as you whine at the loss of contact. You melt sleepily into his touch when he reaches in to brush your hair behind your ear to let you know he's not leaving. The bright city lights reflect in his blue eyes, and a soft, but achy, smile plays on his lips at the sight of you. Careful not to wake you or pinch your fingers, he fastens your seatbelt, making sure you're secure before closing the car door.
He walks to the other side of the car and gets in, choosing to sit by the window instead of next to you in the middle seat. As the car starts up, he can't help but look at you and admire you. The admiration quickly turns into longing, though. He takes in every part of your face, his mind plaguing itself with the memory of just over two months ago.
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"I don't think I'm right for you."
The words flow easily from your mouth like water between open fingers. Steve looks at you, utterly confused and hurt. His jaw tightens, his eyebrows furrowing as he opens his mouth to speak, only to close it again when he can't find the words.
He gets off the couch, rising to his feet and looking at you from across the room. "You want to leave, to forget everything from the last year and a half, just because you don't think you're right for me?"
The weight of your decision and his words sit heavily on your shoulders as you slouch over, putting your face in your hands for a moment. "I... I'm no good for you, Steve, and you deserve better than me... I can't be what, or who, you need."
"What are you talking about, y/n? You're perfect to me, I wouldn't trade you for anything," he explains, trying to keep his voice soft and reassuring despite the fear and irritation building up in him. "Please, tell me what I can do to make you feel better and I'll do it, I'll do anything-"
"You can't do anything!" you finally snap, your emotions being misdirected towards him. You let the warm tears that were welling up fall freely from your eyes as you continue, "There's nothing you can do, Steven, I'm not the person you need, and I never will be. Drop it, just leave it at that, and move on."
"'Leave it at that?'" Steve repeats back in bewilderment. "We have been together for almost two years and you expect me to drop all of it just like that?"
All you can muster up in response is a quiet, "I'm sorry."
He watches you stand up and sling your purse over your shoulder. Desperately, he scrambles for the right words to say to make you stay. "Baby, please, tell me what's really going on here- this cannot be it for us, I won't let it be."
Steve takes long strides towards you only for you to back away from him. For some strange reason, that small action hurt worse than any of the words that came, or could possibly come, out of your mouth. He stops dead in his tracks, trying to search your face for any sign of changing your mind. When he doesn't find it, he bites down on his tongue to save himself more heartache from the useless begging he wants to let out.
"I'm sorry, Steve. You deserve better, and you always have," you mumble, wiping the tears off your cheeks and walking quickly to the front door.
"I love you," he says, only to receive no response other than the front door slamming shut as you walk out of it.
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“You alright back there?” the driver’s voice snaps Steve out of his thoughts. “You need heat or air? Seat warmers? Anything?”
Steve shakes his head slightly, snapping himself out of it. His hand reaches over to you, and he rests the back of his hand on your forehead. “A little heat, thanks,” he says with a smile after nothing the tinge of cold your skin has.
“Of course,” the driver says with a returned smile as he turns the heat on.
As he avigates the familiar route to Steve’s apartment, with the sleepiness Steve feels, he's thankful for the fact that there's only a minute or two remaining of the drive. And on the other hand, he’s sulking about the short time left because that’s two minutes closer to you being gone by the time he wakes up.
He turns his gaze back to you, still peacefully asleep with your head resting against the window. The soft hum of the engine provides an almost calming backdrop that yet does nothing to soothe the ache that persists. Focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest always seems to soothe him though, and it still does so now.
The car comes to a stop in front of the apartment, and Steve reaches into his wallet to pull out some cash. He pulls out his keys too, to make it easier when he gets to the door. Then he hands the cash to the driver with a grateful nod before getting out of the car and making his way to your side. Gently, he opens the door, reaching up quickly to lean your head back on the headrest.
You grumble a little, and he's quick to ease you as he unbuckles your seatbelt. "Sorry, sweetheart, but we're home now."
"Home?" you murmur, still half asleep.
He carefully lifts you into his arms once more, and you instantly cling to his jacket. "Yeah... home."
The building's lobby is quiet as he enters through the automatic doors, the night shift doorman giving him a knowing smile. Steve offers nothing but a small and short nod in return, his focus solely on your drunken state. Luckily the elevator ride is short, but every second feels like an eternity to him.
The weight of your body curled up in his arms provides a comforting familiarity. It's a familiarity he soaks up though, having not seen you outside of work during the few missions you had together. In fact, you hadn't spoken to him outside of work since you left either.
Even during missions, you were short with your comments. And when you picked up your things from his apartment, of which you were actively moving into, you did it on a day when he was gone. You'd left your key under the mat and shot him a brief text letting him know. He replied, only asking how you were doing, but he got no response back.
The elevator dings, snapping him out of his thoughts again as he steps out, taking long strides until he reaches his door. He turns to the side, bending down ever so slightly to unlock the door with his keys in the hand hooked under your legs. He twists the doorknob and pushes the door open, carrying you inside with practiced ease.
The soft glow of outside city lights filters through the open windows. Paired with the dim tv, the lights cast a cool ambiance over the living room. With a deep breath, he heads straight to his room and slowly lays you down on the bed.
The bedroom is dark except for the blue and green aurora projected on the ceiling from the starlight projector you insisted he get since his room was too 'plain.' At first, the light kept him up at night because he found it too distracting, but since you'd left, he couldn't sleep without it on. After all, it was the only piece of you that you left with him other than the few shirts and undergarments.
Steve sighs deeply, taking your heels off your feet and placing them next to the bed. He covers you with your favorite blanket from the foot of his bed, and with a heart heavier than typical, he makes his way to the kitchen to fill up a cup with water. He then carries the glass back to the bedroom and sits it on the bedside table.
He takes a moment to simply watch you as he sits on the edge of the bed next to you. The soft features of your face relaxed in sleep makes him contemplate waking you up- you were always a peaceful sleeper, and he hated disturbing those few moments of peace.
Before he can attempt to wake you, you begin to stir, your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes slowly open. You blink slowly a few times, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, and then a sleepy smile forms on your face when you see Steve.
"Hey," he greets you softly, reaching over to offer you the glass of water from the nightstand.
"Thank you," you say.
It's obvious that you're still not sober as you take the glass and sit up too quickly, the sudden movement resulting in your head throbbing as you groan. "Ouch," you mumble, pressing the palm of your free hand against your forehead.
"You okay?"
"Think so," you reply, sitting up much slower than before.
The cool water soothes you a little as you take small sips of it. A contented sigh falls from your lips, your body appreciating the non-alcoholic beverage. You place the glass back onto its spot on the nightstand and then focus your attention back on Steve.
Your eyes reflect the projector's lights as your eyes rake over him for a few seconds. Slower than you realize, you raise your hand and brush it gently over his cheek in admiration. "You're like... like an angel, but a reaaally handsome one," you croon.
Steve chuckles, a mixture of amusement and genuine joy spreading across his features. "I'm flattered, but you're the angel here, honey," he says with a smile.
He captures your hand in his and brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your palm. You giggle in response, the alcohol still evident in your system, and then your happy expression fades away. You look down, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.
"I'm sorry for, uhm, causing a fuss t'night. I never meant to ruin your night..."
The look on his face becomes one closer to sympathetic as he drops your hand, now reaching over to cup your cheek. Carefully, he forces you to look at him as he speaks. "Hey, you didn't ruin anything, alright? I'll always come when you need me, and I'm just glad you're okay."
Missing the feeling of his skin on yours all too much, you lean into his touch, letting his warmth soothe you. "Thanks for...everything."
"Anytime, truly," he replies.
There's a comfortable silence that falls between you, the weight of the obvious unspoken words lingering in the air. You look up at him, trying to keep yourself awake. Steve drops his hand and tries to memorize every detail of your face. He knows that tomorrow things will go back to how they were, and he's not sure he can stomach that.
It only takes a few more beats of silence before he breaks the said silence, his voice low and gentle. "Can we talk?" he asks, his blue eyes searching yours.
You hum for a moment, taking a slow breath before saying, "Jus' for a minute, very sleepy."
"I just... I have one question, that okay?"
"Hm?"
Steve musters up the courage to speak, only breaking apart from your gaze for a second. "Could you maybe tell me why you left? Like why you really left?"
When your eyes flicker with hesitation and sadness, he starts to regret asking. The air feels heavier than it ever has, holding the weight of everything spoken and not yet said, but he breathes it all in. Right as he's about to tell you to not worry about it, you take a deep breath and smother your vulnerability with the knowledge that he deserves the truth. Slowly as to not give yourself another headache, you nod.
"S'like I told you, that was the truth, 'm not good enough. You look at me with so much love and admiration, and I know...I know I could never live up to what you think of me," you explain, drawing out each word a little more than you would if you were sober. "'M holding you back, always have been, and you deserve better."
His eyebrows furrow as he takes in your words, his gaze intense and sharp. "I look at you like that because of who you are, not because of who I think you should be," he says in an attempt to reassure you. He reaches out to take your hand in his as he continues, "You're always been more than enough, honey. I mean, hell, you're more than I deserve, and-"
"No, no, you don't get it!" you exclaim lowly, cutting him off and taking your hand out of his grip. "Y-you're perfect, you're America's golden boy, and 'm jus' me. I hate my body, my mind, an-and everything about me. Could never be good enough for you, Steve. As if I don't already hate myself enough, everyone says and sees how much more you deserve, except for you."
Steve's mind races and his heart tightens as he takes in your words. The obvious pain in your voice cuts through him like a scalding knife, the tears welling up in your eyes cutting him even deeper. He's now sure that nothing could measure up to the pain of hearing you talk about yourself in the complete opposite way of how he thinks of you.
Silence passes as he dwells on your words. Then it clicks.
"Who's been saying that?" he questions sternly.
You avoid his gaze like the plague, immediately breaking the eye contact you were holding. Physically, you can feel yourself shrink. Whether it's the guilt from your outburst, the shame from everything you've heard and thought about yourself, or the intensity of his gaze- you're not sure.
His jaw tightens in anger, but not directed at you. "Who, y/n?"
A deep and heavy sigh falls from your lips as your eyes dart around the room. "Phone," you say quietly, holding out your hand to him.
Steve looks at your outstretched hand, confusion covering the concern etched on his face briefly. He pauses for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his jeans and pulling out your phone. Placing it in your hand, he watches closely as you unlock it with shaky fingers. Your eyes scan over the screen, but it doesn't take long for you to find what you were looking for, and your expression tells it all.
You hesitate to hand the phone to him, but you do so anyway, lying down on the bed and curling up into yourself as soon as the phone touches his hands. And, not that you see it, but his eyes narrow as he reads over everything rapidly. You'd had it all saved in a little folder; every message, every media report, every post made about you.
He's not sure what's worse of the situation, to be honest. To know that you'd felt this way about yourself for God knows how long and not have said anything about it was painful, sure. However, the words written about you were downright cruel, analytical, and simply not true at all.
But the amount of things that were written and you had saved for you to read at your whim, only reaffirming whatever untrue things you thought about yourself? That was a different level of hurt that he could imagine hurt you hundreds of times worse than it does him.
Unable to stomach anymore, he places your phone face down on the nightstand. Silently, he scoots up on the bed to be closer, reaching out to place his hand on your cheek. You flinch at the contact at first, but his touch is gentle, a stark contrast to the words you've been subjected to.
"I'm so, so sorry, my sweet girl," he says softly, trying to force down tears of his own.
You take a shaky breath in and out, your voice barely above a low murmur. "Didn't want you to leave me, so I left first."
Steve's heart sinks at your admission, his thumb gently stroking your cheek to wipe away the stray tear that escaped your eye. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture that's meant to offer some kind of comfort and reassurance.
"I would've never left you, and I still won't, okay? I know you care about what they say, but I don't. Nothing could ever skew my image of you, angel, you're my definition of perfect- you don't have any image to live up to in my mind," he promises with a soft-spoken tone.
You can't find it in you to respond even though you want to, all too scared of your voice failing you. Sheer pain radiates from you to the point where it's almost suffocating. While he's more than aware that no words can take back anything you've read or heard, the simple fact that he can't undo what has already been done riddles him with guilt still.
If he could, he would take all of that ache and bear it all for you.
"When did all this start?" he inquires, waiting patiently for your answer.
"I don't know..."
"I know you do, honey, you can tell me."
"Only... Only a week after we got together, got worse after I started moving in here."
"Scoot," he instructs gently, careful to control his tone with you although he feels a deep rage.
You oblige and scoot over slowly. Almost instantly, he lays down behind you, curling up so that his body molds with yours. He brushes a few pieces of your hair back before wrapping his arm around your midsection to hold you protectively against him.
"Can I ask you one more thing?" he asks, adding on, "And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."
After thinking about it for a second, you nod. He tries to find the best way to ask what he wants to ask. Deep down he wants, but somehow already knows, the answer, yet he doesn't want to make things worse. Nor does he want it to seem like the subject is the only thing he was thinking about.
"Is…is all of this, meaning what people have said and what you think about yourself- is this why we've never, you know, done anything together?" he inquires with furrowed brows from the overwhelming amount of emotions. "I'm just asking because I never thought this would be why, I thought I was doing something wrong or you just weren't ready."
Your body tenses at his question, and you have to steady your voice before answering, "Part of it. Never felt good enough, and I didn't want you to see me like that and be disappointed."
Steve frowns, sighing lowly as he presses a gentle kiss to the back of your neck. The gesture is simple, but it effectively conveys the depth of what he feels.
"I don't care how long it takes me to convince you, but I'll spend forever trying to get you to see yourself even a fraction of the way I do if I have to," he says as his thumb traces circles on your side. "You're absolutely breathtaking, angel. Fuck anyone who says you're anything other than beautiful."
A quiet giggle slips from between your lips, unable to hold contain your momentary amusement. For the first time in a while, he smiles a real, genuine smile. "You don't know how long I've missed the sound of that pretty laugh."
"You said 'fuck,'" you tease, trying to soak in the temporary joy.
He chuckles and the sounds rumbles through his chest. "Sometimes I can be a little hypocritical, especially when it comes to protecting you."
The smile you hold fades again, and you're left with nothing but the sadness and warmth of Steve's body behind yours. "Thank you," you whisper.
Steve tightens his hold around you and presses another gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. "You don't need to thank me for telling you the truth, it's what I'm here for, and I meant every word."
The two of you lay there in silence for a while. The room stays filled only with the sounds of your delicate breathing and the occasional passing of a distant car. This time, the silence isn't agonizing though. Steve's presence makes it feel comforting, and his words make your brain go mute even if just for tonight, making the weight of the world lift just a little.
"Stevie?" you murmur, breaking the silence.
"Hmm?" he responds.
Your fingers wrap around his wrist. "Don't wanna be alone t'night," you admit.
"Then you won't be," he promises softly. "Do you want me to help you out of that dress? No pressure, of course, I was just thinking it might be more comfortable for you to sleep if you changed. I think you've still got a shirt here or you could wear one of mine, and like I said I could leave if-"
"Steve?"
"...Yes?"
"Don't think I could get out of this dress by myself right now if I wanted to, and I'd love one of your shirts."
Steve smiles at your response, relief washing over him at your comfort with him. He unwraps his arm from around you, sitting up slowly before helping you sit up. When he slides off the bed, walking over to his dresser to find a shirt, you scoot yourself slowly to the edge of the bed. Your legs dangle off the edge and your shoulders slouch as you try to keep yourself awake.
With a worn-out gray t-shirt in his hand, he walks back over to you. "Alright, sweetheart. Let me take care of you," he says.
He places the shirt on the bed and reaches behind you to unzip your dress. You allow your head to fall against his chest, trying to soak in his warmth. His movements are slow and delicate, precise too, ensuring that he doesn't cause you any discomfort.
Once the zipper is down, he leaves his hands resting on your back to help you slide off the bed. Then he slips the thin straps down your arms, allowing the dress to fall to the floor, leaving you in just your underwear.
Crystalline, icy blue eyes rake over your body for a moment as he bends down to pick up the discarded fabric. It's not a sexual ogling, and you know that; he's simply admiring you the way he has always wanted to.
Suddenly feeling bashful, you avoid his gaze. You look at anything but him or your body, opting to focus on the street lights outside the big window. He catches your slight shyness immediately and quickly tries to soothe you.
"Hey," he coos with concern written on his face, one hand resting on your waist and the other cupping your cheek, "You're perfect, angel. Are you feeling uncomfortable, do I need to step out for a minute?"
"N-no," you answer promptly and force yourself to meet his eyes. "'M jus' not used to being looked at like this."
Steve's gaze softens, clearly showing he understands the vulnerability you feel. He leans in to press a lingering kiss on your forehead. "If you let me, I'll help you get used to it- and I'll make sure you never feel unsafe or uncomfortable with me. How's that sound?"
The corners of your lips manage to quirk up into an appreciative smile. "Sounds nice, Stevie," you reply, your voice low but still audible.
Returning the same appreciative look, he picks up the t-shirt and says, "Thank you for letting me see you, and touch you, but let's get into something more comfortable for right now. You need some sleep."
You nod and raise your arms up in the air so he can slide the t-shirt onto you. It's then that you notice he'd given you the same shirt you wore the first night you ever spent the night at his place, and almost every time since then, threatening to make you cry.
The fabric is as soft against your skin as it always has been, and the scent of Steve's cologne envelops you, providing a sense of security. A warm feeling spreads through your chest at how he cares for you.
Steve takes a small step back to admire you in the shirt, and just to get another look at you. A fond smile plays on his lips as he looks you over once more. "Always has looked better on you than it does on me. Good to know it still does," he says, honesty obvious in his voice.
Again, your eyes lock with his. You search him for any sign of anything negative, coming up with nothing almost instantly. He searches you for any look or hint of discomfort, but he finds nothing other than sleepiness and adoration in your gaze.
Silence passes over the two of you like it had just mere minutes ago. The quiet environment feels even more natural and comforting than it did before, though.
He clears his throat, trying to prevent the eye contact from becoming awkward for you. "Uhm, let's get you into bed, alright?"
You step to the side so he can pull the comforter back, your hands playing with the bottom hem of the shirt. He turns to face you, and you take a wobbly step towards him, balancing yourself by placing your hands on his chest. His hand flies to your lower back to offer you more support, and you look up at him through the eyelashes of your sleepy eyes.
Slowly, tracing your way up and down his chest once, your eyes stare into him with something he'd never seen in you before. In fact, the look is so intense that it could make any man weak, he's sure of it. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly at your sudden touchiness.
"Are you feeling okay?" he asks, somehow oblivious to exactly what look it is that you're giving him.
"Mhmm," you hum, drawing out the 'hm,' with a voice laced with a soft and sleepy seduction from still being tipsy. "Y'know, 'm not thaaat tired."
"Oh? The way that you're hardly able to hold yourself up says otherwise, angel. We have all of tomorrow to talk, let me just help take care of you tonight."
A giggle slips from between your parted lips in response to his cluelessness. "S'cute when you're so sweet," you croon.
"Do you, uhm, do you need something before bed? Like an Advil maybe?"
Instead of a verbal response, you grab onto his jacket and give it a slight tug. You take a step forward, pushing him back gently to force him to sit on the bed. He looks up at you in confusion, but you don't let go of him as you slowly straddle him. With your weight being supported by your knees on the bed and his legs under you, you lean in, nuzzling your face into his neck.
"Angel, what're you-"
Your lips brush lightly under his jawline, leaving a trail of tender kisses as you gradually make your way down to under his chin.
Steve's breath hitches, and his free hand comes to rest on your waist with a delicate, but firm, grip. "O-oh," he murmurs in a sigh.
You nibble gently on his jaw. "Jus' need you," you mumble before pressing your lips to his.
He lets you kiss him, unable to resist the feeling because, well fuck, how could he?
The taste of your lips is all too familiar, and as his lips work against yours, his hands find your hips. His hold on you is secure, and it does nothing to ease the arousal building up in your stomach. You whine from the contact, and he tugs you closer, still careful to keep you steady on his lap.
His resolve weakens, and he becomes hyperaware of your vulnerable state again. So, he breaks the kiss, looking down and into your eyes.
"Y/n, I'm not sure if-" he starts, only to be interrupted by you dipping down to bite on his neck. You suck harshly on his neck as you reach down and palm him through his jeans.
A low groan emits from his chest, his voice husky when he speaks. "God, baby.”
Thoroughly enjoying the reaction he gives, you whimper against his neck. He can feel the corners of your lips turn up into a slight smile. His other hand is on the other side of your waist, gripping it firmly, as soon as you start grinding down onto his thigh. He loses himself in the moment for just a second before reminding himself of your inebriated state.
“F-Fuck,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. “Wait, wait- stop.”
You bite down once more, whining slightly before pulling away. The sensitive spot on his neck pulses, rushing with blood from the sucking and vibration. He tenses up with a mixture of both surprise and arousal at your forwardness. Then he lets both of his hands find your hips and settle on them, his hold tightening on you.
"D-did I do somethin' wrong? Did that not feel good?" you ask with a deep frown.
"No, no. That's not it, I promise; everything you've done feels amazing," Steve reassures you, quickly shutting down your negative thoughts.
Once again, he clears his throat in an attempt to regain his composure. "Angel, you're just… not in the best state right now. I won't take advantage of you, and I don't want you doing anything you might regret," he explains as he looks down to meet your gaze.
You're staring up at him with those big puppy dog eyes that you always use as an effective method to sway him. Tonight, though, is vastly different.
"C'mon, doll. Don't look at me like that. If you still want me in a few hours, when you're sober, that is, then I am all yours," he promises, trying to bargain with you.
You stick your lower lip out a little unintentionally, giving him the cutest pout he's ever seen. "Sober..." you repeat, looking away almost in shame as you add, "Promise you'll still want me then?"
Steve tilts your chin up with his finger and forces you to lock eyes with him. "I can promise you. I've never wanted anything more in my life than I want you. And that's never going to change."
Tantalizingly, he runs his thumb across your lower lip, a small smile playing on his lips. "But, I need you to be sure that this is what you want. I want you to remember every moment, not just bits and pieces of it, and know that everything we do is your choice," he says softly.
After taking a moment to process his words, you nod in understanding- noting the sincerity in his eyes. The room fills itself with an assortment of emotions, ranging everywhere from desire, uncertainty, and just a touch of venerable fragility.
Steve brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his expression one of soft neutrality. "Alright. Let's get you tucked in," he whispers, his voice a low murmur.
You let go of his jacket after he scoots back on the bed, bringing your knee from the other side of his leg and lying down. You curl yourself into a ball, and Steve's eyes never leave you as you do so. He takes a moment to appreciate the mere sight of you back in his bed, and a wave of warmth rushes through his chest. His earlier desires are still very much present, but so is the respect for the boundaries he set for your well-being.
He gets up briefly to pull the blankets over you before sitting down in the comfy chair in the corner of the room to take his shoes off. The chair you'd begged him to get as well to fill up the empty space in the room.
After sliding the boots under the chair, he makes his way to the dresser to change into some loose-fitting sweatpants. When he's about to put a shirt on, you grumble a 'no,' that catches his attention and makes him turn to face you.
"No?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow up questioningly.
"Nuh-uh," you respond with a shake of your head.
He chuckles lightly. "Why not?"
"Warmer without it, not a bad sight either," you say softly, following it up with a yawn.
Steve smirks in appreciation of your usual playfulness. "If you insist," he concedes, deciding to forgo the shirt. He slips the shirt back into the drawer and walks back over to the bed.
He settles himself in beside you and lifts his arm up, allowing you to scoot into his side and rest your head on his chest. Happily, you hum, soaking up his warmth and focusing on his steady heartbeat. He then reaches down with his free hand to pull the blanket over himself.
"Uncomfortable?" you murmur, sleep laced in your voice.
"No, I'll be alright as long as you're comfortable."
A second passes by before you speak again. "Thank you."
"For what, angel?"
"For being so...you."
You feel Steve's chest rise and fall with a deep, contented sigh. His fingers trace slow circles on your back through your shirt. "Always," he whispers, his soft voice lulling you even closer to sleep.
The room stays wrapped in a soothing silence, the only sounds heard being the quiet breaths from both of you. As you lay there trying to sleep, you can't help but marvel at the man beside you. Everything about him is truly perfect, from his basic concern for your well-being to the way he has always taken care of you.
Your eyes begin to feel heavy, slowly shutting fully as you find yourself on the brink of slumber. Just before you succumb to sleep, you muster up the energy to mumble, "Steve?"
"Hmm?" he responds, his chest rumbling under your cheek.
"'M glad it's you."
"Wouldn't trade you for anything, sweetheart," he murmurs, placing a kiss on the top of your head. "And, for the record, I'm glad it's you too."
Steve continues to run his fingers over your back as you fall asleep. His fingers create a rhythmic pattern that mirrors the peaceful in and out of your breathing, only making your rest more soothing. He looks down at you and smiles to himself, reveling in the sheer joy of having you back, even if it's only for tonight.
Often the weight of his responsibilities feels too heavy to bear, but with you, there's a sense of solace that transcends the chaos of the outside world. Everything about you and your presence is a sanctuary. It's all a nice reminder that, after everything he does for everyone else, he's worthy of a little tranquility at the end of the day too.
Steve presses another gentle kiss into your hair before closing his eyes, savoring the sweet moment. "Goodnight, angel."
He hears your tired, softly grumbled response before he falls asleep. Though he tries not to let himself get too wrapped up in the moment, too used to your presence again, he does anyway. If there is anything he wants for the rest of his life, it's you next to him.
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taglist!
@pigeonmama @rogersbarber @buckysprettybaby
if you'd like to be to my general taglist, feel free to ask or visit my taglist form to be tagged in more specific fics :)
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literaryavenger · 18 days
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Steve, seeing Y/N babying Bucky: What happened??
Y/N, putting a bandaid on Bucky’s finger: Bucky got a paper cut.
Steve, rolling his eyes: Seriously? Yesterday Sam was screaming "I've been stabbed!" and all you did was yell "shut up!"
Y/N, after kissing Bucky’s boo-boo: That's because he was screaming "I think I've been stabbed!" Bitch, you're either stabbed or you aren't!
Steve:
Y/N:
Steve:
Natasha, sitting next to them while casually eating cereal: She's right.
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science-hoes · 1 year
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I don’t want to hear “Oh I’m sorry you had a bad day, here are some flowers”
I want to hear “Oh I’m sorry you had a bad day, here’s a new x reader fic with your comfort character”
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unabashedcandymaker · 6 months
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Uncertain Masterlist
When you find yourself unexpectedly pregnant, your future with your partners starts to feel uncertain
Natasha x Reader x Bucky
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Chapter 1
When you find yourself unexpectedly pregnant, your future with your partners starts to feel uncertain
Chapter 2
Pregnancy progresses, and while your relationship stays strong in the beginning, the dynamics start as the pregnancy progresses.
Chapter 3
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nastybuckybarnes · 1 year
Text
Comfortable
Pairing: Bucky X Reader
Summary: Bucky finds out that you’ve never climaxed during intimacy and he’s not happy about that.
Warnings: Smut, Crying during sex, Overstimulation (mental and physical), Language, Fluff, Minor Angst but not really
Word Count: 2.8K
A/n: Kinda based on life but without bucky coming in and setting things straight lol. I’ve also got the first like 5 parts of a new series written, so that’ll be coming soon hehe. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, and I love you all very much! 
~*~
“I don’t know, Nat, I just... I guess I’m just never... I don’t know. I’m in my head a lot, I guess.”
The redhead snickers, elbowing her sister and sharing a look with her before both of their gazes return to yours.
“Barnes lacking?”
You shake your head quickly, trying to clear his name.
“No! No, God no! He just... it’s not him, it’s me. I think too much, I’m focused on making sure it’s good for him, making sure he finishes that I... I don’t know.”
Yelena purses her lips, “does he know he hasn’t made you cum yet?”
You swallow hard and shake your head, dropping your gaze to your lap.
“I... I fake it.”
The assassins exchange glances again and you huff a sigh.
“He’s good, he’s really good and he makes me feel good and I get close but... I just can’t... I can’t cum. And it’s not like it’s just him, I’ve never cum with anybody I’ve been with. I just... can’t do it. Maybe I’m broken,” you whisper that last part mostly to yourself, but both women jump in and shake their heads.
“It’s an intimate thing. You probably just want to feel one hundred percent comfortable with the person before giving that last bit of yourself to them. Orgasming with a partner for the first time is... intense. You should talk to him about it, tell him the truth and explain it. Maybe you guys need more foreplay, maybe you need to be in control more, but you’ll only figure it out by talking to him about it.”
You bite your bottom lip and shake your head at Natasha, “I don’t wanna hurt his feelings though, Nat. I just... how the hell do I gently tell him that he hasn’t made me cum and I've been faking it the whole time?”
Two sets of trained eyes dart over your shoulder just as you hear the door to your apartment shut.
Tension pulls your shoulders up and you squeeze your eyes shut, praying that he didn’t hear you.
The way the two Russians in front of you press their lips into thin lines gives you your answer, and you drop your head forward, hating the fact that this is now a conversation you need to have with your boyfriend.
“Well uh, I think we should take that as our cue to leave,” Yelena says awkwardly, pressing on a smile and offering Bucky a small wave as she rises to her feet, Natasha following after.
You stay rooted in place on the couch, refusing to even acknowledge his presence as he putters about in the kitchen, waiting until your friends leave before finally making his way into the living room.
Your eyes don’t leave your hands as he takes a seat on the floor in front of you, his hands, one cold and one warm, finding yours and squeezing gently.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to take deep breaths.
If you were to look at him, you’d see that his face is confused, not angry. Not a hint of anger could be found within him. If anything, he’s upset that you hadn’t told him before. That you didn’t feel comfortable confiding in him and telling him the truth.
The entire time he was under the impression that you were enjoying the sex and getting just as much out of it as he was.
“Why are you apologizing, sweet girl?”
You sniffle and shake your head, fear icing your veins.
You don’t want him to be mad at you and you don’t want him to feel offended.
“I just... I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head and reaches one hand up to cup your jaw, raising your head enough so that you finally, finally look into his eyes.
Your beautiful eyes are filled with tears and it makes his heart ache in his chest.
“Why the tears, honey, what’s wrong?”
You shake your head and sniffle, dropping your gaze only to raise it when he squeezes your chin.
“C’mon, sweet girl, you can talk to me. I... I don’t want you to ever be afraid to talk to me, okay? What’s got you so upset?”
You take a deep breath and squeeze his hand, trying to muster up your courage.
“I just... I don’t want to make you mad.”
He furrows his brows and shakes his head, absolutely flabbergasted at the fact that you think he’d be mad at you for being honest.
“Why would I ever be mad, baby? If you’re upset, I wanna know what I can do to make you feel better.”
You take another deep breath then slowly nod.
“I just... I know that sex is a sensitive topic for a lot of guys. Especially... their performance. And yours is great! The sex is great and I love it and you’re amazing! I just... I haven’t... ya’know. I never have with anyone else either. I’m starting to think that I can only do it by myself,” you whisper glumly, your shoulders sinking in.
Bucky is quiet for a moment. He’d already heard every word you’d spoken to Natasha and Yelena, and, he’s not gonna lie, it punches at his pride to know that his girl isn't enjoying it as much as he is. All he wants is for you to feel your best in every aspect of life.
“Well, why don’t we talk about this a bit more, huh? You said that it’s not just me, but everyone you’ve been with?”
He knows this isn’t about him, it’s about you, but he really hopes that you’re not trying to soften the blow. If other people have made you cum, he wants to know how and when and then he wants to cut their fingers off for ever touching you.
You nod, sniffling. “Yeah, I just... I don’t know if I get in my head too much or if I’m... not comfortable enough, but I just... I can’t.”
He nods slowly, trying to gather his thoughts and figure out a solution.
“What can I do to make you more comfortable, honey?”
You shake your head and push to your feet, hating every word of this conversation.
“I am comfortable with you, Buck. I just... forget I said anything, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
His long fingers wind around your wrist, stopping you from fleeing like you so desperately want to.
“It does matter, honey. It matters a lot, actually. I’m not mad and I’m not offended. I just... I want you to feel the same intimacy that I feel when we have sex. It’s... amazing. And I want you to experience it. So tell me how I can make you feel better.”
Your glossy eyes raise to his and, when you see nothing but honesty and love, you nod slowly.
“I don’t know what’s missing or what needs to happen. You’ve got me really close, but I just.. maybe I think about it too much? I don’t know.”
He cups your cheeks and presses the softest kiss to your forehead.
“You’re gonna need to direct me, baby. Next time, you’re gonna need to tell me what you like, what feels good, okay? And when you get close, you tell me and I’m gonna keep going until you actually cum, is that all right?”
You nod again.
“Okay.”
He kisses your lips gently then pulls you into a tight embrace.
“Okay.”
~*~
The next time the opportunity to be intimate arises, it’s after a small get-together at Yelena’s place.
You’ve already had a sizeable glass of wine, and now all you want is your boyfriend’s hands on your body.
He pushes open the door to your shared apartment, a grin on his lips as you pepper kisses along his jawline.
“Hey, sweetheart. You want something? Hmm?”
You nod, lips not leaving his skin as you push his jacket off of his shoulders.
“C’mere.” His metal arm dips beneath your thighs, hoisting you up, while his flesh arm wraps around your waist, keeping you held tightly against his chest as you wrap your legs around him.
He leads the two of you through the apartment and into the bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed and pulling away to pull his shirt off.
You shimmy out of your dress and toss it to the ground, leaving you only in your matching black lace set.
Bucky’s eyes devour your figure and he’s quick to shed his pants and join you on the bed, crawling between your legs and smoothing his hands over your thighs.
“How you feelin’, pretty girl? You okay?”
You nod, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as he looks at you like you’re the only woman on the planet.
And to him, you might as well be.
“You gonna let me eat you out, baby? Please?”
How could you possibly say no to that?
When you nod at him, he grins, beyond pleased, and slides his fingers beneath the fabric on your hips.
He pulls your panties down your legs and brings them up to his face, holding your gaze while taking a deep breath through his nose.
“Fuck, you smell good. Taste even better, though.” And with that, he situates himself between your thighs and flattens his tongue against you, licking you from your dripping hole up to your throbbing clit.
You sigh happily, fingers tangling through his hair as he works his tongue over your clit and dips two fingers into your heat.
“Just like that...” you whisper, your head digging into the pillows as he plays you like a fiddle.
He continues fucking his fingers into you, pausing when you give a particularly hard tug on his hair then repeating exactly what made you do that.
You can feel it slowly building, each pass of his tongue and thrust of his fingers brings you slightly closer, and you can’t help but feel your heart begin to race.
“Fuck... just like that, Bucky...”
He follows your instructions perfectly, doing exactly what makes you feel good.
He watches your face scrunch, feels your heels dig into his back and your nails scratch at his scalp and - Goddamn is this what he was missing out on? This is what you look like when you’re really about to cum?
It takes all of his self-control to not grab his phone and take a picture of you.
Your chest rises and falls more rapidly and your eyes are squeezed shut as your walls start fluttering around his fingers.
Fuck, you look gorgeous.
It’s such a strange feeling, having him bring you closer and closer to the edge. It’s so foreign yet so right and you tug at his hair and roll your hips up to his face.
“Bucky, I... I’m gonna.... oh fuck, please... I’m gonna cum, please!”
God, hearing that is like music to his ears.
He continues, bringing his free hand up to yours when you reach for it.
You interlock your fingers and grind your teeth together as your release washes over you, far more intense than anything you’ve ever been able to bring yourself.
A sound that’s half-moan half-gasp falls from your lips and you squeeze his hand harder while your walls clamp down around his fingers.
Bliss fills you, sparks flying from every nerve in your body, head to toe, and Bucky watches in awe.
He’s not sure how he believed you before when you were faking. The way you look when you cum is something he’s never going to be able to forget now.
Your body is wound so tight, your thighs clenched around his head and your nails digging into his scalp. Your walls are pulsing and clenching and, fuck, it feels incredible. He can’t wait to feel it around his cock.
He continues slowly fucking his fingers in and out of you while working his tongue over your clit, only pulling away when you tug your hips back.
He smacks his lips together and pulls away, his eyes connecting with yours.
Your chest heaves and your forehead has a light sheen of sweat on it, and you look like the Goddess you are.
“How you feel, baby?” He asks gently, smoothing his hands up your sides and rubbing his thumbs over the soft skin of your stomach.
You only nod at him, your hands coming to rest on his wrists.
“Words, baby. I need words.”
You lick your lips and take a deep breath before speaking.
“I feel good, Buck. I-I feel really good,” you whisper, eyes prickling with tears at the intensity of the moment.
He smiles lovingly down at you and leans in for a gentle kiss.
You taste yourself on his tongue and it makes the moment even more erotic.
“Gonna let me fuck you, baby?” He asks against your mouth, trailing his lips down your neck and kissing your skin gently.
You nod, sighing softly as tears trail back into your hairline.
He pulls back for a moment, just long enough to situate himself comfortably between your thighs and align himself with your entrance.
And then he’s pushing into you slowly, making you feel every single inch of it.
Your mouth drops open and your legs wind around his hips, pulling him even deeper than before. He’s pressing against every sensitive spot inside you and it feels heavenly.
“Fuck, you feel good, baby. Feel so good... God... nice n’ tight... wet... shit you’re like heaven.” He rasps the words against your throat, lips trailing up over your skin to rest on yours for a quick moment before he pulls back to gaze into your eyes.
“I love you, pretty girl. I really do.”
Your heart swells and you lean up to kiss him, gasping against his lips when he pulls his hips back and slams them forward.
He starts a steady pace, smoothing one of his hands over yours and interlocking your fingers.
“I wanna feel you cum for me again. Wanna feel it on my cock, baby. God, you look so pretty when you cum. Wanna take a picture of it and frame it, I swear.”
You squeeze your eyes shut and whine softly, arching your back and groaning when he hits deeper inside of you at the new angle.
“Right there... oh fuck, please...”
He buries his head in your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses while his free hand travels between your bodies to find your clit.
He circles the bundle of nerves with expert precision, lifting his lips to yours to swallow your moans.
You’re barely kissing. No, it’s more of just breathing each other’s breaths and moaning in each other’s mouths, but the intimacy is unmatched and the passion is flaming through your soul.
You wind your free arm around his shoulders, pulling him down to press more of his weight against you, and you can’t help but feel more secure and more comfortable.
“I... Bucky... I’m gonna... oh fuck.”
He nods, showering your face in kisses.
“Cum for me, honey. C’mon, please. I wanna feel you cum on my cock.”
You can’t very well deny him when he’s asking you so nicely.
His fingers move against your clit faster and faster while his hips continue grinding into yours firmly, making your toes curl and your back arch further.
Your chest presses against his and you rake your nails against his back so hard you're sure you’re drawing blood, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.
Not when you’re falling headfirst into the most intense and powerful climax of your life.
Your vision goes white and your ears start to ring, and all you can do is squeeze around him.
Your legs tighten around his waist, your nails dig into his flesh, and your walls clamp down around his cock as fireworks erupt in your belly.
Bucky fucks you through it, keeping his pace steady as you tremble and convulse beneath him, your mouth open as soft whines fall from it.
God, the feeling of you, all hot and tight and wet around him... he’s ready to die happily now that he’s gotten to truly experience the glory that is having you cum around him.
His pride swells and he can't help the way his ego inflates when he pulls his head back to look at your pretty face.
He did that.
He made you feel that good.
He’s the only man, no, the only person in the world besides yourself that’s ever made you cum. And he’s going to be the only one.
And now that he knows how to do it, now that he's gotten you there with his mouth and his cock, he’s never going to get enough of it. He’s gotta make up for lost time, doesn't he?
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littleseasiren · 8 months
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Hypothetically speaking
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Summary: Hypothetically speaking, Bucky Barnes is the perfect man. You have a list that proves it. What happens when someone overhears you telling Natasha about it?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader
Warnings: None, just fluff
Words: A drabble at 800 words
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"All I'm saying is, hypothetically, Bucky is the perfect boyfriend," you whisper to Natasha over the kitchen table. 
"And why do you think that?"  Her green eyes stare past you, making you nervous for a second before her gaze meets yours. "Hypothetically speaking, of course." Natasha knew how you felt about Bucky but humoured you nonetheless.
You don't hear anything so you continue, "Well, I mean, he's the full package. Just look at what he's like," you chuckle. You lift your thumb as you start counting the points. "He's handsome with his dark hair and his eyes to die for." Your index finger goes up, "He's quiet but authoritative, like the time he saw a guy bothering me at the bar. He didn't hesitate before threatening him with bodily harm if he didn't stop bothering not just me - but all the ladies in the bar." Your middle finger rises, "He's got muscles galore like we've seen when he and Steve burn off extra energy in the gym and take their shirts off." Your ring finger raises, "And he's kind - too kind sometimes. Remember I told you about that time we were stuck in the rain in the middle of nowhere on a mission? He gave me his jacket and stood freezing in the pouring rain for more than an hour while we waited for our pickup." Finally, your pinkie raises, "Then there's the vibranium arm," you say as you drop your hand, your eyes sparkling with excitement.
Natasha smirks at the look that crosses your face when you talk about Bucky's prosthetic arm. "What about his arm? Most people would think it's a bad thing."
"Huh, as if! If they think that, then they're stupid. His arm is amazing. The black and gold design makes him look like a masterpiece painting. If I were an artist, I could spend hours watching him, getting every shadow and groove perfectly immortalized on the canvas." You giggle softly before continuing, "He's super strong - even stronger than Steve is, with that arm. He has amazing coordination and precision, and the temperature difference between his human hand and his vibranium hand is awesome. On a hot day, you can hold his left hand without sweating like crazy, and on a cold day, his right hand will be nice and toasty. But the biggest thing?" You take a deep breath, "His arm is vibranium, so I'm 100% sure his arm won't fall asleep like a normal man's when spooning with him in bed. A woman can lie on that arm for hours - I'm sure Bucky won't move an inch. That's the type of man he is..." A dreamy look passes over your face as you imagine yourself in that situation.
A perfect eyebrow raises in question, "Honey, why don't you just tell him you like him?" 
"What? No, I don't! I was speaking hypothetically!" You aren't like Natasha, you can't just walk up to Bucky and confidently tell him you like him. Just thinking about it makes you anxious.
Natasha's smile is huge as a shadow hovers over you, making you feel like your heart is beating out of your chest.
Please, please don't let someone be behind me.
"Hypothetically speaking," a deep, confident voice starts behind you, making you drop your head into your hands, "if I do my best to live up to your expectations, would you go out with me tonight?"
You slowly raise your head, seeing Natasha leave the kitchen quietly and Bucky take her spot opposite you.
Why can't I keep my big mouth shut?
You can't meet his eyes, your cheeks burning with humiliation as your eyes focus on your wiggling hands. "Uh, Bucky, how much did you hear?" 
This time, Bucky's voice is softer, unsure. "Pretty much everything. I know I shouldn't have listened; I couldn't help myself. Not when I heard your hypothetical. How about it, doll? Do you want to go out with me on a date?"
"Bucky, you don't have to do that just because I embarrassed myself. You don't want to go out with me."
You slowly meet his blue eyes, a smirk plastered on his handsome face. "Of course, I want to, doll. I honestly just never thought you would want to go out with me. You're so sweet and beautiful. I just never thought someone like you would be interested in me. Not with all my baggage." His gaze becomes nervous at your hesitation. "If you give me a chance, I promise I'll do my best not to disappoint you."
Can he be any sweeter? "You could never disappoint me, Bucky. You're amazing." 
His face lights up at your honest reply. "So, how about it, doll? Let me take you out on a date. If you play your cards right, I'll let you test your theory on my arm tonight. I promise I won't move an inch if I get to hold you all night long. I won't even cop a feel tonight; I'll be a perfect gentleman, I promise." 
You can't stop from giggling, feeling mischievous. You weren't making stupid promises like that, something he might figure out soon if all goes well. "It's a deal, Sarge," you reply as you grasp his hands, shivering from the hot and cold sensation. 
This is going to be fun. 
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ginnsbaker · 7 months
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Summary: As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy. And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her // …or the one where you find Wanda in the crowd during your band's gig, only to discover there's much more to her than you initially thought.
Word count: 5.2K+ | Tags: Smut (18+), Fluff, Oral and fingering (W receiving), Squirting, Overstimulation, Meet-cute, Drummer!Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Requested by anon. I got carried a way for a bit and took a few liberties. Hope you like it!
-
You almost didn’t make it for tonight’s gig. 
Still recovering from the flu you caught last week, you were close to letting Kate fill in on the drums. That is, until Yelena begged you not to let her girlfriend botch a sold-out evening.
The tension backstage is thicker than Bucky’s pre-show smoothie, and, given the mishmash of green ingredients, that's saying something.
“I'm just saying, letting Kate drum tonight is like giving a cat a keyboard and expecting Bonham,” Yelena says, gesturing wildly with her hands.
“Continue talking and you might not have a girlfriend by the end of your next sentence!” Kate huffs, spinning on her heel to stomp out of the area. 
You sip on your water, trying to keep your hydration levels up but also stifle a chuckle. This isn’t the first time Yelena’s protective streak has clashed with Kate's overenthusiastic approach to... well, everything. Natasha is trying, and failing, to keep a straight face, while Bucky seems to have found sudden interest in the intricate patterns on his boots. 
Your head is throbbing, the remnants of the flu still gnawing at your energy, but you've mustered up just enough strength to make it through tonight's set. Before Yelena or any other band member can comment further, the organizer gestures for your band to take the stage.
You take a deep breath, followed by another swig of water. It's almost showtime, and the excitement is seeping through the nerves, reminding you why you endure the endless rehearsals, sleepless nights, and yes, even the pre-show squabbles.
As you step onto the stage, the applause is deafening. The lights illuminate the sea of faces before you, and you can see the familiar glint of excitement in the eyes of returning fans mixed with the curious expressions of first-timers.
Bucky approaches the mic, flashing his signature charming smile at the crowd. “Good evening, everyone! We’re ecstatic to see so many familiar faces and new ones too! We've got a great set for you tonight, but before we start, let's give a big shoutout to Y/N here, who's powering through the flu to be with us tonight!” The crowd roars in appreciation, and you can't help but wave sheepishly, a tentative smile stretching across your face.
Natasha strums the opening chords of the first song, her fingers dancing effortlessly over the strings. Yelena, momentarily forgetting her earlier spat with Kate, loses herself in the rhythm, the bassline syncing perfectly with your drumbeat. The music flows, each note hitting the right spots, the synergy between band members mesmerizing the audience.
As your sticks fly across the drums, your eyes momentarily scan the crowd, taking in the faces, the movements, the ecstatic energy.
And then, in the flickering club lights, you spot her.
There's a brunette, her hair cascading down, dancing like she was born for this exact moment. The way she sways and lets loose to the rhythm—it's captivating.
But it's when she turns around that your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. Her eyes meet yours, and the world seems to slow down for a moment. Those intense, deep-set eyes pull you in, making it impossible to look away. They're filled with an emotion that's hard to pinpoint: intrigue, curiosity, maybe even a hint of challenge. The message is clear—she's noticed you, just as much as you've noticed her. 
She doesn't break the gaze, and as her hips move in tune with your beats, there's a silent communication happening. Your hands, despite the rising temperature of the room, feel cold against the drumsticks. It's a battle to maintain your rhythm and not lose yourself under her spell.
Natasha, catching the look on your face, leans in during a brief instrumental break. “You good?”
“Yeah,” you reply, attempting to refocus. Your distraction had almost caused you to miss a beat or two. 
Your eyes are locked onto the brunette once more as she starts grinding against her friend, her movements confident, sultry, and unapologetically magnetic. It's the sort of dancing that would have any person within the perimeter drooling on the spot. Usually, you'd shy away from openly watching someone move so suggestively, but you find yourself completely mesmerized.
As the next song kicks off, you throw in some extra flash on the drums, just to see if she'll play along. And sure enough, with every fancy beat you drop, she dances right to it. It's like you're both in this unspoken challenge, seeing who can outdo the other. Your fingers grip the drumsticks tighter, and you can feel the heat rising on your face.
That's when Natasha glances in the same direction and catches on. “Well, well, looks like someone's got a fan,” she murmurs with a wink, her voice barely audible over the booming speakers.
You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but the dryness in your mouth betrays your nonchalance. “Just playing my part,” you quip, though you're keenly aware that your concentration tonight is split between the drums and the mesmerizing dancer.
Yelena, following the exchange between you and Natasha, leans in from the bass guitar, raising an eyebrow. “Who's got you all hot and bothered?”
“Shut up, Yel,” you retort. With cheeks aflame, you try to shove Yelena’s teasing aside, to focus solely on the music coursing through your veins. However, the allure of the brunette is a magnet you can’t seem to resist.
As the beat picks up, so does the pace of your heart, hammering against your chest with every enthralling movement she makes. She is intoxicating, and you’re utterly spellbound.
During the bridge, you hit a sour note—a misstep that rarely happens—and Bucky gives you a dirty look from across the stage. He’s a perfectionist when it comes to the music, and you mouth a silent “sorry” before forcing your eyes away from the captivating sight in the crowd.
But not before catching her reaction.
She's laughing, her eyes alight with impishness, and you'd swear she's looking right at you. There's a knowing smile on her lips that suggests she knows exactly the effect she’s had on you. It’s both mortifying and exhilarating.
You try to keep to the side, hiding behind cymbals and drums, but it's impossible to shake the sensation of being observed. It's like she's got a spotlight aimed right at you, and you're center stage. Every moment you resist looking her way feels like an eternity, but every time you feel the pull to glance in her direction, Yelena’s earlier tease flares in your mind, keeping your eyes stubbornly on Bucky’s flashy shoes.
As the last song fades and the applause rolls in, you set down your drumsticks, nerves and excitement warring within you. You don't hang around for Bucky's wrap-up speech. Instead, you hustle to get backstage.
-
To everyone's shock, you decide to stick around after the gig. You're usually the most introverted one in the group and never do this.
Natasha sidles up to you, a teasing smirk on her lips. “So, about that girl you couldn't take your eyes off of...?”
You attempt to play it cool, but your nervous fidgeting with your drumsticks gives you away. “What girl?” you ask, feigning ignorance.
Bucky snorts in amusement, a wicked grin stretching across his face. “The one you were practically eye-fucking the entire set? Thought you were gonna jump off stage and grab her right there.”
You're now the shade of a ripe tomato, desperately searching for a diversion. “You guys are seeing things,” you mumble, avoiding their amused gazes.
“Honestly, I was half-expecting her to throw a bra onstage or something, the way you were gawking,” Yelena chirps in.
“Enough,” you protest weakly, your voice drowned out by the laughter of your bandmates.
Just as you're about to slip away to the bar for a breather, a waiter approaches you with a drink in hand. “Compliments of the lady over there,” he says, nodding towards a dim corner of the club.
You peer in the direction he's indicating but can't make out who it's from. The drink looks fancy, possibly alcoholic. Glancing at the waiter, you inform him, “I can't drink alcohol right now, but thank you.”
Natasha snatches it from the tray. “Well, if you're not taking it, it's mine.”
Bucky laughs. “Is everyone in this club trying to woo our drummer tonight?”
You roll your eyes at them, trying not to dwell on the mystery woman. However, it's not long before the same waiter returns, this time holding a simple glass of lemonade. “The lady noticed you weren’t drinking the cocktails and thought you might prefer this.”
Your curiosity almost gets the better of you, but the memories of the striking brunette dancing to your beats earlier still linger fresh in your mind. You opt not to scour the club's corners to spot who's sending the drinks. Instead, you lift the lemonade in a thankful gesture, aiming it in the general direction of where the waiter had pointed, and offer a polite, appreciative smile into the dim.
Natasha teases, “Playing hard to get, huh?”
You shrug and take a sip from your drink. “Just soaking in the night and the rewards of our hard work,” you remark, patting the pocket where you tucked away the cash from tonight's gig. “Isn't that what we're here for?”
-
An hour later, the club's neon and strobe lights continue to play tricks on your eyes, turning every brunette head you spot into a potential sighting. Each time, however, it’s not her.
Bucky's animated conversation about a new track he's been working on fades into the background. Natasha keeps throwing you knowing glances, but doesn't press. It's Yelena who finally comments, probably having had enough of your desolate puppy-dog look. She nudges you with her elbow, Kate giggling drunkenly by her side. Yelena's arm is protectively around Kate, but her sharp gaze is all on you.
“You know, you won't find her by just sulking here and gazing at every brunette that walks past. You gotta move,” she challenges, her tone equal parts bored and encouraging.
Kate, in her slightly inebriated state, adds with a giggle, “Yeah, go get her, tiger!”
“It's not that easy, you know,” you sigh, brooding over your drink. “Plus, what if she's not even interested?”
Yelena's smirk is almost predatory. “From what I saw? Trust me, she's interested. Now go.”
With a resigned sigh, you push yourself up from the booth. Steeling yourself, you start weaving your way through the crowd, using your slightly sober advantage to maneuver past intoxicated dancers. You scan every corner and table as you walk past, even though there's a nagging feeling in your gut that she might have already left the club.
It’s after what feels like an eternity that you spot a familiar cascade of brunette locks by the bar. She’s engaged in what appears to be an animated conversation with a tall, equally striking man. However, her posture—shoulders slightly hunched, eyes darting around—suggests that she’s far from comfortable.
The protective instinct kicks in before you can talk yourself out of it. Closing the distance, you position yourself between her and the persistent guy, offering her a way out. “Hey there,” you say, smoothly, your voice loud enough to be heard over the clamor. “I've been looking for you. Sorry I'm late.”
She catches on immediately, her relief evident as she steps closer to you, away from the guy. “There you are! I was starting to worry,” she plays along, giving you a swift kiss on the cheeks that has your eyes widening for a second and breaking character. Thankfully, the guy doesn’t notice your blunder, and sensing he's lost this battle, scowls and retreats into the crowd.
Turning to her, you can't help the grin that finds its way to your face. “Sorry for that, I wanted to help, but I didn’t also want to cause any trouble.”
She smiles back, her eyes gleaming in the club lights. “Thank you for the save. I was about to resort to more drastic measures.”
The banter between you flows naturally, the awkward ice broken by the unusual circumstance of your first interaction. “I'm Y/N,” you offer, extending a hand.
“Wanda,” she says, taking your hand. Her grip is firm and her hand warm against yours. It sends a jolt of electricity up your arm. Only now do you notice her eyes, the shade of green in them, and the way they reveal so much yet nothing at all. Just like that, you fall a little deeper into her trap.
“Wanda,” you repeat, tasting the name on your tongue as if trying it out. Your smile broadens instinctively, and she catches it, her nose scrunching up bashfully.
“What?” she asks.
“Oh, nothing,” you chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “I just think it's a beautiful name. Fits someone as beautiful as you.”
She blushes, and you can't help but inwardly high five yourself for making her smile like that. She looks away for a moment, trying to hide her smile but fails miserably, and you find it endearing.
“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her eyes meeting yours once more, a shy smile on her lips.
The night unfolds seamlessly from there. You find a quiet corner away from the crowd, where the music is a distant thump, allowing conversation to flow freely.
“So, when did you start drumming?” Wanda asks, leaning in a bit, genuinely seeming interested in your answer. You try your best to stay calm as you feel the heat radiate from her body.
“Believe it or not, I started a bit late, around twelve,” you reply, smiling at the memory of your younger self, awkwardly trying to grasp the drumsticks. “But I played the guitar first, picked it up when I was just five.”
Her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wow, so you're a multi-instrumentalist?”
You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, but can't help the proud grin that creeps onto your face. “Something like that. But I mainly stick to drums in the band.”
She tilts her head, her eyes shining with interest. “Why don't you play the guitar for the band then?”
“Natasha's better than me on the guitar. She's got this incredible flair and finesse. I mean, I'm good, but she's... amazing.”
Wanda nods, absorbing the information, “I've heard her play, she really is. But I'm sure you're just as great.”
You laugh, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Then, taking a sip of your drink, you add, “Playing the guitar actually helps a lot when I'm writing our songs.”
“Wait, you write the songs?”
“Most of them,” you confirm, trying to sound as modest as you can be. “It's a collaborative effort, of course. But yeah, having a knowledge of multiple instruments, especially the guitar, helps lay the foundation for many of our tracks.”
Wanda looks at you, clearly impressed. “That's incredible, Y/N. No wonder your music feels so... personal. It's like you're telling a story with every song.”
“You’ve listened to our songs before?” you ask, mildly surprised.
Wanda nods sheepishly, as if caught harboring a guilty secret. “I might have, a few times... I definitely came here tonight to see you guys perform.” 
She then places a hand on your knee, and all at once, your throat feels parched. She scoots closer to you, to speak directly into your ear. “I wish I could see you play the guitar for me.”
You swallow hard. Her suggestion has certainly crossed your mind several times throughout the conversation. “Actually,” you begin, trying to steady your voice, “we keep our instruments in the back of the van. If you're interested, I could... play something for you?”
Wanda pulls back slightly to meet your eyes, looking like she wasn’t expecting you to actually agree to give her a private performance. “Really? Now?”
You nod, then stand and extend your hand to her, grinning. “Ready for a show?”
-
This isn’t exactly the kind of show you had in mind when you led Wanda to the back of the van. But you’re just twenty seconds into the new song you’ve been working on when she grabs your face with both hands and draws you in for a ferocious kiss. It’s a kiss that you haven’t tasted in a while—completely unrestrained.
You're lucky the drum set hasn't been loaded up yet, and with Bucky's keyboard being used by the current band onstage, there's just the right amount of space. Taking advantage, you push Wanda onto her back without breaking away from the kiss.
You pull away just enough to ask, “Are you sure?” while Wanda starts to slide your jacket down your arms.
Wanda nods impatiently, tracing her tongue along the underside of your chin, clearly enjoying the reaction she provokes.
“Was that a yes?” you prod, sitting up. Wanda sighs, albeit a bit irritably, only because you're suddenly out of her reach, before she collects herself enough to answer, “Yes, Y/N, I'm sure.”
“It's just that... I usually don’t do this,” you confess, looking down in embarrassment.
Your heart is pounding so loudly you're sure Wanda can hear it, especially with the way she's studying you intently. You can feel the heat creep up your neck, coloring your cheeks a deep shade of pink. This isn't typically your scene, and you wonder if she's regretting her decision.
But then, with a move that’s smooth and tender, Wanda slides her fingers under your chin, lifting your head to meet her gaze. Her eyes aren't filled with judgment or mockery, but with genuine understanding and something else you can't quite place.
“I find it... sexy,” she murmurs. “It’s refreshing, actually. Everything about you feels genuine. It's rare to find someone not playing games.”
Your eyes widen a fraction. That wasn't the reaction you'd been expecting.
She smirks a little at your expression, that hint of mischief returning. “Did you think admitting you're a little inexperienced would scare me off? If anything, it makes this even more exciting.”
“I'm not exactly 'inexperienced',” you argue with a bashful smile.
Her voice drops to a whisper, making your breath catch, and she inches just a bit closer. “I'm sure about this, Y/N. The back of a van might not be a romantic scene from a movie, but…” she breathes, and then she makes sure you feel every word she’s going to say next being spoken in your ear. “But right now? I swear, I might just go crazy if you don't touch me.”
Her statement stokes the fire between your legs and acting on the pull you feel, you lean in, hesitating just for a fraction of a second before capturing her lips with yours. Wanda lets out a soft, sultry moan as you deepen the kiss, your tongue boldly seeking entrance. She grants it, and you're immediately intoxicated, not just by the taste of the vodka she's been sipping on, but by Wanda herself. The way she feels, the way she responds—it's all consuming.
She tilts her head, granting you better access, and you take the opportunity to explore every inch of her mouth. The gentle tang of the alcohol is present but overshadowed by her own unique flavor, which is even more intoxicating. You can feel her hands resting on your shoulders, fingers gripping you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.
Wanda's breath hitches sharply as you confidently take charge. You yank her shirt off in one quick move, and she's laid bare under the soft street lights. Outside, some party is still in full swing, but in here, it's all about the uninhibited hunger between the two of you.
You slip your fingers to the back of her bra, fumbling just a moment before unhooking it, revealing her. Not wasting any time, you dive in, taking her nipple in your mouth, savoring it. The sensation drives her wild, and she arches her back, pushing herself deeper against you with a throaty moan.
Her fingers grip your hair, guiding and sometimes just pulling when she needs more. Every sound she makes, every pull of her fingers, gets you more revved up. It's intense, it's messy, but it's all too real.
As your hands venture lower, you notice her pupils dilate and her breathing grow uneven.
“You still sure?” you whisper, releasing her nipple with a wet pop. She responds with a desperate whine, pressing her hips closer to yours.
“Use your words, baby girl,” you murmur, nipping at her pulse point.
“Yes, yes, yes…” she answers breathlessly. “Please, Y/N.”
Your fingers playfully glide over her entrance, teasing her, “So wet for me,” you marvel, pressing a firm kiss to her neck. Your fingers dip inside her just slightly, pulling back out to further tease her.
“It's too bad I don't have my strap with me,” you groan, grinding against her thigh, letting her feel how turned on you are. “You'd look so pretty, taking it all.”
Her breathing hitches, “God, I wish you had it too.”
Wanda’s whines intensify, a sweet sound of pure desperation, as you suddenly remove your fingers from her. “Why did you—” she starts to complain, but you silence her with a searing kiss.
“I want to see all of you,” you murmur against her lips. Her skirt is the next target, and you fumble with the zipper, eager to remove the barrier between your hands and her skin. However, as you're about to pull down her underwear, a thought strikes you. Looking around the back of the van, you remember how it's been used for hauling equipment, and the floor isn't exactly pristine.
Thinking quickly, you grab your jacket and lay it out beneath her, ensuring she's on a cleaner surface. “Always got to take care of my girl,” you wink at her, trying to lighten the moment.
“Your girl?” Wanda echoes, her eyes half-lidded, a playful smile curling on her lips.
You realize your slip-up a beat too late, but then, her underwear and skirt are swiftly discarded, and she lies there, beautifully exposed to your hungry gaze.
“You're breathtaking,” you whisper in awe.
She flushes under your gaze. “I could say the same for you,” she murmurs, pulling you closer.
Your eyes roam her body, the soft curves and inviting skin, particularly where she's most sensitive. But you've always been one for asking. 
“Can I taste you?” The question leaves your lips, whispered against the skin of her inner thigh, making her shiver.
She responds with a needy, “Yes, please,” and bites her bottom lip, arching her hips slightly, as if laying herself bare for your indulgence.
You don't waste any more time. Shuffling down, you position yourself between her legs, the aromatic scent of her arousal filling your senses. Carefully, you part her folds with your fingers, your tongue darting out to collect the first taste. The first touch of your tongue against her wetness draws a sharp inhale from her, followed by a moan that has your ears burning from how shameless it sounds.
Your tongue swirls around her swollen nub, establishing a pattern that has her thighs clenching around your head. “Fucky, right there,” she groans, her hips thrusting up, eager to meet each glide and flick of your tongue. The wet sounds of your mouth paired with her whimpers urge you to sneak a hand beneath your jeans, seeking relief for your own building tension.
Her hands tighten in your hair, pulling you closer, almost as if she's trying to mold you to her. “More, right there... Oh, god!” she cries out, providing the exact guidance you need.
Amused by her reactions, you intentionally draw out a slurping sound as your tongue dives deeper, making Wanda retreat, but you abandon your own need for release to grab her ass and pull her back to your mouth. 
“Y/N, please, please, I’m—”
“You like that, don't you?” you tease, voice husky with lust. “You sound so pretty when you beg.”
She keens, a desperate sound, her fingers tightening their grip on your hair. You're relentless, enjoying every second of her unraveling, and she's close—so close.
“Are you going to come for me, Wanda?” you growl, lost in the intoxicating taste of her, pressing your tongue deeper, seeking out every intimate spot that makes her body jolt and writhe above you. Her voice breaks into a high-pitched cry, “Y/N! I'm—I'm—” and you feel her climax, her entire body shaking with the force of it, her wetness dripping from your chin down to your throat, drenching you in the process. 
Wanda's gasps fill the space as she shudders, the aftershocks of her orgasm leaving her body trembling. A wicked grin spreads across your face as you take in the sight of her, completely spent and vulnerable. She squirms beneath your mouth, trying to escape the onslaught of sensations. “Too much,” she pants, her voice hoarse.
Ignoring her plea, you continue your ministrations, lips and tongue working in tandem, driving her to the brink once more. As you feel her tensing up, preparing to escape your relentless assault, you slip two fingers inside her, feeling the tight clench of her around you. The unexpected intrusion steals her breath and the fight from her limbs, her resistance melting under your touch.
“You want more, don't you?” you murmur before your lips find her clit again. 
The van is starting to smell like sex. You know you'll have to do something about this later, but for now, you can't bring yourself to care as you take in every detail of the naked girl before you. The pleasure is almost overwhelming for Wanda, teetering on the edge of pain, but she feels another climax building deep inside her.
“Y/N!” she cries, her grip on your hair tightening, her back arching. “I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!”
You don't stop, doubling your efforts, fingers and tongue working in sync, driving her up and beyond any point she's ever known. Suddenly, there's a gush, wetter and warmer than before, surprising you both. You pull back slightly, and she looks down, mortified. Her face turns a deep shade of red, and she tries to squirm out from beneath you.
“I'm so sorry... I—” Wanda stammers, scrambling to hide her face in her hands.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, a smirk forming on your lips. “Wanda, that was... incredibly hot.”
She looks away, still trying to process what just happened. “I didn’t... I've never...”
Sitting up, you gently cup her face, making her look at you. “Hey, it’s alright,” you say softly, trying to reassure her. “Don't be embarrassed. I'm honored that you felt comfortable enough with me to let go completely.”
She gives a shaky laugh, her fingers lightly tracing circles on your chest. “I can't believe you made me do that on the first try.”
“And I’m extremely lucky to be able to,” you say with a chuckle, gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.
She blushes for a moment, then says, “I noticed you didn’t... you know. Do you want me to...?”
“Next time,” you promise, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Right now, I need to make sure this van doesn’t end up as evidence of our... activities.” You wink, earning a soft giggle from her.
“Besides, I have to admit, I thoroughly enjoyed watching you fall apart because of me,” you add, mischievously wetting your lips.
She blushes, playfully swatting at your arm. “You're impossible.”
-
You were the first to step out of the van, offering Wanda a moment of privacy to get dressed. When she finally emerges, she leans on you for support. “I can't feel my legs,” she jokes, struggling a bit. She hands you your jacket which you'd forgotten, helping you slip it on. Immediately, the scent of her hits you, reminding you that she had climaxed twice on that very fabric.
Before you can dwell on the thought, a man approaches Wanda. It’s the same guy from earlier, the one she was arguing with at the bar. You instinctively square your shoulders, ready to step in between them, protectively, but Wanda halts you with a hand on your chest.
“Pietro!” Wanda exclaims, letting out an exasperated sigh as she utters her brother's name. You halt, puzzled.
She knows this guy?
Pietro looks at Wanda, then at you, his eyes narrowing for a moment. “You ready to go, Wanda?” he asks, clearly impatient.
She turns to you, giving you a soft, apologetic smile. “Y/N, this is my brother, Pietro.”
You swallow dryly, offering a somewhat clammy hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Pietro just eyes your hand, perhaps connecting the dots from earlier. Feeling like an idiot, you quickly pull your hand back, subtly rubbing it against your pants. He departs without another word, muttering to Wanda, “I'll be in the car. Don't keep me waiting too long.”
Wanda watches Pietro go, her smile fading a bit. Turning back to you, she takes a deep breath. “Okay, so, about earlier,” she starts, biting her lower lip nervously. “I might have, um... staged that whole fight thing to get your attention. He wasn’t too thrilled about the idea, but he played along.” Her eyes dart to the ground, avoiding your gaze.
You blink, processing her confession. Before you can come up with any coherent response, she giggles at the dumbfounded expression on your face. “I really have to go,” she says.
And then, before you can react, she plants a featherlight kiss on your cheek. The warmth of it lingers on your skin as she steps back, her eyes holding yours for a long, sweet moment.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her eyes glistening under the soft moonlight. “Tonight was... unexpected, but amazing.”
And with that, she turns and hurries off to where Pietro is waiting for her by a parked car. You stand there, feeling the spot on your cheek where her lips touched, watching her until she hops into the car and drives off into the night. It’s only after the car disappears around the bend that you mentally kick yourself for forgetting to ask for her number. With a sigh, you turn back to your van, resigned to cleaning up.
The chill of the night settles in, and when you slip your hands into your jacket pockets, your fingers catch a scrap of paper. It feels out of place, foreign to the usual belongings you stash in there. You pull it out, and to your surprise, it's a receipt. The drinks listed there jog a memory: an alcoholic cocktail offered to you earlier in the night which you politely declined, and the tangy lemonade that followed right after.
Realization dawns on you. Wanda had been orchestrating things all night. You flip the receipt over and your heart skips a beat. Scrawled at the back in a neat, cursive handwriting is her number, accompanied by a simple message: “Call me soon.”
Grinning like a fool, you grab a cloth and some disinfectant from the compartment. Cleaning the back of a van has never felt this satisfying.
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nataliasquote · 12 days
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Midas Touch | n romanoff
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Summary: no amount of money will ever save a broken marriage or a broken woman. But maybe the right person can turn everything she touches into gold and this time won’t be cursed to break everything she cares about.
Warnings: affair, cheating wife, forbidden love, small mention of physical abuse (a slap)
Pairings: maid!Natasha x wife!reader
wc: 7.1k 😬
Note: another AU? Why are we even surprised. But this idea fully goes to @katyaromanoffpetrova who does just fuel my need to write every AU possible. If you thought cowgirl Nat was hot… oh just you wait. Also the end got angsty, but you should learn to expect that with me now..
-⧗-
Being up before the sun wasn’t anything Natasha wasn’t used to. Even before she got this job, mornings were her favourite. The way the world looked when it was kissed by the watery sun that rose above the rooftops hours before anyone was awake to see it was one of life’s hidden gems.
And one of the many perks of being a live-in maid to one of the richest men in the America was the views from every window in the staggering mansion. The west side of the house overlooked the bustling city below, which was beautiful at night. But Natasha’s favourite was the east wing that revealed rolling countryside and the perfect place to watch the sunrise over the distant hills.
Her maid duties never started this early, but she didn’t mind being awake. It gave her a sense of peace before the mania of the day began. She wasn’t the only maid in the Barnes residence, but her task was slightly different than everyone else’s. She was Y/n Barnes’ maid and that in itself came with a whole host of other challenges.
Seven am was when her ‘day’ started, for the lady of the house was not an early riser. She usually wouldn’t be seen out of bed until at least nine, but on the days James left for work early, she would always see him off from the front door. And wherever Y/n was, Natasha was never far behind, lurking in the background with her hands clasped in front.
Y/n’s laugh was the first thing Natasha heard of her boss, before she was even seen. Her voice oozed wealth and that laugh practically dripped honey and diamonds as it echoed through the high ceilings of the stairwell. With her arm draped over her husband’s bicep, Y/n lingered on the last step, teasingly trying to tower over James’ muscular frame as he shrugged his suit jacket on.
He muttered something in her ear and Natasha watched as Y/n’s neutral expression suddenly switched to a cunning smile and her fingers fumbled with the small tie holding her feathered robe closed. The front fell open, revealing her nightwear beneath it and it was not hard to see the way James’ eyes fell to his wife’s cleavage for a couple of seconds.
These small moments cemented why they were the nation’s favourite couple, and also why Vogue was so insistent on featuring them on the cover. They were still so lovesick yet utterly perfect in a way that didn’t happen by chance. This level of perfection was almost nauseating.
Y/n stepped down off the bottom stair and looked up at James through her lashes, playing the innocent game despite being anything but.
“Goodbye, my love. Try not to murder anyone today,” she husked in her husband’s ear, draping her arms around his neck with a lazy smile. James’ hand fell to the small of her back and he pulled her into him, kissing her lips hastily.
“No promises. Be good.” Y/n was on her tip toes but hardly felt the coolness of the stone floor on her bare feet. She leaned her face into Bucky’s palm that had risen up to cup her cheek. Soft fingers straightened out the lapels of his pristine suit jacket almost habitually.
“No promises,” she mimicked with a smirk, her eyes sparkling playful up at her husband who was transfixed by her sultry gaze. She was truly a siren, luring him in with a simple glance and a smile. Her power didn’t come from her social status; it came from her. The kind that couldn’t be earned or bought, no matter how much money you had.
With another lingering kiss, James pulled away and reached for the drawer of car keys and selected from the collection of sports cars most could only fantasise about. His dark grey McLaren Senna was today’s pick and he tossed the key in his palm like it wasn’t part of a car costing close to a million dollars. His wealth really was astonishing.
Y/n watched him disappear out of the heavy iron front doors and pulled her robe tighter around her body, concealing the simple navy blue silk slip dress that hung delicately from her shoulders. Her robe matched in colour, of course, and the feathers adorning the trim and cuffs swayed as she wandered into the vast kitchen.
She was the typical rich housewife, but it didn’t look tacky on her. She suited this life. Her wrists, neck and fingers might as well have been crafted to be decked out in priceless jewels, her body to wear only the finest garments. Even just the way she moved oozed grace and elegance subconsciously. A sight for sore eyes.
“Natasha,” she called, knowing the redhead was only a few steps behind her. “I’d like my breakfast on the balcony today please.”
“Yes ma’am,” Natasha replied with a small nod of her head.
“Oh, and don’t bother bringing any of that apricot jam you brought yesterday. I only want strawberry, darling. Only strawberry.” She swept back out of the room in a flash of blue and Natasha scurried down to the kitchen to inform the chef.
Now, if it was anyone else, that pet name probably would have sent them reeling. But Y/n was extremely fond of using those names, so it was basically second nature to Natasha.
The breakfast tray was laden with food and beverages as Natasha brought it out onto the balcony. Y/n was relaxing in a chair, still in her nightwear and robe as she scowled over the newspaper in her hand.
“You know, I do find these world affairs awfully boring.” Y/n didn’t bother looking up from her newspaper as Natasha appeared with the tray. She frowned at the column she was reading before folding it away on the table. “I don’t suppose you read that kind of thing anyway.”
Natasha carefully set the coffee pot down on the table. “I try to keep up with what’s going on in the world. But not as often as I’d like.”
“Do you read the paper?”
“No, Ma’am.”
Y/n hummed. “You can have this one if you want. I don’t care for it and James only complains about the headlines. You’d make much better use of it, honey.”
“Thank you, Ma’am. I really appreciate it.”
“Natasha stop,” Y/n held her hand up, making Natasha freeze mid pour. “I’ve told you to call me Y/n. All this ‘ma’am is making me feel old!” Y/n sighed dramatically, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. “I’m not even thirty yet, don’t make me age faster.”
“I’m sorry, Ma-,” she faltered but caught herself quickly, “Y/n, it’s a force of habit.” It wasn’t so much of a habit than it just felt weird to say. This first name basis insinuated they were friends, not two people on drastically different pay grades.
“Well, luckily for you, habits were made to be broken.” There was a heavy intonation in her words, laced with hidden meaning but Natasha just busied herself with setting up the breakfast platter. Various fruits and pastries were laid out, despite Y/n always just picking at a few berries and a croissant. Natasha hung back near the french doors, admiring the scenery so she didn’t watch her boss as she ate.
Y/n slid her sunglasses back onto her nose and stood up to lean over the balcony, the gentle breeze blowing her open robe softly. “Did that package arrive yet? The one from the lingerie company?”
“Yes, it’s in your dressing room.”
“Perfect,” Y/n hummed, her eyes sparkling behind tinted lenses. “I’m going to go try it all on, I think. When you’ve taken the tray, join me, will you?”
Natasha faltered, trying not to look at the outline of her boss’s figure through the thin material of her robe. But with the sun shining through it, it was proving difficult to keep her eyes off the curve of her hips.
“Me?”
“Yes you, Natasha,” Y/n confirmed, smiling to herself. “Who else would I be talking to?”
“My apologises ma’am, I’ll take this right away.”
Y/n didn’t bother correcting Natasha that time, too busy gazing at the rolling landscape beneath her. She found comfort in nature, the way the breeze brushed over her skin and the sun kissed her cheeks making her melt slightly. It differed vastly from the heavy touch of James’ hands, ones she played through a heavy facade to enjoy.
Y/n’s dressing room was that of dreams, just like the rest of her house. But she barely noticed it anymore. Her gaze settled on a white box on the central dresser, smiling to herself. She enjoyed the luxuries of life, and that included lingerie too. She told everyone it was for James, but really it was for her.
She just wanted to feel good for herself.
But those damn feathered sleeves kept getting in the way, so she shrugged her robe off and let it pool on the floor around her feet. She barely noticed the cooler air on her exposed limbs, too busy pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside to reveal the soft coloured lace and mesh, all pastel colours for spring.
Natasha rushed back upstairs as gracefully as she could, passing through the master bedroom to the dressing room at the end. The door was ajar so she knocked three times, as usual, before pushing it open. Her breathing faltered involuntarily.
Was it normal to have that kind of reaction after seeing her boss in nothing but a mini slip dress? There was so much skin and Natasha took a second to gather her thoughts before she announced her presence, keeping her eyes firmly away from the woman in front of her.
“Natasha I want your opinions on these, come here.” The redhead obeyed and joined her side, eyes widening at the items before her. “What do you think?”
This kind of underwear was probably worth Natasha’s entire salary and she was apprehensive to touch it. Her hands stayed by her sides but she tried look objectively, even if she could barely tell the difference between the sets.
“I like that one the best,” she murmured, pointing slightly to a soft pastel blue set. Y/n smiled and plucked it from the box, holding it in front of her.
“Me too, you’ve got good taste.” Y/n slipped one strap of her nightdress from her shoulder and Natasha immediately turned around, almost squeaking at the lack of warning. “You didn’t have to do that, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”
Except it was. Because this wasn’t just any woman’s body, it was her mistress’s and there was no way she would ever be able to erase the images burned in her mind.
“I’ll just,” she started, trying to fill the silence by picking up the discarded robe and hanging it on a hook to her right. She caught Y/n fiddling with the bra clasp on her back, the hooks not quite fitting together.
“I hate new clasps,” Y/n exclaimed through gritted teeth, the hooks slipping once again. “Natasha, would you-?”
‘Don’t look don’t look don’t look’ was all that ran through Natasha’s mind as she carefully fastened the bra. She ignored the way her fingertips brushed Y/n’s skin, this wasn’t the first time. She was her maid, for gods sake. But Y/n was usually adamant that she could get dressed by herself, so Natasha rarely found herself around her mistress in just her underwear.
With a muttered thank you, Y/n wandered over to the mirror, adjusting the way her boobs sat in the cups before admiring the set. It was perfect for spring, the baby blue mesh and complimenting white and yellow flowers sitting flush against her tanned skin. The way the material hugged her body rivalled that of a custom made piece and Y/n hummed, content with what she saw in the mirror.
“It looks- beautiful,” Natasha faltered, keeping her composure as best she could. “James will love it.”
Y/n chuckled in the mirror, her hair shaking across her back as she laughed. “You really believe I care what he thinks?”
Natasha’s brows creased. Was that not why Y/n had those underwear sets in the first place? The redhead was empathetic but she didn’t have a significant other, there was no time for that. So her judgement was skewed, and it showed.
“I thought-“
“That’s cute.”
Natasha stuttered. “I’m sorry?”
“You,” Y/n locked eyes with her in the mirror. “You’re cute. James doesn’t care about this kind of stuff, it’s all for me, darling.” She adjusted the strap of her bra and didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes followed her fingers. “And now you, I suppose?”
“No, I wasn’t-“
Y/n swivelled round, hands on her hips. “I’m teasing you, darling, don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. Frown lines don’t look good on you.” She reached up and softly brushed her thumb between Natasha’s eyebrows, smoothing out the creases that had formed there. The redhead visibly freezed under her touch, the feeling lingering long after her fingers were removed.
“You’re a beautiful girl, Natasha. Who’s the lucky man in your life? Or lady?” Y/n’s eyes shifted, forgetting that she was still in her lingerie set. Natasha breathed out a laugh and darted her gaze to the floor, offering Y/n her robe again.
“I don’t have anyone,” she admitted, missing the look that crossed Y/n’s face. “I spend all my time here, I don’t need anyone.”
“Then I’m honoured to be the lucky lady. And lucky I am.” There was something so alluring about Natasha that Y/n had been hooked on since she laid eyes on her new maid a few months ago. Reserved at first, Natasha was exactly what Y/n needed after years of overbearing and intrusive maids. Natasha was a similar age and felt more like a friend than a maid.
With a confident air about her, Y/n tried on the rest of the lingerie, placing the ones she disliked back in the box with a sigh. Sticking with the blue theme, she slipped on a blue and white sundress, clasped a tennis bracelet around her wrist, slotted her sunglasses into her freshly combed hair and waltzed back onto the balcony. Natasha stayed behind, fumbling with the ribbon around the box before she handed it to the doorman who would organise the return.
The days when James was at work were usually slow and Natasha had some time for herself for a couple of hours whilst Y/n was occupied. Natasha took herself into the city in the late afternoon and ended up in the one store she had never set foot in before.
The lingerie store.
It was a privately owned boutique, of course it was, this neighbourhood didn’t do chain branches, and she quickly walked past the more provocative sets towards the tables at the back. A friendly store worker greeted her but Natasha just kept her head down, politely shaking it when asked if she wanted help.
She was out of her comfort zone, and painfully so, picking up a risky looking set before setting it down a little too quickly. A simple red lace bra caught her eye and she picked it up, only to glance at the price tag and lay it down gently. How could something like that cost so much? Natasha had seen heavier price tags than that of course, she spent her days around Y/n Barnes for god’s sake. But when shopping for herself, everything just seemed too expensive and far too lavish for a plain girl like her.
Natasha was anything but plain, yet she would never see it.
As she looked around the rest of the shop, her mind kept falling back to the red set. It was burned into her mind no matter how many other pieces she saw, and somehow Natasha found herself back at that table again, fingers fumbling over the delicate lace design.
She picked it up, a soft blushing rising to her cheeks at the thought of wearing something so… out there. But the phone in her pocket buzzed and she quickly grabbed it.
Mrs Barnes:
James has set up a date night. I need your help please :)
The red lace set was long forgotten, her mind shifting into work mode in an instant.
Just leaving now. I’ll be there.
When she returned, Natasha headed straight upstairs to find Y/n just leaving the bathroom. Her hair was still dripping and her skin damp, shining in the warm light of her dressing room.
Natasha got to work, drying and styling her hair almost on instinct, having done it so many times. Y/n thoroughly relaxed, adoring the way Natasha felt as she worked through her hair. She softly tugged her roots, but not enough to hurt. Just so it felt like a massage and her eyelids threatened to get heavy.
Date night outfits ranged from lavish to simple, and tonight was a simple night. A little black dress with a deceitful price tag was selected from the closet, a fan favourite of Y/n. She wriggled into the tight material, loving the way it hugged every part of her body as she pulled it up over her chest and slipped the thin straps over her shoulders.
“Where did you go today?” Y/n asked as Natasha zipped up the back of her dress, holding the fabric tight.
“Mostly just window shopping.”
At the mention of shopping, Y/n’s ears pricked up. She wasn’t just making conversation- she was invested. “Did you get anything nice?”
“Not really. Saw a couple of things but-“
“You know you can always take my card if you see something you like,” Y/n insisted, smoothing her hands down the front of her dress to straighten it out. “What store did you visit?”
“It wasn’t anything special.” Y/n shot her an unimpressed look over her shoulder. “I went to the lingerie boutique-“
“No you did not,” Y/n exclaimed, her jaw dropping in excitement as she turned around, clothes long forgotten. “And you didn’t get anything? Oh darling no, we are taking you back there tomorrow and getting you sorted out.”
Natasha moved over to the heels cupboard and selected a classic pair of black patent stilettos. She placed them in front of Y/n for her to slide her feet into, holding onto her hand for support.
“You’ve got that photoshoot tomorrow, so no, we won’t have time.”
Y/n paused, her dangling earring paused in mid air. “And you think they won’t reschedule if I ask them to?” Her brow raised in a ‘try me’ fashion.
“Y/n,” Natasha began to protest. “You don’t need to do that. It’s not like I need anything fancy like you anyway, it’s useless…” she trailed off, a pang in her chest triggering a wave of doubt to shudder down her body. “Vanity Faire won’t be too impressed if you cancel on them again.”
“If they want me, they’re going to have to work around it,” Y/n countered, silencing Natasha as she stalked over, slightly taller than the redhead thanks to her heels. “You are beautiful and you deserve to treat yourself like that. Everyone does, even James and he’s an asshole sometimes. So take this,” she reached into her bra and pulled out her black card, smirking at how Natasha’s brows shot up. “Take this and spoil yourself. I mean it, okay?”
“Thank you ma’am, I’m-“ Y/n almost plucked the card back out of her hand. “Y/n, thank you. You’re too kind to me.”
“Oh stop it, my ego is big enough already.”
The dressing room door flew open to reveal James, narrowed eyes as he stared at the proximity between the two women. Natasha took a couple of steps back but Y/n stayed put, clasping a bracelet around her wrist nonchalantly.
“Y/n, get out here,” he demanded, never one to speak any clearer than he had to. His wife rolled her eyes at Natasha but obeyed, sending her one final look over her shoulder before the door swung shut.
Now they were alone, James grabbed her wrist and shoved her against the wall, towering over her in the only way he knew how to display his power. The power he held over his wife, power that meant he could crush with a single fist if he wanted to.
“James,” Y/n grunted, wincing as his fingers dug into the tender flesh around her wrist. “What is wrong with you?”
“Flirting with the maids now, huh?” He growled, thick brows casting a shadow across his eyes menacingly. “I fire one, you move onto the next, is that how it is?”
“And what if I was?” Y/n baited, not flinching as his body trapped her between the wall and his torso. “Are you threatened? By that cute little thing in there?” She nodded her head in the direction of the dressing room where Natasha was before James gripped her jaw and pulled her face back to his.
“Don’t you dare.” But she did dare. She wasn’t sadistic, but the smile that curled the edge of her lips was downright crazy. But she knew how James was; they fought fire with fire, too stubborn to ever back down.
“Careful, James. Marks, remember?” His grip softened lightly. “Wouldn’t want the paps to spin a story now, would we?”
She saw how he wanted to retaliate, but also knew that she was right. He leaned closer before pulling away, huffing through his nose. “You’re so fucking lucky I love you,” he hissed before he let go of her jaw and allowed her to walk away. His job didn’t help his violent side but James had vowed since day one that he would never harm his wife. Y/n knew it too, and she pushed him to the very edge. Just daring him to.
“Weird way of showing it, but ok,” Y/n mumbled under her breath as she pushed the door closed and took a breath. Natasha averted her eyes, suddenly so busy with a hanger that had been placed backwards. Did she put it there on purpose? That’s not for anyone to know.
She’d seen the strained moments between the husband and wife but often kept her head down, not wanting to fall under James’ wrath. If she was invisible, it was better, but that was easier said than done with Natasha.
Y/n finished clasping her last few pieces of jewellery before accepting her fur shroud from Natasha. The redhead didn’t let on that she had heard every word said next door, but Y/n knew by the way she avoided eye contact that she had.
“You can have the night to yourself, darling,” Y/n winked, checking over her outfit in the mirror beside Natasha. “And you better buy yourself that set.” She gestured to the card in her maid’s pocket, insisting she used it. “I want proof that you did.”
“Thank you, really.”
Y/n blew an air kiss and disappeared to meet James, leaving Natasha once again alone. She felt the weight of the card in her pocket, seeming to grow heavier the more she thought about it. Y/n meant well, but could she really buy something like that with her mistress’ money?
Whilst Natasha debated with herself, Y/n had put on her ‘public’ face. The one that showed she was so madly in love with her husband, clinging onto his bicep as they moved from the car to the restaurant lobby. Paparazzi followed their every move, of course, and James’ bodyguard ushered the couple into the building as fast as he could.
Most celebrities hated the paps with a passion, but James loved them. He loved how much he manipulated them, and they snapped up pictures of the married couple like there was a drought. There was no doubt those pictures would be spattered across gossip sites by tomorrow morning, but that was only more free publicity for him. James Barnes never lost.
However, despite the perfect image they had carefully constructed, more often than not, date nights with James ended alone. He would excuse himself for a phone call just as the food arrived and Y/n could always see him in a private area of the balcony, phone pressed to his ear whilst his other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. Y/n picked at her food in silence, washing every mouthful down with a sip of wine. She ignored the stares and whispers and just played her role to perfection, often sending worried glances out to James.
Tonight she had struck up a harmless conversation with one of the waiters, a young man with a far too eager smile. But she tolerated him for company, politely laughing as he tried to crack an admittedly horrible joke. He was surprisingly good company for the thirty minutes her husband had disappeared for. Although it didn’t help with how sad her situation looked. Y/n was nothing if not flirty, it was in her nature. The way she crossed her legs and looked up through her lashes with a sultry stare had every man, and woman, hooked.
Her siren tendencies didn’t end with her husband, and the waiter hovering by her table was drinking up the attention. It was a big deal for him, one of the hottest women giving up her time to talk to him. He was far too young for her, but Y/n humoured his attempts at flirting, twisting her shoulders so he had a good view from where he was standing. There was a fine line between hot and just plain sleazy, but Y/n would never cross it. She was too good at toying with people.
After a while, James came storming back in, his eyes darkening not only from the outcome of his phone call but also after seeing his wife laughing over another man. His judgement was clouded by anger and he grabbed his jacket, not even bothering to take a bite of his now-cold food. Y/n jumped at his sudden movements but smiled sweetly, thanking the waiter who had stiffened.
“Let’s go,” James growled, throwing down a wad of cash as a tip before storming towards the elevator. Y/n took a moment to gather her things before scurrying after him, her red bottomed shoes clicking loudly against the pristine floor.
“Is everything ok?” She dared to ask once the doors had closed. James looked up briefly, eyed the security camera and clenched his jaw, the muscles in his neck shifting too.
“I work with imbeciles,” he grunted, his hand undoing the top button of his shirt in one fluid motion. “How was the food?”
“It was good,” Y/n stated, slightly wishing she could have finished her glass of wine.
“Good? I pay all this money and that’s the best you can do?” Bad phone calls always sent him into this mood, but Y/n had been with him long enough to know how to tame the tiger.
She stepped in front of him and ran her hands up the front of his sculpted chest, brushing over the muscle and up towards his shoulders. “It would have been better if you were there,” she spoke lowly, her hand sliding up to brush the stubble on his jaw.
James slid his hands around her waist possessively, pulling her flush against him. Anyone could walk in, the elevator wasn’t private, but they wouldn’t dare say anything to James Barnes. No one who confronted him ever walked away unharmed.
“Yeah? Even though you had your new little boy toy?” Oh he was jealous and Y/n had to tense every muscle in her body so she didn’t laugh. “I saw you.”
“You really think he had anything on you?” She asked sweetly, playing him just the way she knew. “I was just bored, baby, I missed you.”
“Damn right. I hope that fuckboy knows you’re mine, and mine only.”
“I’m yours, James, I’m yours.”
She was James’, so why did her mind drift to Natasha for a fleeting moment as she said it?
~~~
Y/n had dismissed Natasha for the night earlier than normal, letting her have the evening to herself before they went out. And she praised herself now, knowing James’ rage was just bottled up and sooner or later it would come out. She didn’t want her meek little redhead to have to see that.
And she was right. Whatever James had been feeling, he held it in until they were both nearly ready for bed. Y/n slid her rings off and placed them in the dish on her nightstand, each one clinking against the porcelain as she dropped it.
“What did you talk to him about?”
Y/n paused her movements for a second. “You’re still going on about that? I told you, it was just harmless conversation.”
“It didn’t look harmless, the way you were looking at him.”
Y/n was quite literally at the end of her tether with his accusations. “And how was that? How did I look at him?”
James rounded the bed, the single chain resting on his bare chest catching in the lamplight. “Like a slut.” His eye twitched, a sign he was pissed. “How do you think that looks for me? I step away for two seconds and my wife is whoring herself out to anyone she can find.”
“I find it laughable that you think you were away for two seconds,” she countered, stepping to the side to free herself from where he’d boxed her in. “May I remind you that I had finished my meal long before you even stepped foot back inside. He just came to talk to me and I engaged with the conversation, is that so bad?”
“Don’t use that tone with me,” James spat, his eyes following her figure as she paced around the room. “You shouldn’t-“
“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t talk? That’s what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? A quiet little wife who only speaks when she’s spoken to and follows you around like a lost puppy.” James set his jaw, hands clenching by his sides. But Y/n carried on, spurred on by his accusations. “Well that’s not me James, and you know that!”
She paused and ran her fingers through her hair, exasperated. “How do you think it looks on you? You bring your wife out on a date but then can’t switch off from work for two minutes to actually enjoy your time with her! I’m saving your ass here, so be fucking grateful!”
That last sentence pushed him over the edge and James stormed over to her like a bull, backing her into a corner. “Grateful? Why should I be grateful? You’re a slut and-“
“Then treat me better and maybe I wouldn’t have to stray so far!”
James’ hand had connected with her cheek faster than either of them had time to process, his rings cutting into her skin painfully. They both froze. Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, the sting of the slap blooming across her cheekbone. James was breathing hard, his hand still raised from the recoil.
An apology would come… wouldn’t it? It had to, he didn’t mean that. Y/n couldn’t move, it was like the air had been sucked out of the room. Her stomach lurched, just urging James to say something. Anything.
A whole host of scenarios of how the next few moments might play out raced through Y/n’s mind, but she didn’t foresee her husband walking out without a word, a button up shirt in his hand.
She watched the door click shut before she sank to the floor, legs buckling beneath her. She didn’t want to cry, he wasn’t worth that, yet the tears still fell, dripping down into the carpet that pressed into her knees. It wasn’t from the pain, but from how stupid she felt.
Why was she still pretending? She played off everything he said to her, claiming it didn’t hurt when in reality it cut deep like a knife. Beneath her defences, she just wanted someone to care and not just because she was pretty. She wanted the slow mornings, the affection that wasn’t just for show. The ‘hey how was your day’ that wasn’t just one sided. But Y/n had sacrificed all of that the day she married James, naive enough to think he’d warm up over time.
The house felt eerily quiet and the blanket of night settled across every room. Ignoring how the clock chimed two, Y/n hauled herself up off the floor and trudged down to the kitchen, barely noticing the icy floor on her bare feet.
The freezer must hold ice packs or something similar, anything to stop bruising and swelling that always leads to questions. Y/n didn’t even bother to check if anyone was around before she pulled the door open and rummaged around, falling upon a bag of frozen peas. Not ideal, but it would do.
Except for the hum of appliances, the kitchen was silent and shadows appeared as the dim fridge light cast a small pool around her. No one was here at this hour, so Y/n dropped her guard and slumped her shoulders, leaning against the side of the fridge with exhaustion.
But she wasn’t alone.
A certain redhead had frozen in place, her spoonful of ice cream hovering somewhere between the pint and her mouth. Natasha was a midnight snacker and her feasts were usually undisturbed, but the sound of footsteps had her retreating into a corner.
It was only when she saw that familiar curtain of hair did she emerge, slowly, as if approaching a small animal, to not scare her off.
“Y/n?” Natasha emerged from the shadows, spoon still in her hand. Y/n did a double take but kept her face turned away, forcing her guard up in a split second.
But it was too slow for Natasha. She saw the vulnerability
“What are you doing down here?”
“I came to get a snack,” she replied with as much conviction as a toddler. Green eyes fell to the bag of peas… interesting snack choice.
“Why didn’t you call for me? I would have come myself.”
“It’s the middle of the night, Natasha.”
“Which is exactly my point, why aren’t you asleep-“
Y/n suddenly emerged from the corner and allowed the fridge light to hit her cheek. Natasha recoiled with a gasp, blinking quickly to wake her brain up. Was she hallucinating or was that what she thought it was? Y/n’s eyes were heavy and looked at the floor, too ashamed to watch Natasha’s reaction
“Did he…?”
The lack of response that followed was louder than a thousand words and Natasha felt her blood boil. She would happily be put away for battery if it meant she could get her hands on James, but she had more pressing matters to attend to.
Abandoning her spoon on the metal table with a clatter, Natasha hurried over and prised the bag of vegetables from Y/n’s hand. She wrapped them in a towel and gently pressed them to her cheek, muttering an apology as her mistress winced.
“What happened?”
Y/n chewed her lip, still avoiding eye contact. “Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.”
Natasha nodded. “Ok,” she replied, respecting her wishes. You couldn’t push with Y/n, she had to come to you. “Here, sit up on there.” She helped Y/n hop onto the counter and her body instantly relaxed.
A comfortable silence fell between them both, somehow not affected by Y/n’s reluctance to talk. They never needed words, that’s what Y/n liked about Natasha so much. She was a comforting presence, and Y/n felt so at home around her.
With their faces so close, Y/n felt her chest warming at things she’d never noticed before. There were flecks of brown in Natasha’s clear green eyes, almost mirroring the freckles that danced faintly across her nose. The frown lines she had wiped away earlier were back and Y/n fought the urge to brush them away again.
After ten minutes, Natasha set the ice pack down on the side and helped Y/n down, the stone now digging into her butt uncomfortably. “Just let it rest for a bit before you ice it again. You don’t want to damage the skin.”
Y/n nodded, her face already numb. Their proximity was close but neither made an attempt to move. Natasha couldn’t keep her eyes off how red her cheek looked and Y/n desperately needed something to shut up the voices in her head.
Her eyes dropped down to Natasha’s lips, wanting to cry with how soft they looked. How gentle they’d feel on her skin, a stark contrast to the rough lips she was used to feeling dragging across her collarbones and neck. Natasha was soft and Y/n felt herself craving it.
“No, Y/n no.” Lost in her head, she’d failed to notice Natasha catching on, almost reading her mind. And as much as the redhead would love to reciprocate, it was inappropriate and not just because of her job.
Y/n leaned forwards, eyes glossy. “Please, Natasha-“
“You’re hurting, I won’t-“ Natasha shook her head, taking Y/n’s trembling hand in her own. She could make a pretty educated guess as to what had happened and did not want to be a part of Y/n’s inevitable. She pushed her own feelings down, stuffing them in a box and cramming the lid on tight.
But Y/n never made her life easy. She gripped Natasha’s hand, pulling it into her. “Please?”
“No, we can’t, you know that. And you’re my boss, Y/n-“
“Nat, I- I want you. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”
The redhead faltered, watching the way her mistress’s chest heaved. Her head screamed at her to stop; it was so wrong. She couldn’t avoid the way her cheek burned red in the dim light, a stark contrast to the rest of her pale face. Never had she seen this much vulnerability in the woman who was full of wit and confidence.
The strength she was so used to seeing had completely disappeared and Y/n peered at her with tears on her waterline, her facade crumbling away with every second that ticked by.
Those seconds felt like an eternity before Natasha slowly reached her hand up.
But it was too soon.
Y/n flinched away, a tear escaping as she let out a whimper. Natasha quickly retreated her hand and let the woman before her turn back, not wanting to push her in any way.
“You’re safe,” Natasha whispered. Y/n’s eyes searched hers, trying to find any sign of a lie. But she came up empty. With a trembling hand, she reached for Natasha’s palm and allowed it to cup her other cheek. The touch was soft, warm, and everything she wasn’t used to. Even on instinct, Y/n couldn’t help but lean into it, eyelids fluttering closed for a split second before she forced them open.
“I’ve got you.”
Y/n glanced at Natasha’s lips and back up to her eyes. She needed to feel that warmth, she needed to kiss lips that didn’t curse her all day long.
“Natasha…”
The redhead couldn’t stop herself anymore and let Y/n lean forwards, connecting their lips in the most gentle kiss. Y/n tasted the sweet dessert on her lips as they moved against each other slowly, the hand on her cheek moving around to the back of her neck to hold her in place.
“Did you have ice cream?” Y/n mumbled against her lips, goosebumps lighting up her skin at Natasha’s touch.
“Maybe.”
The kiss wasn’t anything frantic or passionate, it couldn’t be. It was so featherlight that their lips barely touched, but the way Natasha’s blood felt like it was on fire was enough to convince her that they did touch. She let Y/n lead, moving their lips in tandem and fiddling with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.
Y/n pulled away, a soft smile on her slightly swollen lips setting Natasha’s heart a flutter. The ache in her cheek was hardly noticeable in that moment; she was too fixated on the redhead in front of her.
She leaned in again, chasing that high she wasn’t ready to come down from yet. But Natasha gently pushed her back, shaking her head softly.
“Y/n, we can’t. We shouldn’t be doing this, you know that.” Y/n’s coping mechanisms were unhealthy to say the least, and as much as it pained her, Natasha couldn’t support that. Clarity had hit her like a ton of bricks and guilt settled in the bottom of her stomach, leaving a nasty taste in her mouth.
What were they doing?
Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched Y/n retreat into herself, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth slightly. Her eyes were glossy but the tears refused to spill over. Every muscle in her body was rigid, almost as if she was scared that if she moved, the dam would break and everything would come flooding out. Y/n may be good at a lot of things, but emotional confrontation was not one of those things.
“I know, I’m sorry.” She lingered for a moment, just willing Natasha to speak, to take back her words. Maybe if she closed her eyes, those lips would be on hers again. Their Midas touch, concealing the ache in her heart for a few fleeting moments was all she wanted.
But when Natasha stayed silent, Y/n turned and left, leaving the makeshift ice pack abandoned on the side. She couldn’t stay and let herself fall apart anymore. Her heart had broken twice that night, but why did it hurt so much worse now? Why did Natasha, her maid, have a stronger grip on it than her husband?
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