#marvel hurt comfort

[wild-lavender-rose]

Guardian Angel Part 1

Pairing: Professor!Tony Stark x fem!reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You are a grad student who has been selected by Stark to take his course at your university. Little does he know, there is much more to you than meets the eye. You are hiding your ability to create force fields in a desperate attempt to live a normal life. But when Stark's daughter Morgan is put in danger you step in to save her without hesitation. Now you're weak, injured, and your secret is out.

Warning: Cannon typical violence, swearing, description of injuries

Note: Part 1 is a flash-forward scene after reader has been injured. The following parts will be the events leading up to this scene/moment.

You woke in the middle of a hospital room unlike anything you’d seen before. Black marble floor, lots of windows, an assortment of medical instruments that looked like they belonged on an alien space ship. There was a steady beeping next to your head. You looked, watching as your heart rate increased according to the monitor closest to the bed you were laying in. What was going on? Where were you? 

You sat up slowly, wincing at the awful stiffness in your back. The thin blue blanket you had been covered with slid off, revealing a black sports bra and a pair of black sports pants. Stark Enterprises was written in silver on the pants. 

Stark. The beep on the monitor quickened as you looked wildly about you. The events of earlier came flooding back to you. Where was Stark? Had he brought you here? Where was Morgan? 

You flexed your hands, feeling your power rise to the tips of your fingers. The monitor became frantic as you created a force field the size of a dinner plate, assuring yourself that your powers were still intact before allowing it to dissipate. Next you turned to the monitor, sliding out of bed with a soft groan so you could stand before it. You assessed the screen and was able to understand the basic premise of its design and functions within a few seconds. Tapping the screen, you deactivated the monitor. The beeping stopped. 

Taking a breath, you rubbed at your aching neck. You were only faintly aware of the pain in your legs. The memories were still coming, your foggy brain attempting to piece the sequence of events together. Where had Stark taken you? Hadn’t there been others at the accident? What of their fates? 

It wasn’t until you resolved to leave the hospital room that reality came stabbing through you. At the first few steps a sharp pain made you gasp. You grabbed at the bed for support and looked down at your legs. It was only then that you noticed the outline of bulky bandages underneath the sweatpants. You tried another step, biting back a whimper as the pain worsened. You remembered everything now. All the monitors had sprung to life, alerting you to the pain you were already very much aware of. 

“Shut up.” You hissed, squeezing your eyes shut against the pain. “Damnit it, be quiet.” 

“Hey,” a new voice caused your head to jerk up. It was Bruce Banner, better known as the Hulk. 

“What are you doing?” The question was sharp but his tone and eyes were worried and kind. “You should not be up.” 

You ignored the fact you were talking to a literal Avenger in exchange for the pain that had begun to overwhelm you. “I need to see Stark. Where am I?” 

“You’re in the med bay of Stark Enterprises, now get back into bed.” Bruce’s touch was gentle but resolute as he took you by the arm. 

“How’s Morgan?” You grabbed at Bruce’s shirt when he started to move you, giving a strangled cry as your legs felt as if they were stabbed again. 

“She’s just fine,” in one smooth motion Bruce had you sitting down, guiding your head back before easing your legs onto the bed. 

“Stark,” you grabbed at the sheets under you. The pain was making you helpless and frantic. Your power was bubbling under the service, harder to control as your fear took over. 

Bruce turned on the monitor you had deactivated only moments ago, expression becoming tight as he input a new command. “Your energy is becoming unstable. You need to breathe for me, okay?” He turned to you, his tone soothing. “Everything is okay, you’re safe. Just give me some deep breaths.” 

“Hurts.” You squeezed your eyes shut again, trying to escape your reality. “Oh god,” 

“Jarvis,” Bruce put a hand to your arm. “Get Stark.”

“But you just sent him away.” Jarvis replied, a male voice that seemed to come from all around you. 

“Tell him I made a mistake and get him in here.” Bruce felt your forehead with the back of his hand. “Shit,” he muttered, adjusting the monitor while keeping a hand on you. “Breathe. Just breathe.” 

“Knock me out.” You opened your eyes, breath stuttering as you realized that your vision had gone blurry. That couldn’t be a good sign. “Please, before I, I can’t control my fields when I’m, I’m, in this much,”

“Say no more.” Bruce was already inputting the necessary commands into the monitor. “Hold on.” 

“You rang?” Stark’s voice made you feel equal parts relieved and embarrassed. He was lacking his usual cocky swagger as he crossed from the door to the other side of your bed, looking down at you with such honest concern that you couldn’t meet his gaze. “How’s our patient?” 

“Panicked. I increased her morphine.” Now that Stark was there Bruce removed his hand. “She’ll be asleep in a few minutes.” 

“What can I do?” 

“Talk to her. She’s been asking for you.” 

“Morgan?” Your breathing had begun to slow as the morphine took effect. “She’s okay?” 

“Yeah, just a few bumps and bruises.” Stark smiled at the question, but his eyes were tainted with worry. 

“Why am I here?” 

“Couldn’t leave you there in the rubble. Besides, I thought we should have a talk.” 

“I’m…I’m not interested.” You gave your head a feeble shake, the movement making you dizzy. “Didn’t want anyone to know,” 

“Did a damn fine job of hiding it.” Stark touched the back of your hand, fingers faintly interlocking with yours. “Does it hurt? The energy fields.”

You nodded slightly. It hurt every time you felt your powers rising to your fingertips. 

“We can fix that. Right?” Stark looked to Bruce. “We can fix that.” 

“Let me fix her legs first, then we’ll go from there.” Bruce nodded between the two of them. “Keep talking to her.” 

“Hope this means I get an a in your class.” You couldn’t help but smile even as your eyes began to droop. 

Stark’s grin would have made your heart stutter under any other circumstance. “I don’t know. I haven’t read your last essay.” 

You huffed a laugh. “Professor,” 

“Call me Tony.” 

“No, I can’t.” Your brow furrowed as darkness began to take over. “Don’t want to be an Avenger.” 

“What about a friend?” 

You tried to think the question through. To reflect on the events of the past weeks. Stark was still holding your hand, the sensation warm and gentle. As you fell asleep your hand shifted and fully interlocked with his. A quiet plea for him to stay. And then the morphine fully washed over you and you were gone. 

Fanfic Masterlist

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#tony stark fluff #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony x reader #tony #tony stark #iron man #tony stark x y/n #tony x y/n #Tony x you #Tony x reader #iron man x reader #marvel iron man #iron man x y/n #iron man x you #marvel hurt comfort #Tony stark hurt comfort

[queers-gambit]

Curiosity Killed The Cat

prompt: after rescuing you from kidnappers, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.

pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.1k+

note: author wants things out of her drafts! also don't take this fic too seriously, it's not much at all - just me writing for the fuck of it until i'm ready to focus on my bigger projects.

warnings: modern AU, Mafia AU, obvious cursing, small hurt and comfort, brief depiction of physical violence and self-destruction in the form of: loss of appetite, lack of sleep, other symptoms of depression. NOT edited! author is ashamed because she knows she can give you something better but oh well.

browse the Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

Your feet planted, jarring you to a halt the moment you heard your name in a conversation you were not apart of.

You heard the hammering of your heart, echoing beats of your blood pumping with harrowing desperation. Hands turned cold and clammy, sweat breaking out on your brow and then freezing, feeling as if your throat had swollen to a new restriction and you were anchored in you in place.

Rooted.

But for now, all you could identify was the paralyzing anxiety that anchored you to your spot and made your heartbeat thunder in your ears. You stood outside the lounge, unable to comprehend relevant thought; still listening to low, docile tones continue their conversation, but you couldn't hear real words.

You were stunned. Panicked, confused, hurt - so very hurt. That seemed to register, too; you were really, really hurt.

This was perhaps why curiosity killed the cat.

You reprimanded yourself for listening in - transporting back to childhood during all the times your parents would scold you for eavesdropping. You knew it was wrong, you knew this was a private conversation meant to be shared between trusting confidants, but you couldn't help it - you heard your name and stopped. It was natural, right? To feel curious regarding a conversation seemingly about you that you, yourself, was not apart of?

Curiosity, indeed.

Blinking rapidly, you remembered the only other time you felt such mounting, pressurized fear, and while it might be dramatic, the only other time you could remember this level of anxiety was from about two months ago...

"Yes, baby, I got the bacon."

"And the jalapeños?"

"Uh-huh, the biggest they had."

"Cream cheese?"

"Do you know who you're talking to?" You laughed into the phone. "I'm a professional housewife by now, you can relax. I got all you needed for your fancy little dinner experiment."

Bucky laughed down the phone, "Oh, please, like I didn't see you salivating when we watched the segment on Top Chef."

"Hush," you laughed, too. "I'm leaving the store now," you told him, pushing out of the heavy glass doors, "and should be home in, like, 10 minutes?"

"Lemme pick you up."

"I have legs to walk with, so, no thank you."

He sighed, "Well, I'll open the wine to let it breathe. Red's still good?"

"Let's do a white tonight, please."

"Good deal," he mused softly. "Hey, I was thinking earlier - "

"Hang on," you pleaded.

"What's wrong?"

"No, nothing. There's just a van slowing down, I don't want to get hit," you chuckled some, looking up and down the street before crossing. "Sorry, so, what were you thinking?"

"We haven't been to Paris in months."

You smirked, "I'm sure our plants in the apartment are dead by now."

Bucky laughed, "Oh, I am, too. But, look, how 'bout it, Peach? You, me, all the croissants we can consume this weekend. I'll take Monday and Tuesday off, we can leave tomorrow night."

"Oh, that sounds nice," you moaned. "Paris in the spring? Baby, that's so dreamy!"

"So, is that a yes?"

"It's a hell yes," you grinned. "Do you know the weather?"

"Supposed to be nice and sunny, not too warm or cold. Figured this would be ideal," he chuckled. "But does the weather matter if we're in bed the whole time?"

"No, we're not wasting our time!" You laughed. "We're gonna go do shit, okay? Stereotypical tourist-couple shit."

"I'll bring the camera."

"And I was hoping we could have dinner at that little place we love?"

"I wouldn't take you anywhere else," he mused.

"I think it's - FUCK!" Bucky froze when he heard the screeching of tires; a van coming up to a skidding halt, flurry of voices all yelling but he heard yours clearly. "No, no, no, hey, hey, what the hell's happening? Hey! What's this - hey, hey! Don't touch me! Ow, shit! No! Hey! Fuck's sake - oh, my God! Ow! Hey!"

"Baby!? Peach! Hey! The fuck's going on!?"

There was a thudding over the phone, and Bucky listened to more struggling - more fidgeting and fighting - and then the slamming of a car door. Still calling your name, Bucky heard a scrape over the line before a different voice answered your phone, "James Barnes. On behalf of HYDRA, you're overdue on your payment and we warned you there would be consequences. Deliver the full amount of 17 million - "

"It's 15," he growled.

"Two million more for the inconvenience of stalking your woman."

"If you even so much as touch her, I swear to God - "

"17 million at midnight, at the pier, or every minute you're late, she'll receive the brunt end of our frustration."

"Don't hurt her - "

"Midnight, Mr. Barnes, at the pier - you know where. Don't be late, she looks like she won't last long."

The line went dead after he heard your screech of pain, confusion, and fear. The moment the line cut, he dropped his phone and slowly lowered himself to sit on the kitchen floor, shock coloring his system. It wasn't that he didn't have the money, quite the opposite - but he and his men had a plan in motion to take out HYDRA, their org's competition, and this was totally against all they anticipated. After a minute to sit in his own worry, Bucky jumped to his feet, grabbed his phone, keys, wallet, and two handguns; holstering them both before shrugging his suit jacket on.

He made every phone call he could, gathering the men he trusted most to (one of) his warehouse(s).

For hours, you were strung up by your wrists in a joint-pulling position while the Brooklyn Mafia formulated a plan of attack. It was the most pain you've ever known, but then the abuse started and you were blinded by this new pain. You had bruises most places, cuts that wept blood; scars that would never heal, wounds that wouldn't ever close. You were delirious, miserable, confused, just dazed and confused; praying to a God who didn't listen.

"Oh, look at that," your captor mocked, holding a thick-bladed hunting knife in hand, "it's one minute til midnight, and I don't see your loverboy anywhere."

You sniffled, unable to respond.

He stared out the lone window, tisking and narrating, "Nope, I see not a soul - and with how protective he is over you, you'd think he'd want to ensure your safety. Not leave it to chance, huh?"

You whimpered as the clock struck midnight, your heart hammering in heavy-hung worry. You had tears in your eyes, heart nearly beating out of your chest, feeling incredibly nauseous. The desire to scream never lessened, just fearing what was to come; the men in the room making you fear for the state of your life, their knuckles cracking. You only begged, "Please. Don't."

The main captor laughed, "You can do better than that! C'mon, give me the satisfaction of tellin' ol' James you begged for mercy - but it wasn't enough to sway me. I'll lie, for sure, and say it happened but it will be so much sweeter if you actually do it."

"Please," you shook your head, avoiding eye contact. "Just don't do this, please."

"Oh, honey," he mocked, "it's not our fault he's late. Lads! Have at her, but leave her face for now - she's still real pretty."

You listened as he gave commands in Russian, understanding after the years at Bucky's side; whimpering when the first blow landed to your gut and knocked the wind out of you. The minutes drug by and you felt your resolve crumbling, heart still hammering to a never-before-felt speed that made it feel as if it were jumping out of your very body at every single pulse point. You struggled in your restraints, but it was futile by how tight you were bound; unable to protect yourself.

At 12:03 am, the doors blew open in a resounding blast; concrete crumbling and sprinkling the floor. You cried out as the smoke choked you, coughing through the haze; only barely able to make out certain figures to know Bucky had brought his best men. However, despite the sting to your eyes from the swirling dust and smoke, you saw a lone man stalk through the blasted wall, through the fray, and straight up to you.

"Bu-Bucky!" You choked in relief as he reached to untie your feet first. You dangled for only a moment as his metal prosthetic ripped off whatever held your wrists to the torture contraption. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God, Bucky, holy shit, baby, please, please, please," you rambled as he freed you and instantly caught you on his broad shoulders.

"I got you, Peach, I'm here, I've got you," he promised in your ear, hoisting your legs around his waist so they latched and then wrapping his arms around you securely. "Don't let go and don't look up, okay? Hear me, Peach?"

You nodded into his neck, only able to cry.

Bucky jolted and jerked slightly as he moved through the fight again, but not a minute later, you were stepping outside into the sobering, brisk spring air. This was the moment you understood how dangerous and fleeting life with Bucky could be, making a promise to yourself that if he says take the car, you'll take the fucking car.

And now, here you were, outside the high-rise apartment's lounge (which was just a converted bedroom), listening to your boyfriend complain about you some 2 months after the whole fiasco. HYDRA had been all but wiped out, and in the weeks since, Bucky's men had gone on smaller missions to eradicate the HYDRA members they heard rumor of being local. Yet you didn't feel safe, yet.

You didn't feel safe if you weren't around Bucky.

Everything made you jump: the beep of the done-dryer, that spritz of the automatic fragrance mister in the bathroom, the "duh-dunnn" of a loaded-up Netflix. Keys jingling, car horns, the barking of the dog in the apartment a floor below you... Everything.

Being around Bucky was just like holding a safety blanket. He would always protect you, and for about a week after your rescue, he laid in bed and around the home with you; being lazy; time off work to simply hold you and assure you were safe. Safe in his arms. Safe in his embrace, his presence.

So now... To hear this... You were devastated.

You didn't mean to eavesdrop, it just sort of happened. It was still earlier in the morning, but Bucky hadn't been in bed beside you and based on the feel of the sheets, his body hadn't been there in a while. So, you made some coffee and then ventured around the home in search of your lover; coming upon the lounge and hearing voices from within.

You knew it was common for Steve Rogers and / or Sam Wilson to stay late or visit early, so, you weren't shocked by that, but did falter in announcing yourself when you heard Sam ask how you were doing since the kidnapping. He used your name specifically, making Bucky sigh, and for your curiosity to peak.

"She's different, man."

"How so?" Sam wondered.

"She doesn't like being without me now," he chuckled without humor. "I'm serious, she won't go to the gym until I do, waits to have meals together, won't leave the house if I'm out, and," he scoffed to himself, "you can forget going to the grocery store or anything - she's even stopped going to work - "

"You told her to stop working, like, two years ago when y'all first moved-in together," Sam deadpanned.

"I know," Bucky shrugged, "but it feels tenfold now that she's so reclusive."

"It's normal," Steve sighed gently.

"Yeah? Is it normal that I can't even go take a shit without promising her I'll be right back?" Bucky snapped in exasperation. "It's that bad, she's that fucking clingy, man. I go in the kitchen to make dinner, she's in there 30 seconds later to 'help' me. I take a shower, she finds a reason to linger in the bedroom, but that was better than before, when she wouldn't even shower by herself. It's just a lot, she's everywhere I look. I'm starting to find new reasons not to come home, man, she's always fucking here - and when I walk in the door, she's on me. I need to fucking breathe, but I can't tell her to stop, she'll get her feelings hurt and then I'm the bad guy."

"Man," Steve laughed, "you can't be the bad guy if you go to her in a calm and collected manner, but it's only been two months. She's still recovering."

"Exactly why if I say anything, no matter how calm and collected, I'm the bad guy. I get she's hurting and tryna recover, but Goddamn, does she have to be in every room I'm in? Do everything with me? How do I tell my traumatized girlfriend to back off? Let me breathe?"

Sam laughed, "You don't! You just said it - she's traumatized! Cut the girl some slack, she's got a lot to fuckin' deal with!"

"I'm not negating from that fact," Bucky argued, "I'm just trying to say, the way she's clinging onto me like she can't function without me is just grating at my nerves. I just need to breathe and recharge, but I can't tell her that - fuck's sake."

"Buck," Steve smirked, "you're worried Peach isn't gonna listen, but that's her literal superpower. Just communicate, she can't read your mind, but you need to remember how traumatic all of that was for her to experience - she's scarred from that kidnapping, man. So, sure, you need to recharge, but she needs the support."

"Is it wrong to ask for a day here and there to do that? To recharge?" Bucky asked quietly.

"If you communicate, it's perfectly reasonable to ask for," Sam assured softly. "And whatever you do, don't tell her you think she's clingy. Chicks hate that, that word is, just, like, taboo or something. Real heavy, negative connotations."

"But she is," Bucky growled quietly, "'s like she's afraid to let go 'cause I'll disappear or something."

"Oh, noooo," Sam mocked, "I'm Bucky and my girlfriend loves me too much and trusts me too much and actually feels safe and dependent on me too much - ohhh noooo!"

There was a thump, Sam's cried, "Ow!", and Bucky telling him to shut up. You slowly backed away from the door, trying to settle your breathing as you made your escape down the hall. When back in the kitchen, you whimpered and let the first tears fall... The first of many you shed in the hour it took you to prepare breakfast for everyone; doing your best to eat as you cooked so you didn't have to linger around the men. You took Bucky's words to heart, and maybe you were too sensitive, maybe you should venture outside again.

So, when the lads came out, you set the table without making eye contact with any of them. "Here," you directed, setting the pancakes down, "I made breakfast, come eat, it's still hot."

"Wow," Sam smiled brightly, "thanks, Peach!"

You hummed, still avoiding their eyes as you just set the abundance of food to the table. "You... Cooked without me?" Bucky asked you with skepticism.

"Mhm," you hummed, setting the coffee pot down to a hot pad, "and I'm going out shopping with Nat, so, eat up, lads, I'll do the dishes when I get home. Love you, boys, bye," you waved them off, snatching your keys and then moving to the door to stuff your feet into your sneakers.

"Woah, woah, woah," Bucky left the table, approaching you urgently, "hey, what do you mean? You're goin' out?"

"Yep, figured I've stayed in too long, might as well get out and remember life doesn't stop just 'cause I'm sad."

"Peach - "

"I'll see you when I get home, Buck, okay?" You mumbled, slinging your purse on your shoulder.

"Well, here, here, hey, wait, hang on," he pulled his wallet out, handing you over a wad of big bills. "Spend it all, okay? Have fun, call or text if you need me, yeah?"

"Sure."

Bucky leaned in to kiss you but you just opened the door, ready to leave. He frowned, watching you, barely managing to call a quick, "Love you!"

You didn't return the sentiment, feeling hallow and all too silly to return the affection. In your purse was your laptop, headphones, chargers, and whatever else, so, instead of meeting your friend, Natasha - being just a ruse to avoid Bucky - you started small and just went to the local café. You used to frequent it back in the day, but times were changed, and yet, they were all the happier to serve you the same as before. Getting cozy in the corner, you set up camp and ordered your favorite coffee basically every other hour - letting the day waste away as you caught up on work emails.

Might've wasted time on Instagram and Facebook and Pinterest. Got shopping done on Amazon. Browsed through Target's online selection. Checked out the sale items at Kate Spade. Perused Fenty Lingerie because you could.

Before you knew it, a message was coming in over your MacBook from Bucky, asking where you were - why had you turned your location off?

You packed up and with a to-go cup, made the short trek back home. When you got back, Bucky was pacing in the living room; staring at his phone and typing, then deleting, retyping, groaning, glancing up, typing again, then doing a double take. "Where've you been, Peach? Huh!?" Bucky demanded. "You're late!"

"Out with Nat," you eased.

He huffed through his nose, nodding slowly, "You have a nice time?"

"It was okay," you answered. "I'm gonna go to bed after I shower."

His brows furrowed, "I have a meeting tonight."

"I know."

"O...kay?" He let you go, wanting to ask why you didn't ask him to join like you had so often in the past few weeks.

And it didn't stop there, in fact, it got worse. When Bucky got home from his meeting, he was actually shocked to see you nestled in the bed; teetering on the edge of the shared space while snuggling a weighted body pillow.

When he tried to give you a snuggle, you stirred to life and pushed him back, muttering, "Too hot."

The following morning, he was relatively surprised to see you up and about before him; barely getting a word in before you were slipping out the door to go on a morning jog. He was confused by how all of a sudden, where you were once everywhere he looked, now, you were disappeared and distant and gone. You worked out alone, cooked alone - but always left him a plate, but long gone were the cute little sticky notes you left for him. You once haunted the apartment by never wanting to leave, and now, ghosted in and out of it on a daily basis.

You never bothered to go far from home. You liked hanging at the coffee shop and luckily, your job let you work from home most days, and the rare time you were due back in the office, it was only about a 20 minute walk. You got better at lying, couldn't even remember the last time you and Bucky had sex, and even now, the last time you had a meal together. You didn't text him about your day; where you once might've told him about an adorable dog you saw on the street, now, you only ever texted him if he asked a direct question.

Food lost appeal, your appetite vanished.

Sleep evaded you, plaguing you with nightmares when you did rest.

Interest dulled, passions were snuffed, and only fearful, confused anger remained. It showed in the way weight seemed to shift around your body, thinning; the lack of sleep creating dark rings and bags under your bloodshot eyes.

After two weeks of this, Bucky grew irritated and short with everyone around him. It reflected in his work, the way he spoke to everyone; even Steve and Sam getting the brunt end of his anger. Without you to assure him, Bucky was off his rocker; losing his cool; his patience stretched far too thin. So much so, the two mates approached an outside associate, Natasha Romanoff, after a particularly snappy meeting to plead for her to talk to Bucky.

"James," Nat greeted as she strode into his office without knocking.

"I know you're my oldest friend, but you don't have that privilege yet," he mused, never looking up.

"What?"

"Not knocking. What is it, Nat?"

"Just came to check on you, you know, like friends do."

"Hm," he chuckled without humor, "and what did Peach say to you?"

"About...?"

"Me."

"Nothing, I haven't gotten ahold of her for weeks."

Bucky paused, slowly lifting his head in confusion; brows furrowed and mouth set in a firm, straight line. "What?" He grit.

"Huh?" Nat wondered.

"She's been telling me that she's hanging out with you for the past two weeks," he revealed.

"Nope, not since the incident with HYDRA."

Bucky's (right) flesh hand crushed the pen in his grip, taking a long breath. "All right," he sighed, "so, why come today?"

"What's really going on, Buck?" She worried softly. "Is it really whatever's going on with Peach? You're this pissed off? What'd she even do?"

"She just..." He cut himself off with a long sigh. "It's nothing."

"Bucky," Nat gave a pointed look.

"She's just avoiding me," he muttered. "It's like she's barely home, almost like a ghost."

"Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes, and no," Bucky snipped, rolling his neck out. "I'm just worried about her now, she's never not communicated before."

"Something's bothering her," Nat shrugged. "She probably needs you right now, Buck."

"I can't do it all," he whispered. "I can't be who she wants and run this organization at the same time."

"She doesn't need that, she just needs you to be her partner," Natasha spoke softly. "She needs to feel loved and supported, and surely, she maybe felt weird about whatever you were projecting. Instead of taking it out on your men," she smirked, "why don't you just talk to her? 'Cause I hear you're bein' a more-than-usual asshole lately. You need to ease up or get laid, 'cause you're taking it out on good, loyal men, and that's entirely unfair."

"They can take it."

"Sure, but they shouldn't have to," Nat rolled her eyes. "Look, since you won't answer me, I'm assuming the sour mood is in regard to whatever relationship issues you have right now?"

"Sure," he tossed the pen away, opened a skinny drawer to his right and select an identical one.

"Bucky," she growled.

He sighed, "She's lying to me, Nat. Saying she's with you when she's not... Is this an affair? She's gone all the time now."

"No way," Nat laughed. "Baby girl doesn't have the energy to entertain anyone - let alone two men. You're just the exception."

"Why lie, then?"

"Maybe she didn't want you questioning her..."

"No shit."

"Well, did you get into a fight?"

"No."

"Any reason she doesn't want to be home?"

He shook his head with a sigh, "Not that I know of."

"You had to do something."

"Honest, I haven't. She was being all clingy, but then one day, a switch flipped."

Nat frowned, "You think... Your girlfriend is being clingy... Because she was kidnapped and beaten up... Because of your fucking job... And is probably scared...out of...her mind...? I get that correct?"

Bucky paused for a long moment, muttering, "Oh, my God."

"Yeah, you asshole. Think of it that way! She's afraid!" Natasha snapped. "And probably picked up on your energy, so, she made herself scarce."

"I didn't mean - "

"I don't care, go home, apologize to that sweet angel - she doesn't deserve this."

Bucky paused, "What is 'this' exactly?"

"James. Focus on the present - your woman. Go make this right. We all know you're this big, bad dude - but it's okay to be a little sensitive towards the woman who loves you without condition!"

Bucky relented, figuring the redheaded Russian mobster was right.

The entire drive home, Bucky considered the ways you had changed in the few, short weeks since he vented to Sam and Steve about your clinginess. You didn't take meals with him, didn't cook, work-out, or do anything you used to do together. Sex? Forget it. Dates? Nope. Cuddling? No, you're always 'too hot'. And when he thought about it, he remembers seeing the wads of cash he'd leave for you stuffed in his sock drawer - surely trying to make him think it was just another emergency fund he had hidden. You never spent his money, feeling humiliated by his choice of words.

Clingy...

You didn't text or call him when he was gone, you hadn't even so much as kissed him in what felt like ages... Well, more like you hadn't initiated any kisses...

His heart weighed in his chest as he realized he hadn't even so much as hugged you in days. You were rarely in the apartment together, and when you were, you were just silent and busy with chores. It was as if you operated on the exact opposite schedule as he did, went to new extents to avoid him, and his heart clenched in his chest.

When he got home, you were caught cooking in the kitchen - being obvious that you weren't expecting him. The door slammed and his baritone voice snapped, "Peach!"

You gulped, holding the sauce-covered wooden spoon to your chest. When he rounded around the corner, he found you and slowed down, sighing in relief. "What's wrong?" You worried in a timid tone.

He panted lightly, relaying, "Needed to find you."

"I'm here."

"I know," he relented, charging up to you and engulfing you in a tight, heavy hug. "I needed to talk to you, Peach," he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"You. You're what's wrong."

"What the fuck does that - "

"No, no," he pulled back to stare down at you fondly, "I don't mean it like that, just that... You're struggling. I can see that. But you're not alone, I'm here with you, and I got a little caught up in my head when I realized someone was so very dependent on me - it fucking scared me. But then... Then you just shut yourself off and hid away from me, and oh, my God, it's so much worse, baby. Don't do that," he breathed, "okay? Don't ever shut me out - don't stop loving me, don't stop talking to me, don't give up on us. I can't read your mind, you can't read mine, it's not an excuse - but we understand better when we trust each other enough to communicate what's required. I'm so sorry I got caught up in myself, I didn't know what you needed - but I'm here now, I'm here - I'm not leaving you."

You collapsed into his chest, taking a shuddering breath.

"Don't ever stop talking to me, Peach," Bucky whispered, kissing the top of your head; keeping you close. "I'm so sorry, baby, if I - "

"If?" You snapped, pulling back to glare at him through your tears. "I heard you, Bucky. I heard you talking to Sam and Steve, and about how clingy I am."

"I was wrong," he insisted. "I was overwhelmed and tired and just stretched thin, the easiest thing to do is attack those closest to me, and that's you. It's not right, it's the worst I could do to you after all you've been through, and I'm so sorry. I was wrong, you're not the person to take this out on - and I'm so sorry, Peach."

You sighed, "I don't mean to be... I don't mean to cling - "

"Nah," he chuckled, caressing your cheek, "you cling as much as you want. Cling as tight as you want, baby, don't let me go. I'm sorry for what I said and the way it made you feel, it was wrong - so fucking wrong of me, and I see that. When you pulled away from me, I just... I couldn't think. It felt so wrong, and I knew it was my fault." He took your face in both palms, promising, "I'm so sorry, Peach."

You shrugged meekly, "It's okay."

"It's not."

"No, but apologizing is a step in the right direction."

He nodded, "What else can I do?"

"Nothing - "

"Peach."

You paused to think, smiling shyly, "Movie night?"

"Whatever my pretty girl wants," he nodded.

"Hmm... Get a bath with me?"

"All right... Sure, okay..."

"And face masks."

He sighed, "Okay."

"And mani-pedis."

"Baby."

"You said you were making it up to me, right?"

He smirked, "That's right... All right, yeah, sure, fine, we can..." He sighed again, "We can do all that, Peach, whatever you want."

"I just want you," you told him softly. "I didn't mean to be so clingy. I was just afraid... I felt afraid everyday, just so very unsure in this life. You're the only thing that makes sense to me, Buck, and when I heard you, I just... I guess I realized how dependent I'd been and wanted to give you space. Last thing I want is to smother you, to drive you away from me."

"Not ever gonna happen," he promised softly. "I just didn't handle it like I should've. I'm sorry, Peach, but I'm here now - for whatever you need. Want me to take a few days off, just be together? I'll arrange it. Want to get away for a bit? We can go."

"I just need you," you whispered. "Only you and I should be okay - I can be okay if I have you, but feeling like I lost you? Even a fraction? Buck... James, it was such a harrowing feeling, I wasn't sure what to do to move forward. So, I think I just panicked, shut down; thought if I could just get back to normal, you'd love me again..."

"I never stopped loving you," he swore, "I just had a bad lapse in my own judgement. Nothing against you, baby. Nothing."

You nodded again, letting him tuck you into his chest; perfectly snug under his chin as he coiled his arms around you. He let out a long sigh, his guilt swelling to new heights, but for that present moment, everything seemed okay.

Felt okay.

Appeared okay.

And you'd both do whatever it took to remain as okay as you possibly could.

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

Clingy Baby collection masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel au #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky au #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x you #mafia au #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes hurt/comfort

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad. 

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #marvel #sargeant barnes #sargeant bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes whump #bucky x fem!reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #marvel au #bucky barnes au #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky fanfic

[lymmsweb]

Until I found you

🕷pairing : miguel o’hara x spider!reader

🕷word count: 1095

🕷warnings: non sexual intimacy, description of wounds, nudity, minor ATSV spoilers

🕷summary: Lyla alerts Miguel that you’re injured, Miguel takes it upon himself to help you

🕸 After he set up the Spider association you were one of the first that joined, he didn’t feel much for you at first but after going on countless missions together he trusted you more than anyone.

🕸He gave up on finding love after his daughter died, he felt as if he didn’t deserve a good relationship after all the damage he caused. You were one of the few people that helped him through his guilt and sadness after the event, often cracking jokes with Peter B. to get Miguel to crack even the littlest of smiles.

🕸 He never truly got over his daughters death but he slowly started to act softer and more affectionate with you. He would hang around the lobby more, he didn’t really know why but he always felt like he was looking for someone every time he went out. All most each time he came out of his ‘office’ you would always find a way to lock eyes with him or even strike up a conversation and each time he’d always let his rough exterior fall and shoot you a small smile.

🕸 Normally in his free time you’d always be with him eating Empanadas or Arepas in the kitchen, working in silence next to each other, checking up on you daily and slightly leaning into your touch whenever you’d accidentally bump into him. Miguel even gave you special authorisation with Lyla that no one but him had.

🕸 It was when Lyla alerted him that you were severely hurt after a mission gone horribly wrong he quickly dropped everything and rushed over and into your dimension. You were bloody and bruised, sitting on your living room floor panting and exhausted. Miguel’s heart dropped for a second,at the thought of loosing you he’s reminded of how his daughter hung onto him before she disappeared.

“Mierda! What happened?” he panicked as he bolted over to the medical kit you kept under your bed. He knew where everything was in your house, he crashed many times to your place durning restless, nightmare filled nights. He fumbled a bit as he grabbed it, hurriedly making it back to you making sure he didn’t knock anything over. Without hesitance he started to rip your suit off to get more access around the wounds.

“Buy me a drink first.” you chuckled weakly as you watched him furrow his brows as he started to disinfect the gash in your thigh.

“You only need one drink to sleep with me?” he joked as he to reach over to grab the needle and stitches, rubbing your leg gently with his other hand. He knew he had to ask what had happened but he decided against it just in case you would start stressing out more, although this didn’t stop him seething with rage every time he saw your bruised and cut face.

“Cielo this going to hurt.” he apologetically looked at you before he started to close the wound, with every painful noise you let out his heart broke just a little more, reminding him yet again how in his daughters final moments she was also making those noises. It didn’t take him long before he was finished, putting away all the medical equipment he made Lyla scan you for any internal damage. It turned out you had a concussion but apart from that you were somewhat ‘okay’.

“You should probably wash yourself.” Lyla chimed in, looking closely at your body before turning around to wink at Miguel. He scoffed in annoyance and swatted her away. She always enjoyed pushing her limits with him.

“Come let’s get you cleaned up.” blush crept up on your cheeks as he bent down and picked you up bridle style, trying his hardest to not touch any bruises as he gripped onto you harshly. He swiftly moved around furniture and rooms until he made it to the bathroom, setting you down on the toilet seat before turning to get the bath ready. He stared at the water slowly filling up the tub lost in though, what if he got there sooner, what if you died, what if…? He didn’t know what he’d do if you were no longer by his side, if he didn’t get to hear you again, to feel you again-

“Romeo, you okay?” your teasing words snapped him out of his trance, his head snapped towards you, just blankly meeting your eyes.

“I should be asking you that.” he hummed as he looked you up and down, taking in the way your torn suit stuck to the curves of your body. The way your lips were slightly parted showing your front teeth, the way you looked at him intensely back. He felt like he was under your microscope as you were studying ass his features too.

“Miguel..” you placed your hand on his knee, softly rubbing it. Once he heard you softly whispering his name, touching him so gently he realised just how much he was deeply in love with you, he would’t be able to having you not there in his life.

“Don’t scare me like that again, okay?” Miguel replied as he grabbed your hand intertwining his fingers in yours as he stood up, bringing you up with him. “Also the bath is ready, do you need a drink firs-“

“Shut up.” a light smack to his chest interrupted him, earning a small laugh both of you. Miguel silently asked for permission, waiting for you to allow him to help. You offered him a nod and smile, relaxing your body as he started to strip away the layers from your body, each little touch was like electricity against your skin. It took a while before you were down to nothing. He stayed silent, not letting his eyes wander around your naked form keeping strong eye contact.

He grabbed your hand and helped you into the tub, worried you’d end up slipping and hurting yourself even more, sitting down in the water felt like a blessing against your skin, finally getting all the seat and blood off of your skin was rejuvenating. Miguel felt his heart flutter as he realised how domestic the scene in front of him was, finding comfort in the love and trust you gave him. He walked around searching for your floral scented shampoo and your citric body wash, humming a song quietly to himself. Once he retrieved everything you needed, he passed you the bottles and sat down next to you playing with your hair, watching you intently as you cleaned your blood off of you.

a/n: Cielo - Sky (affectionate nickname) Mierda - Shit . I’ll def be writing more Miguel so whatever nickname he says in spanish is normally what my parents call eachother! The title is taken from this song. Also i just redid my page, hope y’all like it!!!

#spider man 2099 #spiderman #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse headcanon #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #spiderman x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o’hara x reader #marvel x reader #fluffy #angst #comfort #hurt/comfort #intimate

[vroomvroomwee]

Do you want to comfort your fav fictional character because you love them and don't want them to be alone or do you want to do it because you see yourself in them and you project onto them and comforting them is the only way you can comfort yourself since you've always had to manage and take care of your own feelings and had to suffer alone and be the only one there for yourself? Hmm?

#am i talking about myself no no no absolutely not #comfort character #fictional characters #hurt/comfort #comforting #good omens #goodomens #crowley #aziraphale #coping mechanism #doctorwho #doctor who #ofmd #wwdits #mcu #marvel #alec hardy #broadchurch

[urdepressedslut]

Hello lovely,

I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)

Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky

Please. That would be nice.

Take care honey

oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰

Love Hurts

♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.

♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this

main masterlist

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+

Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.

It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.

It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.

That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.

“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.

“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.

He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.

“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.

“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.

He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.

“Not really.” He admitted.

You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.

“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”

You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.

“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.

You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.

“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”

His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.

“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.

“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.

But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.

“Like what?”

You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?

“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.

“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.

You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.

“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”

“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.

“No, no Buck listen—”

That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.

“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”

You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.

“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.

Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.

He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.

Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.

“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.

Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.

“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.

You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.

“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.

Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.

Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.

“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.

“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.

Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.

“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.

“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”

Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.

“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.

Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.

“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.

Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.

“Bucky I—”

“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.

Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.

Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.

“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.

You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.

“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.

Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.

He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.

“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.

You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.

“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.

Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.

“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.

Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.

Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.

God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.

You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.

Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.

You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.

"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.

He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.

Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.

“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.

Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.

“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.

Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.

“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.

You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.

“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.

Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.

“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.

You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.

Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.

“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”

You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.

“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.

Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.

“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”

“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.

His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.

Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.

You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.

Yeah… just one more day.

You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.

Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.

You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.

The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.

You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.

You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.

Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.

You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.

You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.

You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.

You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.

Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.

“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.

You furrowed your brows, looking him over.

“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.

You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.

“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.

You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.

“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.

You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.

“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.

He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.

You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.

Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.

Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.

“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.

“He hates me.” You mumbled.

Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.

“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”

“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”

You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.

“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.

Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.

You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.

He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.

“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.

He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.

Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.

“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.

“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”

He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.

Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.

Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.

“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.

“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.

You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?

“Then why?”

“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.

The anger was approaching.

“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”

You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.

He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.

“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”

You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.

“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.

You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.

“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.

You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.

“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.

“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”

You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.

“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.

It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.

“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.

“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.

“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.

“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.

“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.

“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.

Like he could finally breath.

“Why?” He wondered.

You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.

“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.

His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.

“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.

You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.

“Never again— I promise.”

This time, he wouldn’t break it.

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TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano

#bucky barnes #sebastian stan #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #buckybarnes #marvel imagines #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #protective bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #hurt/comfort fic #james buchanan barnes #beefy bucky barnes #theleggymeggy fics #fluffy #heavy angst #I write so much sadness I swear im okay #thank you for requesting!

[midastouch013]

Exes And Stomach Flus

Based on this request

Summary: You just came back from a horrible date, so what happens when you hear your ex throwing up on you way back.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort. Self-loathing (N). Break ups. Throwing up. Sick Nat

---

The echoes of a disastrous date reverberated in your mind as you trudged through the walls of the avengers compound. The evening had been a train wreck, courtesy of a pick-me chick whose incessant need for validation grated on your last nerve.

The terrible evening was a stark reminder of why you had distanced yourself from the dating scene in the first place. But even as you tried to push the memories aside, thoughts of Natasha flooded your mind, bringing with them the pain of your breakup.

It had been months since Natasha ended things, leaving you with more questions than answers. There were no explanations, no closure—just a void where your relationship had once thrived. In the aftermath, you had retreated from the avengers, fearing having to see her, seeking solace in solitude as you tried to heal the wounds she left on you.

And so when you reached Natasha's door, yours just 3 more down, you hesitated. Sighing heavily, ready to go to your room and drown your sorrows with a bottle of wine.

You, however, stopped when a muffled sound caught your attention—a retching, guttural sound that sent a pang of concern through you and before you knew it, against your better judgment, your hand was knocking softly on her door.

"Natasha?" you called out, pushing the door open cautiously. The bed had been abandoned but the bathroom lights glowed, and the sight that greeted you was unexpected, yet strangely familiar. There she was, Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow herself, hunched over the toilet, a ghost of her usual composed self. The sound of her sickness echoed in the room, stark against the backdrop of her vulnerability.

You stepped inside, closing the door behind you. "Hey," you murmured softly, approaching her side. "Are you okay?"

"I'll survive," she said cold and abrupt, although the weakness showed clearly

And that made you falter, feeling like an intruder in her space. The pain of being near her, yet so far from the intimacy you once shared, threatened to overwhelm you. You considered leaving, seeking solace in the company of someone—anyone—but the sight of Natasha's vulnerability rooted you to the spot.

"Nat," you murmured softly, torn between your desire to help and the ache in your heart. "Do you want me to get Clint or someone else?"

You were sure she'd ask for Clint, Wanda at the least, but Natasha's response was immediate, a desperate plea that cut through the air like a knife, a stark contrast to the previous response. "Please, don't leave me," she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

"Nat-asha, I don't know if this is a good idea," you protested weakly, your heart torn between conflicting emotions.

And for the first time in the last few months, her eyes look up at yours with a silent plea in her eyes. A look you knew all too well—a silent request for comfort, for you to be there in her time of need.

Despite the turmoil within, your heart couldn't ignore the silent plea in Natasha's eyes, nor the desperation in her weakened voice as she begged you to stay.

“Please”

For what felt like an eternity, you battled with your own emotions, protesting weakly against the overwhelming urge to leave. But with each passing moment, Natasha's grip on your hand tightened, her silent plea resonating within you, until finally, with a heavy sigh, you relented.

"I'll stay," you whispered softly, the words barely above a breath, yet weighted with the depth of your emotions.

Natasha's relief was palpable, a flicker of gratitude shining in her eyes as she leaned into your touch. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the quiet of the room, the silence, not for long though, as she hunched over the toilet again.

As Natasha retched again, you winced in sympathy, a pang of sorrow tightening your chest. Without hesitation, you moved closer, your hand rubbing soothing circles on her back as she endured another wave of sickness.

"It's okay, Nat," you whispered softly, your voice a gentle reassurance in the midst of her distress. "I'm here. You're going to be okay."

Natasha's only response was a weak nod, her grip on your hand tightening as she struggled to regain her composure. Despite the pain etched on her features, there was a quiet determination in her eyes—a silent acknowledgment of your presence and the strength it brought her.

As the waves of nausea subsided, you helped Natasha to her feet, her body trembling with weakness. With careful movements, you guided her to the bathroom sink, supporting her as she rinsed her mouth and splashed water on her face.

"Can you stand?" you asked softly, concern lacing your voice, when you realised she had finished throwing up.

With a determined nod, Natasha attempted to rise, but her legs wobbled beneath her, threatening to give way. Without hesitation, you stepped forward, your arms wrapping around her waist to steady her.

"I've got you," you murmured reassuringly, your voice a gentle anchor in the sea of uncertainty.

Together, you guided Natasha to the sink, supporting her as she leaned against the counter. With trembling hands, you picked up the toothbrush, applying toothpaste with careful precision.

"Here, let me help," you offered, your touch gentle as you guided the brush along Natasha's teeth. With each stroke, you could feel the tension in her body easing, her breaths coming easier as the discomfort began to fade.

As you helped her rinse her mouth and splash water on her face, you couldn't help but marvel at the vulnerability she displayed—the quiet strength that lay beneath her fragile exterior. She'd only ever shown you this few months after you started dating, and that was after you had admitted that you loved her.

With Natasha leaning against you for support, you guided her to the bedroom, your movements slow and deliberate. You helped her change into fresh clothes, your touch a silent reassurance of your presence.

You settled Natasha into bed, ensuring she was comfortable before taking your place on the opposite side, leaving a significant space between you.Then, in the stillness, you heard what seemed to be a small sniffle, followed by another. And another. And soon enough the sound of Natasha's silent tears filled the room. 

As Natasha's tears fell and she let out her first sob, something she never does, only ever silently crying, your concern intensified, your heart pounding with worry. "Nat, what's wrong?" you asked, your voice soft but urgent, reaching out to touch her trembling shoulder that faced away from you.

She recoiled slightly, as if your touch startled her, before finally turning around and meeting your gaze with eyes brimming with pain. "You… you'll hate me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own cries.

Your brow furrowed in confusion, your own heartache mixing with concern for her. "Tasha, whatever it is, you can tell me," you urged gently, your voice tinged with worry.

“The reason-” she cracked, unsure of what to say, “The reason we broke up-” 

With a shaky breath, Natasha hesitated, her lips parting as if she struggled to find the right words. "It wasn’t you, it was me," she finally managed, her voice thick with emotion.

A surge of frustration and anger rose within you, the pain of her abrupt departure still fresh in your mind. "What do you mean, it's not me? You ended things without a word, Natasha!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling with emotion. "You left me without any explanation, and now you expect me to believe it's just you?"

As the words spilled from your lips, a torrent of hurt and betrayal and partially confused with why she was bringing it up in the first place, Natasha flinched, as if your words were a physical blow.

She let out a shaky breath.

"I felt unworthy… like all I could offer you was pain and darkness," she confessed, her voice trembling with self-condemnation. "I'm a monster, and you deserve so much more than that."

Natasha's confession struck you like a dagger, each syllable driving a wedge deeper into your heart. Your throat tightened with unshed tears as you listened to her unravel before you, her voice trembling with pain and anguish.

"I'm broken, Y/n," she choked out, her words a broken whisper against your chest. "I don't deserve your love... I don't deserve anyone's love."

Natasha's words hung heavy in the air, her words a painful echo of her inner turmoil, and you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. The weight of her self-loathing bore down on you like a crushing weight, threatening to break you more than you were by the breakup. And as she broke down before you, her sobs echoing in the darkness, you knew that you couldn't let her face this pain alone.

With sure hands, you quickly gathered her into your arms, pulling her into your chest despite the resistance in her movements. She pushed against you with all her strength, her cries of anguish muffled against your shoulder as she tried to push you away. But you held on, refusing to let go, your grip firm and unwavering as she struggled against you.

With each push, each desperate attempt to break free, your heart broke a little more, the pain of her rejection cutting deep into your soul. But you refused to give up, your love for her outweighing the ache in your heart. And so you held her close, whispering soothing words into her ear as she fought against you, her cries growing louder with each passing moment.

But slowly, oh so slowly, the resistance began to fade, her struggles growing weaker as the tears continued to fall. And as she finally collapsed against you, her body trembling with exhaustion, you held her close, your arms a silent refuge in the midst of the storm.

Gently, you brushed the tears from her cheeks, your touch tender as you cradled her close.

"Nat," you began softly, your voice a soothing balm in the darkness. "You're not everything you claim to be."

With a shaky breath, you launched into a heartfelt monologue, your words pouring forth much like the contents of her breakfast, lunch and dinner, a few moments prior

"You're not a monster, Nat," you asserted, your voice unwavering. "You're one of the bravest people I know. You escaped the Red Room, survived it. When Clint and I gave you a chance, you took it, you took it and never looked back. You're not broken—you're a survivor."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you continued, recounting the countless moments of humor and warmth that Natasha brought into your life. From her dry wit to her fierce loyalty, each trait painted a picture of a woman far far far away from the despicable figure she saw herself as.

"And let's not forget how you save millions of people, on a weekly basis" you added, a note of pride in your voice. "You risk your life all the time, from stopping bombs from detonating to fighting aliens conjured by gods, and because of you, countless lives were spared. That's not the mark of a monster—that's the mark of a hero."

"And don't even get me started on the cute things you do," you teased gently, a playful twinkle in your eye. "Like the way you scrunch up your nose when you're concentrating, or the way you pretend to hate it when I steal the last slice of pizza. Those quirks, they make you who you are. They make you human."

Leaning in, you pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. "Tasha, you deserve the world," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity. 

"You in the months we were together made me the luckiest and happiest person in the world, just by being next to me. And no matter what lies in your past, no matter what mistakes you think you've made, I'll always see you for the incredible person you are."

Despite the tears still lingering in her eyes, Natasha couldn't help but chuckle at your words, a faint glimmer of light returning to her gaze.

Natasha's tear-stained eyes searched yours, a glimmer of hope flickering within them. "You really think so?" she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah," you replied, your own voice filled with conviction. "As a matter of fact, I know so"

She gave you a small smile which didn't last long as her stomach lurched again and she was scrambling out, from under the covers.

As Natasha rushed up from the bed, the urgency in her movements palpable, you couldn't help but spring into action once more. Hurrying after her, you offered your support, holding back her hair as she retched into the toilet once more. The sound tore at your heart, a stark reminder of her vulnerability in this moment of weakness.

Once she had finished, you helped her back to bed, guiding her gently until she was settled against the pillows. As she leaned back against you, her breathing labored, a moment of vulnerability passed between you, her words hanging heavy in the air.

"I still love you," Natasha whispered softly, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the room.

You froze, her admission catching you off guard. "I… I just got back from a date," you stammered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

The hurt flickered in Natasha's eyes, a guardedness settling over her features once more. With a determined look, she tried to sit up, as if preparing to distance herself once more.

But you couldn't let her, you wouldn't. Without hesitation, you reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder to stop her. "Nat, wait," you urged, your voice filled with urgency. "I'm… I'm still in love with you too."

And that seemed to click in her head as she relaxed in your arms again but a small tension lingered in the air, the weight of your admissions still hanging heavy between you. And, just as the silence threatened to become suffocating, you felt a spark of mischief flicker within you.

"Well, I suppose that's one way to get back with your ex," you quipped, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

Natasha's chuckle was music to your ears, a soft melody that chased away the lingering tension in the room. "I guess you're right," she replied, her voice laced with amusement, before adding. "I'd kiss you right now if my mouth didn't taste of puke."

The humor in her words caught you off guard, a burst of laughter bubbling up from deep within you. "Well, that's a mood killer if I ever heard one," you joked, the laughter easing the weight from your shoulders.

And so, a toothbrush and paste later, you finally got to kiss the ruby red lips of the love of your life again. Knowing that it only got better from this.

------------------

#avengers #black widow #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #anon ask #natalia alianovna romanova #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff hurt/comfort #natasha x y/n #natalia romanova #natalia vodianova #black widow x y/n #black widow x reader #black widow x female reader #black widow x you

[scarletssienna]

Beggin' for Footnotes

Summary - Some things aren’t meant to last forever. And despite you and Wanda loving each other you’re not sure if it’s going to work out anymore. 4.0k word count

Warnings - Hurt (not much comfort), heavy angst, swearing, mommy Wanda, oral, fingering, face slapping, sub!reader, degradation, praise, begging, dom/sub dynamics, aftercare, hair pulling, mean Wanda, edging, face-sitting, thigh riding

AN - This is my first post on here! I’ve done writings in the past but I thought I’d try a new format and space to post it! :)) I plan on continuing this if I can find the energy lol!

Part 2

18+, minors + men dni

Not every love was supposed to last. No matter how great, how wonderful, sometimes things still end. You knew Wanda like the back of your hand. And she knows you all the same. So when one of her vices came up after one of your worst fights, you could only watch. Wanda stood out on the back porch. Cigarette between her two fingers as she stared off into the darkness. There was this empty sickening in both of your stomachs that this may be the end. At this point, all options and solutions had been exhausted. You knew it was time. You watched out the kitchen window, unable to tear your eyes away as she slowly inhaled before a large cloud of smoke dissipated into the air, the cold temperatures enhancing it. Your fingers squeezed the sponge from the sink as soapy water flooded between your fingers. The dishes had been long forgotten lately as neither of you had had the energy to wash them. This was unusual for Wanda as she liked to keep the house showroom ready at all times. You forcefully ripped your eyes away from her as you began to wash the dishes, trying to make up for anything you could. To fix what you could in this messy situation. 

The house that had once been so loud with laughter and joy now lingered in empty silence. Your playlist of every song you two had loved played softly over the speakers around the house. If it had been several months ago you would have pulled her closely in your arms, dancing around the kitchen despite her laughs and teases about how cheesy it was. Her nose would crinkle as you sang along in Sokovian to one of her favorite songs. You butchered the pronunciation, but you would try, she could tell. She would have given in eventually and threaded her hands in your hair as she rested her forehead against yours. You would have kissed her, kissed her as if she was going to leave the second you let go. In this reality, she very well might.

You watched out the window again for a moment before getting distracted by the dish you were washing. The knife in your hands harshly tore against your flesh and you quickly dropped the knife into the sink, a soft yelp leaving your lips. You backed away quickly as blood began to drip down your hand. It was a quick scramble for the kitchen towel as you tried to stop the bleeding. Wanda had always been there to comfort you when you were injured in the past. You bit the inside of your cheek trying to stop it as tears quickly began to fall on your face. You let off a soft sob as you abandoned the dishes, heading upstairs to your shared bedroom. Hurrying into the bathroom you discarded the bloodied towel onto the sink countertops and washed the wound before messily bandaging it up. You had never been very good at doing it yourself so Wanda had always insisted on caring for you but you didn't think that was very well an option at this point. 

Tears flooded down your face as the events from the night tore your heart into shreds. You were no longer crying due to the injury. It was a different kind of pain. You stumbled over to the bed and threw your pants onto the floor before climbing into your side of the bed. The sheets were quickly pulled up to your chin as your hand covered your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sobs. Quickly, you drifted off into a tired and pained sleep. 

When Wanda returned inside she hadn't expected to see dishes washed especially as she investigated further and saw the drops of blood on the floor and a bloody knife in the sink. Despite the fight, she still cared and loved you. She quickly rushed upstairs in an attempt to find you. When she noticed the door slightly ajar and silence in the room she quietly peaked her head in. She sighed relieved when she saw you asleep in bed, seemingly uninjured from her view. The smell of cigarettes covered her and she wandered quietly off to the bathroom to take a shower, shutting the bathroom door behind her. For everyone but you her walls were high. She hardly let anyone in. and when she did, it felt as if it always ended this way. The feeling of being cursed towards relationships had set in. She washed her hair, going over the fight in her head as she wondered what could have gone differently, how she could save it. If it was even worth it at this point. 

Tensions had been rising over the past couple of weeks. You both had been working too much recently and had hardly had time for one another. It seemed as if every day was the same. Wake up, go to work, sleep, repeat. It had been killing you both. The littlest things set you both off. It would end up in screaming matches and sleeping alone every time. What set you both over the edge this time was not so little. Natasha, your mutual friend, had begun flirting with you. While she respected your relationship, she had always believed you two were not good for each other. So when you fought last week and you ended up at her house she had done nothing but comfort you. You thought nothing of Natashas' intentions but Wanda knew otherwise. This had sent her into a fit of rage when Natasha dropped you off this morning and kissed your cheek goodbye. 

You both fought for hours, arguing about anything that came to mind, but mainly Natasha. Had you understood and been able to read her mind as well, you would have understood her intentions and sided with Wanda, not seeing Natasha anymore. But you couldn't and this frustrated Wanda. When she attempted to control your mind you quickly noticed and this sent you two further down the line of fighting. You hated it when she used her powers on you. When you thought to yourself that you wished you could just forget everything that had happened Wanda broke. She had misunderstood. Thinking you had meant forgetting her. Silence fell over the fight and she went outside to have a cigarette. Her thoughts consumed her as her heart hurt. 

With how often the fights had been recently as well as how busy you've been, you'd not been intimate in weeks. The tension begins to tear you both apart. When she finished her shower she pulled on an old t-shirt and shorts before popping her head out the bathroom door to check if you were still sleeping. When she saw you, she had to determine what to do. Did she sleep with you? Or did she go to the guest room? She decided that you wouldn't want her in bed and quietly tip-toed to the guest room based on what she had misunderstood. That night she cried herself to sleep as well. 

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

When you woke up the next morning you sat up groggily and sighed to yourself as you didn't see Wanda in bed, the memories of the night prior sinking in. Despite your anger you went to see where she had slept for the night, mostly just wanting to make sure she hadn't ended up locked out on the porch freezing to death. You saw her asleep in the guest room, her makeup smudged and muddled from tears, and her shower. You sighed and went back to your room to get ready for the day. It was unusual for you to be up first and you made use of it, quietly leaving for work before she awoke. 

You returned home late that night, having gone to the bar after work with a few co-workers to unwind and relax. All you could think about was Wanda and the ache between your legs grew. You were mad, but maybe you needed that. You quietly entered the house, making a note to lock the door behind you before heading to find Wanda. You weren't extremely intoxicated, but the anger, lack of quality sleep, stress, and tequila were having a bit of an impact. You could tell she had been home for a couple of hours, the discarded takeout garbage by the trash. Suddenly she caught your eye outside on the back porch. Of course, she was smoking again. You thought to yourself before acting on impulse. You went to the door and harshly pulled the sliding door open. She let out a startled gasp that didn't happen often as she always seemed aware of your presence. 

“Get inside.” You said firmly in a tone that had been unusual for you to take on with her. You had always been the more submissive in the relationship. The words shocked you both a little. She obliged anyway, out of more surprise than anything. She put the cigarette out before coming inside. You shut the door behind her, looking into her eyes before quickly pressing her against the door in a bruising kiss. She yelped out of surprise before kissing back, her hands tangling into your hair. She ignored the taste of tequila on your lips as she knew she tasted like cigarettes and couldn't defend herself for that. 

You made quick work of snaking your hand underneath her shirt, groping her chest as your tongues began to fight. She had never seen this level of dominance out of you. While it surprised and intrigued her, she couldn't have it. You both knew you were just trying to get a reaction out of her as it had been entirely too long since you two had done anything together. Her hand tightened with a grip of your hair as she roughly pulled your head back, quickly beginning to kiss and nip at your neck. You let out a moan as she tugged at your hair, stumbling backward slightly as she pushed you off of her. 

“Upstairs. “ She muttered firmly. You could see the darkness in her eyes and did not question it, quickly moving upstairs to your room. The past few weeks your dynamic had been shallow and lacking. You both needed rules in life. You need a guideline to follow, and she needs an outlet of control. When you got upstairs you looked around the room, taking several deep breaths before going to crack a window to get some airflow. Your jaw clenched as you took a few deep breaths trying to focus on relaxing. You closed the curtains forcefully, a little too forcefully perhaps as they, along with the curtain rod came tumbling down. Your heart sank as tears filled your eyes, threatening to fall as you knew Wanda would be mad. As you heard her footsteps approach you quickly tugged off your shirt, tossing it in a pile alongside your discarded pants. You had already dug your grave and it was getting deeper. Thoughts raced through your head about what punishment would come. The more you thought the more your legs pressed together for any kind of release you could gain. Just as you sat down on the bed the door swung open. “What the hell was that?” She asked. Her voice was angry and her accent began to peak through her words as she spoke. Her head quickly turned and noticed the window. “Did you do this?” she asked in almost a patronizing tone. She knew you did it, the guilt on your face was obvious. 

You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth as she spoke, gnawing on it nervously as you considered your options. Slowly, you shook your head, the hesitation clear as tears brimmed your eyes. She walked over to you, one eyebrow raised in a way that she knew made you weak in the knees. She raised her hand before a loud echoing slap hit your cheek. You let out a moan and pressed your legs together harder as tears finally fell.  “Lying gets you nowhere. I'll ask you again, Detka.” she paused, faining tenderness as she wiped a tear away from your face. “Did you do this?” every word she spoke was drawn out and stern as she raised her eyebrow and held your chin in place, forcing you to look into her eyes. Slowly you began to nod, bracing yourself for the slap you knew was about to come. When she raised her hand a slap did not come. Instead, she giggled at your flinch and reached down, snapping your bra snap on your shoulder. “This is what happens when little girls try to do things that are too big for them,” she spoke slowly, making sure each word sunk in. “You didn't even have time to fully undress for Mommy.” she shook her head and snapped your bra strap once again before pushing you to lay back on the bed. She climbed on top of you, straddling one of your thighs as she ground her hips, working herself up. 

“Please Mommy,” you whined out softly as your hips raised into her, begging for any amount of pleasure you could get. Another slap fell hard across your cheek and you felt your thoughts slowly drift further into a fuzzy headspace. You moaned at the feeling. Her hand was wet from the tears that had fallen down your face and she made it a point to wipe her hand on your bare stomach. 

“I didn’t permit you to speak. Did I?” She asked firmly as she leaned down, kissing and nipping at your neck. You shook your head frantically as you struggled to keep your hands by your sides.  She slid her hands back up your stomach and muttered under her breath. “Good girl.” Before pulling your bra down to reveal your breasts. She wasted no time as she quickly kissed down towards your chest, taking the small bud into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around your nipple as her hand snaked down into your panties, finally touching you where you needed it most. She gasped dramatically and pulled her head up, locking eyes with you when she felt your wetness. Your face turned a deep shade of red as she proceeded to tease and taunt you for how wet you had been at her from only just slapping and teasing you. All of your thoughts were consumed by her in a fuzzy bliss. 

Without warning she slipped two fingers inside of you easily. Her fingers made quick work of pumping in and out, stretching and curling them just where you needed it most. You moaned loudly and wrapped your arms around her back, pulling her body closer to you as you hid your face in her shoulder, biting down softly on the tender flesh. This depicted a soft moan from Wanda as her hips jerked slowly against your thigh. She pulled her body back with a grin as she began to bite softly across your jaw. 

“Let me see your pretty face baby. I want to see you while I fuck you.” She said her fingers worked faster, her thumb reaching up to touch your throbbing clit. You blushed red as you looked into her eyes. The moon was shining through the window casting a moonlit glow across her face, a smirk forming across it. Just as quickly as she worked you up to an orgasm, she stopped. She pulled her hand away quickly and you found yourself frantically reaching for her wrist as your hips jerked underneath her.

“No! Mommy!” You yelled out exasperated as tears fell quickly from your eyes at the loss of sensation. She smirked down at you, her tongue slowly licking her lips. 

“You didn't think I'd let you cum that quickly after what a brat you've been the past few weeks little girl?” She asked in a patronizing manner as she pulled her hand out of your panties and brought her fingers to her lips. You moaned at the sight, her tongue licking her fingers clean, making a show of the process. Her fingers then slid into your mouth and you groaned at the taste of your arousal mixed with her. Your tongue swirled around her fingers as you proceeded to suck her fingers. 

“Please Mommy.” was all you could seem to muster out after she pulled her fingers out of your mouth. Your mind was clouded and fogged and just where Wanda wanted it. 

“Silly me,” she smiled as she looked down. “Mommy has been giving you all the pleasure, she completely forgot to undress.” she motioned towards her clothes before standing up. You groaned and reached for her when she stood, no longer touching you. You let out a soft murmur as your hands grabbed at her shirt, pressing your legs together. She stripped before walking back towards you. She tugged your panties down your legs and tossed them towards the pile of clothes before doing the same with your bra. You couldn't help but notice the wetness that had soaked Wanda's panties and now glistened her thighs. Your mouth watered at the sight as all you wanted to do was taste her. 

You knew how often you had fought lately and how the arguments left you due for punishment. You just weren't exactly sure what form it would take. Anticipation flooded through your body as you looked up into her eyes, your eyes wide and innocent. 

“You're going to eat me out until I cum, maybe then I'll give you what you want,” she stated firmly as she squeezed at your hips. Her touches were not gentle. Her fingers dug into your tender flesh, all of her anger, stress, and tension coming out onto you. You moaned at the touch, more sensitive and aware with each touch and mark she left across your body. She let go with a slap to your thigh and you groaned at the loss of her. You sat up and watched as she moved around the room, sitting on the bed in the middle, spreading her legs for you as she watched with dark eyes. “Come make Mommy feel good.” Her voice dripped with arousal as her words of encouragement enticed you further, not that it took much at this point though.

Quickly you moved and settled yourself between her legs. You slowly began kissing up her thighs, licking the path of arousal she had left for you. She grumbled impatiently above you, clearly already ready for attention where she needed it. Her hand snaked through your hair, gently at first as it stroked your scalp. She then grabbed a fistful, tugging your hair harshly as she forced you up higher, pushing your head between her legs. At the tug, you let out a loud moan as you cursed under your breath. You got the hint and stuck out your tongue quickly getting work between her legs. Your tongue licked up her slit before it brought fast attention to her clit. You brought your fingers up and slipped two fingers inside of her. You were kinder than Wanda had been to you, moving your fingers less harshly and aggressively. It worked nonetheless as she quickly rose to an orgasm with the combination of both your fingers and tongue. Her grip on your hair did not loosen as her hips began to jerk against your face. As she reached her peak she let out a loud moan, her hips moving frantically as she tugged harshly at your hair. The taste that hit your tongue made you moan as you quickly lapped up as much as she would allow before pulling your head away. 

Her chest rose and fell heavily as she caught her breath, a gentler hand moving to your neck. You leaned up her body as you kissed her passionately. When her tongue slid across your bottom lip and your mouth you eagerly allowed it entrance. A smile grew across her face as she pulled away. You whined at the loss but it was quickly relieved when she pressed a singular finger to your lips. 

“Mommy.” You moaned out as your hips began to grind against her stomach. Her hand snaked down her stomach to touch you, her fingers ghosting over your clit. 

“Come sit on my face Detka.” She said firmly as she adjusted her positioning, letting your thighs rest next to her head. You were hesitant yet eager as you slowly lowered yourself down, moaning loudly as her tongue finally made contact. Your hips jerked against her face as you ground against her tongue. You were worked up quickly, faster than ever as she seemed to know exactly where you needed it. She mumbled out from underneath you as she worked you up towards an orgasm. “Beg for it, Malyshka.”

Quickly words began to tumble out of your mouth as desperation to cum was needed. “Please, Mommy. Please!” You practically yelled as your hips jerked more, her nails digging into your thighs. “Please let me cum.” You begged. She complied with a grin.

“Cum for Mommy, Detka.” She said as her tongue moved rapidly beneath you. Instantly you reached your peak, reaching for the bead frame in front of you to steady yourself as you moaned loudly. When Wanda felt you had settled enough she gently pulled you down next to her and into her arms. You shook a little in Wanda's arms as she held you for the first time in weeks. Her fingers tangled in your hair as she slowly combed through the mess she had made, taking time to massage your scalp. All the thoughts of your fights had completely melted away and you were consumed by her and her embrace. 

“Mommy.” You murmured as tears began to fall on your cheeks again, your face nuzzling closely in the crook of her neck.

“You did so good baby, so good.” She praised quietly as she kissed behind your ear. Her fingertips found a gentle pattern of scratching up and down your back with one hand while the other massaged where she pulled your hair. Praise was whispered into your ear as she held you closely, not wanting to let go. Never wanting to let go. Slowly your sobs calmed and you settled into her embrace, slowly lifting your head to leave soft kisses across her jaw and neck. 

“I love you, Wanda.” The words left your mouth for the first time in weeks and a soft smile crept across your lips. Wandas' face glimmered with love as she pulled you into a kiss. 

“I love you too, Detka.” She whispered through kisses as she could only hold you closer. After a while of the silent embraces Wanda's thoughts of the fights crept back into memory. “We’re going to be okay.” She hesitated and looked towards you. “Right?” She spoke softly, her voice filled with fear at the thought of losing you. You nodded and kissed her softly, your mind foggy and cloudy as all you wanted was to be close to her. That night you slept close, tangled up in each other's love, neither wanting to pull away.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

The next morning when you woke up snuggled up in Wanda's arms felt different. The bliss that usually followed had dissipated and all you could think about was the pain of being with her. You gained a sinking pit in your stomach as guilt and fear coursed through your body. The flight response kicked in. You couldn't be with her, not now. Tears began to fall as you quickly but carefully left the bed and Wanda's embrace. Hurriedly you moved for some clothes as you threw on the closest things you could find without waking her. You reached for the door handle but paused. One glance back to Wanda confirmed it. You couldn't be here. So where did you go? Who greeted you with open arms? Natasha.

#wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #marvel #wanda #mommy wanda #smut #hurt/comfort #angst #wanda x reader #wandavision #natasha romanoff #natasha x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wandanat #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maxmoff x y/n

[lots-of-pockets]

Unconventional comfort

Pairings: Natasha x you

Words: 1379

Warnings: This contains nursing. It is not s*xual in any way but it is slightly unconventional hence the warning. If you don’t like it or do not have anything kind to day, please move on. Thank you

Summary: You had accidentally - and thankfully, managed to provide Natasha with a comfort and closeness she'd always been denied.

It wasn't rare for Natasha to have nightmares. Due to her past, they were kind of expected. Every night at around the same time, you'd be abruptly awoken by a muffled cry of fear coming from the spot just next to you. You'd rouse almost instantly, desperate to sooth her but not daring to touch her in fear of how she'd react. Sometimes, she'd manage to bring herself out of it.

She'd wake up only briefly before seeking you out with a soft whimper of both fear and confusion, and you'd pull her into your arms, sooth her back to sleep with a gentle hand grazing over the bare skin of her back.

Other times, you weren't so lucky.

There was one time, just a few short months ago that she'd had one of the worst nightmares that exists to date. It had started with her shifting in place slightly, eyebrows furrowed as she lets out a small whimper.

But then it had progressed into quiet cries that had slowly risen in volume until they could be perceived as literal screams of terror. In the midst of your own fear and panic, you'd instinctively made the mistake of trying to wake her.

It was just a touch. Barely even a graze of your finger against her skin. But it was enough. She'd violently shoved you away from her with that could only be described of cry of unbridled rage. Her hands had reached for your throat, and you were sure they would have reached their destination if it hadn't been for the sleepy disorientation still clouding her hazy, tormented mind.

With a skill you didn't even know you possessed, you had managed to haul her thriving body into your arms. You'd situated yourself against the headboard with her between your legs, both your arms and legs pinning her body to your own. She'd screamed. She'd thrashed and swore and called you every name under the sun. But you hadn't let her go.

Eventually, she'd seemed to realise you wouldn't be letting her go and was quick to slump into a defeated lump in your arms.

You'd adjusted her slightly so she was more or less cradled, her legs curled up against your hip whilst her head had come to rest against your chest. Your own arms had secured her to you, gentle hands brushing the sweat soaked hair out of her face whilst gentle coos of comfort had escaped your lips.

Her hands had risen to take ahold of your shirt, silently clinging, pleading even, not to let her go. She was sniffling quietly, eyes drooping and quietly pleading for sleep. But she refuses to allow it, and you don't dare force her.

As Natasha had laid there, cradled in your arms like she was no more than an infant, she'd reached for your hand and had coaxed it to her face. You had understood her silent implication, tenderly cupping her cheek and grazing the pad of your thumb over the still damp skin.

What happened next had been a complete accident.

Due to being half asleep and rather uncoordinated, your thumb had slipped down slightly and had grazed over her bottom lip as opposed to her cheek. Natasha, seemingly close to sleep as well, had simply reacted upon instinct. Her lips had parted, and she'd accepted the pad of your thumb into her mouth without hesitation before beginning to suckle.

You'd stared down at her in awe, too scared to move and disturb the serene look of complete content that had slipped onto her features. It had felt like seconds and hours all at the same time before the current predicament it had simultaneously clicked for the both of you.

Like she had been set on fire, Natasha had pulled away from your thumb. Her eyes had ripped open, irises full of both embarrassment and humiliation. She'd looked up at you with a look so full of fear it was almost as though she was waiting for you to belittle her.

But you couldn't and wouldn't ever do that.

Before she could even begin to rip herself out of your arms, a strange sense of calm had settled upon you and you'd found yourself gently coaxing her back to your chest. She'd complied warily, and not a word was spoken between the two of you as you had once again trialed the pad of your thumb over her bottom lip.

Her hand had risen to timidly cover your own, and as she'd continue to stare to at you with a look so heartbreakingly full of fear, you'd gently parted her lips and coaxed the pad of your thumb back into her mouth.

Whether it be instinct or something else entirely, she'd begun to suckle almost instantly, her whole body going limp with what could only be described as relief. Her eyes had fluttered closed, and with your free hand, you'd traced gentle circles over the small of her back.

*

It was on the third nightmare of the week that the dynamic had shifted a little. You'd been undoubtedly exhausted after just getting back from a two day stakeout with Clint and Yelena, so when Natasha has woken with yet another nightmare, you'd simply pulled her into your chest.

She had seemed placated. She'd gone quiet and still, laying there on her side with with her head buried between your breasts. You had just begun to drift of to sleep again when what could only be described as a whine had escaped her lips, and though your body had protested, you had gone to sit up so she could have access to your thumb.

But one simple action had stopped you. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, she'd latched on to the swell of your breast over the material of your shirt. Her suckles were gentle and consistent, the heat of her mouth leaving your shirt slightly damp. You'd stared at her, stunned, and almost entranced at the sight before you.

It had taken only moments for everything to seemingly fall into place.

Natasha would always pay careful to your breasts during intimate moments. She'd almost worship them, in a sense, and she'd said many times that they were one of her favourite things about you. As you watched her mouth move, you'd come to the realisation that letting her suckle would be the same thing but with a slightly different context.

You hadn't allowed yourself to hesitate as you'd pulled off your shirt, shuffling up the bed slightly so that your breast were level with her head. Cupping the flesh, you'd grazed your nipple over her bottom lip, and just like the many tunes before, instinct had her latching on without hesitation.

You felt the hot air of her content exhale before you'd heard it, and with a hand on the back of her head to keep her close, you'd settled back into your pillow, feeling more than seeing her soft suckles against your skin.

It was pleasant feeling, but not in an pleasurable way. More so it was soothing, and before you knew it, you felt yourself falling back to sleep too.

*

What occurs on those bad nights was never brought up between the two of you. In fact, if it wasn't for the occasional awkward glance sent your way from Natasha, you would have assumed you'd dreamt it.

You didn't necessarily mind, because you knew how hard it was for Natasha to open herself up and allow herself to be seen in such a vulnerable yet intimate way. But a part of you did wish she would at least acknowledge it so you didn't feel so alone.

Thankfully, you knew wasn't because she regrets it or didn't like it. Each gentle tug at your shirt after every bad dream proves that. You just wish she knew it was nothing to be embarrassed about and hoped one day, that would be the case.

**

I hope you enjoyed 🩵

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #soft natasha romanoff #hurt/comfort #nursing #marvel #fluff #natasha x y/n #unconventional #your name

[villainboygirl]

This scene breaks my heart.

Loki is cleary on the verge of a panic attack, traumatized, struggling to breathe... and Mobius reassures him, gently telling him that everything is okay🥺🥺

#loki #marvel cinematic universe #loki series #mcu #mcu loki #love #tom hiddleston #loki season 2 #marvel #loki season two #loki spoilers #loki 2x01 #lokius #mobius m mobius #mobius #owen wilson #hurt/comfort #fandom ships #ships #loki laufeyson #panic attack #lgbtqia #lgbtq #friendship #disney #disney plus

[wandasfifthwife]

birthdays ✩‧₊˚

— hockey!wanda x fem/afab!reader

all you’ve ever known is a skipped birthday, a missed celebration. your first birthday since you’ve started dating Wanda rolls around, what would happen if she forgot it too like your mother did?

tw: HEAVY TOPICS, discussions of past trauma (physical/verbal abuse, parental neglect/control, manipulation), established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst w/ HAPPY ending, discussions of thoughts spiraling (r wonders if W loves her anymore), R’s coping style is to separate herself, NOT PROOFREAD

a/n: this is the fic that won from this poll (it “won” at whatever it was at when I checked it after my exam)

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.2k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

The only time you can remember having your birthday celebrated was at school. It was the closest thing you had to a birthday anyways. The little goody bag your teacher would make and the birthday song sang to you by your classmates. Though your mother never showed up to parent lunch, or gave you presents, or even acknowledged your birthday—you still blindly thought she was a good person then.

If you had done well in school, at practice, and at home—she’d gift you with new ice skating equipment. Something she was going to give to you anyways, but tried to do it as positive reinforcement as a kid. The other positive reinforcement she gave just so you’d get in the ice? A form of alone/bonding time with her. She’d only discuss what was necessary, eyes strayed away from your own.

You were so blind to her manipulation, getting you into the sport only for her to use it as a weapon against you. There were times you enjoyed the sport, but it’s hard not to think of your mother when you enter on the rink since you’ve spent most of your childhood with her on it.

Once she got arrested and you were moved to live with your older brother—he tried to celebrate your birthday. For a few years you wanted to forget about it and you had, you never celebrated it except for your brother’s family leaving notes on your desk when you had stayed with them.

And now today was your birthday.

You had gone to bed with a slight twinge of hope in your heart that a birthday spent with your girlfriend would be different.

It was 7:43AM, in seven minutes Wanda would be reaching to turn her alarm off. You usually don’t wake up this early, used to sleeping in while Wanda left for practice, but today you couldn’t help it. You had been wondering how she’d greet you when she woke up. What a birthday would be like with someone who loved you.

She looked surprised to find you awake after she turned her alarm off, puffy eyes widening just a bit.

“Woah, what’s got you up so early?”

You smiled, “nothing.”

“Hmm,” she pressed a kiss to your forehead before throwing the sheets off of her, “I’m not complaining.”

You felt giddy almost, a childlike joy overtaking you. Would she take you to dinner? You’ve heard that’s what couples do at work. Or would she take you somewhere? Would she give you a gift?

“I have practice until later today, but I should be back tonight—like 1PM?”

“Okay,” you chirped from under the covers, excited to get another kiss from her before she wondered into the bathroom to put her hair back. It only takes her a minute, throwing her jersey on loosely and pulling her bag over her shoulder, her keys jangling as they hang out of her pocket.

“Be back later, love you.”

“Love you.”

It made your heart twinge just a bit at the fact that she got up and left without saying anything. Maybe mornings weren’t the normal time to say happy birthday yet?

You spent time doing work from home, finishing tasks your boss assigned you to do. It made time fly and before you realized it was almost 12PM. You were about to get ready for the day but stopped when you received a text from Wanda, telling you that she won’t be back until later.

That’s fine. She’s probably just picking up something. It felt selfish, all of these thoughts felt self-centered. This day shouldn’t be about you, you shouldn’t expect it, but here you are. So you put off getting ready, wanting to be freshly put together when Wanda came through the door.

1PM turned to 3PM and 3PM turned to 6PM.

You received a few texts from your phone, seeing family and a few work friends wish you a happy birthday. It mattered, but it didn’t satisfy the way your heart was breaking. She would remember, she’s not your mom—she’s above ignoring such a day.

You know she cares, so why in this moment are you beginning to question everything? Heart turning from glass to stone as you recall memories, ones usually sweet, and overthink her words and actions as hatred. Maybe this whole time shes been showing how much she dislikes you but you’ve been blind to it just like how you had been with your mother.

It was dinner time now, and you’ve seen videos on social media and heard on the grape vine that couples go out to a nice dinner on a special event, such as a birthday. This could be a surprise, maybe when she got back she’d be dressed and ready, driving you to your favorite place.

She hasn’t yet called to texted you, giving you the idea that she’s coming home soon like she said she would be. You took the time to get ready, enjoying every minute for once until you were dressed nicely. You found yourself on her couch, waiting while scrolling on your phone.

You checked back and the time read seven.

After watching TV, the time read eight.

Until nine, until ten, until your phone lit up the room with her contact information. You let it go to voicemail, not wanting to let her know about how you’re crying in front of the bathroom mirror.

It’s ugly, dry heaving cries filling the bathroom. Each one making your throat and head hurt just that much more. Your heart ached. You felt naive, stupid to believe someone would genuinely love you. Turns out on your birthday she would leave you alone.

You decide to sleep, guessing Wanda wouldn’t be back until way later at this point. You had hoped to avoid her but by stepping out of the bathroom you walked right into.

“Oh!—oh.”

You know she can see the glimmer on your cheeks, how your eyes are all puffy and bloodshot. You felt choked seeing her. She’s in a different outfit, hockey back still slung behind her like you’ve become familiar with.

“What’s wrong—?”

“Nothing,” you say, brushing past her to quickly grab the pajamas you wore this morning and shutting yourself in the bathroom again. She had apparently left to take a phone call from her dad, thankfully giving you space to calm down, collect yourself, and crawl into bed. Now lying in her bed feels weird; it doesn’t feel like home as much anymore. Fear grew in you at the thought, what if she’s going to kick you out soon? You’ve heard that happens when relationships fall apart, and the pain you felt thinking that sentence over took you.

You tried to stop the upcoming crying session, pressing your hands into your closed eyes or staring at the ceiling. You’ve had heartbreak, just not one with a relationship, it’s be a new kind of pain. Sharing intimacy with someone only for them to use you in the end.

The door creaking, signaled Wanda’s presence. She sighed seeing how you’ve turned away from her, sitting on her side to lean an arm and rest it on your thigh.

“Hey love, how are you?”

“I’m fine.”

You ignored her attempts to console you, and in a really really strange way you congratulated yourself—you weren’t able to do this with your mother and you saw how that ended up.

But oh how you wanted to turn around and hug her, hear her heart beat as you lie on her chest, feel her press a kiss to your cheek and tell you everything’s going to be okay. Once you hear her breathing even out you let out a few more tears, already missing Wanda even though she’s laying right behind you.

The next morning Wanda’s shocked for a different reason. You wake up at a normal time, but you’re complete off. She’s decided that maybe you need space, maybe something happened that you’re just keeping to yourself and will tell her later. She’s not just decided, she’s hoping because she can’t stand to see how you’ve been. You’re a shell of it. You don’t kiss her back, you’ve stopped engaging in conversation, and you barely look at her.

It’s now been two days since your birthday and Wanda’s grown increasingly worried. You’ve always climbed in bed, back facing hers for the third night in a row and it’s enough for Wanda to pull up your brother’s contact, raising her phone to her ear after hitting the call button.

“Hey, this sounds very intrusive, but has something personal happened within the family recently?”

“Uhh no—why?”

She explains how you’ve been, how sudden and drastic of a change your mood has been.

“Can you tell me what day you remember her starting to drop?”

“Two days ago.”

“I’m not going to assume you did because I fucking hope this didn’t happen. Two days ago was her birthday Wanda, is there—?”

His voice trails off as the room freezes. That’s why you were up early, full of smiles and joyful expressions. That’s why you’ve become distant, looking uncomfortable any time she expressed her love.

“Oh no. No, no, no, no, no—“ she mumbles, tears growing in her eyes, “shit—I forgot. I forgot. I don’t know how, but I did.”

“Shh, hey calm down,” your brother says over the voice, tone stern and light, “this doesn’t take away my frustration with you, but calm down—you’re not going to get anything done with a heart rate of 120. Apologize and make it up to her. You really don’t even have to do much—you can literally just get her a small gift and wished her a happy birthday and she’d be over the moon.”

“No—no, she deserves more than that.”

“She does. The intention of what I just said was to show how low the bar was set. She’s not had a ‘birthday,’ Wanda—so anything you could’ve done yesterday would’ve meant the world to her.”

“It would’ve and I’ve done nothing,” she says and he agrees.

“Yes. But I know your intentions, I know you’ve just forgotten—but she doesn’t. Just make it up for her, be intentional and loving and she’ll come back around.”

So that’s what Wanda set to do. It was late but she still left, driving in her car to the nearest cheapest store to grab decorations. It started with decorations before it moved to gifts before it moved to cake. She set out to create a basic birthday day for you.

It was a sight to wake up to, finding balloons on your ceiling and streamers hanging around her apartment. She was downstairs with your family, your brother smiling and recording you once you’ve begun to walk out from her bedroom.

“What—?”

“Happy birthday.”

You take in everything as best as you can with how your eyes have begun to grow wet, blurring your vision. It looks like the photos you searched on wiki as a kid of what a birthday decorated room looked like. Your brother continues to hold the camera poised on you, emotions overcoming him and his wife. The entire time Wanda’s been standing in the corner, growing nervous when your attention lands on her.

She’s holding her arms out wide when she saw you take a few steps towards her. You’re wrapped up so tight in her hold; your deep cries breaking her heart all the more.

She coos, “I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

“You set all this up for me—when did you have time,” you ask, voice squeaking from how sore your throat has become.

“It is all for you, I stayed up late last night to set this up.”

And her efforts didn’t go to waste. You wonder just how much money she burnt through last night seeing what she had bought. Your brother had an itinerary, moving you around to each event.

You had to stop and cry multiple times—feeling grateful and also a little bit embarrassed about being so emotional over something so minor to most people. The whole time they kept validating your feelings, full of understanding and kind words to help you get along. There was your favorite food, dessert, presents, and your favorite people.

Once your brother’s family had to leave—saying something about having to get Tyler to hockey practice since he has a game coming up soon—Wanda pulled out another gift.

“I thought of you when I saw this,” she said, taking out the necklace to place it around your neck. It had the word, “loved,” on it, diamond encrusted and small.

“Why’d you think of me?”

“The man asked me to choose out a necklace with a saying that made me think of you. I wanted you to have something that reminded you of how loved you are.”

You begin to tear up yet again, laughing dryly as you try to wipe away the tears, “I need to stop crying, I’m going to get a headache.”

“I’ll just take care of you if you do.”

“You’re so cheesy,” you laugh more, but you thank her with a squeeze to her arm.

“I’m serious though. I’m really sorry for not treating you the way you deserved on your birthday. I love you, and I’ve never been this serious about anyone before.”

“I love you too,” you say, kissing her back when she leans to kiss you; feeling like your hearts begun to be placed back together when you feel her wipe away at your tears.

series m.list ✩ ══╡˚2.2k words˚╞══ ✩ wanda m.list

#competing series #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #Wanda x afab!reader #wanda maximoff fic #marvel wanda #wanda maximoff x you #Wanda maximoff x afab!reader #marvel wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #Wanda #wanda mcu #wanda marvel #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #Wanda fic #Wanda fanfiction #Wanda fluff #wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #marvel women x reader #marvel woman #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff fluff #hurt/comfort

[wild-lavender-rose]

Monster

Pairing: Loki x frostgiant!reader

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: In the midst of battle you’re horrified to discover that you are none other than a frost giant. Loki comforts you. 

Warnings: Intense grief, shock, description of battle violence

Note: This is a short little scene I’ve had in my drafts for several months. It’s not my best writing by far, but I hope you enjoy <3

     You screamed, the sound ricocheting throughout the castle hallway. You did it again and again, your knees crashing to the floor and your hands pulling your hair. This was not happening. It could not be happening. 

     “My darling,” Loki’s voice sounded through your screams, his arms wrapping around you from behind. You pushed against his embrace, screams turning to strangled pleas. “Let go of me, please! You will be hurt,” 

     “No I won’t, darling. No I won’t,” Loki shushed you, rubbing his hands up and down you arms as he rocked you gently. “Hush now, hush.” 

     You shook your head and continued to sob. Your hands were trembling, waves of blue rippling across your skin. You had gone with Loki and the others to aid Thor in his attack against the Frost Giants, fighting by Loki’s side. In the midst of the battle the pair of you had been separated and a Giant had got you alone. 

     He had broken through your armor and and grabbed your wrists, only instead of icy pain you felt nothing more than the pressure of his grip. Looking down, you had watched in horror as your skin rippled and changed, becoming the exact color of the Frost Giant’s skin. You gasped and looked at the Giant, only to see him regarding you with a smirk.

     Loki had stepped in then, killing the Giant. You had tried desperately to hide your changing skin, but one look into Loki’s eyes and you knew he had seen as well. Without a word he touched your arms and caused gloves to appear on your hands, hiding the change. They had stayed in place throughout the rest of the battle, up until you had pulled them off while running down the castle hallway. Now you were here on the floor sobbing and frightened, while your beloved husband strove to comfort you.

     “What-What’s happening?” You cried, gripping at Loki’s sleeve. “I don’t understand,”

     “I don’t know.” His voice was choked with his own tears. “But I promise you it will be all right.”

     “I, I’m going to hurt you.” 

     “You could never hurt me, beloved.” Loki’s lips pressed against your forehead as he rocked you. “I promise.” 

 Fanfic Masterlist

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfic #marvel loki #loki marvel #loki fanfiction #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki whump #loki hurt comfort #loki series #loki fluff #frost giant loki #prince loki #god of mischief #loki x frostgiant reader #marvel hurt comfort #marvel whump

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the unveiling

buttercup, chapter five

a/n: I mean, I just had to make him wear the black suit.... (said in a foreshadowing way)

summary: you only mustered two steps down the stairs before you spotted a surprising, yet familiar masked man sprawled out on the living room floor, unconscious and bleeding.

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, the black daredevil suit, injuries, kissing, dirty talk, fingering, protected sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms

word count: 3236

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Your eyes fluttered shut a moment as you felt the cool night breeze caress your features. You hadn’t bothered with a coat, so it was simply a woollen blanket you clutched around your pyjamas. 

Jumping slightly, you whirled around as you heard one of the doors up to the rooftop creak open. 

“Oh!” you clutched your chest as you discovered the identity of the intruder, “it’s just you.” 

“Hey,” Matt closed the door that led directly down into his loft. 

“I was just about to call you actually, or knock on your door, but then I figured that you were probably asleep,” you eyed the dark sweatpants he wore as well as the t-shirt that clung to his brawny arms as he stepped closer to where you stood, a vision that caused sinful thoughts to stir within your mind, “how did you know I was up here?”

“Uh, I didn’t,” his touch found your lower back as he reached you, “I just heard a noise.”

“Well, it’s just me,” you turned your gaze back to the night sky. 

Tilting his head, he checked, “you okay?”

“Yeah, just couldn’t sleep,” you nodded, “but I’m okay.”

His eyes twitched slightly as the faintest of smiles threatened at his lips, “so you didn’t wanna call me because something was wrong.”

“No…” you bit down on your smile, “I was just thinking about you…” the smug smirk that then bloomed on his face caused you to instantly chuckle with regret, “oh, that came out sounding a lot more dirty than I intended it to,” the meaning behind your words had been dirty, but he didn’t have to revel in it. Curling his arm around you, his laughter mixed and mingled with your own as you soon exhaled, “man, I should probably head back to bed soon, try and give sleep another chance. I just–, urgh,” you let out an adorable groan and buried your face in his broad shoulder, “I don’t wanna leave now that you’re here.”

“I mean, you don’t have to, if you don’t want,” he suggested, his tone staying on the lighter side as to not build up any pressure, “you’re welcome to come sleep in my bed if you want to.”

“O-oh,” your gaze fluttered up to flicker across his face, “alright, sure.” 

Stepping inside and descending the creaky staircase, the living room was lit up in bright fluorescent shades of lavender by the huge billboard directly outside. Letting the blanket around you drop to the coffee table, you eyed Matt’s dark bedroom before his hand found yours. 

“What side do you prefer to sleep on?” you asked as you neared the dusty grey linens adorning his bed. 

“I’m fine with either,” his fingers gently brushed across your knuckles before you let go of him. 

“Alright,” you slipped in under the silky covers on the side of the bed nearest to you. As he crawled in on the other side, you drew in a sharp breath, “well,” tugging your knees up further towards your chest, you didn’t dare to twist and look at him even though you wished for so much more than a glimpse, “goodnight, Matt.”

His knuckles briefly found your back, caressing it just for a second before he uttered, “night.”

You had never been further from slumber than you were lying there in Matt’s bed. Just the knowledge of him resting right behind you had you hyper-aware of everything. Lying as still as a rock…your ragged breathing… your wild pulse… but mostly the throbbing between your thighs…

Turning slowly to lie on your back, your hand came down to rest on the mattress but landed instead on Matt’s gently closed fist. Instinctively, you yanked it back, recoiled from his warmth just a second before you carefully let your fingers shyly slide across the covers to find him again. The coy dance beneath the duvet was playful till his digits unravelled and welcomed yours. 

“…Matt?” your voice came out no louder than a whisper. 

“Yeah?” 

Glancing over at his visage in the darkness, you asked, “are you very tired?” 

With a gentle smile blooming on his lip, a soft shake tilted his head from side to side against the pillow, “no.”

Curling closer, his arms tangled around you in an instant. When your lips brushed against each other at first, for a while it was just this sweet and slow midnight kiss, nothing more, nothing less. But when you nuzzled in nearer, the simple peck grew into something much more heated. 

Your leg curled up over his hip, gliding it lavishly against him as his tongue slid across your own. His strong arms felt so incredible around you, but you wanted more, you needed more. 

On an exhale, he rolled onto his back, but you weren’t quite sure if he had dragged you with him or if you had clung to him, perhaps a mixture of both. All you knew was that now you were sprawled out on top of him, completely melted against his chest as his lips were still locked with yours.

When you adjusted yourself slightly and shifted down further, your hips instinctively rolled enticingly as you settled atop of his growing hardness, already straining against his sweatpants and desperate to be hugged by your warmth. He let out a low groan as his wide palms slid down the length of your spine and over the curve of your ass. 

Parting briefly, you breathed, “Matt?”

“Hm?” he hummed as his lips nipped at your jaw. 

“You sure you’re not tired?” your eyes threatened to flutter shut. 

“I’m sure,” his hands slid back up to your waist as he let his kisses fade.

Blinking down at him in the darkness, you felt as if your heart could burst out of your chest at any moment, “do you wanna, maybe–, uhm… you know…”

“Do you want to?” his thumb soothingly circled your side and your hips unintentionally rolled once more. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. 

Your confirmation caused a smile to tug at his lips as he uttered, “okay.”

“Can I–…” your teeth briefly caught your bottom lip, “can I take your shirt off?”

A warm chuckle rumbled within his chest as he nodded lightly. Sitting up, your frame followed along as you didn’t shift to get out of his lap. As your fingers dug into the soft cotton of his t-shirt, he let you pull it off of him yourself. 

You couldn’t make out too many of the fine details that decorated his physic, but perhaps that was a good thing, perhaps that’d make it easier. You could always study every millimetre of him later. Right now, the dim vision of him the night granted you was more than enough to turn you into a puddle. 

Running your hands over his bare skin, they only stayed a moment before straying away from the warmth to yank your own top off. 

One of his hands swiftly soared up and gently caught one of your boobs. A shuttering moan flew from your lips, inadvertently letting Matt know that his intuitive move wasn’t unwelcome, allowing his assurance to grow as he permitted his caresses to move more freely. 

Seizing your lips as he softly squeezed your peak, his kisses then began to migrate and dance down the column of your neck till they reached your tits, his palm cupping one closer to his attentive mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered as his lips enclosed around one of your pebbly nipples, his tongue swirling over it before he nipped, causing your core to clench around nothing. 

You couldn’t help but stuff a hand into your pyjama pants and offer yourself an ounce of relief. 

Gliding his touch down to your bottom, his fingers fleetingly dug into your ass before they slid up to your hips, hooking his digits in the fabric. And with his face still buried in your tits, littering the soft skin with hickeys, Matt slightly tugged at your waistband, “do you want these off?”

Your answer came out sounding breathy, “yes,” before you stopped playing with yourself as he then helped pull both your pants and the soaked underwear beneath them off. 

As you settled back down into his lap, he pulled you in and seized your lips. Fingers finding your glistening folds once more, his soon joined yours, digits briefly weaving before your own touch began to falter and you let him take over entirely. 

Your head tilted back when he eased a finger inside of your creamy cunt, your juices swiftly coated his digit and dripped down his hand as he caressed you at an overwhelmingly slow pace. His touch made you feel as if you were floating on a cloud and you were already so far gone that when he filled you up with another finger, dreamily giving your eager pussy just a little bit more, you tumbled over the edge. 

Eyes only half open as you watched him curve down to plant soft kisses all along your ribs, both of his solid arms wrapped around you and keeping you up as you panted, “do you have a condom?”

“Yeah,” he murmured, “you wanna keep going?”

“Please,” your fingers then tried to push down the remainder of his clothing, “I wanna feel you,” he swiftly aided your efforts and slipped his dark sweatpants off, “I wanna feel all of you.”

Reaching a long arm over into the nightstand’s drawer, Matt fished out a little foil packet. Your foreheads joined and pressed up against one another as he rolled the latex on. 

His fingers grasped onto the base of his girth, silkily stroking himself as you supported your wobbly balance on his broad shoulders, steadying yourself as you raised your hips further up. Reaching a hand down, your touch met his as he teased his tip against your puff, nudging at your swollen clit before parting your petals in a lush motion. Your palm briefly floated up to your mouth and collected a dollop of saliva before you lowered it back down, only taking a second to glisten his throbbing cock up with it before you dragged him down towards your entrance. 

“Oh my god…” you moaned shakily as you slowly began to sink down upon him, shallowly at first as his arm tightened around your waist to support you, “fuck…” 

Trailing his other palm up your quivering thigh, he groaned, “that’s it, take your time,” before his fingers settled where you united, “fuck, you’re doing so good,” he rolled your clit slowly under his calluses, your nectar dripping down his length as you gradually slid further down.

When his dick eventually settled so deep within you that you thought the night sky would appear on the ceiling of his bedroom, you pressed a breathless kiss to his lips. 

As you gave his shoulders a slight push, his frame rested back down against the mattress and you followed suit. Tits smooshed down against his chest, his fingers had disappeared from your puffy pearl as you just stayed there a moment, frozen as you took in the staggering sensation of what he felt like buried so deep inside of you that it made you lightheaded.

“This,” you uttered thickly, “this is what I thought about earlier,” your laboured breaths fanned across his face, “and you wanna know what?”

“What?” his answer flowed from him swiftly.

A smile bloomed on your lips as your hips began to roll, “my imagination couldn’t even come close to how amazing you feel.”

As you found a gentle pace, a low moan escaped Matt’s lips as the details of his cock dragged against your silky walls, “christ, sweetheart,” he couldn’t help but buck up into you, an instinct that earned him a lewd whimper of approval.

Keeping up his own efforts, you briefly stole a sloppy peck from him before your spine straightened back up and you established a new and intoxicating rhythm. 

“Fuck, that’s it, there you go,” he grunted as you rode him, the majority of his length never strayed from the warmth of your pussy as you electrically rolled and rocked atop of him, “atta girl,” his fingers dug into your hips, “god, you feel so good, fucking perfect.”

As your fingers lowered to find your clit, the bouncing pace you’d found slowly began to waver as you felt yourself begin to near the end once more. Your form then collapsed back down against his as your hips tried and failed to keep up the same euphoric pattern you’d found before. 

But as soon as Matt’s hips thrust beneath you, effortlessly hitting a molten spot deep within you that you’d barely managed before on your own, all of your brief worries melted away. 

“Matt-,” your face smooshed against his chest as you panted, “h-holy shit!”

Holding your hips steady, he ravenously bucked up into you, “please keep making those noises for me, sweetheart,” his low growl harmonised with the lewd melody of his desperate efforts, “you sound so fucking good.”

As you felt your pussy clamper around him so hard it nearly halted his movements completely, your fingers sought out your nipples in a harsh pinch, trembling above him and crying out as you came undone. 

With how tight your cunt clenched down around his throbbing girth, even if Matt didn’t wish for the marvellous moment to end just yet, perhaps fantasise about dragging it out till the sun rose, he couldn't help it as your pussy milked him so perfectly of all of his worth and he joined you in the boneless tangle of satisfaction. 

Sluggishly, you clung to him, utterly melted atop of his frame even as he carefully pulled out and nimbly snaked an arm between your limp forms to peel off the spent condom and toss it. 

His chest rose and fell with every deep breath beneath your head as he eventually asked, “how do you feel?” 

Letting yourself ponder a second and uncover the answer through your haze, you only found yourself thawing further down against him as you let your eyes flutter shut and uttered, “safe.”

Rain hammered against the windows as you rushed out of the door. The sun was nowhere to be seen yet, but your day had already begun. 

As you locked your front door with a dull click, a worrying thud halted your feet from scurrying along. 

Whirling your head around, you glanced to the source of the concerning crash, at your neighbour’s door, before slowly walking up and letting your fist softly collide with it. There never came an answer, not even when you tried again, that time more forcefully.

Unable to shake that unsettling concern off of you, your feet carried you up to the roof and the apartment’s emergency exit. As your fingers enclosed around the cold knob, you momentarily snapped yourself out of your unease.  

Maybe something wasn’t wrong. Maybe Matt hadn’t hurt himself and desperately needed help. Maybe, even though your ears had interpreted the sound as something troublesome, it could have just been that he wasn’t alone, that perhaps you weren’t the only girl he let into his bed, perhaps one more prone to making a ruckus. 

Either way, it wasn’t under any circumstances appropriate for you to not only invade his privacy, but literally break into his home, yet you still found your fingers slowly twisting the door handle. 

Just one peek. If he didn’t need someone to call for an ambulance, then you’d slip right back out, even if whatever the true cause was broke your heart. 

You only mustered two steps down the stairs before you spotted a surprising, yet familiar masked man sprawled out on the living room floor, unconscious and bleeding.

You scarcely breathed as you slowly neared him. Even in the low pre-dawn light, you were able to make out the slashes that tore up parts of his black suit. Carefully, you kneeled down beside him as your eyes scanned over his wounded frame. 

You had to do something. The vigilante had saved your life, so the very least you could do was repay him the favour. 

Spotting a trickle of crimson drip down from beneath his black mask, streaking down across his gruff jaw, with a trembling hand you pulled the mask further up to get a better look at how grave the injury was, only for you to discover who was hiding behind the disguise.

“…Matt?”

Settled on the couch and with a dark blanket draped over him, only covering some of the scars the darkness hadn’t let you spot previously, Matt stirred awake. 

From one of the armchairs, you hugged your knees closer to your chest as you uttered, “hi,” your voice came out sounding small and fragile.

Freezing up, Matt’s head tilted toward you, “Y/n?” he cautiously spoke, “what–… when did you get here?”

“A few minutes before Foggy did,” his friend had shown up, concerned out of his mind when Matt hadn’t answered his phone after recklessly throwing himself into a stupidly dangerous plan. He’d stayed a while, for as long as he could till he eventually had to leave, “I heard a noise, thought something was wrong and you needed help…”

“You–… you know…” he stated, and you just let your crushing silence confirm it, “…did you patch me up?” 

“No, that was a friend of yours that Foggy called–, Claire I think, but that was a while ago. You were out cold for a really long time,” you averted your gaze and stared down at your hands, letting the silence momentarily consume the space before you hesitantly opened your mouth once more, “…how do you–… Foggy tried to explain to some extent, but how do you–, how do you do it?” 

“It’s complicated,” he said slowly, letting out a hushed groan as he carefully pushed himself up to a seated position. 

“Complicated, how?” 

A low exhale flowed from his lips before he uttered, “…I know that yesterday you worked with strawberries. You didn’t eat any, but I can still smell them beneath your fingernails from when you cut them up… I know you’re hungry right now and the only thing you’ve eaten since breakfast was an apple a bit ago. I can still taste it off your lips… and I know that me telling you all of that is making you uncomfortable… because I can hear your heartbeat… but I’m not scaring you.”

Blinking back at him, you saw your chest rise and fall rapidly in your periphery, “wow… I mean, Foggy did say that your senses were sharp, but that–… I can’t fucking believe it…”

Bowing his head lightly, his jaw clenched, “you have every right to be angry–”

“Angry?” you repeated, your eyes growing wide, “Matt… it’s you. It was you…” tears began to blur up your vision, “did you–… did you know who I was when I moved in here or was that first when I told you about that night?”

Staying quiet a moment, he eventually nodded, “yeah. I knew… I am so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? Matt,” rising from the chair, at an instant, you’d crossed to his side and sat down on the couch beside him, “you helped me, you saved me. That was you. You’re–…” hands drifting up to carefully cup his scruffy cheeks, you uttered, “you’re him.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

#lea’s writing #buttercup series #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock imagine #matt murdock x fem!reader smut #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x you #daredevil x reader #matt murdock series #matthew murdock x reader #matthew murdock smut #matt murdock angst #matt murdock hurt/comfort #marvel smut #matt murdock fluff

[yourmidnightlover]

the sun

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?

warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

wc: 2.6k

a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!

you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.

tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.

6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.

half of the world, gone in a moment.

in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...

sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.

this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.

"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.

"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.

she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.

a positive pregnancy test.

you were having bucky's baby.

without bucky.

you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.

they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.

god, it hadn't even been two months.

how were you supposed to do this alone?

"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.

eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.

"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."

you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.

"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.

"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."

"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"

"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"

-

you knew you were around eight weeks along.

according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.

bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.

banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).

you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.

within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.

in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.

you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.

as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.

he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.

"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."

steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.

you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.

she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.

just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.

you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.

he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.

he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.

he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.

truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.

in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.

oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.

and within the week, you were having your baby.

steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.

"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"

"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.

"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...

"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."

-

the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.

crawling, first words, first steps...

you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.

but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.

you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.

how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.

not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.

you never took off his dog tags, either.

steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!

you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.

banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.

then, you got a call from tony and banner.

it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.

of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.

the only thing is that nat never came back...

next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.

is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?

then, you felt a buzz in your hand.

although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.

shocker.

after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...

but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.

he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.

when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.

"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."

"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."

you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."

his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.

within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.

"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.

upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.

"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.

his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.

meeting you. falling in love. dying?

his son.

he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.

"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.

"i love you so much, both of you."

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes #marvel #sargeant barnes #bucky #sargeant james barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes whump #bucky x avenger!reader #bucky x fem!reader #dad!bucky

[lovelettersforthedamned]

Pleading Through The Bathroom Door

--genre + trope: hurt/comfort, college!au, angst, slight fluff.

--pairing: college!tasm!peter parker x college!f!reader

--word count: 1.9k

--summary: after ignoring Peter's suggestion not to go out tonight, you run into a situation that makes you wish you heard him out.

--warnings: alcohol, language, throwing up, violence, creepy drunk guy, descriptions of a minor injury, reader wears makeup, angst, a little bit of fluff at the end, peter just wants to help:((.

--gif credits: @marlosrph

As you make your way back home through the brisk air of New York City in the fall, you pray to whoever was up there that Peter won’t be home when you get there. You loved him so much, but the thought of him seeing you in this ruffled state made you want to turn around and head back to the dinghy club you came from. Even though that was the last place you wanted to be, coming face-to-face with your boyfriend seemed worse. 

He begged you not to go out tonight, and you ignored him. One of your friends, Mariah, was having a hard time with her now ex-boyfriend, and what kind of friend would you be if you didn’t help her take her mind off of things? 

The night started well, after a few tears shed by your friend, she was ready to party. It was her night to call the shots, you were just the moral support in the background. Because it was just the two of you, she never left your sight, especially in the state she was in. Her body was moving so carelessly. With her messy dancing and a drink in her hand, the last thing on her mind was the shitty breakup she endured. You were happy for her, for letting go and enjoying herself. 

As the night progressed, her body language was clearly betraying her words. She told you over and over again that she was fine, and that she swore she was okay. Just a few moments after those slurring sentences, she was pushing her way through the crowd to hunch over and empty her stomach into the nearest trash can. Making your way next to her, you bunch her hair into a ponytail and rub her back as she continues to hurl. She turns her face to look at you, tears spilling out of her eyes, “I’m so sor-sorry, (Y/N).”

“Hey babe,” slowly lifting her back up, “It’s okay, it happens to the best of us. C’mon, let’s go home.” 

Her apartment was not even three blocks away, so you decided to walk there. She seemed to have sobered up quite a bit after she threw up, and the water from the corner market you stopped by helped as well. The walk home was uneventful, you two were mostly silent but picked up conversation when you were getting closer to her apartment. As you make it to the front steps, you watch her walk in and close the door behind her. A sigh of relief leaves your mouth, knowing that she made it home safe was enough to lift a slight weight off your shoulders.

That moment of peace is quickly stolen from you when you realize you have to get yourself home safe too. It’s only a few blocks away, so it should be fine. Moving your feet towards the direction of your apartment, you suddenly feel a presence behind you. Picking up the pace and turning a corner, you realize that there is someone behind you. A taller man, definitely bigger than you, makes direct eye contact with you as you look over your shoulder, an ugly grin rising to his face. Your entire body went rigid as you picked up the pace. Reaching a hand towards your purse, you pull out your phone, hoping to call Peter. What you’re met with is a black screen, it’s completely dead. Placing your phone back into your purse, you start to make unnecessary turns, hoping that the man tailing behind you was just some sick coincidence, you hoped that he was just headed home as well. 

The footsteps behind you become louder, and before you can comprehend the distance between you and him, a calloused hand grabs your arm and pulls you to the ground. Stalking his way towards you, you quickly get back on your feet and walk backward as quickly as you can. “C’mon sugar,” his words slurring, “come with me back to my place…you’ll have a good time, I promise.” He’s evidently wasted, so wasted to the point where he’s swaying where he stands. He reaches out to you again, trying to grab you by the arm again to drag you to God knows where. This was all you needed for you to reach for the pepper spray Peter got you a few months ago. At the moment, it seemed silly. Your boyfriend, Spider-Man, was giving you an obnoxious-colored can of pepper spray to defend yourself. Now standing in front of a drunken idiot about to lunge at you, it didn’t seem silly anymore. 

He was more than close enough for you to spray the liquid at him, and as soon as you did, he hunched over, doubling in pain as he shouted profanities towards you. You took this as your opportunity to run as fast as you could, and you did. The overwhelming fear of being handled again coursing through your veins remained as a motivation to keep moving.

 You’re still a little drunk as the feeling of paranoia heightens every time you look back behind you. One more glance over your shoulder was all it took when a piece of uneven pavement caught your toe, and you came face to face with the concrete once again. There’s a burning pain on the palms of your hands, along with a pulsing feeling spreading its way from the open wound on your knee. 

Trying to recollect how you got into this situation in the first place plagues your mind and keeps you occupied until you’re met with the front door of your apartment. As you make your way up the stairs, the possibility of Peter being home ignites a wave of anxiety through your bones. There’s a slight hesitation when you come face to face with your front door, you take a deep breath in before you grab your keys and unlock the door. 

Peering in, there are no signs of Peter, a breath of relief and a wave of sadness overcome you. A part of you wishes he was here to help you, his mere presence was always enough to make the worries of the day leave your system. 

Turning on the harsh light of the bathroom, your eyes strain at the sudden burst of cool light. You try not to make eye contact with yourself in the mirror as you reach down for the medical supplies box under the sink. After you have placed everything on the small bathroom counter, you set yourself down on the lid of the toilet. With shaky hands, you open the container and pick out some things you need to fix yourself. As you reach for the box, you notice a discoloration on your arm, roughly the same size as the man’s hand. 

As if right on cue, you hear the god-awful sound of the creaky window open, followed by a soft thud of Peter hopping down to the floor. “Fuck,” you curse to yourself as you run to the door and lock it quickly. 

Walking towards the kitchen, Peter can see the light in the bathroom is on, signifying that you made it home before him. “Hey baby, you’re back early,” he reaches for the handle to find that it’s locked. His brows furrowed in confusion.

You clear your throat, “Ye-yeah, Mariah wasn’t feeling too good, so we left early.” You shake your head in defeat, even after clearing your throat, your voice still shaking. 

Peter’s senses picked up on your unease and he reached for the handle for the second time, twisting it this time, “You alright, (Y/N)?”

A spark of panic, he knows something’s up. You ditch patching yourself up, messily putting the supplies back into the box. There’s no grace while you put everything away, you just need to clean up as fast as possible. While reaching for the gauze, you knock over the bottle of rubbing alcohol, “Shit, no I-I’m good. I’ll be out in a second!”

After hearing more clatter, Peter starts to worry, “Bug? Open the door.”

You’re overwhelmed, understandably, after everything that happened tonight along with the pressure to come outside, you break down in tears. “Peter, I swear I’m fine,” a broken sob escaping your shaking form, “I got it.”

“Please open the door, baby,” he pleads, in the softest voice imaginable. 

Finally giving in, you unlock the door and pull it open. The first thing Peter sees is the state you’re in. You’re hunched over on the floor on all fours, trying to clean up the mess you made. The makeup he watched you apply, is now smeared across your face as fat tears run down your cheeks. The second thing he notices is the bruise forming on your arm, a silent worry lost in his throat. He very slowly makes his way to you, not wanting to panic you any further, and gently lifts you from the floor, grabbing the supplies as well. Guiding you to sit on the bed, he places himself crouched in front of you, still in his suit. Not saying a word. 

Your breath is labored, and your shoulders are slumped. Not daring to make eye contact with him. Taking a look at your knees first, he grabs a cloth to start cleaning the angry raw skin. What scares you the most is that Peter is not speaking. Breaking the silence, you mumble, “I’m sorry.” 

Peter’s head snaps up to look at your face, still looking down at your hands, “Hey…What are you apologizing for?”

“You told me not to go out,” you take a wavering inhale, “and then I ignored you. Then this happened!” Your voice raises, and you’re getting upset with yourself. 

“I don’t know what happened, and you don’t have to tell me right now, but whatever happened tonight was not your fault. I only told you not to go because it’s way too cold outside to go out, bug. And never ever am I going to play the ‘I told you so game’ with you.”

You didn’t know what else to say, or even if you were able to say anything. What you knew was that you needed to be around Peter. Before another second passes, you lunge into Peter’s arms, wrapping your own around his neck. The sheer force of your hug would have sent both of you to the ground, but Peter balanced himself before you ever touched the ground. 

You both stay there for a while, eventually, Peter’s hand reaches up to rub up and down on your back, calming you into a relaxed state. “Can we go shower,” you ask, “I have that gross club smell on me.”

A relieved laugh leaves Peter, “Of course we can, smelly.”

You playfully hit his shoulder, as he lifts the both of you off the ground. As you make your way to the same bathroom you were crying in just a few minutes prior, you know that everything’s going to be alright, as long as Peter is by your side.  

You fell asleep that night to the warm comforter surrounding your figure, along with Peter’s heartbeat fluttering in your ears. The thoughts surrounding tonight could wait, at least until morning. 

--author's note: hi guys!! needed a little hurt/comfort because the weather is getting chilly, and it's getting darker outside:I...im currently working on the asks you guys have been sending me, and they're smutty as hell. you guys are horny asf, DAMN. don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging!! my asks/inobx is open, so send me anything!!! ok, bye ily<33.

#andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker #peter parker x reader #marvel #fluff #spiderman #tasm!peter x reader #college au #tasm!peter parker #peter parker hurt/comfort #peter parker angst #tasm!peter x you #tasm! peter parker x reader

[queers-gambit]

Damage Done

prompt: The Winter Soldier is activated and Bucky's lover is unlucky enough to be in proximity.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 5.4k+

note: oh, wow, Cherry wrote Bucky NOT in a Mafia AU?

warnings: takes place during Civil War, absolutely no plot - author just doesn't know how to shut the fuck up. cursing, violence, established relationship, small angst, injury, blood, hurt and comfort, Winter Soldier antics, choking, abrupt ending, maybe domestic violence? it's the WS.

it's really not that bad, it's not terribly descriptive but still tread carefully if triggered by these topics.

"Keep them together," Agent Everett Ross commanded, a little man with a raging Napoleon Complex, gesturing at you and Bucky; the latter held in mobile, restrictive captivity. "He doesn't play nice if he doesn't see her, or so it's said," his eyes rolled.

"You're making a huge mistake!" You barked, struggling in the restraints they had you wrapped in.

"No, I don't think so," he sneered, approaching you as Bucky's unit kept moving. "I think the mistake was letting you out of anyone's sight. Tell me, how long have you been in cahoots with the Winter Soldier?"

"He's not the Winter Soldier anymore, you jackass, he's a person! A real, live human being! His name's James but he prefers Bucky! He likes plums," you were yanked away, still snarling, "his favorite color is blue, likes motorcycles, he has real guilt over his past transgressions, and you've got the wrong guy!"

"Oh, right, like you're the best judge of character," Ross laughed.

"Natasha! Nat! Fucking tell him!" You pleaded, struggling in the hold of the men who kept iron clad restraint on you and were starting to drag you away. "You've got the wrong guy! Bucky didn't do this! I wouldn't lie - not to you, Natasha! Tell him!"

"That's touching, really sweet," Ross mocked, rolling his eyes as you were finally overpowered and lead away.

"Hang on a second," Nat muttered, sharing a look with Tony. "Was her DNA or facial recognition anywhere at the UN? Anywhere near where the bomb was set off?"

"What's that matter - "

"Since they met, they've not parted ways," Nat spelled out. "He won't go anywhere without her - you, yourself, are keeping them together for interrogation - "

"It's just easier," Ross scoffed.

"No, you know..." She blinked in confusion, "You know, Bucky won't talk unless she's there - you know he'll be ten times as difficult if she's not in the room."

"So?"

"So, in the past two years, have you heard about him without her? Have you seen her without him?"

"Nobody's seen or heard from either of them," Ross shook his head.

"Exactly," she nodded, lungs tightening with nerves. "If you can't find evidence of her being in Vienna... Bucky might not be your guy... Besides, they're both trained to avoid cameras - "

"Mistakes are made," Ross waved off.

"Not by two highly trained assassins like them," she snapped. "Check the files, go back - look! Actually look, run her scans through facial recognition - if you don't find her, it wasn't Bucky."

"You're so sure?" Tony asked skeptically.

"I know her," Natasha nodded, "better than anyone. She's as good as my sister, she's as good as blood. I know her. I know she wouldn't run this risk - "

"Then you also know she wouldn't get caught," Ross laughed.

"Neither would Bucky."

The silence stretched, but Ross was stubborn; sneering at the Avengers and taking his leave with his own plan of action in mind. He left Tony and Natasha to deal with Sam and Steve as he went to observe the interrogation. When he got before the monitors, he watched as it took four different men to restrain you enough to hoist your locks up the wall until they were clicked in place by ultra-strength magnets.

You jostled, feeling the full extent of your containment, grunting when the pipe you were connected to shocked your entire system into submission. Everett Ross smirked at your pain; watching your tongue swipe over your teeth, arms high above your head, readjusting your weight in your feet, but otherwise, not moving.

Ross heard Bucky ask quietly, his eyes watching you carefully from inside the reinforced cell, "You okay, doll?"

"Looks like they learned from last time," you grit, the cuffs around your wrists electrified; charring your skin, making you grimace slightly in a veiled attempt to hide your pain from your lover.

"Don't fight, you'll make it worse," he advised softly, frowning, eyes glassy from restrained emotion.

"They could've at least put me in a bit more comfortable position," you sneered, glaring up at one of the cameras, shaking your head as if in disappointment.

"I don't think they want to play nice, sweetheart."

"Yeah, could've guessed that from when they arrested us," you shook your head, puckering your lips to gather the blood in your mouth; spitting it to the floor. "You good, baby?" You asked as the men who restrained you moved to plug in the power cell caging Bucky.

He nodded silently at you, bowing his head and letting his long locks curtain his face. You frowned, shifting again as you blindly felt your cuffs and designed a way to get free; watching the men stoically as they exited the room to make way for the psychologist. Your jaw clenched, the air smelling foul - alerting you that something wasn't quite right.

"Hello, Mr. Barnes," the accented man greeted casually, standing at a single table in front of Bucky, you off to the side; chains rattling as your defenses flared. The psychologist smirked and greeted you, too, assuring your real identity was known - something that Natasha released to the world about two years ago when HYDRA sent Bucky after Cap in DC. You didn't fault her, in fact, you respected her move, and after getting out of the blown-to-shit base, you had run into the Winter Soldier... Beginning your epic love story, both of you on the run from authorities and higher powers.

You smuggled Bucky out of the country, using fake aliases that had yet to see the light of day and therefor, wasn't released in the files Nat published during her takedown of the compromised S.H.I.E.L.D. agency. He was appreciative, pondering how he was meant to go forward in a world he didn't know; so, you agreed to stick around for a bit to help settle him, and that bit turned into a couple of years - the two of you inseparable.

There was an incident in London that almost exposed you, but instead, it just shined a light on your new partnership. Captain American, Nat, Sam, shit - even Tony Stark himself was unable to catch up; your trail going cold, Nat knowing your Widow training was running the show and keeping you safe. Granted, she probably could've unraveled the web you had weaved - but the truth was, she didn't want to. So, she kept quiet. Leading you all here...

"I've been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you both," the man you'd come to know as Helmut Zemo continued; playing his part very well, but not well enough to convince you of his innocence. Something about the man rubbed you the wrong way. "Do you mind if I sit?" He asked politely, feigning like you two had a choice. When he did, Zemo continued, "Your first name is James?"

He noted the way Bucky and you shared a look, both remaining silent. Zemo tried to assure, "I'm not here to judge you - either of you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?" Continued silence, your head subtly shaking - an act only Bucky clocked. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James."

"My name is Bucky," he croaked, your sigh echoing around the room.

"Hm," Zemo nodded, "I take it, she doesn't want you to talk?"

"She wants me safe," Bucky answered stiffly.

"That is admirable," the psychologist offered kindly, "a great display of love, is it not?"

"Jesus Christ," you shook your head, offering a glare, "you went through all that schooling to ask stupid fucking questions? Might wanna get your money back."

Zemo chuckled after humming, "I am merely trying to establish the connection you two share. I hear it is rare to find one without the other, that you two have become, uh, joined at the hip?"

"I protect her," Bucky offered, sharing a long look with you, "and she protects me."

"An equal partnership, would you say?"

"Yes."

"Buck," you warned, wrists twisting to hold the cuffs; being zapped, making your jaw clench and the veins in your neck to bulge.

"It's all right," his voice sounded like it was being put through a grater. "We're caught, doll, it's all right."

You huffed, eyeing Zemo as his eyes flickered between you two. He nodded, making a note in his little book, "I was warned that you would be unwilling to cooperate without her present. Why is that?"

"She keeps me safe."

Zemo hummed, "So you've said, and yet... Here you both are..." You were ready to lash out, but the doctor changed course, "Tell me, Bucky. You've seen a great deal, haven't you?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Your restraints zapped you again when you jolted forward as if to physically silence Zemo, Bucky's head snapping over and his eyes drooping in sympathy. "Told you not to move, it'll only get worse," he told you softly.

"He's asking questions that will get him killed," you snarled, gritting your teeth as the electric currents seized most of your energy. But it was worth it, finding a little weak spot and letting your mind devise a specific plan.

"You fear," Zemo continued, "that if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. I feel it is safe to assume, uh, your lady is privy to your past experiences? Perhaps, you two have shared a couple?"

"Just leave her out of this," Bucky pleaded.

"Don't worry," he assured you both, tapping something on his tablet before looking back at Bucky with a sick recognition. "We only have to talk about one. One mission... That I know you," he nodded at you, "were not present for."

"Kinda game you playin', Doc?" You sneered. "Think anything he says will change my opinion about him?"

"No, no, I know your relationship is too strong for that," Zemo smiled. "So, it's not so much what he will say... But what he will do..."

"The fuck does that - "

But then, the lights went out; darkening the room save for the lights individual to Bucky's holding cell. You perked up, the electric currents halting as the cuffs died with the power and gave you an opportunity to begin working on your escape. As red panic lights flickered, Bucky questioned, "What the hell is this?"

"Why don't we discuss your home?" Zemo offered. "Not Romania. Certainly not Brooklyn, no," he reached into his satchel, revealing a red notebook the world thought long lost... Buried in snow... Forgotten in time. "I mean, your real home," Zemo removed his glasses as you frantically started working.

"No, no, no, no, no, hey, hey, hey, don't - fuck!" You grit, trying harder to free yourself. "Bucky - Bucky, don't listen - ah, Goddamnit!"

The man you now understood to be a fake psychologist stood with a little flashlight, opening the red notebook, and began repeating words in Russian that would activate the decommissioned Winter Soldier. Bucky had told you all about these words, begging you to provide a shield against them should they ever be uttered again; but you had prior knowledge, the Winter Soldier someone you had been debriefed on during your time with other secret agencies.

"Longing."

"No," Bucky whispered, head tilting back in panic as he felt his stomach curl in a familiar pattern.

"Bucky - don't fucking listen, please!" You begged, still working to free yourself.

"Rusted."

"Stop," Bucky pleaded, sounding in pain.

"Don't do this!" You pleaded to Zemo. "You're fucking hurting him, please, stop!"

"Seventeen."

"Stop!" Bucky barked, his vibranium hand clenching in anger and pain; the entire arm whirring from the flex of his muscle. He began to pant, a deep growl emitting above your panicked whimpers.

"Daybreak!"

"You have no idea what you're doing!" You raged, Bucky screaming in pain as his mind was forcibly sunk back into dark recesses of his past. "Don't - Bucky, baby, listen to me - don't fucking listen to him, please, please, baby, don't do this!"

He screamed, breaking free of the iron restraints that kept him seated in the reinforced, mobile cell. "Furnace!" Zemo continued, ignoring the pain and panic you and Bucky were both thrown into.

"Fucking stop, please! You don't understand!" You begged, freeing one hand and working in vain to unlatch the other. Bucky was out of his seat, anger coursing like a palpable rain over you all - him screaming as his metal arm worked to pound into the strengthened glass surrounding him.

"Nine!"

"Bucky, please, baby, please, don't do this!" You tried a new tactic, hoping you were enough to cut through the brainwashing - but how silly to imagine. Decades of trauma was washing over Bucky again and your little words couldn't cut through the barricades of his mind.

"Benign!"

"You stupid fucking little man!"

Zemo rounded around the cell, Bucky still pounding away at the glass. "Homecoming! One!"

"DON'T!"

"Freight car!"

You whimpered in fear when Bucky punched the entire door off the hinges, freeing him at last; but the words were spoken, the damage done. He crouched on the floor, Zemo pausing to take in the sight, slowly approaching Bucky as he stood upright; the jangling of your chains louder and more frantic as you tried to free your last wrist.

"Jesus Christ," you whispered, trying to divide focus between the two tasks of freeing yourself and protecting Bucky - but being terribly unsuccessful as you watched Zemo stand in front of your dead-eyed boyfriend.

What a ridiculous, mundane label to assign someone like Bucky.

In Russian, Zemo questioned, "Soldier?"

And in Russian, the man you loved answered, "Ready to comply."

Zemo demanded in English, "Mission report. December 16, 1991."

You whimpered in fear, listening to Bucky give the report that would haunt you for years to come. Just as he finished, you managed to get out of the cuffs, but the clanging of your freed restraints caught Zemo's attention - who smirked with abundant cruelty. "Don't," you warned, backing out of the room just as officers began to flood it.

It was a brutal fight, trying to stave off Bucky once in his Winter Soldier mindset. You grunted as he engaged you, men dead at your feet - the lucky ones just knocked out. You grit your teeth, trying to defend yourself as Bucky operated mechanically; doing what you could to protect yourself, but it wasn't enough.

Blows landed, punching and kicking one another in an equal match of strength and stamina.

"Seize her," Zemo demanded, and in the next moment, Bucky had you by the neck; an effort that made you wheeze and claw at his bionic hand.

"Bucky," you begged. "Baby - baby - it's me, it's me, please, don't, it's me! Don't do this, baby, please, come back to me. Come back!" You struggled in his grip, trying to pry his hand open, "Baby, please, please, come back to me," spit drooled from your lips as he squeezed tighter. "This isn't you!" You managed to squeeze out, tears surfacing. "Not anymore, don't let them win!"

"Shut her up, Solider," Zemo commanded in Russian, your eyes widening and trying to beg Bucky again before he was sending you into a wall. He marched up to you, grabbing your hair, and surging his balled up metal fist directly into the bridge of your nose, breaking it, head jolting backwards, and effectively knocking you out.

When you came back into consciousness, it was to Steve's worried face; his hands caressing your cheeks and begging, "You all right?"

"Fucking hell," you winced, reaching up to prod the tender spot on your head; revealing blood.

"Got your ass kicked, huh?" He frowned.

"Watch your language, Cap," you smirked, wincing when your face throbbed. "Shit, how bad is it?"

He looked you over, offering, "Definitely a broken nose."

"Goddamnit - where is he? Where's Bucky?"

"Help me," a voice pleaded from the next room, Zemo playing his part by splaying out on the floor like bait.

"Don't trust him, something ain't right about him, Steve," you whispered, waving him on as you sluggishly hoisted yourself up the wall to lean against it. "Kept asking about Siberia, asking about shit nobody should actually know."

"Get yourself safe," Steve told you swiftly, nodding at Sam; who was checking on the status of the other bodies around you.

"Just find him, Steve, he's lost in his own mind - a threat to himself," you panted, slowly standing.

"I know - "

"You don't know," you shook your head, wiping a trickle of blood from your temple, "but you're gonna have to do more than understand him right now, Steve."

"I've got this," he promised, watching you nod and limp away. You had just missed the action, Bucky overpowering both Sam and Steve; getting to a safety landing and running into Natasha, Tony, and Agent Sharon Carter.

"We'll hash our bullshit out later," you panted, "but for now - "

You heard a commotion behind you, flinching out of sight when Bucky made himself known and began taking down rogue agents unlucky enough to stand before the Winter Soldier.

"He have an off switch?" Nat asked.

"Not that I've found," you frowned. "Split up."

Tony tried to engage Bucky first, using a mobile Iron Man device he wore on his wrist that used sonics to disorient Bucky. It only worked to a small extent, the two exchanging a few blows, Bucky firing a bullet at Tony's face at pointblank range that was saved by his technologically advanced glasses. Bucky got the upper hand, sending Tony flying back, letting Sharon and Nat attack.

He disposed of them both easily, stumbling when you caught him off guard and wrapped your legs around him. Normally, you'd do anything to have your legs around him - but this wasn't one of those times. You exchanged several punches, blocking one another, going for disarming hits but being of equal challenge; leaving small cuts and blooming bruises on each other as if to prove the engagement. Natasha rejoined the fight, two Widows showing Bucky up on a few instances, but he was heaving her across the room as you swung onto his shoulders in an impressive acrobatic move.

You heaved your fists down in a repeated fashion on the top of his head, Bucky charging at one of the cafe tables; slamming you down and choking you again with his metal hand. Both your hands held his, legs up around his neck to try to keep him at a distance for relief on your windpipe.

Through a strangled breath, you managed, "You could at least recognize me!"

"Who said I don't?" He growled, reaching out to snap a piece of wood from a chair.

You tried to regain normal breath, wheezing, "This isn't you, baby, you are not this person anymore - you're not a psychotic, robot killer! You're a man - please!"

"You don't know a damn thing about me," he seethed.

"I know everything about you," you strangled, "and I know this isn't you. Come back to me, baby, please! Y-You can't let the demons win, Buck, please - fucking listen to me!" But he only raised the wooden shaft above his head. "BUCKY, DON'T!"

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

You cried out shrilly when he jabbed the sharp wood into your shoulder, staking you to the table just as King T'Challa rushed onto the scene and stole your brainwashed boyfriend's attention. You hissed in pain, trying to yank the wood free but being unsuccessful; resulting in blood to splatter onto the tiled floor.

Hearing someone pant your name, you caught a glimpse of red and knew it was Nat, her face worried over yours a moment later. "Where's Bucky?" You coughed and winced in pain.

"Goin' up by the looks of it," she informed, "now hang on, this is gonna hurt. Want a belt to bite?"

"No, just do it, get it done, please," you panted, bracing yourself, and suddenly, without warning, your companion heaved the piercing shaft free from your flesh. Naturally, you cried out, groaning and clenching your jaw so tight, it nearly crushed your teeth into dust.

"Hey, you seen..." Sam arrived on scene, taking in your injury, "Holy shit, you good?"

"Yeah," you grunted, stumbling to your feet as blood bloomed into a bigger, brighter blemish on your tactical shirt. "We gotta go, Sam, we should get outta here."

"Hang on," Nat paused you two, your opposite hand holding your wound; her hands occupied by a smart device, "looks like Bucky tried to highjack a helicopter. Steve stopped him, but it resulted in them all crashing in the river."

"Shit," Sam breathed. "We gotta go find them."

"We need to get outta here, you know, away from the cops and agents," your head shook. "Get somewhere safe, away from this catastrophe. We'll regroup with Steve."

"Go," Nat permitted, "I won't say a word."

"You're one of a kind, Nat," you praised, pecking her cheek. "Let's go, Sam. And grab that First Aid kit," you pointed to the wall where the white box was mounted. He agreed and you lead the way out of the facility.

Bucky groaned as he woke up, head lulling back before realizing he couldn't move his metal arm; finding it clamped in industrial weights. Sam called you both to attention, but while Steve jogged over, you remained in your place out of sheer distress.

You only vaguely listened to the conversation, hands trembling as your shoulder was bandaged to prevent further injury or infection. You did what you could to patch up any injury, and when you heard your name, you dialed in; Bucky asking, "Where is she? Is she okay?"

"You don't remember?" Sam sneered.

"No..."

"You stabbed her," the Falcon growled.

"What? N-No, I-I-I couldn't've - I wouldn't!"

"You did," Steve confirmed, pity coloring his words. "Punched her out pretty well, choked her, too. Broke her nose..."

"Please - Steve, please, tell me I didn't."

"I'm sorry, Buck."

"That why she's not here? She's in a hospital?"

"Actually, no," Sam trailed, "she's just in the other room."

"She didn't want to come here?"

Steve sighed as Sam informed, "Don't think she wants to see you right now, man."

"I didn't mean to hurt her."

"We know," Steve swiftly promised, nodding his head. "She knows it, too, you just have to give her some time."

Bucky looked utterly defeated, murmuring, "I scared her. Oh, my God, I scared her..."

"Gotta agree with you there."

"Sam," Steve reprimanded. "Look, Buck, she'll come around."

You waited until the two men left Bucky alone to regroup and stratify a new course of action. Slowly and almost sheepishly, you entered where Bucky was being kept, steps silent but he heard you anyways. His blue eyes flashed in concern as he met your gaze, mouth opening and closing as if words failed him.

"Doll," he finally breathed, "a-are you all right?"

"I'm okay."

"Don't bullshit me, how hard did I hit you? Steve said I broke your nose, I-I'm so sorry, doll, please believe me. What'd I do to your shoulder? Is that where I stabbed you?"

"Buck," you sighed, slowly squatting in front of him, "I need you to take a breath and know that I understand you were not in your right state of mind. You were forcibly triggered and sent back into that way of thinking, I know it wasn't you."

"I still hurt you, I still did it."

"Did you, though?" Your head cocked, eyes narrowing slightly, "Because I know my Bucky wouldn't hurt me, would never dare lay a hand on me - but the Winter Solider is a different story. You didn't do this, Buck, you weren't you."

"I can smell the fear on you."

"Well, yeah, it fuckin' scared me. I tried to stop that fake doctor, I tried to help, tried to save you and keep your safe. I'm sorry I was too slow, that I failed."

"You didn't fail anything, sweetheart... I-I failed you, I broke my promise to never hurt you."

"No, you didn't. The Winter Solider did all that, not my Bucky."

He frowned, repeating to ask softly, "Your Bucky?"

"My Bucky - the kind, charismatic, impossibly stubborn, kind hearted man I've loved the past couple of years who always gives me the crispiest fries, who has nightmares, who loves me unconditionally despite what I, too, have done in my past. And you know what I was doing out there while Sam and Steve talked to you?"

"What's that, doll?"

"Understanding that loving someone means loving their flaws, accepting them exactly as they are. So, while, yes, the Winter Solider scares the fuck outta me, he's still part of you and I can't authentically love you if I reject the Soldier."

His head shook "Your kindness is wasted on me."

"I think you should let me decide what's a waste and what's not when it comes to my own energy and emotion."

"I'm just gonna end up hurting you again. You're better off without me, baby, you and I both know you're better off keeping your distance. You should get out now while you still can."

"Not gonna happen. 'Cause you know what else I realized?" You reached up to caress his cheek, "I trust you beyond reasonable doubt, I trust you even if I'm afraid of the Winter Solider. I should've been faster, I should've helped you more, but I was powerless against that red notebook."

"You and I, both..."

You pet the cheek you were holding. "Buck, I know it was scary, I know how it must've felt being forced back into that mindset, but I want you to know that I'm in this for the long haul - you're not gonna scare me off. Because I love you, Bucky, and every single part of you - whether choking me out or not. Whether I earn a broken nose or not."

"I'm so sorry. I-I can't believe I did that, I'm so sorry, I hate that I hurt you. I'm so sorry, baby, I can't - I can't even put it in words how much I regret putting you in that position."

You smirked, "See? The Winter Soldier has no remorse, but my Bucky does." You gingerly reached out to curl his hair behind his ear. "My Bucky apologizes and takes accountability. There's no reason to not love that man - especially when he deserves it so much. Hey? Hear me? You deserve to be loved, too, Buck."

"And you deserve a man who doesn't run the risk of being turned into a psycho killing machine over a few measly words."

"I deserve to love my best friend, so let me do that. Say whatever you want, try to push me away - but I'm like a boomerang, baby, I'll just come right back."

"What kinda man puts his best girl in that kinda position? Who hurts the most important person in his life?"

"A man who endured decades of abuse," you laid your hands on either of his thighs, "a man who wasn't allowed control of his own mind. I can't - no, no, I won't fault you for that, Buck. Today wasn't your fault and I'll remind you of that as often as it takes. Don't you dare feel guilty because you didn't do this to me, okay? You didn't put me in any position - that fake fucking doctor did this, Agent Ross did this, special ops put us here. You, my sweet boy, didn't do anything to be at fault. You were trapped, but look at you now - freed, level headed, talking to me."

His eyes gleamed with a sheen of emotion, staring at the bloodied bandage wrapping your shoulder wound before his eyes danced over the bruising and other aftermath of your injuries. "I could've killed you," he muttered, tears filling his eyes.

"But you didn't - and surprisingly, neither did the Winter Soldier. Maybe there was a part of you still alive, wanting to refuse orders and not actually hurt me."

"Perhaps," he frowned. "I'm still so sorry, doll, I hate that I did this to you. It never should've happened."

Your head nodded, "I know, baby, and listen - I forgive you. Yeah? Hear me? I forgive you, this is in the past."

"Are you sure about me? You sure you wanna do this? Knowing I could flip a switch and hurt you - maybe even worse than today?"

"I'm sure about you, Buck," you agreed. "I don't wanna be without you, so, sign me up for whatever's to come."

"You might regret that."

"The only thing I could ever regret is abandoning you. I don't want to do this without you - I love our life together. In any world, in any lifetime, I'd still choose you. There's nothing that would make me regret you - regret being with you."

"You sure? I don't want to make you do anything out of your comfort."

"I love you, Bucky, yes, I'm sure. No matter what damage you think you might've caused, whatever damage has been done, I promise, that's not the truth. There's nothing about you that I could regret."

"Well, all that's left now is to get to Siberia, stop the other Winter Soldiers."

"And figure out a way to free your mind once and for all... It's what you deserve," you told him softly, rocking to your knees to meet his forehead with yours and caressing his cheek again. When you heard approaching footsteps, you sighed and pulled away from him to stand and turn, spying Sam and Steve. "C'mon, Cap, get him outta this. He's not gonna attack anyone," you requested, gesturing where your boyfriend was trapped.

"You sure?" Sam asked stiffly. "He did a real number on you alone. Not to mention all the other agents and cops he took out back there."

"He's good," you snapped, perking your brows at Steve, "and you two would do well not to throw what happened in his face, it wasn't his fault. So c'mon, free him, he's not a wild animal."

Steve agreed and lifted the machinery from Bucky's prosthetic, him instantly snatching it back and massaging where the joint met metal. Bucky stood with a set stare at Sam and Steve, as if anticipating them to lunge at him. His throat constricted, swelled with emotion when you stepped in front of him - posing barrier between the two Avengers and himself.

"You still got that phone on you?" Steve asked you softly.

"I do."

"Is it still unregistered?"

"You know it is. Who're we calling?"

"Reinforcements. We're gonna need help now that the Avengers will be looking for us. We gotta get to Siberia."

"Here," you agreed, unlocking the device and handing it over. "Who's first on your list?"

"Any Avenger who didn't sign the Sokovia Accords."

When he walked away with Sam again, you turned to face your lover directly; staring into swirling storms of baby blues. "You still with me?" You asked softly, reaching up to caress his hair again to push it behind his ear.

"Always. Got my six?"

"You know I do, baby," you smirked, stepping into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. "We'll figure this out, together."

"Together," he agreed, sighing deeply and returning your embrace tightly. His flesh hand rose to hold the back of your head, bringing his lips down to lay a chaste kiss on the top of your head. His voice rattled quietly, "Thank you..."

"Hmm? For what, handsome?"

"Believing in me. It's nice to think we can end this torment."

You smiled up at him, "You deserve freedom, Bucky, and to live without this haunting fear."

"I don't know about 'deserving' it, sweetheart. Done a lot of things that would argue against that."

"Maybe against the Winter Soldier, but Bucky deserves the world. Deserves kindness, accommodation, love and understanding. Now," you smirked and sniffled, giving his waist another squeeze before releasing and pulling back, "get your head outta this pit and focus, we've got a long day ahead of us."

He agreed, letting you take his hand and lace fleshy fingers together in a tether. Sam's face remained stoic and passive, but when Steve saw you two, he couldn't help but smile. Two years he hunted for Bucky and just today, he's learned his best friend's been shacked up with you - a warmth blooming in his chest over the idea of you two finding one another and loving each other.

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Marvel masterlist

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