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#marvel reader insert
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All assassins need a cat
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summary: since your rescue from the Red Room you had been living in the tower, and it didn’t take you long to realise that ex-assassins simply need a cat 
pairing: Winterwidow x widow teen reader, Natasha x widow teen reader, Bucky x widow teen reader
warnings: cats
genre: fluff
words: 1602
a/n: I really want a cat, so I figured I'd write something short about it :) 
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work
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Living in the Avengers tower had been nothing short of amazing. The people were kind, the food was even better. After living in the Red Room for so long you were overwhelmed with the freedom you were given, and the choices you could make.
You had been in the tower for two months now, and although you liked almost everyone that lived in the tower, you preferred Natasha and Bucky the most. 
They were kind, and because of your shared life experience it was easy to get along with them. They understood you, and there was no pressure in talking to them. You knew that whatever you told them, they would understand. It was comforting. 
However, it didn't take very long before you realised that both Natasha and Bucky owned a cat. 
It happened during a movie night. Natasha and Bucky had sworn to catch you up on all the great movies you missed. While watching the entirety of the Indiana Jones movies, a small, black cat jumped up on the bed, snuggling against Natasha. 
After you asked who the cat was, Natasha explained that she got her after living in the tower for a while. She said it helped her feel better about herself, and her past. 
‘Liho,’ as Natasha told you she was called, took a liking to you rather quickly. It didn't take many movie nights before Liho wasn’t only snuggling on Natasha's lap, but also climbing on yours. 
During breakfast with Natasha and Bucky later that week, you spotted a white cat joining you in the kitchen. It walked up to Bucky and started yelling at him for food. Bucky picked the cat up, snuggling with it for a few seconds before grabbing some food, feeding it. 
“That's Alpine,” Bucky had explained, telling you how he had gotten a cat not long after Natasha did. 
Bucky and Natasha didn't share a floor when they had gotten their cats, but when they moved in together it didn't take long before the cats became friendly with each other. Natasha had told you how you could often find them snuggled up together. 
After meeting both cats, you could often be found cuddling with them. 
When you were sitting in your room, you would leave your door open, allowing the cats to enter whenever they pleased. Often, they would wander into your room, either jumping on your bed or jumping on your lap while you entertained yourself. 
They started following you around the house soon after, always begging for cuddles and kisses. You cheerfully obliged, and it didn't go unmissed by either Bucky or Natasha. 
Natasha had brought up the idea one night, after you had fallen asleep in their room. 
She shared her thoughts with Bucky, discussing how it might be good for you to get a cat of your own. You loved the cats that were already living in the house, and both Natasha and Bucky thought it would be great for you to raise a cat of your own. 
At breakfast a week later Natasha brought it up again.
“How would you feel about getting another cat…?” Natasha asked carefully, bringing up the question casually so as to not make you suspicious. 
“You want another cat?” You asked cheerfully, petting Liho behind her ears as she settled on your lap. 
Natasha nodded. “It might be fun for Liho and Alpine to get another play buddy.”
Bucky nodded along, settling in the seat next to you. 
“Besides, we were thinking, you might like one of your own…” Bucky explained carefully, but your gasp of excitement washed all their worries away. 
“I could get a cat?!” You asked excitedly, watching as Natasha chuckled before nodding. 
“If that’s something that you want,” she explained, sitting into the seat across from you. “I still have the contact information from the same people I bought Liho from. They have another nest and are looking for homes for the kittens,” Natasha told you, biting into her toast.
“We could go have a look if you want,” she finished. 
Another gasp of excitement left your lips. “I could get a kitten? We can go look at kittens?!” you exclaimed happily. 
Natasha and Bucky both nodded, chuckling a bit.
“We can visit today,” Bucky explained. 
------------------------------------------------------------- 
After finishing your breakfast quickly, you had gotten into the car, heading over to the address that had the kittens. On the way, Natasha told you that the kittens were already old enough to leave the nest, so if there were a kitten that you had a connection with, you would be able to take it home the same day. 
You happily stared out the window, humming along to the song on the radio as your excitement grew. 
Once inside the house, you were practically jumping from excitement, sighing a little when Natasha, Bucky, you, and the other two people sat down at the table to greet each other and catch up. 
Natasha noticed your impatience, grabbing your hand under the table and rubbing soothing circles on it, assuring you that you would get to meet the kittens soon.
After a tedious half hour, the woman finally got up, leading you towards a different room where all the kittens were. 
Once you were finally inside, you gasped in excitement when all the kittens ran towards your legs, playing with your shoelaces.
You went to sit on the ground, smiling as all the kittens started exploring around you, inspecting you. Natasha moved to sit next to you, lifting a kitten into her lap and cuddling with it. 
After playing with the kittens for a little while, you found out that the mother cat was actually one of Liho's siblings, so you would be adopting a cat of Liho’s family. 
You were in the kitten room for about two hours, and you had grown especially close to one little kitten. It was the smallest one, and she was sleepy and shy when you first came in. After about half an hour, she did come over to you, sniffing you for a bit before deciding that you were the perfect place to take a nap. She climbed on your leg and started sleeping. 
“Can we have this one?” you asked Natasha as you carefully petted the young cat's body, allowing her to rest.
“She does really like you,” the woman said, cuddling with the mother cat.
Bucky stood in the corner, observing you and his girlfriend as you had a bonding moment. He loved Natasha more than anything, and you were slowly becoming just as important to him. He loved both of you, and he wanted to give you this moment together. He knew how much it meant to Natasha to be a mother, and he was certain it meant a lot to you as well. 
Natasha nodded excitedly, giving the kitten on your lap a little snuggle.
“I wish we were able to take them all. They are all so cute,” Natasha said as she lifted another kitten from the ground, holding it close to her and giving it some kisses. 
The woman stood up, walking over to Bucky. 
“If you could come with me, I will get you all the medical papers and get everything sorted out.”
Bucky nodded and followed the woman out of the room, leaving you and Natasha to snuggle with the kittens a little longer. 
------------------------------------------------------------- 
After getting everything sorted you had taken the sleeping kitten into your lap, snuggling with it while you sat on the backseat. 
You were more than happy with your new best friend, and both Natasha and Bucky were more than happy because of the fact you were so happy. You cuddled with the cat a little more before you as well fell asleep.
When you woke up again you were back in the Avengers tower, sleeping on Natasha’s and Bucky's bed while Natasha read a book. 
“Good afternoon my little Malyshka,” she said when she noticed you were awake. She closed her book, setting it aside and brushing some of your hair out of your face. You groaned and blinked a few times before sitting up, noticing the weight that pressed on your legs. Your little kitten was still fast asleep. 
You smiled and reached down to pet her, enjoying the purring she made as she snuggled closer into your hand. 
“Thank you, Natasha,” you said as you looked at her, smiling when she gave you a kiss on your forehead. 
“Anything for you, my little Malyshka,” Natasha said as she cupped your cheeks, giving you another kiss on your nose.
“Leave some snuggles for me,” you heard Bucky say from the door opening, watching as he walked inside and crawled into the bed, on the other side of you. 
You smiled and leaned forward, giving him a little kiss on your cheek. 
Bucky smiled as well. “Thank you little miss,” he said jokingly as he leaned forwards as well, giving you a little kiss on your forehead. 
Your kitten started making some noises, waking up and taking in its surroundings. Once her eyes landed on you, she crawled higher up your legs, settling onto your chest as you leaned against Natasha. It didn't take long before the kitten fell asleep again, enjoying your gentle pets and kisses. 
“Another movie?” Natasha questioned as she observed your state, realising she would not be getting out of the bed for a while.
You nodded happily, snuggling close into her side as she started the movie, stroking your hair. 
“Thank you,” you sighed contently before falling asleep as well, safe in the arms of your found family. 
Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @n0txn3vee @lorsstar1st
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lena-after-dark · 1 year
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Pairing: Dark!Namor x Reader
Prompt: "I'll follow you to the ends of the earth. No matter where you run, I'll catch you."
Requested By: Anon
Warnings: Stalking, obsessive behavior, obsession at first sight.
You were on vacation the first time you felt him near. Of course then you didn't know what it was that haunted you through the waters.
The warm waves of the Atlantic washed all around you as you swam from the beach. You went as far as you felt safe to go, pausing to enjoy the sunshine and to sneak a peak at the marine life below. You were unsure how long you were in the water before you felt it. You knew there was a presence near you. You felt the pressure shift in the water, closing around you. Upon inspection, you saw nothing that would cause such a disturbance. But each time you stepped into the sea, you had the feeling that something was there - watching you.
That looming feeling of eyes upon you didn't let up, even after you were home. Though it was gone for a while, it came rushing back one rainy evening. It was enough to make you double check the locks on every door and window in your home. You peered outside and saw nothing. Always nothing. Except when the lightning flashed and there was a figure seemingly floating in the air. You only saw it once, and shrugged it off as your imagination.
Always when it was raining. That's when you'd feel it. That's when you'd see things. It was maddening. The figure only appeared when you were home - and when it was dark. Never when you could find proof that something was there.
Until you started receiving gifts, that was. Handcrafted jewelry and ornate shells appeared at your doorstep. And once on your windowsill - inside. That was enough to make you leave your home. And once again, the occurrences halted - for a time. Then you saw it again, not long after you'd moved. The figure floating in air. The shape of a man. You tried to capture an image, but it was gone before you could.
You had to get out of town again. This time to the mountains. The snow was a welcome distraction.
"Beautiful evening, isn't it?"
You were alone on the balcony of the lodge - sipping a hot drink and enjoying the setting sun. Something about him seemed familiar, though you didn't think you'd met him before. The glare of the sun obscured your view slightly.
"Yeah, it is. You're staying here as well?"
"Not exactly." The rich timbre of his voice was soothing. And yet something felt off. "Just visiting. It's very quiet around this lodge. You're the first person I've seen. Forgive my intrusion. I'm... Namor. May I ask your name?"
You told him your name out of compulsory politeness. He turned to face you, repeating your name with a smile. You could see him clearly now. He looked out of place - as if he were uncomfortable in the clothing he was wearing. Nothing in the style of his sweater or hat matched his earrings - and they unnerved you at the sight of them. They looked to be the same craftsmanship of the jewelry you'd been receiving. Or perhaps it was just a coincidence. You complimented them, testing the waters.
"You like them? Perhaps I'll have to get you a pair." You let out a nervous chuckle. It was time to leave. You made up a quick lie about needing to go and stood, noticing that he wasn't wearing any shoes.
"I'll see you again soon," he said as a goodbye. He sounded so charming. But there was something dark in the phrase. It was a promise. You dared a last glance at him and saw that he hadn't taken his eyes off of you. That familiar feeling was back tenfold.
Namor kept his promise. When you returned home, a pair of green earrings was waiting inside. You weren't delusional. This man - or whatever he was - was following you. Could he fly? What was he? There were so many questions, and no answers to any of them. And now that he'd appeared before you, certainly things were going to escalate. You had to leave again. You moved only when it was bright and dry as a bone outside. You were careful - leaving no trace of where you might've gone. You installed a camera, extra locks, everything you could think of.
You thought you were rid of him. Through stormy nights you didn't see or feel anything out of the ordinary. No gifts were left for you to find. No figure floating outside your window.
Apparently he just needed time to find you.
Your face to face meeting had made him bolder. You saw him again - hovering outside your window as the rain fell. This time he didn't disappear. This time he flew to the glass, placing his hand against it as he looked inside at you.
You scrambled away, trying to alert the authorities. It didn't matter if they didn't believe you. You needed to know someone was on the way to you.
Namor was inside before you could give dispatch your address. He was behind you with his hand wrapped around yours, pulling the phone from your ear and ending the call. The other was around your mouth, preventing you from yelling. He shushed you when you yelled into his hand - as if he were attempting to soothe you.
"I have to admit, I am enjoying our game of cat and mouse."
You pulled away from him, and he let you. When you faced him, a grin had spread across his lips.
"Did you like the earrings," he ended his question with something in a language you didn't understand. Most likely a term of endearment.
"Get out. Now. The cops will be here any moment." He chuckled at that, and paid the thin threat no mind.
"I think I'll keep our game going a little longer," he said as he stepped closer. You instinctively stepped back, and he continued forward until you were against a piece of furniture and couldn't retreat any further. He reached his hand out and ran his knuckles against the side of your arm. The touch sent shivers down your spine.
"I'll give you two weeks this time before I look for you again."
No matter what you said, or what questions you asked, he had no interest in elaborating. Whatever his intentions were in the end, he kept them from you. He wouldn't tell you why he was there, what he wanted from you, nothing.
“I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth. No matter where you run, I’ll catch you.” 
He left through the window, flying into the darkness so quickly that he barely looked like a shadow across the sky.
Buy Me a Coffee?
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unholyhelbig · 2 months
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i would love a one shot of nat interacting w ronnie! maybe r is caught up doing a job for nat and nat has to pick ronnie up from school and domesticity w r ensues?
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Title: The Carpool Lane [an Oversight Oneshot]
Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff
Summary: You get caught up while running an errand for Natasha and aren't able to pick your daughter up from school. You ask Natasha to do it and she has to grapple with some big feelings.
[a/n: Hello! I promise you all that the last official chapter of the Oversight is going to be posted soon. It is a very heavy one so here is some fluff in the meantime! Also, I'm opening my requests again, so feel free to send some my way.]
Warnings: None that I can think of other than horrible grammar, but please let me know if I need to add any!
Check out the full Oversight universe
[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven]
The air in the home office had become sticky and cloying. It often did when the sun decided to shine as strongly as it did. Natasha kept her books clean and clear of dust but often times there was only so much she could do. Large particles floated in the crossfire of a golden glow. It almost pained her to wrench the window open and disrupt the flow.
It was difficult for Natasha to keep focus when she could hear the sounds from outside and feel the soft breeze on her skin. She was often known for her dedication, for her focus and her ruthlessness. But on afternoons, she was stuck doing mountains of paperwork when she’d much rather be doing you.
Natasha often drifted into hazed memories of the whimpers that escaped you, your breathless swears interlaced with the intoxicating way you moaned her name. She liked teasing you until you begged for her, until you needed her more than you needed breath, until you arched your back and cried into the thousand thread count sheets.
Of course, her favorite thing was to bring you to the very edge with her just her delicate touch and her sultry words. You’d come undone underneath her, coated in sweat and ready to please as an orgasm rocked through- an annoying ringtone.
Natasha had shoved her phone into the bottom drawer of her desk to gain some focus. It clearly wasn’t working. Her nails scratched across the rich oak of the desks surface before she pawed around.
Yelena had set her ringtone to the loudest, most obnoxious blowhorn she could find. She claimed that Natasha was losing her touch and often couldn’t hear anything past her own thoughts. And so, what if that was the case? Natasha quite liked her thoughts lately.
“Romanoff,” She drawled, voice dripping with annoyance.
“Hi,”
It took one breathless word from you and everything else was forgotten. There was worry in that single syllable and it made Natasha’s world spin for only a second before she got her bearings. She could do this. She was in charge.
“Tell me where you are.”
“You know where I am, you sent me here yourself.” You chuckled in a low whisper. Natasha had sent you to collect rent from your usual charges. She knew your pattern and could hear the low hum of the row of washing machines behind you.
While she prided herself on her ability to train you into the perfect protector with a quick hand a vicious tongue, she wouldn’t dare change a thing about your soft spots. You had particular one for the family that rented the apartment above the Soapsuds laundry mat and ran it seamlessly.
It was nearly impossible for you to say no to the elderly woman that took up residence with her son. She’d make you tea and you’d indulge in cookies as she regaled you with her charming stories from the 40’s.
“She’s a trained killer, ma, she doesn’t have time for this!”
Natasha heard the son’s accented voice muffle it’s way through the phone. She scoffed, and switched her phone to her other ear. You must have put your palm over the receiver because you were garbled too.
“I absolutely have time for this Miss Vazquez.” You returned to your conversation, voice whispered once more. “I don’t have time for this, Nat. I don’t want to break her frail heart. Could you possibly… pick Ronnie up from school?”
Natasha had been rendered silent, which wasn’t a feat that was often achieved in a shocking manner. Usually, if a Romanoff was quiet, they were busy calculating and it was better to avoid the storm brewing behind their eyes. This wasn’t the same kind of soundlessness.
She had to pick her jaw off the floor. Veronica was your entire life, and though Natasha came in for a close second, you would do absolutely anything for that child. You’d walk through fire, and it was testament to your growing trust with Natasha, having her pick your daughter up from school.
“Nat, baby” your voice came through the phone “did I lose you? If it’s too much I can get Darcy to take a later lunch. It’s not a problem at all. I shouldn’t have asked, you’re a busy woman and-“
“I’d love to.”
“Huh?”
“I can pick her up, y/n, really.”
Her palms started to sweat, and Natasha never sweated. She stood up and started to pace the length of her office, entering and exiting the large stream of light that vented in through the window. She listened carefully as you told her word for word how to enter the car line, and what mothers to avoid entirely.
“I’ll call ahead, let them know you’re safe to pick up Ronnie. Thank you for doing this, Natty. I appreciate it.”
She smiled, biting her thumbnail. She stopped at the window and peered out at the newly installed swing set at the edge of the property. So many little things had changed in Natasha’s life over the last year. There were children’s books strewn over the tables and art supplies that Ronnie loved to draw with. This was an extra step. This was the extra step that made her fingers itch for the ring hidden in the false bottom of her desk.
“Darling! Would you like to hear about the night I had with Robert Kennedy?”
“I would love to, Miss Vazquez!” You called back, lowering your voice once more. “I love you, I’ll see you at home. Dinner is on me.”
You had hung up the phone a few moments ago but Natasha kept it against her face for a few moments as if it were an anchor. She had to pick up Ronnie. She had to pick up Ronnie. Natasha was on her feet now, searching the large living room and foyer, and even the nightstands by her bed before she grasped at her keys and sprinted out the door.
Veronia was a girl of very little words, but she was comfortable enough around Natasha to curl into her side during movie nights, little fist clenching onto the fabric of her shirt. Most of the time, she’d fall asleep before the end of the film and Natasha would stare affectionately as you scooped her up and took her to her room.
Now, Natasha sat in the parking lot of the school with blood rushing past her ears. Somehow, the gaggle of mothers that lingered by the release doors were scarier than anything she had ever faced before.
She’d been shot at least four times and had survived them all. She had pulled the trigger herself more times than she could count, but all of curious eyes landing on her sleek black car made her nearly sweat through her t-shirt.
Natasha stalled as long as she could before taking the tentative steps across the asphalt lot. There was a small patch of green grass that seemed to be overwatered if it still held its vibrant color during a late heated day.
Her sunglasses were down over her eyes and she feigned looking at her phone, though she eyed each and every parent that lingered. They were openly staring at her, and she heard a few hushed whispers, absolutely no attempt to muffle their judgements.
“Don’t pay them any mind.”
Natasha startled, not noticing the woman that had sidled up next to her. Her skin was pale, her hair a pitch-black color that must have heated her up on a day like this. She stuck her hand out and Natasha took it carefully, shaking it. “Jessica Jones.”
“Natasha Y/L/N,”
The woman was apprehensive to use her own last name. While she kept a mostly low profile, there were still some people who would clock the name as something familiar. The last thing she needed was someone targeting you, or God-forbid, Ronnie. The words fit perfectly into her mouth like a sweet candy.
“I’ve never seen you around here before, and apparently neither have the vultures with the way they’re circling.”
She couldn’t help but smile “I’m… new. My partner got a little tied up at work and asked me to pick up her daughter.”
“Ah, so you’re that Natasha.” She must have flushed awkwardly, nervously, because Jessica seemed to backtrack. “Nothing bad. There are moms like the women over there who put their entire being into making everything perfectly beige. Then there are moms like y/n and I. Imperfect.”
Natasha’s eyebrows lifted. Each woman that flocked towards the front of the glass doors, waiting excitedly for their children to spill out did have the same look about them. They all wore leggings and different colored pastel shirts. Each one had the same highlights and haircuts, and apprehensive stares.
“We’re out here a lot together, and it was pretty obvious when things started to change for her. With you around, the smile actually reaches her eyes you know?”
The statement warmed Natasha greatly and made the box in her desk weigh heavier on her mind. Of course, she didn’t want to think too much about it, but she also wanted to make sure that you were happy, something you reassured her of over and over again.
Natasha opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by the barrage of tiny feet on the sidewalks and grass. There was a sea of runny noses and crinkled papers slathered in different primary colors.
A small boy with dark ringlets of hair crashed into Jessica’s legs clumsily and she let out a large huff of air in response, scooping him up into her arms. He had the most startling blue eyes like his mother and gave Natasha a gap-toothed-goofy smile.
Natasha was searching the crowd for your daughter. It wasn’t like she would call out, that was much too vocal for her and Natasha didn’t blame the girl in the slightest. Through the sea of kids, her eyes locked on Ronnie’s and she gave her an encouraging smile and a small wave.
Veronica’s expression lit up as she dashed the few feet that was separating them. Natasha had the foresight to lean down enough to dampen the impact of her hug. It was quite the rare occasion to be embraced by her, so she savored the spring scent of her.
“Your mama got caught up at work and asked me to pick you up.” Natasha explained, leaning back on her heel, she brushed a strand of hair behind Ronnie’s ear. “What’s that?”
Natasha gently pointed to the picture that was in Veronica’s hand. Her chest welled with pride at the drawing and she would say that it was miles better than any other kid she saw run out with their artwork. Yelena had been right; Ronnie had a beautiful gift that Natasha would pour everything into for as long as she wanted to call it her craft.
This particular scene was a rendition of the large house, too big to fit within the confines of the paper. There was six figures that vaguely resembled each person Natasha knew and loved. A clear grouping had been established.
Kate was smeared in a purple color with dark locks of hair.
Yelena had been drawn next to her, hand and hand.
Clint stood close to them- but not too close- with his signature deep look.
What called to Natasha the most was how Ronnie had grouped her. There was a figure by the edge of the page that was clearly you, down to a tea, and a shorter figure right next to you that was unmistakably Ronnie. The two figures held hands; and on the other side, with her signature deep auburn hair and green eyes, stood Natasha. Her fingers were wrapped around Ronnie’s in the photo, too smudges of color that made the enforcers heart thrum harder than it ever had before.
“This is beautiful,” Natasha breathed, struggling not to let the water that built up in her eyes drip down her cheeks. That would be weird. It would freak Ronnie out. “I love it.”
“You do?” The girl asked.
“I do. In fact, it’s getting framed and hung up immediately.”
It was rare for Ronnie to speak, but it was a prize each time she did. Just like you, Natasha had begun to understand her body language and everything she said with her eyes. It was something she would grow out of, or maybe she would speak with just her art.
Either way, Natasha read her loud and clear.
It was well past ten pm by the time you had pulled yourself away from the laundry mat. You ended up eating dinner with the family despite your repeated refusal. It was some of the best food you have ever eaten and though you missed the quality time with Natasha, the vodka coating on the pasta would have you reeling for weeks.
The house was mostly dark by the time you returned, and you were careful when you let your keys drop into the dish by the door. A soft golden light streamed down the hallway, leading to the kitchen.
Natasha would often partake in a glass of red wine, a record playing softly in the background. It was her time to unwind, to do the dished from dinner and breathe out the stress of the day. Just like any office job. Sometimes she’d use the time to scrub away blood from under her nails as you waited patiently and took sparing sips from her glass despite denying wanting one of your own.
The sink wasn’t on, and the kitchen was mostly silent save for a faucet drip here and there. Natasha leaned against the counter and stared at the moonlit swing set in the yard. It was bathed in just enough pale light to make out the shapes drifting in the light breeze.
You came up behind her, snaking your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. She shivered against the coolness of your skin, but hugged you tight against her center with a comforting and raspy hum.
“Thank you for picking up Ronnie today,” you mumbled into the side of her neck, “And getting her to bed. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
Natasha turned in your arms and had a bit of a pout to her expression that you weren’t expecting. You lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at her. You wanted to kiss that frown right off her lips. You wanted to lull her into a state of content after the long day you’d had.
Almost timidly, she said “We’re a family. That’s what we do.”
God, how long you’d wanted to hear that. This time, you didn’t hesitate to close to the distance between you both. You kissed her softly; you kissed her with so much love that it left you dizzy.
You’d scared away partners before with the prospect of having a daughter. Most of the time, you wouldn’t’ even bring it up until a third date, when you were close to sure. But even then, you’d be left at the restaurant, or the bowling alley, or the movie theatre by yourself once the words left your mouth.
Nothing about your relationship with Natasha had been conventional, however, and each day she shocked you with her tenderness and care for someone she had no responsibility towards. Just letting you and Ronnie move in had been enough. Parenting her? Loving her? It felt beyond reality.
She chuckled into the kiss, running her fingers down your jaw. “I love you too, detka.”
“Mm, seriously, thank you.”
“Do you want to see something?”
You lifted your eyebrows suggestively and earned a light-hearted smack to the shoulder. She wormed her way out of your embrace and crossed the large kitchen to the fridge. When you’d first moved in, it was blank. There was a single wedding invitation tacked up with a magnet for joining the Murdock and Natchios families in matrimony, but even that had been years old.
Now there was something new.
Something that had unmistakably been crafted by Ronnie. The photo was a beautiful mix of colors and mediums and at the very corner in, in blue crayon, were two words; My Family.
[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife@a-spes, @kyleeservopoulos]
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randomshyperson · 11 months
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Morning Grumpy Witch - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots
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Summary: The one where moody Emo!Wanda has a bad morning, but luckily, she also has a soft spot saved for her girlfriend. [Requested]
Warnings: None really, all fluff with Avengers being a family and Wanda being a simp. | Words: 1.197k
A/N-> I deviated a little from the original request and ended up writing a shared POV with Reader and Bucky Barnes my precious baby. This is pretty small and sweet as requested.
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad
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It was common knowledge in Avengers Tower that Wanda could be a temperamental person. And so it was best to keep a distance until she regained her temper, especially after things went wrong, like failing Natasha Romanoff's same combat challenge four times in a row. Not that anyone was keeping score.
But Bucky was a recent member of the team, and well, he's trying to be a more considerate person and had no idea that while he was preparing breakfast, Wanda was falling down her ass, again and again, and having to deal with the provocative giggles of two veteran captains and a spy who seemed to take some kind of personal pride in managing to defeat a witch.
And just for this, when the team left the gymnasiums for the kitchen, he greeted them amiably and joined in the loose talk and jokes even if he didn't know exactly what the others were laughing at.
Clint - who had spent the morning reinforcing and repairing his bows - appeared in the kitchen and like the father he was, his first instinct was to ruffle the hair of an already irritated Maximoff, grinning at her grumbling protest as he leaned over to get a cup of coffee.
Bucky didn't do anything wrong. He just wanted to make conversation. The problem was the subject.
"So, Maximoff, everything went well in training? Someone needs to kick Natasha's ass one of these days. I imagine it's easier with your magical advantage." He commented, but Wanda remained silent to the countless giggles that arose from the Avengers present in the gym at the time of the training.
Natasha made an expression of false interest, which hid the teasing. "Yeah, Wanda, tell him how your magic tricks helped you fall flat on your face on the tatami four times?"
The table exploded into giggles, Wanda grunted in irritation and embarrassment, before standing at once with a small breakfast plate in hand. Bucky swallowed dryly when she offered him only an angry glance of red irises before turning away to the kitchen counter.
He leaned a little in Nat's direction. "Was it that bad?" He whispered, and the widow laughed before clarifying:
"She has potential, but she relies too much on magic tricks. She can't get past the first wave of challenges, because she can't charm a training hologram." Nat explains.
The table falls into a brief conversation, and Bucky steals a glance at where Wanda is sitting - and shattering a loaf of bread with more force than necessary.
From the small living room, two figures then emerge to join the meal: the Starks of the Tower. Unlike Tony and his fancy robe, you are dressed casually, and he vaguely remembers you mentioning that you had a meeting at SWORD later.
It is Tony who greets the team first- You follow him, smiling briefly before your gaze circles the room. 
"Where's my little witch...?" You ask distractedly, almost sighing when you see the crestfallen figure in the kitchen. 
"Careful." He warns naturally. "She's kind of moody today."
You chuckle through your nose, turning away without missing an opportunity to steal a sweet bagel from Tony's hand, and ignoring his protest to catch up with your girlfriend at the counter.
Well, Bucky assumes you are a couple at least. He has never asked about it, but it is in the way you look and behave around each other. 
And it's definitely in how you come up behind Wanda, hugging her and completely breaking her pouting expression with kisses all over her neck and face.
The team only pays attention to the display of affection when Wanda breaks into a giggle a minute later, the sound muffled between kisses that you steal from her.
Clint has a fond smile as he comments to the rest of the staff:
"It's nice that they get along so well." 
The Avengers hum in agreement. Natasha is swiping cream cheese on a cracker when she comments to Steve:
"Let's invite Y/N to watch the afternoon practice." She says turning her face to the two figures on the counter. Wanda's stool has been spun by your hands, and despite being all over her, you both have your attention on the table at the mention of your name. Natasha gives a little smile. "It's just that Wanda fights better when she wants to impress her girlfriend. Isn't that right, Maximoff?"
All Nat gets is a raised middle finger that makes the team laugh. You chuckle at the interaction too but lean your face to hide against Wanda's neck, your arms closing around her body and hugging her properly. Wanda ignores the team to hold you back.
"I like this." She whispers, arms tightening and making you hum in agreement against her skin. Still, the position is not ideal because of the height difference between your standing figure and her sitting. Wanda sighs in your ear. "Can we go back to our room? Take a shower together..."
You groan at the amazing idea, kissing her neck before pulling away to look her in the eyes. "I can't, babe. Business meeting" You remind her, mimicking the pout she displays with your response. "Sorry. How about later?"
"Natasha didn't lie, I really do have practice. I like the idea of you watching, though." She replies, and you flash a small lopsided grin.
"Hmm, I also like the idea of watching you sweat..." You tease, managing to make her cheeks acquire a pink color. You kiss her softly before commenting, "It's a date then."
You are kissing her again when Clint hisses in warning, his gaze on the clock on the wall.
"You'll be late if you don't leave now, Stark." He tells you, and begrudgingly, you pull away from Wanda, stealing a few kisses before doing so completely.
"I'm going to borrow your car, Tony. The Silver Bugatti." You declare as you walk past the keychain. Your brother grimaces.
"No way! You have your own cars!" He protests but only receives vague excuses before you rush out of the kitchen - Throwing a kiss in the air to your girlfriend before leaving completely.
Tony spends the rest of the coffee complaining that no one respects their older brothers anymore. Bucky is impressed that five minutes ago, Wanda nearly bewitched him over a question, and now she was having trouble hiding the silly grin on her face.
He got up to drop some dirty mugs in the sink, and ventured, "You two are sweet together. And you seem to really like her, with your puppy dog eyes."
Wanda's expression changed on the spot, the red returning to her irises but also to her cheeks.
"Are you mocking me?" She retorted but looked so adorable at having been caught that he just chuckled, his attention on his mugs.
"I wouldn't dream of it." He merely replied, chuckling to himself as Wanda stormed out of the kitchen the next moment. Stealing a quick glance at Steve across the table, he wonders if it would be a good idea to set up a double date, maybe even invite Maria and Natasha if the widow promises not to torment the witch.
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Y/N: Hey Natasha?
Natasha: Yeah?
Y/N: What's your favorite color of the alphabet? True or false?
Natasha:
Natasha: ...What.
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marveliciousloki · 6 months
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Y/N: I flirt with Loki? He's alright. I hold his hand? Man's a mess. Y/N: I make out with him? It's perfectly fine. But if I cup his cheeks and kiss his nose? He’s inconsolable. Y/N: Why does simple affection break him?
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slyyywriting · 9 months
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Come Wind Me Up
Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: How’d it go again? First comes paying off your father’s debt. Then comes arranged marriage. Then comes honeymoon in the Italian and French Riviera?
Wordcount: 1.8k
Warnings: Mr. & Mrs. Barnes doing the nasty on a boat
18+ ONLY! IF YOU ARE A MINOR, KINDLY EXIT STAGE LEFT! DO NOT INTERACT!
A/N: This the aftermath of the Sebastian Stan in Loewe Fashion Weekend. Always happy to see the dashboard have a mass breakdown lol This is part of the Mob! Mr. & Mrs. Barnes universe not beta'd but enjoy~
|| MASTERLIST ||
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You’ve made up your mind.
You were going to get off this boat, walk on the docks, walk even further to the town and then explore it. That was the whole point of this trip and someone has already delayed it. You missed the last village you docked in because someone was needy and you had to tend to them.
Every cabin in this boat has been christened just half the week in for the trip and you found yourself missing out on sunrises and sunsets, cute little cafes and restaurants in whatever locality your crew dropped anchor. You knew Bucky was insatiable but you brushed it off as part of the novelty of being newly weds. But Bucky on this boat is two levels above insatiable. You need a break, your kitty needed a break.
You fix the bows of your dress’s straps, patting down the skirt until you’re satisfied. You wince as you adjust your stance, the reminder of why you were stuck on this boat ghosting along your thighs and pulsing heavy in your center. You point a finger to your reflection, a resolution on your lips that you planned to see through.
“You! Are going above deck! You are going to walk your gorgeous legs through the boat! It does not matter if he’s there! You’re going to walk past him as well.” You inhale deeply, pausing for courage. You lean further into your reflection, tip of your nail touching the mirror’s surface. “And then, you’re going to get off the boat and explore that cute little town! You’re not spending your whole summer on this boat on your back with your legs in the air!”
You nod, happy with your pep talk before exiting your cabin. You walk above the stairs and the moment you hear his voice your stomach churns with nerves. You can do this. You will do this! You mutter under your breath as you enter step into the stern lounge where you can see him taking a call. Whatever it was must be something good because he sounds only mildly annoyed having to answer work calls while on vacation.
You look straight ahead, refusing to even glance at him. Just a couple more steps and you’ll be able to walk to the ramp and off this floating version of your house.
“Mergi undeva?” Goin’ somewhere? He calls after you as you pass the little breakfast nook. There’s mirth and curiosity in his tone. Your foot falters a step but you keep going. “Wife?”
Your back straightens at the label. A little tingle that spreads at the bottom of your toes at the way it sounds on his tongue. His voice echoes in your head, the way he addresses you with that as his teeth mark your skin and he takes you deep--
“Just ashore. I-I’m getting seasick.” you turn your head lightly hoping to sound more confident with your fib than how you felt. You bid him goodbye with two fingers in a salute.
Bucky drops the call and licks his lips as his eyes sweep over your frame. He particularly loves the way your skirt bounces with each step you take, a little game of peek-a-boo with what he knows deliciously lies underneath.
“Come here,” he stands from his seat and steps around the table just as you reach the first landing of the stairs before the ramp connected to the dock. You stop and hesitate if you should listen to him. “Vino aici, my love.”
You scrunch your nose as you decide if you’d turn around. You were almost there. Maybe you could run for it.
“Let me help you with your shoes.” Bucky offers innocently. You glance at the pair of sandals in your hands, straps tangled together as you planned to put them on once you were on less slippery surface. You want to protest but your feet carry you back to your husband. “It’s the least I can do. I know you’ve been having a hard time walking properly because of me.”
He chuckles self satisfactorily while reaching for you. Bucky guides you to lean against the edge of the table, pries the footwear out of your grip and kneels down before your feet. You look up at the blue sky, grip the edge of the table with both your hands until your knuckles lose color.
Exhaling through your nose you chant in your head that this was a trick, a ploy, a scheme deviced by Bucky to squeeze himself between your legs. The thought of him down there makes you squirm and you rub your thighs to a close. Bucky smirks as he lifts one foot and places the sandal accordingly. He rubs your ankle and your calf until he reaches behind your knee and tickles it.
Your hand involuntarily jumps out and grabs his head at the motion.
“Easy, princess. Just enjoying how you feel on my hands.” BUcky leans in and kisses the spot just above your knee before slowly wrapping the long straps around your leg, ending it with a tied bow. He moves on to the next shoe, throwing you a wink as he lifts your foot off the deck.
Your hand returns to the edge of the table, Bucky slowly rubbing circles on your ankle, taking his time while he watches you twitch under his touches. The sea breeze helps him as it blows your skirt into giving him a view of what you were wearing underneath. He kisses your thigh, pressing his face between your legs and inhaling your scent. A whimper shoots out from your lips, legs parting without instruction.
“B-Bucky… We c-can’t,” your stomach flips as he nips at your mound, his nose angled to press deeper into you. Bucky’s hands grab the back of your thighs, ignoring your weak protests as he spreads you wider, allowing him to leave kisses inside your thighs until his tongue touches the wetness in the lace that you were wearing.
“Can’t what?” He taunts while his hands work you. Large and warm, strong and familiar against your skin. You moan as his teeth pull at the garter, snapping the gusset into your rapidly soaking lips. “Can’t have a taste before you go ashore? Can’t give you a small parting gift?”
You gasp when his tongue touches your slit. You look down at him, surprised that blue eyes were staring up at you. They had a glint of mischief in them, something knowing. Something that he’s too aware of. Something that you’ve allowed to consume you.
Heart beating like waves against rocks and the urgency of a sail needing the wind, you groan and curse before lifting your right leg and planting your foot on the table’s surface. It shakes a little under the force but you don’t mind it because you were already grabbing Bucky up by his collar.
“Bucky Barnes you better fuck me good and quick right now before I lose my mind!” You smash your lips against his, pushing against him impatiently while your hands scramble over his body. You grab whatever you can until you reach for his pants and slide them open, never breaking the kiss.
You suck on his tongue, grunting at how you just know he’s smiling under the motion of his mouth, satisfied with the way he has you so madly insatiable for him. When his pants are free, you dive your hand inside for his cock, pumping him hard and slow while he pushes you further down the table. Various things clatter to the floor as he clears everything of the surface, one hand already cupping your neck both for support and for assurance that you would not stray too far from his kisses.
As soon as you back lies flat, thick fingers pull at your panties to get them out of the way as Bucky impales you with his cock. You suck in a gulp of air as his thickness overwhelms you, pleasurable pressure taking over your core with every inch that he pushes in. Your hands reach out behind him, pulling him deeper until he nestles just right within you.
Bucky sets a slow pace, showering you with praise and kisses as you clench around him. Gradually increasing as you murmur your demands from him. That’s it, yes. Oh, God--FasterHarderYesBaby-- More, ah. Fuck like that--right there. Yeah-mmm. He happily obliges, following the beat you were drumming.
Your pleasure finds you first, legs wrapping around his waist when your eyes see stars above in the clear sky, back bowing to the symphony that was running through your veins. You gasp for air as Bucky continues to pump into your oversensitive center, thumb rubbing circles to extend your orgasm to partner with his release. His hips lose rhythm and his thrusts turn sloppy until you feel his warmth spread inside you in hot ribbons.
You stay still for a minute, your hand running through his long hair until your breathing even out.
“You almost made it out of the boat, my love.” He laughs against the sweaty skin of your neck. You respond with a dejected chuckle and pull on the strands of hair that were in your grasp. Bucky bites your shoulder lovingly in return. “Aproape. Maybe three steps more.”
“I will jump overboard and swim to shore if I have to.” You chuckle and scratch the back of his neck softly. The both of your shake softly with laughter, imagining how cartoonish you would look if you actually jumped into the water.
Bucky pulls back and gives your lips a soft peck. Humming with each kiss as if he was savoring something new each time.
“No need. I promise to keep it in my pants until dinner, when the sun has set. Then, my love, I get to have you again--” he nips at your jaw, “and again,” then the other side, “and again. Until I’ve had my fill of you.”
You hum, “that’s gonna take the whole night again, will it.”
“It will. And then it’s going to overlap into the morning.”
You laugh softly and brush the hair that was falling against his face, tucking them behind his ear.
“Esti nesatios, Mr. Barnes.”
“You make me insatiable, Mrs. Barnes.”
You kiss Bucky again, softly this time. Slow and needy. You push him off slightly until he pulls out of you.
“I’m going to go change my underwear. You’re taking me to the town! We have a couple of hours before dinner and I want to make the most of it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He assists you off the table to your feet, slapping your butt when you turn and head back to the cabins below. “Wear the ones that match my eyes!”
You laugh but flip him off as you disappear below. Bucky shakes his head and fixes his pants before he chuckles at the state of the floor around him. This was going to be the best summer he’s had in a while.
----
bonus moodboard:
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bucky-fricking-barnes · 2 months
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Resolutions
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Title: Resolutions
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: Fluff, Kissing
Summary: Steve and Y/N recover from their night out for New Year’s Eve.
A/N: Happy New Year! Here’s some short fluff to kick off 2024, just in case you already need it. Thank you for supporting me all of 2023. I’m excited to see what this year brings!
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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The soreness and stiffness of your muscles is the first thing you notice as you blink awake. The second is that Steve is no longer in bed. Slowly, you sit up and groan as you do. You grab the blankets from the inside and pull them with you, doing your best to stay covered by their warmth as you peer around the room and search for him.
You clear your throat, then call, “Steve?”
A moment later, he appears in your doorway, already dressed in his running gear. Steve smiles once he sees you staring blearily at him from under the covers.
“How’d you sleep?” he asks.
You sigh and snuggle back down in bed now that you know he’s okay. “Good. What time is it? Are you really going to run? We were up all night.” Yawning, you pull the blankets as far up to your chin as you can, and Steve laughs in response.
He closes the distance between himself and the bed, then sits beside your legs. You turn on your side and shift slightly towards the center of the bed to make more room for him. From under the covers, you reach out a hand, and he takes it. Steve’s fingers are warm, which more than makes up for the blankets you almost immediately miss once you stick your hand out. The room is far too cold for your liking.
“I promised Tony that I’d run with him,” he replies. “New Year’s resolutions and all that.”
You hum and close your eyes, enjoying the heat that radiates from Steve’s body and warms up your legs.
“Y/N?” he asks.
You peek open an eye.
“Are you going to fall asleep again?”
Grinning, you let go of his hand and stretch underneath the blankets, reveling in the way your muscles lengthen, then relax. After the long night of standing, walking, and dancing that you’d had the night before, it feels sublime. You let out a groan as you relax back against the mattress.
“No,” you reply. You flip onto your back, watching Steve as he bends over to adjust the laces on his shoes. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?” 
He sits back up. “Maybe an hour or so. I’m not sure how long Tony’s going to want to run.”
“Has he ever been running with you before?” you ask, tsking when Steve shakes his head. “That’ll be fun, I’m sure. He’s probably just gonna end up mad at you.”
Steve laughs and shifts so he’s facing you more than before. “That’s what I told him. You gonna be up by the time I get back?”
You grin and he laughs again, knowing that you’re likely to stay in bed as long as you can. It’s not often that you have the day off work and have no appointments or errands to run.
Leaning down, Steve presses a kiss to your cheek. You tilt your head to the side and close your eyes when he does, reveling in the sweet gesture. As he pulls away, you open your eyes again and watch as he gets up to go.
“Run fast! Faster than Tony!” you call after him, and Steve shouts something you can’t quite make out in response. It makes you smile nonetheless, and you snuggle back under the covers once more, ready to doze until he returns.
When you finally do get out of bed an hour and a half later, Steve still isn’t back from his run. You don’t worry, but you do shoot him a text that you’ll know he’ll see on his watch, no matter how fast he’s running. He’s set up a special vibration pattern for the alerts when you text or call so that he always knows when it’s you.
FRIDAY picks out an upbeat, motivation-boosting playlist when you ask, and you get ready as you sing along to some of the high-tempo songs she’s gathered from your music library. You stretch, pop a pain pill to help with your sore muscles, and pull on your comfiest house clothes before you brush your teeth and wash your face. You’re just starting to make breakfast when the front door opens and FRIDAY alerts you to Steve’s arrival.
“Hey!” you call out, leaning back from the stove so you can peer at him past the fridge.
Steve’s kicking off his shoes at the front door. He’s drenched in sweat and is moving stiffly, and you have to suppress a wince. You know that whatever effects he’s feeling from the long run, Tony’s probably feeling them tenfold.
“How’d it go?” you ask.
He looks up and meets your eyes, and this time you let yourself wince so that he can see you’ve noticed the weary look on his face.
“That bad, huh?”
“It wasn’t bad,” Steve finally answers, panting slightly. He tilts his head back, then lifts his water bottle and shakes the last few drops into his open mouth. “Just long. I didn’t stretch as much as I should’ve, either.”
“Well, you haven’t run since before Christmas. Most people probably feel the same way you do today, too,” you say.
You flip the last protein pancake you’ve made for him, then go back to chopping up the fruit. Steve pads across the living room and into the kitchen. He immediately discards his water bottle into the sink and pulls a glass from the cabinet.
“There’s juice in the fridge,” you tell him, not glancing up from your work. “Or I can make coffee, if you want.”
“I just need water,” he replies. 
Steve fills up his glass three times from the water dispenser built into the Stark Industries mega fridge. You’re thankful that Tony had it built into your apartment. Otherwise, you’d have to go grocery shopping three or four times a week just to make sure that both you and Steve are well-fed. Between his high metabolism, the extra food he needs after his long workouts, and your own meals, you’re certain that the two of you go through several hundred dollars worth of groceries a week.
“Breakfast should be done once you’re out of the shower,” you say.
You look over at Steve then, and he nods as he finishes swallowing the water and sets the empty glass down on the counter. He leaves you to go shower then, and you finish cooking as you listen to the shower start.
Steve sings while he showers. It makes you smile, just like it always does, as you set the table and open the blinds, peering out at the city. The snow from Christmas Day has almost melted, and the cleanup from last night’s festivities is almost over. You’ve lived in the city for years and it still amazes you how quickly Times Square gets cleaned up, then the streets that surround it.
“What are you looking at?”
You turn to find Steve standing in the doorway to the kitchen, drying his hair with a towel. You hadn’t heard him stop singing, nor had you heard him finish up in the shower. He must’ve been quick today.
“Just amazed at how quickly everything got cleaned up, is all,” you say, moving away from the window. “The street was a mess when we got home.”
Steve chuckles and drapes the towel over the back of one of the wooden chairs at the table. “Well, Tony did host his own party last night, in addition to the one in the Square,” he replies.
You grin, remembering how you’d snuck out of Tony’s over-the-top party to take Steve to see the ball drop. Given that it was your first New Year’s Eve together, you’d wanted it to be special, and he’d confided just before Christmas that he’d never seen the ball drop. He’d never managed to see it in person before he went into the ice, and once he was back, he’d been too overwhelmed to bother watching it on TV. You’d held his hand the whole time, and once you’d gotten to the VIP spot you’d managed to reserve after some serious name-dropping, you’d stood in front of him so he could wrap his arms around you to keep you warm.
Steve had been amazed by all the technology involved in the performances and the actual ball drop itself. He’d asked a billion questions during the show, enough that you’d spent more time explaining who Miley Cyrus was than you did actually watching her set. You didn’t mind, though. You’d answer Steve’s questions for a thousand years if it meant spending time together.
“Which one was your favorite?” you ask as you pull out your chair to sit at the table. Steve does the same.
“As much as I liked the one here, I liked the one in the Square.”
You heap pancakes onto both of your plates. Once you do, Steve starts dishing out toppings.
“Yeah?”
“I got to be closer to you.”
Heat flames in your cheeks and you mutter something about liking the same thing as you dig into your food. You know that Steve is smiling to himself as he starts to eat too—he always grins like a little boy who’s just kissed a girl for the first time whenever he successfully flusters you. It’s endearing.
The two of you eat, talking about the parties and his morning run in between bites, and Steve cleans up while you queue up the most recent episode of your show. Once the last dish is on the drying rack, he takes up his normal spot beside you on the couch. He drapes his arm behind your shoulders and stretches his legs out in front of him as you press play and set aside the remote. You pull a blanket over your laps, the massive fluffy one that Clint had bought you for Christmas.
Halfway through the episode, Steve looks over at you and asks, “What’s your New Year’s resolution?”
You glance in his direction, then scoot closer so you can cuddle against him. “I don’t know. I don’t think I really have one this year. After everything that’s happened, I guess my goal is to have a calm year, but that’s not really something I can control, you know?”
He hums in acknowledgement and shifts his arm so his hand is resting on your shoulder. His thumb rubs a steady back and forth movement as you continue to watch the show, but after a few minutes you tilt your head back to look up at him.
“Do you have one? A resolution?”
“I do,” Steve says. He looks away from the screen to meet your eyes, and he smiles a little. “Maybe it’s a little old-fashioned, though. Tony said it was, at least.”
“Oh yeah? What is it?”
“I want to spend more time with you. And when I’m with you,” he adds, “I want to be fully focused on you, not thinking about whatever mission they might send us on next or whatever’s happening halfway across the world.”
Smiling wide, you reach up with one hand to touch your fingertips over Steve’s cheek, turning his face more towards you, and then you pull him down for a kiss. His free hand moves to cradle your face as his lips move against yours. 
“That has to be the sweetest, most romantic New Year’s resolution I’ve ever heard,” you murmur.
Steve chuckles. His breath is warm as it fans across your face. “Yeah?”
“Did you practice that this morning with Tony?”
He bursts into laughter and pulls away. You’re grinning and watching him as he tries not to seem flustered by your seemingly innocuous question, and you have to force yourself to hold in your own laughter so you can pretend to be serious about it.
“I’m just saying, he’s more of a ladies man than you,” you continue, “so it only makes logical sense that you’d try to convince him to teach you some moves!”
“Teach me some moves?” Steve repeats, smiling wide. He shifts from his spot on the couch, easily moving until he’s stretched out across it and you’re on your back underneath him. The blanket falls to the floor and one of his legs is braced on top of it, because you haven’t been able to order a couch that’s wide enough for him to lay on comfortably. 
“Yeah, you know. Flirting! Did you forget what that is?”
He rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss you, but it’s sweet and cut short because you’re both smiling too much. You give in to the laughter. He rolls his eyes, though he still smiles even as you throw your head back, your whole body shaking.
Steve presses another chaste kiss to your lips when you calm down enough to breathe properly. “Do you really think I need help flirting with you?” he teases.
You shake your head and pull him down to lay on top of you, then wrap your arms around him. One hand goes to play with the hair on the back of his head while the other rubs up and down his spine, and you feel him practically melt against you a few moments later.
Smiling to yourself, you answer, “You know I don’t, lover boy.”
He falls asleep sometime during the next episode, but you don’t mind. You turn your head to watch the show as you continue to rub Steve’s back, and every once and a while you close your eyes just to soak in the moment. It’s the perfect, most peaceful start to the new year. You want to relish every second of it.
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Forever: @aya-fay
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chilly
peter quill x f!reader prompt: warmth theme: fluff (tags beneath the cut)
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There were so many things about being on a spaceship that you hadn’t expected, but the one that you found yourself lingering on was the silence. Not while everyone was awake – no, then the ship was filled with the noise of the crew and the music that never ended. But once they were asleep? You thought you’d hear the engines murmur under the metal floors, but no. Just silence.
“What’re you doing up?”
You started at the sound of Quill’s tired voice behind you, and you turned away from the windows to see him standing in the doorway, rubbing at one eye with the heel of his hand. He’d been on the over-night shift, monitoring the ship’s trajectory through space. Days of stubble marred his jawline, his shirt wrinkled.
“Hey,” you replied. “Who’s steering this thing?”
He smiled, jerking his head back the way he’d come. “Rocket just took over. But you do know the ship has auto-pilot, right?”
You smiled softly, tugging your coat further around yourself. “Still getting used to it.”
“So?” he asked, stepping further into the room. “Why’re you up?”
You shrugged a shoulder, turning back to face the forever expanse of darkness and stars outside. “You know, in like, every movie I’ve ever seen about space, they talk about it being cold. You think that would have prepared me for just how… goddamn freezing it is on this thing.”
Peter chuckled quietly. “You get used to it.”
There was a pause, a moment of that silence that hung between the two of you. Then, you heard his footsteps approach you slowly. You jumped slightly as you felt his hand touch your shoulder, his palm smoothing down over your arm.
“I, uh…” he cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Wh—?”
He wrapped his arms around you hesitantly, his hands tracking down your arms to join them where they were wound around your middle. You raised them in surprise, stumbling slightly as he tugged you gently back against his chest. Your hands settled on top of his arms, his skin wonderfully, surprisingly warm beneath your frigid fingers.
“…Oh.”
“Shit, you weren’t kidding about being cold…” he muttered, his hands moving to enclose yours between them. You sighed, watching his fingers curl around yours. Quill cleared his throat again after a moment, as if only now realising the intimacy of the situation. “Better?”
You nodded, leaning back into his embrace. “…I want to make a comment about you being so warm, but I just know you’re going to turn into a ‘hot’ joke.”
“It’s like you know me.”
You giggled quietly, resting your head back on his shoulder. “It really is amazing out here.”
Peter hesitated as your tone turned pensive, and you felt his hands squeeze yours, so gently you weren’t sure you hadn’t imagined it. “You’re not thinkin’ about leavin’ us already, are you?”
You paused a moment before answering. “Sometimes… I think that I should think that I should, y’know?”
“…You lost me.”
You smiled softly, relaxing further into his embrace. “No. I’m not going anywhere, Quill.”
You felt his chin rest on your hair. “Good. We’re kinda getting used to having you around.”
tags: @lovely-dreamer19 @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @castieltrash1 @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @bombardia @bellarkeselection @nix-rose-q @blue-chup @curcuma-yn0t @ninebluehearts
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missmonsters2 · 1 year
Note
“Can I at least shut the door before you decide to pounce on me the moment I come home,” with Wanda please?
Somewhere Around Midnight
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Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Summary: The one where all that waiting has come to fruition.
Warnings: none.
Note: give ur nub a break LMAO
Count: ~1.1k
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
Wanda takes a deep breath as she stands at her own door. Her hands are abnormally clammy, and it's a feeling she's inclined to say she doesn't like. 
The cause of her clammy hands is that Wanda's finally decided she'll confess to you today. Even though you're dating someone, that doesn't deter Wanda from her decision. It's not like she expects anything from it anyway. She just thinks it's unfair that you're in the dark about her feelings while she's elated every time you touch her.
It's complete madness she somehow made it this far without saying anything or accidentally revealing herself, considering she lives with you, but that has to be a testament that she's God's favorite. 
With a light puff out of her mouth, Wanda unlocks the door and opens it.
"Oof—" Wanda grunts, her body swaying slightly as she catches you. Her arm automatically wraps around you, and she tries her best to not inhale deeply like a creep. But you're warm, and that has her sighing softly. 
"Can I at least shut the door before you decide to pounce on me the moment I come home?" Wanda jokes softly as she rubs your back in a soothing up-and-down motion.
"Did I scare you?" You cackle as you untangle yourself from Wanda. You look at the clock and see that it's nearing midnight. "Were you caught up on the subway? I was waiting long at the door."
Wanda quirks her brow at you. There's no way she's going to admit that she was standing at the front door for almost 15 minutes. "Serves you right for trying to scare me. But no, I just left Natasha's a little later than when I texted you I was on my way home."
You huff but give her a smile before turning around and walking into the kitchen. "Hungry?"
Wanda shakes her head, taking off her jacket and scarf. "Some tea would be nice though."
You turn on the kettle and grab Wanda's favorite mug and an apple spice teabag. 
"What did you get up to? Did you go out with Andy?" Wanda tries to not grunt in annoyance at your boyfriend's name. Some hotshot lawyer you met on the subway a couple months ago. 
It wasn't fair at all to hate him just for the simple fact he was dating you. Especially when he's been nothing but nice to Wanda, genuinely trying to extend an olive branch every time he saw her. 
Truthfully and objectively, there was nothing wrong with Andy. But Wanda can't help but be standoffish at every opportunity. You never say anything about it, so Wanda hasn't stopped. 
"Nah," you shake your head as you pour milk into your cereal, happily munching on your late-night snack. "I fell asleep for two hours, and then I wanted to watch Disney movies and Andy's not into that."
"Because he sucks," Wanda mutters as the kettle goes off, and she moves to pour hot water into the mug you've set for her.
You merely chuckle but don't comment on it as you continue to munch and crunch. 
Wanda takes a few sips that nearly burn the roof of her mouth before she sighs. She should just get this over with. These feelings were just growing, and she felt so guilty every time you hugged or cuddled her. Wanda felt like she was taking advantage of you or something. 
"Um, can we talk?" Wanda mumbles as she sets her mug down.
"Mhm," you hum with a mouthful of cereal. 
Just say it, Wanda tells herself. Just say it and get it over with.
"So," Wanda sighs. "I feel like the air between us has been weird lately..."
"Mhm..." you hum more slowly this time as you look at her, setting down your cereal. 
Wanda feels herself starting to stutter at the nervousness. Her hands are clammy again, and she has to resist wiping them on her jeans. 
"I like you," Wanda spits out and then keeps going before she loses all her nerves. "Like, in a romantic way. Like in an 'I think you're so wonderful, and I wish you were mine' kind of way. And I know you're dating Andy, which I would never try to ruin in any way, but I like you."
You merely continue to stare at Wanda, and she feels herself rambling on, but she can't stop now.
"And I just wanted to tell you because I don't think it's fair you don't know that every time you hug me, cuddle me, or hold my hand, I kind of feel like I'm going to lose my shit. I'd understand if you want to dial back on that or want me to move out."
And with that, Wanda's semi-panting from getting all those words out and her nerves making her breathless. 
Wanda watches as you blink at her two times before you slowly pick your cereal back up and start eating again.
"So, you like me?" You ask between bites.
Wanda bites her lip and nods.
"In a romantic way?"
Wanda nods.
"Like you want my sweet lady kisses?"
Wanda's face burns at your words, and she semi-scowls at you but reluctantly nods. 
"Okay," you simply say as you look down and scoop up the last bit of cereal, swirling the milk around with your spoon.
"Just okay?" Wanda frowns.
You look back up at her. "Does this mean I can break up with Andy now?"
Wanda's jaw drops at your words. "What?"
"Does this mean I can break up with Andy now?" You repeat again as if the reason was Wanda couldn't hear you. 
"Why would you break up with him?" Wanda asks in disbelief.
"Well," you hum, setting down your cereal when it becomes clear you won't get to drink the milk until you get this settled. "I was just waiting for you to finally give in to the fact you've been in love with me since we were, like, 17. I was passing time."
Absolute incredulity crosses Wanda's face.
"Why did you just say something?!" Wanda nearly yells. 
"I don't know, you're kind of stubborn. I feel like you'd just never date me just to spite me if I brought it up and you weren't ready," you shrug.
"I didn't even know you were into girls!" Wanda huffs.
"Oh, I am but I learned my lesson early on that girls figure out much faster you're just passing time with them and it becomes ugly fast." You shake your head with a shiver.
Wanda's mouth opens and closes multiple times as you finally decide you can drink the remnants of your milk. 
"Anyway, I should probably call Andy now and break-up," you say as if you're just going to the store to get milk. "Can you put on Hercules?"
Wanda expected many things from her confession. 
Fighting.
Rejection.
Acceptance but awkwardness to follow.
But this was just bold confusion. 
"Are we...are we dating?" Wanda mutters to herself but finds herself going to the couch. 
She looks at the clock and finds it's just somewhere around midnight, and only the weirdest but greatest things happen around this time. 
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marvelsswansong · 2 years
Text
clumsy
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summary: you're extremely clumsy. Steven worries. Marc finds it amusing. Jake gets protective. But they all love you for it nonetheless.
tags: pure fluff, oneshot, boyf!Steven & Marc & Jake, gn!reader (no pronouns/descriptions in place), cute slice of life moments, some comedic humor with Khonshu, bc I am a student in London ofc I had to add in English lingo/London tingz, please do not take as accurate portrayal of DID by any means
☆ word count: 3.5K+ ☆
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Steven worries for you. Endlessly. 
He knows you’re a capable adult. You’re wicked smart, hard to trick, quick to respond with a sassy comment. But you’re extremely clumsy. He still remembers how the way the two of you first met was because you tripped and nearly fell onto an exhibit piece. Having just finished his shift, Steven was exhausted but his reflexes kicked in as his left arm quickly wrapped around your waist, stopping you from hitting the floor.
Your eyes remained closed, bracing for the harsh impact of the floor, but instead all you felt was… someone’s warm arm wrapped around your waistline. 
“A-are you alright?” a soft British voice asked you, your eyes slowly opening to be met with a gorgeous curly haired man with a name tag pinned onto his shirt. Steven, it read. 
“I- yeah, thank you. I didn’t mean to fall but I was distracted.” you sheepishly added, looking away from the handsome man’s gaze. You must’ve looked like such a fool, you berated yourself. Unbeknownst to you, he was mesmerized by the way the fading sunlight was illuminating your face, your smile hesitant but pure and your voice even sweeter to hear. 
“Yes, the exhibits are truly fascinating-” he started, only to be cut off.
“I was actually looking at the guide dog.” you interrupted, pointing to the golden retriever across the room. “But these ancient exhibits are interesting too! I just wish I had a tour guide or something because reading all this printed information on four hours of sleep is really difficult.” you quickly added, making Steven chuckle. 
“I-I could show you around, if you’d like.” 
Steven had no idea where the sudden courage came from, but he didn’t want to clamber onto the tube and go back to his empty flat quite yet. He wanted to stay here, with you, listen to you ramble about the most innocuous things. He nervously fiddled with the edge of his jacket, thinking he had perhaps crossed the line, but all you did was smile even wider.
“Really? Are you sure? I mean there’s only half an hour before closing so-” 
“It’s no problem, really.” 
“Thank you, Steven.” 
“No problem….” he trailed off, waiting for you to fill your name in. 
“(Y/n).” 
“(Y/n). Nice to meet you. So if you look closely upon this carving, you’ll see that it’s a depiction of Anubis. Anubis is the protector of the dead in Egyptian mythology…” 
That had been six months ago and now you had moved into his flat, your hoodies carelessly folded over the couch and your mismatched socks stuffed precariously into his drawers. He wouldn’t have it any other way though - being able to come home to you each night and to have your face be the first thing he sees every day (more or less given that both of you had hectic schedules) made even the worst days much brighter for him. It also helped that living together meant he could keep an eye on you more: it wasn’t uncommon for you to have shown up to dates, prior to moving in, with a sprained wrist, a small bruise on your arm, a twisted ankle… All from (badly) doing regular things. 
You were just so clumsy and out of them all, Steven worried the most. He carried plasters with him everywhere, in addition to filling one of his drawers to the brim with first aid supplies (which had the additional benefit of being of use to Marc or Jake after a night out, he supposed). He would be the first to drop all his books and come rushing by your side if he heard something drop or shatter, his first priority never being about the damaged item but your wellbeing. He didn’t care that you’d shattered three mugs since moving in or that you’d nearly given yourself a concussion from tripping over a package you were too lazy to pick up. Your clumsiness never annoyed him, though it just made him worry endlessly and be on high alert whenever you decided to do something even remotely dangerous. 
“Ah, shit.” 
You were sucking on the edge of your slightly burnt thumb for less than two seconds when Steven came rushing into the room, the sound of metal hitting the floor followed by your cursing forcing him to sprint out of bed and come to your aid. His hands carefully cradled your left hand, examining it in the dim yellow light of the kitchen, whilst you rolled your eyes playfully in protest.
“Stevennnnn, the cookies!” you attempted to pull away from him but his grip was iron tight.
“You’re far more important than the sweets, love. Hold on.” 
Turning off the oven, he pulled out a pack of plasters from the top shelf, ordering for you to run your thumb under cold water in the mean time. Afterwards, he carefully dried off your finger (being ever so careful to ask you to tell him if it was hurting as he applied pressure) and bandaged it nicely with a soft kiss to your hand. The action made your heart flutter.
“Thanks, Steven.” you kissed him gently, an action which still made him blush.
“No problem, darling.” 
“... Are the cookies okay though?” you pouted, pulling away from his embrace to check inside the oven. Steven’s hands quickly landed on your shoulders, pulling you backwards in an instant. 
“Hold on, love. Let me get the cookies out, alright? Don’t want you to burn yourself again.” he lightly teased, putting on oven gloves. You sighed - admittedly, that was probably the best thing to do anyways. Steven was the one to carefully take the cookies off of the baking sheet with a spatula as you arranged them neatly into stacks into the plastic container, carefully balancing one of the cookies on top of your palm so you could feed it to Steven. He smiled, gently biting into the dessert, a pleasant hum leaving his lips.
“Any good? It’s a new recipe.” 
“It’s marvelous, love. Very sweet. Only second to you.” 
“Well it was a team effort, I’d say. I bake and… you make sure I don’t burn the flat down. Or burn myself.” you added, taking a bite of the cookie as well. “Seriously, don’t you get tired of having to treat minor injuries for me so often?” 
Steven shook his head sideways, kissing you softly again - his lips still had the remnants of coconut and chocolate, with a hint of raspberry. 
“Never.” 
---------------------------------------
Marc, on the other hand, finds your clumsiness endlessly amusing. 
He wouldn’t hesitate to pull you away from a burning pot or to help you stand up if you fell, of course. But unlike Steven who worried endlessly, waiting anxiously by your side as you cooked or cleaned, he found your daring efforts amusing and fun. Especially when he’d be able to tease you afterwards, see the adorable way in which your face would crinkle up in embarrassment, thereby giving him an excuse to kiss away the sour expression from your face. 
Juggling trying to retain whatever was ‘normal’ for Steven with a mercenary’s life and an Egyptian god constantly bothering him in the background, there was something so comforting and normal about watching you. His favorite sight in the world was whenever you’d stay up late waiting for him to get home then fall asleep on the sofa, your face smushed into the cushions, your chest rising in soft breaths as you slept. Being able to carry you back to bed, after arranging the pillows and blankets to be as comfortable as they could, before falling into the sheets with you was how he wished every day could be. 
His heart burned for you. And amongst the millions of things he loved about you, above all, it was your heart - your never ending desire to help others, your generosity, your need to always give back to others. He even saw one time that you’d scheduled various anniversaries into your phone, each day color coded and neatly organized - he pretended to have not seen the first month anniversary notification and acted surprised a week later when you pulled out a pair of tickets to a new musical. His right arm never left your waist as you clung to him afterwards, the uneven cobblestoned streets of London making walking (especially as you were drunk) ever more difficult. 
“Oh!” you suddenly stopped walking, causing Marc to almost tip over to the side at the suddenness and force with which you stopped walking. Cautious, he quickly surveyed the surroundings, expecting you to have seen something to make you nervous. “Remind me to take out the cake I have in the fridge before Marc gets home.” 
His heart was overflowing with warmth as he chuckled quietly, brushing away your hair from your face so he could better see it under the moonlight.
“Baby, I am Marc.” 
You simply hummed in response, his reply not seemingly registering in your brain for a few moments before your eyes widened in shock.
“You are! No, now I ruined the surprise.” you dramatically flailed your arms, almost falling over as you took a misstep. Marc’s reflexes were fast, quickly pulling you into his chest as a black cab rushed by. 
“Careful, angel. Almost got run over by London traffic.” 
Gently walking you towards the other side of the street, Marc was vigilant to keep you away from the side facing the open traffic all the way until the two of you reached the flat. Opening the door took several tries as you insisted on being useful and opening it yourself, but you kept on dropping the key or using the wrong key for the door. 
“Just help the little human already.” Khonshu grumbled from the background, his arms crossed and his tone unamused. But Marc didn’t care. There was something so cute about seeing you get frustrated, your eyebrows furrowing in concentration as you tried over and over again to open the door. When Marc eventually stepped in and opened it in one try, you threw your arms around him, kissing his face and calling him your hero, causing him to accidentally knock against the kitchen counter with a mug falling and shattering on the floor as a result.
“My clumsy baby. What will I ever do with you…” he commented against your lips, the pads of his thumbs drawing circles on your face.
“Perhaps you could begin by cleaning up the filth on the floor.” 
Marc was about to chastise the god when your head suddenly whipped around to the tall creature. 
“Shut it, birdie! It was a mistake.” 
“... You can see me?” the god’s voice changed from annoyance to one of surprise, clearly having underestimated your abilities to perceive beyond the mortal world.
“Yes! And you need to stop being so mean to Steven, he’s a good boy.” 
The god was baffled into silence as Marc let out a wild laugh at your antics, hugging you closer to his chest.
God, he loved you. 
The sound of the door finally unlocking snapped him out of his memories, his thoughts running wild when you finally stepped out of the bathroom, nervously pulling at the ends of the fabric whilst looking yourself over in the mirror repeatedly. He knew you were meeting with your best friend’s fiancee tonight and that you want to make ‘the best impression possible.’ His throat immediately ran dry, his eyes hungrily drinking in your figure whilst you took his silence to be a bad thing.
“Oh no, does it look bad on me? Is it too much? Should I change? I can grab-” 
A swift kiss to your lips, firm but still gentle, cut your rambling off. 
“You look perfect, baby. Now you have to leave if you want to catch your Uber on time.” 
“Right.” you smiled against his lips. Quickly fixing your hair in the mirror one last time and grabbing your bag - quickly shoving your phone inside - you raced to the front door in your socks, knocking over a pile of books that the god had been skimming through for the past few hours.
“I’m so sorry, Khonshu!” you felt horrible, knowing that he’d been skimming over the books for hours, as you dropped onto your knees and began to pick them up one by one. The god let out a displeased sigh - at this point, the god had come to oddly respect you and care for you in his own right. But even so, he couldn’t help but marvel at your clumsiness. It was unlike anything else he’d ever seen. 
Marc was quick to arrive by your side, gently coaxing you away from the pile of books.
“It’s alright, baby, you go ahead. I’ll clean this up.” 
Apologizing fervently again, you planted one last kiss on Marc’s lips before hurriedly exiting the flat, the force with which you slammed the door causing the flat to shake. Shaking his head sideways in amusement, Marc quickly went about picking up the books as the god watched from above him. 
“I sincerely do not understand how one mortal can both perceive the higher realms whilst struggling to maintain basic balance and hand-eye coordination.” 
Marc chuckled.
“It’s a mystery to me too.” 
---------------------------------------
Jake didn’t worry for you nor did he find your clumsiness amusing. 
No, seeing you trip, knock over, cut yourself accidentally or drop things made his protective side kick in, his body immediately wrapping around yours and shielding you from whatever danger was created. It was a bit much at times, causing even Marc and Steven to complain - “they’re London cyclists, Jake, they’re supposed to go a bit fast” - but Jake didn’t care. He hated to see you in pain, to see any markings or discoloration on your pretty skin, so it was primal instinct to be protective around you. 
Sometimes you’d pout when he’d seat you away from an open flame or insist on holding your hand in open streets, but he couldn’t help it. He wasn’t the best with words - like Steven - nor with spending quality time with you - like Marc - so his love for you spilled over in his actions. Jake was fiercely protective of you, unafraid to snap, push or get a little violent with people if they could ever hurt you. Or if they flirted with you.
As Jake eyed the menu of the small cafe nestled in the corner of the bookstore, your order memorized like the back of his hand, he missed your figure leaving his side as a certain book cover on the top shelf caught your eye. Having decided what to order, he returned his gaze to his side to ask you if you’d like the usual, before he realized that you were no longer next to him. His eyes quickly scanned the surroundings, seeing that you’d opted to climb up a ladder to reach a book on the top shelf in the historical fiction section.
His brain immediately flashed with numerous scenarios of what could go wrong - you’d fall off the ladder, hit your head on a sharp corner and get a concussion, get a paper cut from flipping through too quickly - and Jake was quick to abandon his place in line, only to be cut off by another man accidentally walking into you as you stepped off the ladder. Engrossed in whatever was written on the back cover of the book, you hadn’t seen the man blocking your pathway who was now apologizing to you profusely.
“I’m terribly sorry for that.” the man kept repeating his apologies, bending down to retrieve your fallen book. Jealousy coursed through Jake’s veins upon realizing that the man was objectively good looking, his brown hair well styled, his prim suit indicating that he probably held a well off, stable job. It was one of Jake’s insecurities - the fact that he (or Marc or Steven for that matter, but especially him) could not offer you a ‘normal’ life free of violence, doomsdays and existential threats. And the way you keep giggling and entertaining the man’s quips caused his stomach to twist and anger to bubble up in his chest, his fists clenching by his sides. Jake wasn’t thinking when he stormed up to where you were standing and pulled you right against him, lacing your fingers with his. 
“Mi corazón, we should leave now if we want to catch the bus in time.” his voice was sweet when speaking to you but his glare to the man was deadly, who was now shifting uncomfortably under Jake’s stare. Your brows furrowed in confusion.
“Oh, but Spencer was just about to tell me-” 
You weren’t able to finish your sentence nor get your book back from Spencer as Jake quickly dragged you away, leaving the brunette man confused and alone with your book. Jake was silent for a few moments, simply dragging you behind him as you hurried your pace in an effort to keep up with him amongst the busy crowds of pedestrians.
“What was that for?” you pouted. 
Jake stopped, dropping your hand before letting out a curt sigh. 
“That bastardo was flirting with you. Plus, he could’ve hurt you by knocking into you while you were stepping off a ladder.” 
The mix of jealousy and insecurity dripping from his voice caused your expression to soften, your delicate hands coming up to cup his face.
“It’s sweet of you to worry, Jake, but I’m fine, see? Also, even if he was flirting, I would never be interested in him. Not when I have the most handsome, caring and amazing boyfriends by my side.” 
His anger slowly dissipated, your lips meeting his in a gentle manner, which he was quick to turn into a full out steamy makeout session by pinning you against the brick wall of the alleyway. You laughed against his lips at his eagerness as a small smirk spreads across his lips.
“You’re mine, mi amor, aren’t you?” he growled.
“All yours, Jake... But I did really want to buy that book so you’ll have to make it up to me.” 
He kisses you again, his intoxicating mix of sandalwood and fresh leather flooding your senses.
“Of course. I’ll buy you that book. And anything else you’d ever want.” 
“Can I open my eyes now?” you whined, the blindfold placed on your eyes having meant you’d been led in complete darkness for the past ten minutes. Based on the attire you were told to wear and the soft feeling of grass and dirt underneath your feet, you had a feeling you were in a hilly area or a park, but you had no idea why you were here or what Jake had planned for date night. Jake simply chuckled in response.
“In a minute.” 
A few rustles of paper and the sound of fabric being straightened out, then he carefully took off the blindfold from your eyes, revealing the gorgeous sight in front. A hastily sprung out picnic basket laid out with white and red checkered squares, pinned to the grassy floor with a few glass candles. Two wine glasses and a bottle of wine sat in the middle. It was intimate and small, yet so beautifully done, you felt your heart squeeze in appreciation as you looked up at Jake’s face (which was uncharacteristically shy and withdrawn in this instance).
“Sorry for the... rather messy presentation. Steven and Marc helped with a few things but I’m usually not very good with these things, so-”
“It’s perfect.” you cut him off quickly, grabbing his hands and squeezing them in reassurance. “Thank you, thank you all so much. This is just… the best thing I could’ve asked for on our sixth month anniversary.” 
Jake’s shoulders quickly relaxed, a sly smirk appearing on his face.
“Oh, just wait until you see, mi vida, what we have planned for you.” 
As Jake sat down next to you, you popped open the wine bottle and began to pour him a glass, accidentally spilling some onto his pants. 
“Shit! I’m so sorry-” you quickly placed down the drinks, searching for some tissues and water to help rub out the stain. But Jake simply couldn’t care, choosing instead to admire you: the way your eyes glittered in the moonlight or the way the faint glow of the candles below carved your face in shadows.
“God, I’m just so clumsy, did we bring any tissues? Or I can run down to a nearby-” you continued to ramble, becoming silent only when Jake's hand reached out for yours, wrapping around your wrist and setting you back down on to the floor.
“It’s alright, mi amor. Just sit and enjoy this night with me, okay?” 
“Okay.” 
And as the two of you sat in silence, the object in his left pocket felt heavier than ever.
“Thank goodness the wine didn’t spill onto the ring.” Steven remarked.
“Though, that would have been very (Y/n)-esque to do.” Marc added.
And as he tore his gaze away from the night sky and onto you, all Jake could think about was how much he wanted to spend to spend the rest of his life with you. Even through all the falls, bruises, wine spills, forgotten items and cuts you’d rack up along the way.
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a/n: sooo basically I haven't posted any fics since Aug of 2020. Whew. So posting this is pretty nervewracking for me. Sorry if this fic wasn't the best, I am a little rusty. Not sure if any of my older followers are reading this but if you stuck around, thank you!
As for everyone else, please let me know if you enjoyed by liking/commenting/reblogging - if the feedback is positive I may write more in this fandom :)
❤️ Drink water, nourish your body and be kind to yourself today ❤️
5K notes · View notes
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Would anyone be interested in me writing some more tlou stuff?
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allaboutthebooz · 9 months
Text
Come Over
Summary: Bucky can't seem to let go
Pairing: Bucky x reader
A/n: Oh look. I've come out of my once a year slumber to grace you with my undeserving presence and I will leave you with the tasty angst. It will be a one-shot, I'm sorry. Don't hate me too much.
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"Come over." The two words that light up your phone, briefly illuminating your dark bedroom at one o'clock in the morning. You had spent the past few hours tossing and turning. You just couldn't seem to shut your brain off and apparently neither could he.
He always seemed to know when you were having a hard time sleeping. He also knew exactly what you needed. A way to relax.
The only problem was that you both agreed to not keep doing this. Things weren't easy when you were together, almost toxic really.
Constant screaming matches that would always lead to tears and clothes being tossed around the apartment. To him moving agonizingly slow inside of you. Him whispering his love and apologies in your ear while you whimpered and moved to meet his thrusts just the way he liked. Accepting the affection while it lasts, knowing it would happen again.
When things finally ended with you packing your things and leaving the spare key on the counter, you swore to never allow yourself to be caught up in his game of push and pull again.
You were devastated to leave him, but knew it was the only way things would change. He made it so difficult to stay away though. One text or call and one of you would be at the other's door.
Your friends always questioned why you kept crawling back to him and no matter how much explaining you tried to do, they just wouldn't leave it alone. You would go on the dates they would arrange for you, but you always found yourself in his bed after the guys would drop you off.
You laid in bed a few more minutes trying to decide if you should ignore him or give in the slight tug behind your navel. You had just thrown your covers off of you, when your phone began to ring. Without looking at the Caller ID, you answer.
"Hello?"
"I was worried you were actually asleep for once." His rough voice making your insides melt.
You release a slight chuckle. "No I was just debating if this was a good idea."
"It's always a good idea." You could hear the smile in his voice.
You sigh. "Is it though? We're supposed to be moving on, Buck. How am I supposed to move on when you won't let me?"
"Who says I want you to move on?"
"I don't know. The gazillion fights we've had. The constant screaming at each other. The constant tears I've shed. I can keep going. We're not good for each other."
He's quiet for a moment. You can tell he's going through the memories of you two together. "That doesn't mean we're good for anyone else."
"You don't know that, James."
"Yes, I do. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were it for me. No matter what we've gone through. You're still the one I want in my arms at the end of the day."
"The only thing we're good at together, is fucking each other and you know that's not good enough."
"That doesn't mean I want you to move on. I will never stop loving you."
You heart clenches. "Maybe you should."
He pauses. "Do you want me to?"
Your breath catches in your throat. It wasn't all bad. Aside from the sex, you two were capable of laughing and being completely in love. You remember how he would hold you close when you were out with your friends. How he would come up behind you when you were cooking and just wrap himself around you. How he would take you to your favorite meadow and you would sprawl out on a blanket, while he would just look at you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him.
How he would tuck your hair behind your ears and kiss you so gently that you felt like you would float away. How he would hum his favorite songs while he got ready for work and you laid in bed watching him. His ice blue eyes, taking in every inch of you when you would sit on the couch reading.
"No I don't." You whisper.
"Then get your ass over here and let me show you just how much I love you."
Tears prick your eyes. "I don't think I should, Bucky."
"Come on, babe." He pleads gently. "I love you so much. Things can be so different this time. I can stop hurting you."
"You say this every time. How do I know that things won't be the same?"
"You have to trust me. The only way to know is for me to prove it to you." You can hear the desperation growing inside of him.
You shake your head. "I don't know, Buck."
"Then let me come to you." He begs. "Please, Y/N."
TAG LIST: @fangirlinsweden @snackles87 @jamielea81
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sunriserose1023 · 1 year
Text
Ignite Your Bones
PAIRING: Bucky x Avenger!Reader WORD COUNT: 10k SQUARE FILLED: Bleeding Through the Bandages WARNINGS: Canon-level violence, injuries, explicit mentions of blood and bleeding, medical terminology, medical situations, angst AUTHOR'S NOTE: I've been working on this one for quite some time. It's a fill for my @badthingshappenbingo card, along with a little enemies to lovers vibe. Title taken from "Fix You," by Coldplay, which definitely fits the last section of this story.
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You slammed the door as you walked into the compound, narrowing your eyes at the questioning looks from the people on the couch in the common room. 
“The next time you send me on a mission with him, expect him back in pieces, Captain.”
Steve opened his mouth, closing it again when you stomped out of the room. Two seconds after your boots stopped clicking on the kitchen floor, the door slammed again as Bucky made his way into the common room. 
“Never in my life have I dealt with anyone so reckless, so … stupid, and I grew up with you, Steve!” “‘Stupid?!’”
Bucky muttered “Goddamn it” under his breath as you stomped back into the room, a bag of Doritos in one hand, orange dust-covered finger poking him in the chest. 
“You think I’m stupid?” “Running into a building of heavily armed combatants—“ “Ooh, breaking out the big words, Sarge.” “Get that finger out of my chest before I break it off.”
You dragged your dusty fingers through the stubble on his cheek, smiling wickedly at the disgust on his face as he lifted a hand to wipe off Dorito dust. 
“You’re disgusting.” “Kiss my ass, Barnes.”
You turned and walked away before he could say another word, and Bucky glared in your direction before he turned back to the couch. 
“Next time you want to send me on a mission with her, don’t.”
Bucky walked down the hallway, muttering under his breath as he rubbed a hand over his jaw. Back on the couch, Steve studied the floor and beside him, Natasha rearranged herself, toes crawling under his thigh until he sighed and shifted, picking up her ankles and setting her feet on his lap. He started massaging her heels, finally looking over, making eye contact with her, seeing the joy in her eyes. He shrugged as he spoke. 
“So maybe I did that on purpose.” “You know they hate each other.” “‘Hate’ is a strong word.” “Hiding an even stronger emotion?”
Steve smiled, popping her toes. 
“Guess we’ll just see, huh?”
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“Of all the rude, idiotic, downright miserable human beings … I mean … he’s such an asshole! Right?”
You turned around, the pure white cat sitting on the floor behind you. She tilted her head, tail swishing back and forth across the tile floor. She gave a questioning meow and you nodded. 
“Yeah, Bucky Barnes. I never thought I’d say this, but he’s the bane of my existence. I can’t even breathe right around him. Can you believe that, Alpine?”
She meowed again and you nodded back. 
“Trust me, you’d hate him, too. But I’d never subject my best girl to the likes of him. He’s awful, Alp. Just awful.”
She stood up, stretching her paws, arching her back. She walked over to you, weaving her way in and out of your legs, her tail looping around your calf. You bent to scratch your nails on her head, and she bumped her head against your hand. 
“Don’t worry, Alpine. We’re better off without Bucky Barnes in our lives. I promise.”
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Bucky aimed his gun and fired, turning slightly towards his right before firing again. He straightened once his targets had fallen to the ground, seeing Natasha and Clint on the roof of the building, hearing the steady idling of the quinjet. He heard a distinct sound in his earpiece, watching Natasha turn towards it and he blew out a breath, running towards the east. He shook his head as he saw his target recoil from the punch he had thrown, cursing under his breath as he raised his gun and fired again, the target crumpling to the ground. Bucky tucked his gun away as he slowed to a walk, shaking his head as he loomed over you. From your place on your back on the ground, you slowly met his eyes, squinting your eyes as the sun glared behind him. Bucky sighed, offering a hand. 
“You know … sometimes I think you like getting punched.” “Oh, shut up.”
You laid a hand in his as he helped you to your feet. You groaned, lifting a hand to your forehead as Bucky held your shoulders.  
“You okay? Seeing double?” “God forbid. If I had to deal with two of you…”
You shook your head, going still and groaning again. 
“Take it easy.”
You moved to lean against him, and Bucky wrapped an arm around you, laying his metal hand over your left ear. 
“Talk to me. What year is it?” “It’s, uh… oh god.”
You pushed him away and Bucky stepped back just in time as you threw up at his feet. He wrinkled his nose and turned his head, closing one eye as he looked up to Nat and Clint. He turned back just in time to catch you as you fainted, shaking his head and lifting you into his arms. 
“I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”
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You laid on your couch with Alpine on the arm at your feet, watching as she licked her paw. 
“You know we have a room you could use specifically for bathing.”
She didn’t dignify you with a response, and you sighed as you gingerly rolled your head towards the television. Netflix was playing softly, the documentary you’d tried to watch long since lost your attention. You sighed and turned the TV off, tossing the remote to your coffee table and gently turning your head. You closed your eyes, pulling the blanket up to your chin, exhaling as the throb in your head made itself known again. You gave a quiet moan, smiling when Alpine crept over and curled up on your stomach. You took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. 
“Miss Y/N, Sergeant Barnes is requesting entry.”
You gave a quiet moan at the soft voice sounding through the speakers of your apartment. 
“Let him in, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”
He was just going to have to fend for himself, because your head was hurting too badly for you to do anything except nap. You heard the door unlock and then open, heard it softly click shut. You grunted when Alpine used your belly to launch herself to the back of the couch, tail swishing as her blue eyes studied the intruder. 
“I didn’t know you had a cat.”
His voice was soft, and you answered in turn, not opening your eyes. 
“Her name is Alpine. She’s very self-sufficient and she adores Happy. He takes care of her for me when we go on missions.” “Huh.”
You heard Bucky’s careful footsteps as he walked to the couch, giving a sigh when his shadow fell over your face and hid the light. You cracked open one eye when you heard a distinct purr, finding Alpine preening under his gentle touch, moving her head to keep in contact with his hand. 
“I think she likes me.” “She has questionable tastes.”
Bucky chuckled as he stepped back, Alpine meowing in protest. You moved your eye to follow Bucky and he nodded to you. 
“Sit up.” “No.”
He blew out a breath. 
“I’m here to help you.” “My head throbs when I move.” “I know. Bruce sent a pill with me to help that.” “I don’t want—“ “I know. It’s just going to knock you out. Your concussion isn’t that bad. Just painful. Come on.”
You moaned and groaned as Bucky helped you into a sitting position, and he managed to roll his eyes only a few times. You gripped his flesh arm as waves of nausea rolled over you, the throb in your head seeming to echo with every heartbeat. 
“Just breathe.”
You whimpered, leaning into him, allowing your head to rest on his shoulder. He leaned his head on yours, shushing you softly, the stubble on his chin tickling your forehead. 
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“You okay?” “I think so.” “Let me get you some water.”
You nodded, eyes closed as he walked into the kitchen, filling a glass and walking it back. He put the glass in your hand, setting the pill in your other hand. You opened your eyes, wincing as you did. 
“What is it?” “It’ll help.” “Bucky.” “I’m not a doctor, but a doctor gave it to me. We trust them, remember?”
You snorted. 
“Them I trust. You, not so much.”
He rolled his eyes, but smiled. 
“Just take the damn pill.” “What if I’m allergic to it?” “That’s why I’m here, and I’m staying until we see how it affects you.”
You gave a shake of your head, moaning softly. 
“Nat busy?” “Yes, and Wanda was, too. Sorry, kid. You’re stuck with me.” “I’m not a kid.” “Then take the damn pill.”
You sighed, putting the pill in your mouth and quickly drinking. You wrinkled your nose at the bitter taste, finishing the water. 
“Atta girl.” “Don’t patronize me, Barnes. Let me sleep.” “That’s the plan, cupcake. Lay down.” “Do not call me ‘cupcake.’” “Just lay your ass down.”
You did, rolling onto your side and closing your eyes, doing your best to ignore the throbbing in your head. You felt the blanket cover you, but you couldn’t open your eyes again. You felt Bucky’s gentle touch to your forehead, heard his soft murmur to get F.R.I.D.A.Y. to turn off the lights, and your headache started to ease as you drifted to sleep. 
Bucky stood over you, shaking his head as your breathing evened out, your eyebrows relaxed, and the pain that had been evident on your face disappeared. Bucky watched you sleep for a moment, turning and going into the kitchen to put the soup Wanda had sent with him into your fridge. He turned and stopped, staring at the cat in the middle of the kitchen floor. Her tail swished back and forth over the tiles, blue eyes locked onto him. 
“I come in peace. Even though your mom would probably disagree.”
Alpine chirped back at him and Bucky’s eyebrows raised. 
“So you’ve heard of me.”
Alpine turned her head and Bucky chuckled. 
“I’m sure she’s bitched about me to you, but I’m not that bad, I promise.”
He knelt down and Alpine walked to him, sniffing the hand he held out before bumping it with her head. Bucky smiled, petting the cat. 
“See? You can tell I’m a good guy. Well, I mean … might not go that far. But I’m okay.”
He moved to sit on the floor, sighing as Alpine crawled into his lap. 
“Your mom just brings out the worst in me. I don’t know why. I mean … you know how she can be, right?”
Alpine chirped and Bucky nodded. 
“Exactly. You get it.”
Alpine leaned closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. Bucky moved his hand to scratch under her chin. 
“She’s really not so bad. It’s just easy to get her riled up. And now we’ve just always acted like this, so why change, you know? But she …”
Bucky glanced towards the living room, where you were softly snoring on the couch. He sighed, shaking his head. 
“She’s got to stop being so stupid in the field.”
Alpine gave a quiet hiss and Bucky looked at her with wide eyes. 
“I didn’t mean anything by it, but she doesn’t think. She just goes balls to the wall and one of these days she’s going to get killed. I swear to God, she's just like Steve. I’m like a magnet to little bleeding heart do-gooders with no sense of self-preservation.”
Bucky lifted a hand to rub over his face as he sighed. He shook his head, gently ushering the cat off his lap, smiling at her offended glare. 
“Come on. I’ve got to stay at least another hour to make sure she’s alright.”
He walked back into the living room, finding you sound asleep and breathing fine. He grabbed a book from your bookshelf and sat in a chair, smiling when Alpine jumped into his lap and curled up, purring when his metal hand began gently petting her. 
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“I swear to God, if you don’t get your hand off my back, I will break it off and shove it up your—“ “Easy, cupcake. We’re supposed to be deeply in love, remember?”
You smiled as you and Bucky passed a couple in the hallway. You gave the woman a nod, laying your hand against Bucky’s shoulder. When the two of you rounded the corner and it was apparent you were alone, you dug your nails into his neck, pinching right at the pressure point. Bucky’s knees buckled and he stumbled as he cried out. 
“Son of a bitch!”
Bucky jumped away from you, blue eyes flashing as he lifted a hand to his neck. You looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, blinking once. 
“What’s wrong, dear?” “You’re an insufferable witch.” “Ooh, watch it, cupcake. We’re supposed to be in love, remember?”
Bucky stepped closer to you, the hand you expected was going for your throat gentling as voices could be heard just before people rounded the corner. Bucky stepped even closer, his nose brushing against yours as his hand came to rest on your shoulder, his words muttered under his breath. 
“I loathe you.”
You gave a breathy giggle. 
“Right back at you, toots.”
The people walked away and Bucky stepped back from you, straightening his suit jacket. 
“Can we just get the intel and get the fuck out of here?” “It would be my pleasure. Just—“ “Stay out of my way.”
You blinked as Bucky walked away from you, narrowing your eyes as you followed him, heels clicking on the marble floor. 
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“Priscilla! Oh, there you are darling. You look lovely!”
You took her hands as you accepted the kisses to your cheeks, smiling at the heiress before you. 
“Amelia, it’s so good to see you.”
Amelia didn’t even try to hide her blatant perusal of the man beside you and she gave him a demure smile. 
“Amelia Weatherford.” “Of Weatherford Jewels?” “Handsome and intelligent. My favorite combination.”
Bucky smiled as he took the hand she offered, pressing his lips to the back of it. You blinked at the sudden flame of fury you felt roll down your spine, shaking your head as he straightened. 
“Nicholas Rockefeller.”
Amelia’s eyes widened, as did yours when you turned to Bucky. He winked at you, offering his arm. 
“Miss Weatherford—“ “Amelia, please.”
Bucky nodded. 
“Amelia, will you excuse us? I promised Prissy a dance.”
Amelia grinned, nodding her head and stepping back, allowing the two of you space to walk to the dance floor. Bucky turned to face you, taking one of your hands, settling his other on your hip. You dug your nails into his hand, setting your other on his shoulder. You put a smile on your face, leaning in closer. 
“Rockefeller? Are you out of your goddamned mind?” “You pull out a Rockefeller, no one questions it.” “Maybe that worked in the olden days, Grandpa, but these days that shit can be verified in a few seconds.” “Would you relax and get your fucking nails out of my skin?”
You loosened your hold on him, pulling him closer and studying the room over his shoulder. 
“So how’d you cross paths with a jewelry heiress?”
You smiled, murmuring just as softly as Bucky had. 
“Undercover op in Ibiza, years ago. I’m actually surprised she remembered me.” “Well, it was Ibiza.” “Good point.”
Bucky moved his hand to the small of your back, eyebrow raising at your sudden intake of breath. Your eyes met his and you shook your head. 
“Don’t even. You just took me off-guard.” “Mm-hmm.” “I still can’t believe you went with Rockefeller. That’s not who we agreed on.” “Sometimes you’ve just got to go with whatever strikes you in the moment, cupcake.”
You scoffed. 
“Stop calling me cupcake. And don’t ever call me ‘Prissy’ again.” “It’s a common nickname for Priscillas.” “How many Priscillas do you know? You know what? Don’t answer that.”
Bucky chuckled, pulling you closer, smiling when you gasped quietly again.
“Quit it.”
He chuckled again, cheek brushing against yours when he saw a figure over your shoulder. 
“He’s here.” “Who?” “You know who.”
You slowly nodded, pressing your temple against his. 
“You want to take this one or me?” “I’ll do it. Let’s meet up in ten minutes, cupcake. Don’t be late.” “Fifty bucks says it takes longer.” “I’ll take that bet.”
You giggled, pulling back and staring into his blue eyes. You ran a finger down his nose, tapping his lips before turning away.
“Amelia!”
She rushed to you and you took her hands. 
“Do you know where the ladies’ room is?” “Of course!”
Amelia winked at Bucky.
“I’ll bring her right back, Mister Rockefeller.”
Bucky winked back at her, and Amelia giggled as she leaned closer to you, touching your forehead with her own. The two of you began walking away, and you glanced over your shoulder to see Bucky making his way across the room. 
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“Fifty bucks richer.”
You shook your head, crossing your arms in the cool night air. You glanced around, then went back inside, shivering at the sudden temperature change. You walked to the doorways and looked into the ballroom, quickly scanning the room and coming up empty. 
“Yeah, this was a great op to refuse comms. Stupid boy.”
You looked around the hall, hearing a metallic clattering from a room nearby. You shook your head, a sneer on your lips. 
“Five to ten odds he’s banging a waitress in the back alley.”
You looked from one end of the room to the other, lips twisting as you murmured to yourself. 
You shook your head, putting a smile on your face and making your way through the ballroom. In the hallway, you looked right and then left, before deciding to go left. You stepped to the side when a man in a suit rushed past you, nearly running into you, and you narrowed your eyes at him before you continued on your journey. You rounded a corner and let out a breath. 
“There you are.”
Bucky was standing with his back to you in the middle of the hallway. You shook your head, dress swishing on the ground, heels clicking on the floor as you rounded to stand in front of him. 
“‘Let’s meet up in ten minutes, cupcake. Don’t be late.’ And what happens? Cupcake shows up like always. Grumpy Old Man flakes, as usual.”
Bucky didn’t roll his eyes. He didn’t shrug and turn away from you, like just the sight of you was enough to make him sick. He didn’t make any movement at all, which made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You glanced at his feet, going still at the drops of blood by his shoes. You moved a hand to gently touch his shoulder. 
“Buck? Hey. What’s wrong?”
He blinked, slowly moving his eyes to yours. Your eyebrows furrowed at the look on his face, paler than usual, paler than you were comfortable with. Your ears perked up at the sharp exhalation he gave, and you shook your head as your eyes combed over him. 
“What happened? What?” “I think … I think he stabbed me.” “What?”
Your eyes widened, and you grabbed the lapels of Bucky’s suit jacket, opening it and gasping when you saw the crimson spreading over the right side of his stark white shirt. 
“Oh, shit.”
You pressed a hand against his side and he gave a quiet moan. You looked over his shoulders, then behind yours and he shook his head. 
“He’s gone. I didn’t … I didn’t get—“ “It’s okay. Can you walk? We need to get out of here.”
Bucky nodded, and you stayed beside him, hand pressed against his side as the two of you took a step together. Bucky shook his head, reaching to grab hold of your arm. 
“Damn it, that hurts.” “Hang in there, Buck. Just one foot in front of the other.”
He nodded, looping an arm around your neck. He grunted with every slow step the two of you took, sweat breaking out over his forehead. You could feel your hand getting wetter as the bleeding continued, but Bucky refused to stop until the two of you were outside. You looked around, speaking as you scanned the parking lot.
“Let me get a cab.” “No, I—“ “You can’t walk all the way to the hotel.” “No, but I can’t bleed all over a cab either.”
Your mind was racing, and you turned your head to look at him. 
“Do I need to call an ambulance?” “No. Just …”
Bucky blew out a breath, blinking wide eyes before exhaling again. 
“Do you know how to hot-wire a car?”
You narrowed your eyes. 
“Do I look like a natural-born idiot? Of course I know how to hot-wire a car!”
Bucky grinned, sweat rolling down his pale face. You swallowed as you looked at his side and he nodded. You helped him take his jacket off, balling it up and pressing it against his side. He moaned, squeezing his eyes shut, nodding as you moved your hands away and moved his to hold the jacket in place. You ran through the parking lot, ignoring the shaking in your hands as you found a nondescript dark-colored SUV, easily picking the lock on the driver’s side door and quickly hot-wiring the car. You drove to where you’d left Bucky, helping him into the passenger’s seat. You pulled open the glove compartment and almost cried in relief. 
“Look! First aid kit.”
You pulled it out and opened it up, finding the biggest bandage you could. Bucky gritted his teeth as he lifted his shirt and you pressed the bandage to his skin, doing your best to ignore the immediate spread of blood under it. You shook your head, pulling his shirt down, going to the driver’s side and climbing in, speeding away from the gala and towards the nondescript motel you were staying. 
“Are you—“ “I’m okay.”
You nodded, both hands tightly gripping the wheel. You kept your eyes on the road, shaking your head. 
“I thought you had the serum to heal you.” “I do, but it’s not always … instantaneous.”
You bit your bottom lip hard, making yourself smile. 
“You don’t have to try and impress me with big words, you know.”
Bucky barked a laugh, but it trailed into a groan. You white-knuckled the steering wheel, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw the motel. 
“Thank god. We made it.”
You looked over to see Bucky with his eyes closed, big body slumped against the door. 
“No! No, Buck, stay awake. Bucky!”
He jumped when you threw an arm over, smacking his shoulder. He blinked wide eyes and you shook your head. 
“Don’t go to sleep.” “Okay.” “I mean it, Bucky. Stay with me.”
He nodded, groaning as he pressed a hand to his side. You parked the car and jumped out, running to help him out of the car, looping his arm around your neck, helping him lean onto you as the two of you hobbled into the room. He immediately collapsed onto the bed and you stood over him, ripping his shirt open and giving a shaking breath. 
“Jesus, Buck.”
You bit your tongue as you saw the blood-soaked bandage you’d placed on him. He nodded, wincing as he squeezed his eyes shut. 
“Fuck, it hurts.” “I know. Let me …”
Your words trailed off as you ran into the bathroom, gathering towels and wetting one. 
“My … suitcase.”
You poked your head out of the bathroom to see Bucky pointing and you unzipped the front pocket of his suitcase to find a bottle of rubbing alcohol. 
“Thank God.”
Bucky nodded as you hurried back into the bathroom, gathering the towels and the alcohol and heading back to him. You walked into the room to see Bucky with his eyes closed, blood-covered hand hanging over the edge of the bed. 
“No! Bucky, no.”
He jumped at your sharp tone, eyes sluggishly opening. You shook your head as you dropped your supplies onto the bed before looming over him. 
“You stay with me. Do not close your eyes.”
Bucky smirked as you turned away. 
“First you … rip my shirt off, then you … boss me around. Keep … keep it—-“ “You can’t even talk, much less pretend like you could get it up. Don’t even.”
Bucky laughed, groaning when you pulled the bandage off his side. You tossed the blood-soaked bandage off the bed, pouring alcohol over his wound before pressing the wet towel against his side. You increased the pressure and his groan grew louder, metal hand moving to grip your arm. 
“I’m sorry.” “Don’t. You’re … fine. Don’t let me hurt you.”
You nodded, trying your best to clean the wound. Blood continued to bubble out and you shook your head. 
“God, there’s so much blood.” “Might’ve n … nicked the liver.” “No, there’s got to be … oh, fuck. Fuck, Bucky. He got you twice.”
Bucky rolled as best he could when you tapped his shoulder, and you gave a quiet whine when you saw the wound to his back, inches from the first wound. You shook your head as you moved the towel and pressed both of your hands to both of his wounds. 
“Goddamn it, Y/N.” “Don’t give me shit right now. I’m trying to save your life.” “I know. I’m just …”
He wheezed out a breath, and you quickly set a thick bandage on the wound on his back. Bucky rolled back to his back, wincing as you put another bandage on his front. 
“Just breathe.”
Bucky nodded, widening his eyes. You shook your head, leaning over him. 
“Come on, bionic man. You’ve got an arm made out of the strongest metal in the world and you’re going to let a little prison shank take you out?”
Bucky wheezed out a laugh, his metal arm moving to cup your elbow, thumb rubbing over your skin as his sleepy eyes met your own. 
“I’ll be … fine.” “Please don’t leave me, Buck. Stay with me.”
He nodded, eyes drifting closed. 
“No, damn it. No! Open your eyes and keep them open. Bucky, please. Oh, look what you’ve done. You got blood on your dog tags.”
He blinked his eyes open at that, looking down to see your blood-covered fingertips grab onto his dog tags before letting them sit in your bloody palm. He shook his head, your thumbprint perfectly outlined on the smooth side of the metal. 
“You did that.” “Prove it.”
Bucky groaned, head falling back on the pillow. 
“Fuck.” “I know. Just hold on.”
Your eyes widened when you looked down at the bandage, blood seeping out from under it. You swallowed and pulled the bandage off, cleaning the blood as best you could before finagling a piece of gauze and taping it to his skin. Blood quickly soaked through the gauze and bubbled around the tape. 
“You’ve got to … stitch it up.”
You looked up and met his eyes, shaking your head. 
“What? No. No, I …I can call for—“ “For what?”
You looked at his pale face, watching his eyes slowly blink open, the icy blue dull around his widening pupils. He gave a slow shake of his head. 
“They … won’t make it.” “Buck, I can’t.” “You … have to. You … you’re my only … hope.”
You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head. You opened your eyes again and he gave you a small smile. He nodded and you blew out a breath. 
“Oh, god.” “You … can do this.”
You nodded, stepping back from the bed and to his suitcase, pulling out a sewing kit. You blew out a breath, shaking your head. 
“Goddamn it.”
You grabbed a needle and some thread, moving back to the bed and picking up the bottle of alcohol, pouring it over the needle. Your hands shook as you tried to thread the needle, stilling when you felt metal fingers gently brushing your elbow again. You looked at him and Bucky smiled. 
“You’ve got this.”
You shook your head, staring into his sleepy eyes. 
“I’ve never sewn anything before.” “Nothing … to it. Just … back and—back and forth.”
You nodded again, doing as he instructed, listening to his murmurs as he walked you through how to knot the thread. You blew out a breath and wiped the towel over his skin, cleaning away the blood. 
“Pinch the … skin together.”
You did as he said, doing your best to ignore his wince. He shook his head. 
“Don't … pay atten—attention to me. Just do it.” “Okay, Nike.”
He gave a breathy laugh, groaning as you took the opportunity and pushed the needle through his skin. Your eyes were wide, mouth open when you saw what you’d done to him, the stark black thread standing out against his skin. 
“Oh my god.” “Keep—keep going. In and—“ “Out. In and out.”
Bucky nodded, groaning again as you pulled and tugged, pushing the needle into his skin, pulling it out, closing the wound on his side. You tied another knot in the end of the thread, helping Bucky move the slightest bit onto his side. You couldn’t stop the whine from escaping your lips when you saw the blood-soaked bandage on his back, pulling it off and cleaning the wound as best you could. You licked your lips and cleared your mind, focusing only on the task at hand, going through the same motions as you stitched up the other, albeit smaller, wound. You gave a sigh of relief, laughing softly. 
“Okay. Okay, that’s it. They’re closed.”
You rolled Bucky back to his back, the breath catching in your throat when you saw his eyes closed. 
“No, no, no. Bucky? Buck, open your eyes.”
He didn’t do what you said this time. Your hand gently slapped his face, and you let the tears come when he gave a soft moan, trying to move away from you. You nodded, your hand resting against his cheek as you brought your knees up, resting your elbow on them as you put your forehead against your wrist and cried. 
After a moment, you sniffed and stood up, going into the bathroom and staring at yourself in the mirror. Your gown was stained with Bucky’s blood, your hands were covered in it, it was caked under your nails. You even had blood on your forehead. You closed your eyes, opening them again to see your blood-soaked reflection staring back at you. 
“Carrie. I’m Carrie at the prom.”
A laugh bubbled from your lips and you lifted a hand with the intention of covering your mouth. The laughter died as you gasped instead, staring at your hand. You took in a shaky breath, glancing over your shoulder and watching Bucky’s chest rise and fall a few times. You walked to the shower and turned it on, not even bothering to check the temperature before you walked into the shower fully clothed. 
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You sat on the side of the bed, eyes focused on Bucky’s chest as it rose and fell. You’d at least combed your hair when you got out of the shower, leaving it in wet ropes around your head. You’d pulled on a pair of sweatpants before rifling through Bucky’s bag and stealing one of his Henleys.
You’d felt so cold ever since you’d gotten out of the shower. 
You looked down at the phone in your hand, taking in a breath before letting it out slowly. You tapped the screen until you found a number, lifting the phone to your ear. 
“Hello?” “Hey, it … it’s me.” “Hey, you. How’s it going?”
You looked to the bed, shaking your head as your bottom lip wobbled. 
“Not … not great.” “What’s wrong?” “Bucky got stabbed.” “Jesus. Is he okay? Where are you?” “We’re at the motel. Clint, I had to sew him up.”
You couldn’t fight back the sob, and you put your forehead in your hand as you heard Clint murmuring through the phone. 
“Y/N, it’s Steve. Is he alive?”
You nodded until you trusted your voice. 
“He’s unconscious, but he’s breathing. I had to sew up the wounds and I’ve never done that before. You need to come get us and get him to a doctor.” “I’m sure you did fine.” “There was so much blood.”
Steve didn’t say anything after your whisper, and his voice was shaky when he spoke again. 
“We’re on the way.” “We didn’t finish the mission.” “That doesn’t matter now.”
You nodded, closing your eyes as Clint came back on the line, telling you they’d be there in a few hours. You hung up the phone, moving to the other bed, lifting a shaky hand to brush through Bucky’s hair. 
“They’re coming, Buck. Steve’s coming and he’s going to help you. You’re going to be okay.”
Bucky muttered nonsense words, and you shushed him, hand coming to rest against his cheek. Bucky murmured again, leaning into your touch before settling down again. 
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You sat on the other bed and watched as Steve ran in, hitting his knees beside the bed where Bucky was still sleeping. Clint pulled up a hologram of Helen Cho, who praised your stitches and instructed the boys to get Bucky to her cradle ASAP. They were loading him onto a stretcher when Wanda walked in, kneeling before you. 
“Hey, you. Let’s go home.”
You turned your head to meet her eyes, your own eyes narrowing. Even though you’d been watching and hearing everything that was happening around you, you felt far away, like you’d been watching television instead of real life. You swallowed, giving Wanda a nod when she murmured your name again. She held out a hand and you grabbed onto it, holding tighter than you realized. You blinked when you noticed Sam grabbing your suitcases. 
“The … the dress.” “What dress, honey?”
You blinked as you looked at Wanda again, like you weren’t entirely sure if she was there. 
“The dress for the gala. It’s … it’s in the bathroom.”
Wanda nodded to Sam. 
“We’ll take care of it. Come on, sweetie.”
You followed her lead, still gripping tightly to her hand as she led you to the quinjet. 
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Two weeks later, Bucky walked into the kitchen, heading for the fruit bowl. 
“How are there never any bananas? I swear to god, I put them on the grocery list yesterday.”
Natasha’s eyebrows raised, but she didn’t say anything as she spread peanut butter over the piece of bread in her hand. Bucky blew out a breath, muttering to himself as he picked up an orange instead. 
“Nat, are you stealing all the bananas?” “Do I look like a banana thief?”
Bucky shrugged his metal shoulder as he peeled his orange. Natasha glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. 
“We have knives for that, you know?”
Bucky grinned at her with a section of orange in his mouth and she rolled her eyes. She finished her sandwich, leaving the room without a goodbye. She made her way down the hall, knocking softly on a door, hearing F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s announcement of who was at the door. At the click of a lock, Natasha walked into the apartment. 
“Hey, I brought you some lunch.” “Just a sec.”
Natasha walked into the kitchen, hearing you curse under your breath. She sighed, looking at the pile of banana peels at your elbow. 
“Y/N…” “Hey, Nat.”
You scrambled to hide whatever was in your hands from her and Natasha narrowed her eyes. 
“What are you doing?” “Nothing. Did you say something about lunch? I’m starving.” “It’s just a peanut butter sandwich.” “Ooh, my fave.”
You pushed your chair away from the table, turning your back to Natasha quickly so she wouldn’t see your hands. 
“What are you trying to hide from me?”
You faltered at that, pausing a moment before walking to the sink. 
“Nothing.” “Y/N—“ “Drop it. Please.”
Natasha sighed, setting the sandwich down and crossing her arms over her chest. She waited until you walked back to the table, staring you down until you sighed and sat in the chair. 
“What’s going on with you?”
You put your head in your hands in lieu of answering her. Natasha shook her head. 
“Come on. You’ve been avoiding the team ever since you got back from that mission with Bucky. Steve’s about ready to mandate therapy for you.” “Steve can’t do that.” “He’s the Captain. He can do what he wants.”
You snorted and Natasha sighed, sitting across from you. 
“Come on, kid. Talk to me.” “It’s nothing. I’m fine. Can I have my sandwich now?”
You let your hands fall by your sides. Natasha stared at you, but you stared right back, and she eventually sighed and nodded. You slid the plate closer to you and took a bite out of the sandwich. 
“So you’re the one that’s been stealing the bananas?” “I thought this was lunch, not an interrogation.” “The evidence is overwhelming.”
Natasha rolled her eyes at the way you spoke with your mouth full, then motioned to the banana peels at your elbow. You swallowed the bite you’d taken, lifting your shoulders. 
“I’m really into smoothies?”
Natasha just cocked an eyebrow and you blew out a breath. 
“I made banana bread last week.” “I know. Clint kept making perverse comments about how good it was.”
You smiled at that, looking down at the sandwich. You gently pushed the plate away, your sandwich with one bite missing staring back at you. 
“Hey.” “I’m not doing anything illegal or unmentionable with the bananas.” “You know I don’t care about that.”
Natasha reached over and laid a hand on your wrist. 
“I’m worried about you.”
Her eyes softened when you lifted tear-filled ones to her. You shook your head and she tightened her hold on you. You gave a shaky exhale and shook your head again. 
“I’m sorry about the bananas. I’ll make my own grocery order or something.” “Honey, that’s not the point.”
You tugged your hand away from her, wiping your eyes. 
“I, uh … I’ve really got to clean out my bathroom. It’s horrible. Can’t even remember the last time I mopped it.” “Talk to me.” “I’m just busy, Nat. I'm fine.” “You’re not—“ “Can you lock the door on your way out?”
Natasha sighed as you walked away, closing a door down the hall. She closed her eyes, hanging her head as she exhaled again. She picked up the sandwich you didn’t eat, biting into it herself as she left your apartment, locking the door behind her.
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“No.” “Come on, Wanda. It’s for the greater good.”
Wanda raised one eyebrow as Sam tried to hide his smile. Natasha was unperturbed, taking one of Wanda’s hands. 
“Something is going on with her. She hasn’t been to movie night or game night or even dinner in two weeks. Almost three! You know how she is.”
Sam tilted his head. 
“You know that last mission took a toll on her.” “I know it did, but she usually bounces back quicker than this.”
Wanda laid her other hand on top of Natasha’s. 
“You didn’t see what we saw when we picked them up, Nat. She just needs time to process this.” “It’s been two weeks. This is past ‘processing time.’ This is mentally fucked up time now.”
Wanda looked to Sam, who stared back at her, a silent conversation passing between them. Wanda sighed, turning back to Natasha.
“I don’t like this.” “Let the record state she doesn’t like this.”
Sam rolled his eyes, but smiled. Wanda sighed again, standing up and brushing off the dress she was wearing before making her way down the hall. She stopped outside your room, putting her ear to the door, closing her eyes as they began to glow red. 
“And pull slowly … there. Perfect.”
Wanda turned her head slightly as she listened to your thoughts. 
You can’t even see it! That’s a surgeon’s precision there. “Excellent work, Agent. Do you want to try the chicken now?” 
Wanda blinked her eyes open when she heard the second voice. It sounded different, further away, and she thought the voice had to be coming through your phone or computer. 
“Ew, it’s slimy.” “You knew it would be. Remember how we talked about it?” “Right. It’s more like normal skin, and with an injury, slime is a possibility.”
Wanda heard a tinny laugh, and she closed her eyes again as your voice went silent, save for the one in your head. 
Take a breath. You need this practice. You have to do this right. Next time could be life and death.
Wanda’s brows furrowed as she laid a hand on the door. 
In and out. In and out. Don’t forget to breathe. In and out. “Very good. Go just a bit deeper … that’s it. Perfect.”
Wanda’s red eyes opened when the soft sound of your thoughts echoed in her mind. 
I need to figure out how to make this bloody. It’s slippery enough as it is, but the blood adds an extra obstacle. Remember how Bucky’s blood soaked the needle and thread? “Agent, clear your mind. Keep your focus on the task at hand. That last stitch slipped.” “Sorry.” “It’s still very good.”
Wanda turned the doorknob, silently making her way into your apartment, stopping at the entry to your kitchen. You were sitting at the table with your back to her, your laptop on the table, along with a small pile of bananas and a raw chicken breast. 
“What are you doing?”
You jumped, quickly turning in your chair. 
“Wanda? What the hell are you doing? How did you get in here?” “Agent, I think this will end our session today. Very good work.”
You turned back as the video call ended with a chime, and you blew out a breath as you hung your head. Wanda stepped further into the kitchen, eyes scanning the room. 
“What are you doing in here? Why do you have so many bananas?” “Wanda, you need to go.”
Wanda’s eyes started glowing as you tried to hide the contents on the table from her. 
Shit. God, she can’t know. Nobody can know. They won’t understand. 
“What won’t we understand?”
You whirled around, eyes full of hurt. 
“Are you in my head?”
Wanda blinked, her eyes cooling back to their normal color. You gave an almost silent laugh. 
“You were. You were listening. You promised you’d never do that.” “Everyone is worried about you. You won’t leave this apartment. Ever since your mission with Bucky, you’ve closed off.”
You couldn’t help but flinch when she mentioned Bucky and that disastrous mission. Wanda’s eyes softened as she took a step closer.
“This has something to do with that, doesn’t it?” “Can you just mind your own business?” “Not when you’re hurting this badly and won’t let any of us help. We know what you’re going through.”
You whirled to face her, eyes wide. 
“How?! How could any of you know what I’m feeling? You weren’t there. You didn’t have his blood all over your hands, all over your dress. You didn’t stand in the shower and watch his blood flow down the drain. You didn’t do everything you could to help him and it wasn’t enough.”
Wanda’s eyes filled with tears as yours did.
“You didn’t watch him almost bleed out. You didn’t have to push a needle through his skin to try to hold him together.” “Oh, honey.”
You shook your head, stepping away from her. You went to the sink and turned the water on, pumping soap into your hands and rubbing them together. Wanda lifted a hand to her lips as she watched you, tears sliding down your face and dripping into the sink. When she noticed the steam from the water, she rushed over and turned the water off, turning the cool side on and gently moving your hands under the water. 
You gripped the edges of the sink as Wanda turned the water off. She took your hands in hers, drying them off gently. 
“You don’t have to carry this by yourself.”
You lifted your head, tear-filled eyes meeting hers. She gave you a sad smile, pulling you into a hug. You put your face in her shoulder and let her hold you, not seeing her eyes start to glow red, but feeling your own eyes grow heavier and heavier until you couldn’t help but close them. Your knees slowly buckled and Wanda helped you, going with you until you were laid out and sleeping peacefully on the floor. 
Wanda sighed, going to your door and opening it, whistling softly. Sam and Natasha popped their heads around the corner as Wanda raised an eyebrow, then motioned for them to come. Natasha’s eyes narrowed as she looked around the kitchen, widening when she saw the bananas and the chicken, the needle and thread. 
“Oh my god.” “Sam, can you…?”
He nodded, gently brushing past Natasha as he walked to you, kneeling and lifting your sleeping body into his arms. You curled against his chest and he closed his eyes before carrying you down the hall and into your bedroom. 
Natasha met Wanda’s eyes and Wanda crossed her arms over her stomach. 
“She had a doctor on the computer who was talking her through stitches.” “That’s why she kept stealing the bananas.”
Wanda raised an eyebrow and Natasha walked over, picking up a pristine yellow banana. 
“If you do it correctly…”
She unpeeled the banana and Wanda’s eyebrows raised at the neat black stitches on the peel. 
“You can’t even tell it was peeled.” “She’s out. What’s going on with the prep line in here?”
Natasha showed Sam the stitches in the banana peel and he closed his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest. 
“Shit.”
Natasha and Wanda nodded. After a moment of silence, Wanda spoke. 
“Now comes the hard part. Do we tell Bucky?”
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You woke up with a headache, feeling quite hungover even though you hadn’t drank a drop of alcohol. You sat up in the bed, putting your head in your hands. 
No matter how hard you’d tried, you just couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky and the last mission the two of you went on. You couldn’t get the sight of his pale face out of your head, the way the blood wouldn’t stop, soaking through the bandages you’d tried to put on him. You felt like Lady Macbeth because in your dreams, you couldn’t get his blood off of your hands, no matter how hard you scrubbed. 
You crawled out of bed and went into the bathroom, trying and failing to avoid your reflection in the mirror. There were dark circles under your eyes, and your complexion was dull. You hadn’t left your apartment in a few weeks, hadn’t even gone outside. You were too preoccupied with the bananas and the stitching. 
You sighed and pulled your unwashed hair into a bun on top of your head, leaving the bathroom and coming to a hard stop when you saw the man sitting on your couch. Bucky lifted his eyes to yours, metal hand still as Alpine sniffed all over it.
“Long time no see.”
You nodded. 
“I’ve been busy.” “You’re the one that’s been stealing all the bananas.”
You shook your head. 
“I mean, yeah at first, but I’ve done my own grocery order for a while.” “Why?”
You lifted a hand to scratch at your neck. 
“No reason.” “Babe, we’ve got to work on your tells.”
You felt your cheeks heat up, dropping your hand and looking down at the floor. 
“Tell me why you needed so many bananas, Y/N.” “I went on a banana diet.” “Stop going up on your toes. That's another tell.”
You went to your flat feet, eyes cast down. You heard Alpine’s annoyed mrow as Bucky stood up and when he took a step towards you, you took a step back. He took a step back and you lifted your eyes to his. He held up his hands, sitting back down on the couch. Alpine moved to sit in his metal palm and he smiled. He brought his eyes back to you, seeing you staring at the floor still. 
“Cupcake, look at me.”
You did as he asked, and his voice was gentle when he spoke. 
“Why did you steal all the bananas?” “Why are you so obsessed with bananas? Did they not have them back in the old days?” “Quit deflecting and answering my question with a question. Tell me the truth.” “It doesn’t matter.” “To me, it does.”
You looked away from him as tears welled up in your eyes. Bucky sighed, dragging a hand down his face. 
“If you’re not going to tell me the truth, let me tell you what I think, alright? I think you stole the bananas to practice stitching them up. Because if you do it right, you can’t even tell the banana’s been peeled.”
You looked down at the floor, Alpine sitting up and jumping down from the couch beside Bucky to walk to you. She gave a curious meow when a tear fell from your eyes and landed on her nose. 
“You’ve been practicing stitching until you’re damn near perfect at it.” “I’m not perfect at it.” “Yet another lie.”
You lifted your eyes to his, shaking your head. 
“You don’t understand.” “Enlighten me.”
You didn’t notice your hands were shaking as you spoke, the tears also falling unnoticed. 
“You were dying. You were dying and I was trying to hold you together. I was holding the stupid bandages against the holes in your side and you were dying. I can still smell it, Bucky. The whole room smelled like copper and I couldn’t make it go away.”
You moved your shaking hands to press them against your stomach, and Bucky’s heart lurched when he realized you were pressing on your body the places where he was stabbed. He stood up and you backed away again, the tears coming harder. 
“I kept begging you to stay with me and you kept trying to fucking die. I had to hold your skin and literally stitch you back together with a needle and thread. I’ve never sewn anything in my life and the first thing I ever sewed was you.”
Your back hit the wall and Bucky stopped inches from you. You shook your head, unable to do anything but sob. Bucky took hold of one of your hands, ignoring Alpine’s warning meow and hiss, pressing your palm against his chest. You tried to pull your hand from his grasp, but he had an iron hold on it. 
“Breathe.”
You did, shaking your head as you sobbed. Bucky flattened your palm against the center of his chest and spoke again. 
“Feel that?”
You shook your head, and he squeezed your wrist for a split second, urging you again. 
“Do you feel that?”
You took in a ragged breath, feeling the steady thump of his heart under your palm. You met his icy blue eyes and he raised his eyebrows in question. You nodded, and he adjusted his grip so that both his hands were holding your wrist, holding your palm to the center of his chest. 
“You saved me. My heart is still beating because of you.” “There was so much blood.” “But you stopped it.”
You shook your head. 
“I didn’t do enough.” “Not enough? You saved my life, cupcake.”
You shook your head again. 
“I should have known what to do beforehand—“ “What, because you knew I’d get stabbed?”
Your eyes met his and he shook his head. 
“It doesn’t matter anymore. You did what needed to be done and I’m still here because of it. Because of you.”
Your knees buckled as your hand fell from his chest, but Bucky gathered you in his arms before you hit the floor. You clung to him, arms holding him tightly as you cried into his chest. He held you, flesh hand gently rubbing your back, shushing you softly, but letting you cry. 
He shifted and lifted you into his arms, and you put your face in his shoulder as he carried you down the hall. You felt yourself be lowered to your bed, but you stayed clinging to Bucky until he lay down with you. 
“I got you. Shh. I’m here.”
You kept holding onto him, staying close when he rolled onto his back. You kept your head on his shoulder and an arm around his stomach, one of his arms steady around you and holding you close. You slid your hand up to the middle of his chest, closing your eyes when you felt his strong heartbeat under your palm. 
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Bucky woke with a start, eyes opening to find white fur filling his vision. Alpine tilted her head as Bucky met her blue eyes, and he glanced towards the door when he heard your voice. 
“She’s not the best about sleeping in. I tried to tell her to leave you alone, but… I think she has selective hearing.” “Wonder where she gets that from.”
You rolled your eyes, pressing your towel to your wet hair. Bucky sat up in the bed after sliding Alpine off his chest, smiling at her irritated chirp. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, shifting to where he could look at you. You moved the towel off your head to hold it in your hands, speaking more to it than to Bucky. 
“Thank you for staying with me last night.” “You needed a friend. I didn’t mind.”
You slowly nodded. 
“So we’re friends now?”
Bucky softly smiled as he looked down at his hands, clenching his metal one into a fist, then releasing it. 
“Do you think we are?”
You sighed. 
“I thought you hated me.” “I never hated you.” “You’ve got a weird way of showing that.”
Bucky nodded. 
“You want to know the truth?” “It’d be nice.”
Bucky smiled as he looked over at you. 
“You’re good. And smart, but you listen to your heart more than your head. You’re so much like Steve, and I knew if I didn’t rein you in somehow, you’d sacrifice yourself into the ocean just like he did.” “And that morphed into you hating me … how?” “I never hated you.”
Bucky blew out a breath. 
“It was just easier to fire up that brother/sister relationship with you. And then you gave as good as you got and it was easier to make you think I hated you than to really—“
Your breath caught in your throat when he cut himself off. He shook his head, standing up and heading for the bedroom door. 
“Really what?” “You want coffee?” “I want you to finish what you started.”
He grabbed onto the door frame, looking back over his shoulder at you. 
“You really don’t know where that sentence was going?”
You swallowed and shook your head, and he blew out another breath. 
“C’mon, cupcake. There’s no way you can’t know.”
You did. At least, you thought you did. All those times you caught him looking at you with that soft smile, the way he tried to cover it by rolling his eyes and looking away. The gentle touches when you were hurt, the way he always seemed to be the one to volunteer to go on missions with you. 
The way your heart pounded when you realized he was hurt. 
The fear in your chest you thought would consume you when you couldn’t get the bleeding to stop. 
The begging you did for him to just stay with me, don’t leave me.
“Cupcake?”
You met his eyes with tears welled up in yours. He stepped away from the door and walked to you, shaking his head. 
“What did I say? I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
You shook your head, laying your hands on his chest. 
“You didn’t. I just … I haven’t cried this much in a long time.” “I think you’re sort of emotionally constipated and it’s all coming out now.”
You laughed as you shoved him away. He stumbled back, a blinding smile on his lips. You shook your head. 
“You’re the worst.” “You know you love it.”
You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at the floor and Bucky gave a quiet sigh. He turned away and when he was at the door again, you spoke. 
“I didn’t realize. I mean … I kind of did. But you always acted like you hated me, so I pushed it down and tried to convince myself that I …”
He kept one hand on the door frame, turning his head towards you, keeping his eyes away from you. 
“That what?” “That it wasn’t attraction I felt towards you. Then I tried to convince myself that you were like a brother to me and that hurt more. So I just locked it down and like you said, gave as good as I got.”
Bucky fully turned to face you and you swallowed again. 
“Everything was fine until you got hurt. Faced with the prospect of losing you … I lost it. I tried so hard not to let it show, but I … Bucky, I was so scared. You were so pale and there was so much blood and no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop it.” “You did stop it.” “I thought I was too late. I just prayed that you would wake up and I went and showered with my dress on. Watched the blood go down the drain.”
You sucked in a breath when you saw him in front of you. You’d been staring at the floor, lost in your own mind. Bucky reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from your face. 
“You can’t hold onto that anymore. It’s over. It’s done. No matter what happened in that hotel room, I’m here and I’m fine.” “I can’t stop seeing it. Every time I close my eyes, I see my hands covered in your blood. After I stitched you up, I went into the bathroom and I swear I looked like Carrie after the prom.”
His eyebrows furrowed and you shook your head, waving him off. 
“I can’t just let it go, Buck.” “Then give it to me.”
You looked up and met his eyes, the icy blue earnest as he stared into your eyes. 
“Let me carry it for you.”
You started to shake your head and he took hold of your hands. 
“If not me, then someone else. We’ll find you someone to talk to, who can help you through this.”
You held tightly to his hands and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. You sucked in a breath, letting it out slowly as you closed your eyes. Bucky lifted his head to press his lips against your forehead, and you stepped forward, putting your face in his chest. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around you and you turned your head to where his heartbeat was directly under your ear. You kept your eyes closed as a Bucky started to gently sway. 
“Does this mean you’ll go on a date with me?” “Have you asked me to go on a date with you?” “I thought it was this unspoken thing.”
You shook your head, leaning back and staring up at him. 
“You’re old, and your mind must be going.” “I’ll show you—“
You shut him up by going on your toes and pressing your lips to his. Bucky’s shocked inhale sounded a second before his hands tugged you closer, and you threw your arms around his neck. When you broke apart, both of you silently panting for air, Bucky gave a quiet laugh. 
“Took you long enough.”
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sunflowerrosewood · 28 days
Text
Take a Bullet For You ~ Mafia! Bucky Barnes
Author's Note: Since my other account @cheekyredwillow got deleted. I am adding some of my favorite fanfictions to this account and revamping this one with new ones. I hope to make an actual list of fandoms I am still a fan of! NO requests for the time being.
On to the one shot! This is a mafia alternative universe
You just moved into the New York area to open your coffee shop under your apartment. You knew it was insane to move into an area where one of the roughest mafia gangs resided. The big mafia leader was named James Barnes nicknamed Bucky the Sniper. You knew all of this but continued to move in and set up shop. You didn’t think he was near. 
While you were moving in, Bucky was watching from across the street with his right hand man, Steve. From what he gathered was that you were just a coffee shop owner but he still was intrigued you picked a shitty neighborhood. You seemed confident even though most of your customers would be his mafia. 
“Why are we watching her?” Steve asked. “She’s not important to what we need done.”
“She’s interesting.” Bucky said. 
“Oh no! Don’t get all lovey dovey on me. She wouldn’t walk two seconds in our direction.” Steve snapped.
You continued to set shop up so you could open in the next few days. You opened the shop two days later and a bulky gruff man was your customer. You figured you’d see sketchy people but not the head of the mafia game. He was wearing all black. Combat boots, leather jacket, tighter jeans. 
“Good morning. How may I help you?” You asked, feeling a bit of nervousness settling in. 
“Just a cup of black coffee with a spoonful of sugar ma’am.” He said as he put a $20 on the counter. 
“Okay let me get your change.”
“Wait. Just keep it. You’re new, arntcha?” The guy said. 
“Just moved in a few days ago. I’m Y/n. You must be Bucky the Sniper?” You said putting two and two together.
“You’re not scared?” He asked. 
“At first. But you haven’t done anything to make me think worse of you.” You mentioned before pouring his cup of coffee. 
“You’re definitely different. Not in a bad way of course.” Bucky said nonchalantly before taking his cup to leave. “I’ll be around Y/n.”
You watched Bucky leave the coffee shop. You knew from this moment that nothing would be the same. You did not think you’d meet the mafia leader so soon but c’est la vie I guess. 
But you did not know that you had infiltrated Bucky’s head. For some reason he couldn’t get your e/c eyes filled with wonder. He couldn’t help it. Something about you attracted him. He would tell the rest of the mafia to protect you. 
You wouldn’t notice this in the week. An opposing mafia team tried to kidnap you but before they could even act, Bucky’s mafia members got rid of them. What did make you question is a guy asked for your number at the shop within the same week and never called back. But Bucky was always your first and last customer. 
It had been a week since this and it was a Thursday night. You were closing up shop when Bucky came in groaning. 
“Oh Bucky, I was wondering when y- what happened to you?” You yelled as you heard a few more gunshots. 
A blonde haired guy and a dark skinned guy came in. They were panting. The blondie looked at you. 
“Do you know first aid?” He asked. 
“I d-do.” You stuttered. 
“Then get to work.” He snapped. 
“Steve, quit scar-scaring her.  Just focus on protecting us.” Bucky coughed. 
“Bucky is right. She knows what to do. That other mafia will be here shortly.” The dark skinned guy snapped. 
“Sam, have any of the others called?” Steve asked. 
You quickly ran to the back to grab the first aid kit. As you ran back, Steve and Sam were outside with a few others. Gunshots rang out as you sat by Bucky’s side. 
“I need to remove your shirt.” You said softly. 
“Already undressing me sweetheart.” Bucky drawled out but took off his shirt. 
“Oh shut it.” You snapped but chuckled a bit. 
“Good. Keep that smile. I’ll be okay with you.” Bucky said as he placed his hand on your thigh. “After this, we are going to finally have that date.” 
“Wh-what?!” You exclaimed before washing his wound. 
“Don’t tell me you didn’t notice my affections.” Bucky teased as you pulled the bullet out that was lodged into his side. “Warn me next time!”
“How about not throwing surprises out?” You said as you grabbed the disinfectant. “Okay this will sting.” 
Bucky hissed for a minute as you continued to clean. The gunshots slowed down and finally stopped. You helped Bucky sit up as Steve and Sam came back in. 
“We told the others to go home. Do you want us to stay?” Steve asked. 
“I’ll be better shortly. I still have to discuss some things with Y/n.” Bucky said as Sam cackled. 
“Are you going to quit acting like a lovesick puppy?” Sam cackled. “Hell that bullet was suppose to hit her but you got in the way.”
“What?” You exclaimed. 
“I guess that’s our cue to leave.” Steve said as he was pushing Sam out the door. 
“So when were you going to tell me that?” You questioned as Bucky shakily stood up. He laughed softly as you saw a warm blush appear on his face. 
“I guess I should explain that.” Bucky said. “I was trying not to fall for you. But when I did, the other mafias saw you as a toy or token to me.”
“So you just decided to take the bullet?” 
“Aren’t we forgetting the whole “taking you on a date”? I would take any bullet for you to be safe. I have fallen for you.” Bucky explained as your face flushed with heat. 
Bucky pulled you into his arms and kissed your cheek. You smiled at him and squeezed his neck for a hug.
“After you heal, you can take me on that date anytime.” You said as you felt him squeeze back. 
You felt Bucky chuckle against the hold. You two broke the hug and Bucky began to leave. You felt a piece of paper in your back pocket. It was his number but before you could say anything, Bucky had left. 
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Y/N: Natasha, you're testifying in an aggravated assault case tomorrow, and the D.A. is worried about how you'll present yourself on the stand.
Natasha: Why? I'm fine on the stand!
*flashback to Testimony #1*
Natasha: Look, I'll make this real simple so even these idiots can understand.
Natasha, to the jury: MAN DID CRIME.
*flashback to Testimony #2*
Natasha: I'm sorry, could you make her stop doing that weird thing with her face?
Defense Attorney, next to the crying defendant: ...Crying?
*flashback to Testimony #3*
Natasha: And when this is over, I'm gonna find you and I'm gonna break those little fingers.
Judge: Could the witness please stop threatening the stenographer?
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