#mcu oneshot

[narcissisticmf]

give in | bucky barnes x fem!reader

description: during a mission, y/n and bucky must appear as though they are romantically together despite their true hateful feelings towards one another.

trigger warnings: fake dating, enemies to lovers, foul language, seductive behavior, sexual content, oral sex, unprotected sex, praise, a lot of tension, gun usage, knife usage, graphic violence, etc. please do not proceed in reading if you are under the age of 18. thank you.

word count: 2.6k

Sat in the back of the Quinjet, you were getting an outfit put together against your body; a skin tight black dress that revealed your curves perfectly. Your eyes gazed into the mirror as you looked at your reflection, applying a thin layer of red lipstick to your mouth. Your hair was pinned back and a silver chain laid around your neck.

The Quinjet rumbled against your feet, you were wearing pumps. It was difficult to stand in them for a while, your feet begun to ache, but you swallowed the pain as though it was just a thick pill.

You were to attend a private party to retrieve some stolen serums by Hydra. Bucky would be your second, to assist you in the retrieval. The two of you were to appear at the party as two guests. You and James didn't get along well, for a reason you didn't particularly understand; just that he got under your skin and you got under his.

Hidden in the skirts of your black dress was a dagger strapped to your undergarments. You smirked softly at your reflection and released a breath as the Quinjet finally landed somewhere rural, far from where the party would take place.

You slowly grasped a hold of your hand back, that contained several useful weaponry if needed. You walked past Bucky without making direct eye contact with him. He was dressed in all black, his hair was slicked back and slightly longer than you remembered and the stubble across his jawline looked freshly trimmed. He was.. he was..

Handsome. Divinely handsome.

Swallowing hard, you sensed Bucky was following you as you exited the Quinjet to walk towards the black car that was parked not far from the landing site. The backseat door opened for you by the driver. You slipped inside and sat with perfect posture and eventually Bucky climbed in after you. He sat with a fair distance as the driver shut the door.

.

Slowly stepping out of the car, you accepted the help of the driver by taking his hand and standing upon the pavement. You waited for Bucky to step out and when he did, you finally stared up to him.

He held out his metal arm — that was covered by a black blazer and his hands were concealed by gloves to disguise his true identity. He waited for you to lock it with his. You stared at his arm for a moment before slowly slipping your exposed arm into his.

"For this to work," Bucky whispered and lifted your chin to meet his eyes, "We must appear madly in love."

You exhaled softly, almost inaudible, "No problem."

The corner of Bucky's lips curved into a grin as the two of you walked towards the entrance. In order to gain entree, you and Bucky gave false names that were in the list of invitees. The whole time, your heart was pounding. Your face concealed that completely; not once showing an ounce of nervousness or anxiety.

Bucky kept close beside you. Your eyes bounced about the large ballroom. You tried to remember where the serums were kept hidden from what Tony and Steve instructed earlier in the week and the map they showed both you and Bucky.

If memory served you right, the serums were locked in a safe several floors below.

Your eyes locked with a man by the bar, sipping a glass of whiskey slowly. His dark eyes remained on you firmly. You slowly turned to face Bucky, so close that it seemed to fluster you.

"That man at the bar," You whispered, "I think he's Hydra."

Bucky kept his gaze on you, though you sensed he could see the man at the bar out of the corner of his eye. "Should we make him uncomfortable for staring?" He smirked slowly.

"What?" You parted your glossy lips and felt Bucky's breath against your mouth; you could almost taste it. Your body tensed as Bucky's arms snuck around your waist, pulling you in tightly. You felt your breath caught in your throat at the motion and how his hands felt against your sides. He squeezed softly, causing your knees to buckle. It was a good thing he held you.

"Give into it, sweetheart," Bucky whispered.

"Give into what?" You challenged, feeling your nose brush against his cheek; not purposefully.

Bucky eyes locked with yours as his lips slowly pressed against your mouth, enclosing whatever distance remained between you. Your body tensed at first, your core pulsed with adrenaline. It didn't take long before you gave into it. You found your lips entwined with Bucky's, tasting every inch of his breath; mint. Gaining some form of confidence and control, your hands found their way up to his face, cupping his jawline and cheeks.

Your eyes were closed as you fell into his chest, body growing weak. Slowly, he pulled back and found his gaze on you for a while. You breathed heavily, making a horrible attempt to keep it quiet. His eyes flicked upward, behind you, to see the man was gone.

"He's gone," Bucky spoke lowly.

You nodded slowly and pulled back just a few inches. A thought crept your mind as you smirked and tugged Bucky through the crowd of people dressed elegantly. You made your way towards the elevator. You didn't need to see Bucky's face to know he also had a coy smile on his lips.

Pressing your fingers to the button against the wall, you turned back to Bucky to press a hungry kiss to his mouth. If he was surprised, he didn't show it. Perhaps, he was expecting it. You held onto the collar of his black shirt and as soon as the elevator doors opened, the two of you stumbled inside. Without parting from his mouth, you reached back to press the correct floor where the stolen serums were hidden.

Nobody paid heed to the two of you. Who would? You were simply two individuals in need of the other.

Once the doors closed and the elevator began to descend, you parted from Bucky. He was breathless and you were too. You leaned against the wall and breathed through your nose, your red painted lips smeared only slightly. Bucky stood a foot or two from you, staring at the elevator doors.

"Think they bought that?" Bucky questioned with a slight chuckle in the back of his throat.

"I think so," You nodded.

Once the doors opened, you swiftly pulled out your dagger from under the skirt of your dress and saw several agents of Hydra surrounding the safe in which the serums were locked in.

Bucky smirked as he stood beside you and pulled out a handgun that he kept smuggled in the back of his pants. The two of you walked out of the elevator with complete ease and smoothness.

"Hey! You're not supposed to be down here!" One of the men shot you and Bucky a look of annoyance. When you and Bucky didn't cower, he knew who you both must've been. There were six men; three each for you and Bucky.

You made haste and quickly used your dagger to slice an agent in the thighs, causing him to falter to the ground in pain. One of them grabbed your arm and made a fist with his free hand. You smiled and kicked the heel of your pump into his groin. Watching him sink to the ground, you made your way for another and used the hilt of your dagger, striking the man in the chest.

Bucky wasn't going to use his weapon unless he truly needed to. He was swift and confident with his strikes. Eventually, you both had all six of them against the floor.

"Lovely," You spoke dryly and made your way to the safe. This part was all Bucky; all he needed to do was use the strength of his arm to break open the metal.

You retrieved all of the stolen serums and shoved them into your handbag before casually leaving the party.

.

In your bedroom of the compound, you used a wipe to remove the layers of cosmetics that were upon your face. You had a long shower once the makeup was off and stood before your mirror, applying lotion to the dry parts of your skin. You wore a light pink silk robe to cover your naked body beneath.

A knock was heard against your door. You slowly stopped what you were doing and led yourself to the wooden door, opening it slightly to reveal Bucky.

"May I help you?" You questioned, with slight condescension.

Bucky swallowed, his throat bobbed. Your gaze softened as he appeared.. nervous. He slowly entered the room and you allowed him, not fighting or challenging him in such a state. He latched the door shut behind him and stared at you, his gaze flickered to your lips.

"What are you doing–" You started, but were interrupted by his mouth on yours. You didn't fight it and allowed him to slip his arms around your waist, squeezing your curves perfectly. Your hair was still damp from the shower as he gripped the back of it firmly, slowly pulling your head back.

"I can't get you outta my head, doll," Bucky breathed out desperately. You stared at him, not once breaking eye contact. "That sweet scent of yours.." He lowered his head to your neck, taking in a breath of the vanilla soap you used from the shower. "And the way you taste," He raised his head and attached his lips to yours once more. Bucky groaned at the flavor of your lipbalm.

It wasn't long before he had your back against the large bed of yours. Your hands were in his hair, gently tugging at the ends of it. He slowly rocked his hips into yours as you moaned shakily against his mouth.

"Wanna get this off you.." Bucky whispered gesturing to the robe you had on, grasping a hold of the knot at the front. "May I?" He asked, looking into your eyes.

"Yes," You nodded and he made haste, swiftly untying the knot and pulling it from your body. He tossed it to the carpet floor and smiled down at you. You had absolutely nothing on underneath that robe. His large hands made contact with your skin. The cold metal of his left hand made you shiver softly, a smile against your mouth.

"Your turn," You breathed out, gesturing to his clothes.

As quickly as he removed your robe, he undid his pants, yanking them off with ease. He became completely uncladded before you. You took the opportunity to admire how truly beautiful he was. Perhaps, in the past, you hadn't taken the time to notice how perfect he was.

His lips collapsed into yours. He was hungry. You released a breath just before he found his mouth on yours. You arched your back so that your breasts were pressed up against his chest. Bucky smiled into your mouth and firmly pushed your hips down against the mattress.

"Patience," He whispered into your ear and let his teeth gently toy with your lobe.

You nodded slowly and breathed out as his lips came into contact with your neck. You exhaled and leaned your head back, trying to suppress the moans that were threatening to come out of you.

"Do you still hate me, Y/N?" Bucky mumbled against the skin of your throat.

"Yes," You shakily breathed out.

Bucky smiled and used his metal fingers to cup your breast. You whined in response and closed your eyes. His mouth pressed to your nipple, letting his tongue swirl and mouth suck on the sensitive skin. You curled your toes in response, grasping the sheets with one hand and with the other you entangled your fingers in the back of his hair.

He hummed at the feeling your hardened nipple against his tongue. You felt your core pulse and arousal begun to stick to your inner thighs.

Bucky used his metal fingers to run down your stomach, sides and hips. You shivered at the cold feeling.

"How about now, sweetheart?" Bucky raised his head to watch your face. "Do you still hate me now?" He slipped his metal hand between your legs and dragged them up and down your entrance, the wetness coated his hand.

"No," You opened your eyes and shook your head, staring at him as your chest rose and fell rapidly. He slipped a finger inside as you opened your mouth to moan softly. As quickly as your eyes opened, they closed to soak in the feeling of that cold metal pumping in and out of you. You spread your legs to allow him better access. You didn't realize it, but he started lowering himself. He took in the scent of your arousal and hummed with a soft smile.

Bucky pulled your metal fingers out and replaced them with his mouth between your legs. You whined audibly and reached down to entangle your fingers in his hair. He opened his eyes to stare up at you, watching the way your body reacted to his motions.

The way your back arched at each flick of his tongue and the way your grip in his hair tightened the deeper he pushed his face in.

You couldn't deny the reactions your body was having even if you tried. Bucky knew exactly what he was doing and took note of what felt good for you.

"I wanna be inside you, Y/N," Bucky pulled his head back slightly and kissed your inner thighs. He rose his body up to press kisses along your lower stomach, humming softly as he did so.

You pulled him up to your face and kissed his lips deeply, tasting yourself against him. You parted your legs as a way to signal that you wanted him inside you as well. He smiled into your mouth and held your thigh firmly with his metal hand.

Slowly, he guided himself inside you. You wanted to scream and rip the sheets with how tightly you gripped them. Your eyes filled with tears at how amazing he felt and fit inside you.

"You feel amazing, sweetheart," Bucky pressed his lips to your mouth. You reached your hands up to drape around his neck, gently squeezing his skin, unable to contain how good he felt.

"Oh God, Buck.." You whispered, moaning into his ear. He rocked his hips, moving in and out of you with ease. You were so comfortable with him.

"Such a good girl," He whispered darkly into your ear, "Taking me so well." You arched your back and whined at his words. You wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to stay as close against him as possible.

It wasn't long before the knot in your stomach slowly came undone.

"Oh, Y/N.. I can feel that," Bucky moaned and kissed you deeply. "You gonna come around me?" You pressed your lips into his harder to muffle the screams you wanted to let out. You reached a pinnacle and slowly pulled your lips back from his.

Bucky slowly pulled from inside you and released his load against your stomach. You arched your back and moaned at the intoxicating feeling of his release against your skin. It was oddly cold.

You were breathless and tired. Bucky was also as he laid beside you. You laughed nervously and turned your head to press a longing kiss to his lips.

"Happy you finally gave into it?" Bucky smirked into your kiss.

You smiled and pulled back, "Yes, are you?"

His smile said enough.

.

a/n: im so sorry i haven't been as active on here!! i've been doing a lot of reading lately more so than writing! also how would yall feel about some acotar fics?? ehh?? maybe?? i've been really thinking about writing some azriel fics! if that's something you guys wanna read, please let me know! i love you guys mwah! — angelina.

#smut #imagine #reader #x reader #edit #marvel #marvel bucky #marvel x reader #marvel edit #marvel oneshot #marvel fic #bucky barnes #mcu #mcu oneshot #mcu phase 4 #mcu x reader #mcu x you #mcu x y/n #marvel x you #marvel x y/n #tfatws x reader #tfatws #james bucky barnes #mcu bucky #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #sam wilson #avengers #avengers x y/n #avengers x reader

[miguelslefteyebrow]

001

Pairing : Miguel O' Hara X Reader

Genre : fluff

Summary : In which you, his best friend, takes care of him when he's sick.

Wordcount: 1.5k lol 

Miguel O'Hara Masterlist

An odd sound leaves Miguel's lips, something between a cough and clearing his throat and he glances at you with the hope you won't notice.

Which you of course do.

You've been his best friend for years. The only person he hasn't lost yet. The only person he allows to be close to him. And the only one in his universe who knows of his identity and occupation. The other spiders know who you are aswell. You don't have any powers as you aren't a spiderman variant, but the other spiders like you a lot. Probably more than they like Miguel. ( You're often their ticket to getting stuff easy through him.)

" Are you okay?"

He glances at you with his usual, brooding expression, before his eyes move back to the screens focused on the multiverse.

" Ju-" 

As he tries to speak his voice sounds extremely hoarse, and so he clears his throat.

" Just fine."

You shake your head.

" No you're not. You sound hoarse. Are you sick?" You ask him.

He doesn't turn to answer.

If you were anyone else, he'd glare at you, maybe even tell you to mind your own business. But he doesn't. Of course he doesn't. 

Miguel's aware he's got at least a bit of a crush on you.

When he doesn't reply, you approach him. He watches in concealed curiousity what you're about to do.

He freezes when you raise the back of your hand to his head. He can't help but lean into your slight touch, turning qinqto absolute putty in your hands.

It's a pitty you retrace your hand all too soon, followed with a surprised expression.

" Miguel, you're heating up! You definitly have a fever.-"

" I'm fine Mi Perla-"

You scoff, cutting him off mid sentence.

" No you're not. You're sick. And you're going to rest, we're not going to argue over that. Layla?!"

Miguel can't stop you as you call out to his assistant.

" No, I have work, you know the multiverse rests on-"

" Y/N, what can I do for you?"

Yes, even his AI seems to like you more than him, something that makes him roll his eyes.

" I know, the multiverse rests on your shoulders. Didn't you build an entire team to help you with it?" You reply, giving him a pointed look before turning to the AI.

" Hi Layla, can you call Jess in please? Tell her Miguel's taking the day off, he's sick." You tell her.

" Will do! Get well soon boss." Layla says, turning to Miguel before dissapearing again.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words leave his brain the minute you gently grab hold of his hand.

" C'mon. Let's get you to bed."

-

And going to bed he did. After you've personally delivered him to his room and instructed him to get changed into something more comfortable, he finds himself fast asleep the minute he lays down.

When he wakes up again, you're back, seated beside his bed on the floor, leaning your head on the edge of his bed. The tv in his room is on, and he recognises a series you've told him about a few times playing. As soon as he moves, you're moving aswell.

" Hey, how're you feeling? Too hot? Do you need me to refresh the towel?" You ask him hurriedly, moving to get up.

He stops you by placing a hand on your shoulder, taking his time to sit up. The folded cold towel which was laid on his forehead dropping in his lap, his skin still feeling feverish.

" Why are you seated on the floor?" He asks instead, bypassing al your questions.

You blink, before glancing around the room.

" There's no chairs in here." You point out.

" You could've sat on my bed. It's more comfortable." He explains plainly.

You blink again. 

It isn't as if his bed is small. Considering he runs the entire team, his bedroom is the biggest, a nice spacious room, with a spacious bed. 

When you don't reply, he speaks again.

" Come sit down." 

He pats the spot beside him.

" You sure you don't need the space considering you're sick and stuff?" 

He rolls his eyes.

" Sit down before I'll drag you on myself." 

At the well intentioned threat, you finally move, getting up and eventually seating yourself beside him on the bed. 

" You didn't reply to my questions though." You point out, turning to look at him.

He gives you one of his rare smiles.

" Don't worry, I'm alright." 

" Okay. Tell me when you're feeling hungry though, I'll make you soup." You smile at him.

The two of you sit like that for quite a while, Miguel joining you in watching the series.

He feels pampered with the way you care for him, refusing to let him as much as lift a finger.

At some point, he eventually has to go to the toilet. When he comes back, he sits slightly closer to you, his arm touching yours. He feels a flutter in his chest when you lean your head on his shoulder.

Later on, after diner and back to watching tv (stuff he picked out this time, doesn't matter that he falls asleep every so often in between.), the two of you are once again back to comfortable sitting beside one another on his bed. 

" You can lay down if you'd like?" He suggests, noticing you shift every so often in your spot.

" Wouldn't that be a little, I don't know, uncomfortable for you? To share your bed like that?" You ask, tilting your head.

He shakes his head, not even having to think about it.

" You're my best friend. I don't mind."

" Okay, wake me up if I fall asleep though. Or if you need something." You tell him before getting comfortable.

20 minutes pass before you fall asleep, just as you had expected. 

Miguel watches you for a few moments with a small affectionate smile. You looked so peaceful, he couldn't bring himself to wake you. 

His fever has gone down quite a bit, his skin thankfully not feeling feverish anymore thanks to his quicker healing. 

Eventually he decides to turn off the light, climbing back in bed before, also daring to throw an arm around your middle.

-

When he wakes up again, his fever is gone, and so are you.

Although he's a little dissapointed, he does understand you probably left for a fresh set of clothes and everything.

He's also made it clear that he doesn't want you to walk home by yourself at night (you often leave at ungodly hours, or really late. You'vefallen asleep in his office a few times before.) Your apartment is thankfully not too far off from HQ, and he trusts you've asked one of the other spiders to have walked you home.

He's become a little overprotective over you considering you're the last person outside of his business he has.

-

It's midday when he sees you again, having just returned for a mission. You're seated at his desk, swiping at your phone when he walks in.

" Mi Perla." He calls you in greeting.

You look up from your screen, smiling as you spot him and pocketing your phone.

" Miguel, how are you feeling? I take it your fever left?" You approach him.

He hums. You raise your hand to check again, and he subconsciously slightly lowers his head more into your reach.

" That does feel better, glad you're okay." You tell him, retracing your hand.

He takes your hand in his, and the surprise on your face is evident as he raises the back of your hand to his lips.

" Thank you for taking care of me last night, Mi Perla."

002

[ A/N: I actually really enjoyed writing this. Let me know if you'd like to read a pt.2 or send me requests please. I really want to write more about him but my brain is a little blank.]

#marvel fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o' hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #spiderman across the spider verse #idkeitherman #mcu oneshot #miguel o'hare imagine

[heliads]

I’d like to request a Pietro imagine. Pietro survived and became an Avenger. The female reader doesn’t have powers and isn’t an Avenger. She’s really smart and works with Tony and Bruce in the lab. She was hired after the whole Ultron fiasco. People underestimated her intelligence in high school and college because she’s a girly girl and loves the colour pink, but the Avengers aren’t like that. Pietro likes her and wants to date her.

'waiting around' - pietro maximoff

masterlist

When they tell Pietro he has to go to the labs, his first thought is to run.

He knows it’s silly. These are not the same doctors who made the Maximoff twins strong and fast and utterly alone in this world, these are the scientists with the Avengers. They’re the good guys. Apparently. But Pietro has learned fairly quickly that people calling themselves good aren’t always good in the end.

Pietro has a lot of learning to do since he and Wanda escaped Ultron a few months back. He’s doing his best to be patient and take things ‘one step at a time,’ as the Americans keep telling him. Mainly, he would like their steps to be faster. Pietro has things to do, and they don’t usually involve waiting in line for someone else to decide if he’s worthy of their loyalty or not. The Avengers are trying, he knows that. It’s just hard sometimes.

Especially when Pietro is still trying to shake off the feeling that he should have died back in Sokovia. He came away with his share of narrow escapes, but there was one moment towards the end, when the ships were firing at him, when Clint needed his help, that Pietro thought would be his last. Luckily, he was faster than a few bullets, but there’s still this nagging voice in the back of Pietro’s subconscious that whispers to him late at night:  what if you hadn’t been fast enough?

So he’s been uneasy as of late. What about it? Stress is common in inhumans and Avengers, one glance around this coffee-dependent complex could tell him that. Still, it’s a good thing to get checked out. That’s part of the reason Pietro is being directed to the labs, along with a need for a good annual physical.

It sounds good, too, were it not for the fact that Pietro has had plenty of experience with laboratories in the past few years and none of it was good. The Hydra labs made him strong, in a sense, but they were torturous. He can still remember the pile of corpses ushered out every day, the experiments that failed. He remembers curling up in a corner of his cell, begging his body not to give out, not to make him another body in a bag. He lived, but he remembers.

This is not Hydra. Pietro knows that. He left them behind. Still, there will always be some part of him that shrinks away from every syringe, that distrusts every doctor who comes poking and prodding at the bizarre novelty that is an inhuman. That will never go away, no matter who’s side he’s on.

Still, the lab remains. He has to go in, the others will know if he doesn’t. At first, Pietro hesitates just outside the door, afraid to knock, afraid to listen. There was always a chill in the air throughout the Hydra complex, he remembers the gooseflesh forever on his skin. Signs that nothing good happened within the walls. Or maybe it was just because of the stone buildings in cold climates. Everything has an explanation.

He can’t back out now. Pietro grits his teeth and swings the door open in one broad movement. For a moment, he stands there, waiting to walk back into his old cell, his old life, and then he looks around and realizes with a grin that he’s going to be fine. This isn’t a Hydra ploy to get him back under their thumb. For one thing, Hydra never used this much pink. Just barren walls and gloomy, monstrous skull logos. In retrospect, that should have been a bad sign. Pietro has a problem with ignoring details, though, and it tends to get him in trouble.

These details, however, are quite difficult to be ignored. Everywhere Pietro looks, he sees pinpricks of pink– the handle of a pipette, labels on equipment, notebooks full of scrawled data points, hair ties in a carefully organized container. No, Hydra never had this much fun, and Pietro is starting to think that this is going to be very fun indeed.

Smirking to himself, Pietro weaves further through the lab. He sees a few assistants scurrying around in the back, but they pay him no mind so he does the same. Pietro almost reaches the end of the room when a sudden voice calls out to him:  “Don’t take another step.”

Instantly, Pietro freezes. The owner of the voice walks towards him, a young woman about his age in a lab coat. She must be the owner of the lab, too, because he spots a pink tie in her hair matching the others near the door. The name stitched onto the left breast pocket of her lab coat reads Dr. Y/N L/N, so Pietro knows she’s the one he was supposed to find.

She points to Pietro’s feet, where he notices are just touching a line of caution tape on the ground. “If you went any further, you’d be at risk of getting your eyes blinded by the lasers,” she informs him cheerfully.

Pietro’s face drops. Only now does he notice the hazard signs. “Huh. Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

Y/N arches a brow. “Do you always wander around lab space without watching where you’re going? Seems like an awfully dangerous habit for me.”

Pietro grins. “Well, I usually rely on my reflexes to get me out of trouble. I’m pretty quick.”

To prove it, he uses his speed to instantly move right behind the woman. She spins around, donning an indignant look that Pietro decides is very cute. “Don’t do that,” she scolds him.

Pietro folds his arms across his chest, grin broadening. “Why not?”

“I’ll tell Steve you’d like to do some weight training with him in the gym, and you think you can outlift him,” she threatens.

Pietro feigns surrender. “Anything but that, please.”

At last, Y/N’s lips twitch up into a smile. “That’s what I thought you’d say. Now, let’s focus. Tony sent you in to get a checkup, right?”

Pietro nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Wrong,” she tells him. “Tony actually sent you in here to get on my nerves. He does that a lot. I’m busy and he likes distracting me. We’re going to get through this as quickly as possible, alright?”

Pietro has to fight not to laugh. “And here I thought everyone in the labs gets along.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Most of the time, yes. Except when he sticks me with babysitting duty.”

“This isn’t babysitting,” Pietro protests, “I’m getting to know you. I already feel like we’re the best of friends.”

Something that might be a smile flits across Y/N’s face, but she takes great pains to hide it to him. Pietro, who has always cared a little too much about getting people to laugh at his jokes, follows her like a dog as she walks through her lab. “You can laugh, you know. It won’t kill you.”

The smile is gone as quickly as it appeared, and Pietro instantly wishes he hadn’t said a word. “I’m working right now,” she tells him abruptly. “That means I’m focused. Don’t get in my way.”

Surprised and somewhat hurt by her shift in mood, Pietro goes quiet, but he can’t resist asking a second later, “I’m not trying to interfere with your work, I promise. Does that often happen?”

Y/N goes still. Pietro is half expecting her to just ignore him when she finally speaks at last, very quiet and very unlike the fiery personality he’d seen before. “Every time someone new comes in here. And with half the people I’ve already met, anyway. You’d be surprised what a few pink accessories can do to someone’s reputation, and their credibility in a lab.”

Pietro grimaces. “I’m sorry about that, honest. That’s not what I was going for, by the way. I joke with everyone.”

At last, Y/N meets his eyes. There’s a faint tint of humor swimming in her gaze. “I think I got that.”

She’s smiling, though, so he takes that as a good sign. Once that initial barrier was crossed, Y/N opens up a little more, and then Pietro finds himself stopping by her lab almost every day when he’s not off on a mission. He sees her thrilled with success after an experiment worked, and desolate when they don’t. He sees her consumed with stress. He sees her brow knit with careful concern as she patches him up after a mission. Through all of it, Pietro is increasingly risky with his heart, and then one day, he knows he loves her.

It’s a foolish thing to do. Y/N has confided in him many times that she’s afraid people only will see her as a girl first and a researcher second, someone who can be taken out for drinks but never a valid source of knowledge. If he makes his move now, she’ll never forgive him for being just like the others.

So he doesn’t say a thing, and descends further and further into hopelessness. Wanda says he’s ridiculously obvious, but Y/N still doesn’t seem to have noticed a thing, so maybe the only person more oblivious than Pietro is Y/N, and that’s saying something. Pietro doesn’t want to ruin their friendship, but as the days slip by and Pietro only falls more in love with her, he wonders if he hasn’t already ruined it by always wanting more than he can have.

He’s starting to wonder if he is simply going to carry this secret with him forever, until Y/N catches him at it one evening. The night is growing late, and Pietro has retreated to one of his favorite hiding places in the Avengers complex, Y/N’s lab, to watch her conduct her experiments and indulge in some idle chatter. They’ve grown quiet, and Pietro is leaning against a benchtop, doing nothing but watch her. Some of the motion-sensor lights in the corners of the lab have gone off from inactivity, giving the lights above them an extra glow. The light plays upon Y/N’s face and makes her eyes shine.

Pietro is just thinking that he’s never seen someone more beautiful in his entire life when Y/N looks up and catches him in the act. Instantly, Pietro pretends as if he’d simply been watching her pipette some samples into the well plates in front of her, but her brow is already furrowing and she’s asking him what’s wrong.

Pietro shrugs elaborately. “Nothing, nothing. Just thinking.”

“Really?” She asks, grinning slightly. “I didn’t think that was a normal thing to you.”

Pietro rolls his eyes. “Very funny.”

“I thought so,” Y/N hums. “What were you thinking about? You seemed very preoccupied.”

“Nothing,” Pietro repeats, but Y/N doesn’t seem convinced.

“Come on, I didn’t think we were the type to keep secrets from each other. What are you trying to hide?” Y/N asks.

Pietro scratches the back of his head, suddenly awkward. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Even better,” she says, laughing slightly. “What is it?”

Pietro should stay silent, but he can feel the secret rising up his lungs and forcing itself out before he gets the chance. “I’m in love with you,” he blurts out.

Y/N’s eyes widen. Whatever she was expecting him to say, it obviously wasn’t that. “Oh,” she says quietly.

“Yeah,” Pietro says, wanting to stab himself in the eye with a nearby multitool. “Oh.”

He eyes the door, and has just decided that a strategic retreat is the best move when Y/N interjects, “I love you too, you know.”

Pietro turns around so hastily that he almost upsets a nearby rack of micropipettes. “What? You do?”

She’s glancing at her work, but he can tell that she’s embarrassed. “Yeah. Thought you knew.”

“Obviously I didn’t, or I would have done something about it,” Pietro blurts out.

Y/N glances up again, smiling again. “Like what?”

“Like take you out on a date,” Pietro returns. “How about it? This Friday. Seven. I’ll pick you up.”

Y/N laughs. “That sounds good to me.”

It sounds good to Pietro, too. When he leaves Y/N’s lab at the end of the day, he’s practically giddy. All this time, he was afraid of telling her, and now he’s wishing he spilled his guts much earlier. Regardless, he has what he wants. They’ll have their date, and Pietro is going to feel like he’s on top of the world.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @blondsauduun, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy, @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff imagines #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff oneshot #quicksilver #quicksilver imagines #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver oneshot #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #marvel oneshot #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #mcu oneshot #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #avengers oneshot

[somethingeden]

The Hurtful Truth

Summary: Y/n is fed up with trying to make her lover, Bucky, remember her. So, after a failed mission he goes to check on her and confronts her on her behaviour.

Warnings: Swearing, un-detailed violence??

Word count: 380 words (sorry I will do more words in the future).

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

The mission was going horrible. It was supposed to be simple, get in and get out with the captives. But no, you just had to fuck it up. You just had to trip over a wire that was where you were hiding. You just had to get bloody caught. Because of that, all the captives were killed on the spot as it turns out, they were just bait.

“Y/n! on your left!” Your brother, Steve yells as you kick a HYDRA Agent away. You turn sharply around to face the so-called agent that your brother called to you but then you get flung across the grass field towards a tree. Your back erupts in pain as your back hits the tree, so you find yourself crumbled on the ground. You can only hear ringing in your ears as you groan. 

Tears stream down your cheeks as you slowly heave yourself off the ground. Stumbling forward you soon collapse back onto the ground. The last thing you witness is Wanda sprinting towards you while her lips move but all you hear is still the ringing of a bell, before your eyes flutter close into darkness.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

Your eyes slowly but gradually open but you find your lips curl up into a scowl as the lights blind you. Wincing as you turn your eyes to the right you find your brother impatiently seated on a chair. “Y/n. You are awake”, Steve grins. 

Your head tilts to the side as you find a man standing at the doorway. “Jamie?” Your throat croaks out as it demands for rest. 

“Hello doll” Bucky answers and pushes off the wall to her side. He glances at her blonde brother and nods slightly. Steve then plants his lips on my forehead before walking out of the room. “Doll, what happened?”

“What do you mean? Do you mean the mission?” You flinch as you recount the memories of it. “So many people…. So many people lost their lives… because I fucked up” 

“What happened, happened. You didn’t fuck it up okay. I was not asking about the mission.. but your behaviour since we have met. It’s like you know something and are avoiding me!” He softly furrows his brows in frustration and his eyes bore into yours.

#mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #winter solider x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #mcu oneshot #somethingeden

[leascorner]

j.b.b. | Bullet

Summary: Before he could comprehend what was really happening, he noticed the red liquid dripping through her fingers. Shock transformed into horror as they both realized that blood was literally flowing out of her body. Nobody needed to be a doctor to know the bullet had most likely struck through a major artery and that she would be dead in a matter of minutes.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Avengers!f!reader

Warnings: Major angst, description of wounds and mention of blood, mention of violence, mention of guns, probably inexact medical facts, deaths, mention of trauma/PTSD.

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

Bucky jumped to his left, purposely moving away from the path of the bullet that was fired from afar. He heard it pass through the air, finally not too far from him and eventually entering in contact with flesh, piercing through the guts of the person behind him.

A quick look behind him made his blood run cold. Y/N was standing there, a look of pure shock on her face, a look that Bucky was now mirroring at the perfection. Her weapon was on the ground a few steps in front of her; it looked like her body had taken a few steps back under the impact. His eyes went from his position to the newly formed tiny hole in her belly that both of her hands reached out to cover immediately.

Before he could comprehend what was really happening, he noticed the red liquid dripping through her fingers. Shock transformed into horror as they both realized that blood was literally flowing out of her body. Nobody needed to be a doctor to know the bullet had most likely struck through a major artery and that she would be dead in a matter of minutes.

Lashing out the full ammunition of her gun on to the soldiers in front of them, Natasha wrapped her free arm around Y/N’s waist, supporting her before she collapsed on the floor. Steve was screaming in his earpiece, but Bucky couldn’t hear him over the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears.

Covering for Natasha, Bucky also shot whatever was left of his ammunition in front of him while they moved to a cover place; he didn’t even look to make sure his shots were going in the right direction - and they probably were not. His eyes were on Y/N at all times.

As soon as he felt like no other bullet could hit them, Bucky dropped his gun and helped Natasha lean Y/N against the wall. His first reflex was to take his jacket off and press it hard against her wound. She hissed in pain, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. Against his palms, the materials of his jacket had become sticky, absorbing all of the blood that was coming out of her body.

“Bucky”, her voice called him out.

Bucky’s eyes were still staring at her belly that was shaking with every pump of her heart. He couldn’t look at her face, not when he needed to focus on keeping her alive, just a little bit longer while Steve found a way to bring them a med jacket that would stop the bleeding in an instant or that Natasha finally found one in this fucking bag they were carrying for this mission.

“Love,” she reached to his cheek to have him turn and look at her. She grimaced at the blood that was now covering his cheekbone and beard.

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

Bucky shook his head no; tears falling down his cheeks without being able to control them. She looked so livid that for a moment he thought she was already dead. He would have liked to seem cool headed and yet, his own hands had becoming shaky, betraying his own fear. As she seemed to notice, she put one of her own very shaky hands above his, squeezing them ever so slightly from the lack of force.

He was losing her.

“You’ll be fine,” she reassured him with a weak smile.

No, he wouldn’t be fine. He couldn’t be fine. He couldn’t live without her. She had brought so much joy and love to his life when he thought he was going to finish his days lonely, in a world he didn’t know anymore. She had only smiled at him, and he had fallen head over heel for her. In only a couple of years, she had brought him back to life. She made him: catch up on all the new music; watch all the episodes of that stupid medical TV show in which everybody ended up dying; discover all of the food possible - Sushi, Thai, Italian, Chinese, you name it; appreciate the Avenger’s gathering, their found family like she said. And she even made Tony’s horrible gala more bearable.

Yes, she had literally changed his life. Bucky was now realizing he had never really told her. How he owed her his life. And at this instant, while her breathing became even more difficult, he wanted to scream for someone - anyone - to help her. If only had he believed in God, he would have prayed for his mercy. He would even have given his life only for her to live.

“I love you,” she said, and Bucky had no time to answer her back.

She was dead.

Bucky sat up abruptly in his bed, eyes wet and hair stuck to his forehead by his sweat. It took him a minute to remember to breathe, but all he could do was gasp for air in between sobs. His chest was aching. Aching from the burn the lack of air did to his lungs. Aching from the heartbreak. Aching from the feeling of loss.

“Bucky?”

The mattress besides him shifted and one of the bedside lamps was switched on. Bucky’s eye fluttered open for a couple of seconds, trying to adjust to the sudden bright light. All his senses were in alert. He could hear the voice of the city in the background. He could feel the linen fabric against his skin. He could feel the warmth irradiating of him - it was much warmer than the outside of the warehouse, where he was only a couple of minutes ago. He could smell the magnolia fragrance Y/N always sprayed on their pillows before they went to bed.

It felt like home.

It was only then that he realized where he was. In the Avengers’ compound. In his room. In his bed.

“Oh, Bucky,” Y/N sighed.

Y/N, who was previously sleeping next to him, reached out, slowly, just like she had learned to do, as to not to startle him. By now, she had made acquaintance with his nightmares, though they came less and less as times had passed. Yet, the sight of him, tangled in the bed sheets, hair all other the place, crying, made her heart ache.

“I-” Bucky tried to explain, but words got stuck in his throat and another sob hit him abruptly. He knew that Y/N in front of him was very much alive, yet he also felt like a piece of her somewhere else wasn’t. And it broke his heart.

“Hey, hey,” she shushed him. “It’s okay.”

She took him in her arms, stroking his hair and rocking their bodies slowly in an attempt to calm him down. All while Bucky was holding on to her as if his life depending on it, crying on her shoulder, even wetting her pyjama top with his tears.

Although she had been woken up by way worse; like the nightmares where she had all the trouble in the world to bring him back to reality, or the ones she had to physically neutralize him to calm him down, she had to fight back her tears from seeing him in this state. Just like every other time, she would give everything she had just to be able to lighten his burden.

She held him until his breathing evened and even after, when he started slowly to fall asleep. She continued holding him even closer as she promised herself to continue to hold him until the end of times, if it means bringing him some well-deserved peace.

Months later, Bucky found himself with déjà-vu.

Walking first, closely followed by Y/N, he was escorting her to a warehouse in a port somewhere in eastern Europe. Natasha was a few feet behind, covering their backs. All until then had gone according to Steve’s plan. That, of course, was before a first bullet landed in the concrete wall behind him, only a few centimetres away from his face. Before he knew it, the three of them were under the fire of the militia guarding the warehouse.

Now, with a dozen of men in from of him and only his body to protect Y/N, Bucky realized why this situation felt so similar. It was exactly like one of his nightmares had started. The only one he had ever had about his girlfriend. The same one in which, in only a couple of seconds, a bullet would strike through her stomach, and he would watch her bleed to death. The same one that made him so afraid of falling asleep in fear of reliving it again that he went to Banner, so he could give him something - anything - to make him sleep and stop having nightmares.

There was irony in this, he thought; all those nightmares about his time in Hydra and he refused any medication, like he thought he had to endure all these memories. Yet, he dreamed of losing her one time, and he was begging to never live this again. He would never close his eyes again without taking his medications. And he promised himself he would do anything, everything, to protect her.

Guns were firing all around them and all they could do for now was lashing out their ammunition on them in return, praying that it would hit a few of them and leaving the three of them unarmed. Steve, waiting in the aircraft that had brought them here, was trying to get them air support all while telling them to try and find a way out in their earpieces. With the insurgents now on their tail and head, stuck in an alley between two warehouses, it was nearly an impossible mission. Oh, that he wished he had Sam’s wings now, or that his friend was here to grab her and get her the fuck out of here.

Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed his jacket to bring him backwards and Y/N’s arm appeared in front of his eyes to take down a man a couple of meters away that Bucky hadn’t seen before. She winked at him playfully as she turned from him to aim at another man on her left, totally unaware that she had just saved his life when he should have been the one saving her.

Only a minute later, he heard yet another bullet split through the air, the one that he knew was coming right in her direction. That time, he knew exactly how it would end. However, he had decided a long time ago that today was not the day his worst nightmare would come true.

Bucky did not hesitate a mere second. He moved to his left, purposely on the bullet’s path. The bullet struck him right in his gut and yet he didn’t feel a thing, only hearing the cry of horror that Y/N made when she saw his body take a few steps back under the impact.

A quick look behind him made his blood run cold. Y/N was standing there, eyes stuck on his belly, a look of pure shock on her face, a look that Bucky was mirroring at the perfection. He watched her weapon fall to the ground at the same time as both of her hands reached to catch him before he collapsed onto the floor.

One of his hands reached out to the new formed hole in his belly. He had no need to look at it; he knew the bullet had struck through a major artery and that probably more than two ounces of blood was leaving his body with every heartbeat. He would be dead in a matter of minutes.

His other hand grabbed her vest, holding on to it as if his life depended on it. Lashing the full ammunition of her gun on to the soldiers in front of them, Natasha wrapped her free arm around his waist, helping Y/N to support his weight. Steve was screaming in his earpiece, but Bucky couldn’t hear him over the sound of his own blood leaving his body. All he could do was stare at Y/N, trying to force into his memory this last sight of her as his breathing became unsteady.

“Stay with me,” Y/N commanded.

Bullets continued to be fired in their direction and Natasha was the only one with a gun now. Yet, they were able to retrace their steps and bring him to safety without being hurt by some kinds of miracle.

As soon as they sat Bucky against some wall, one of Y/N’s hands went on top of his, pressing hard on them. It made him winced, and it was the first time in the last couple of minutes that he felt any kind of pain. Her palm was quickly covered in his blood, yet she did not seem to react to it as her voice was still steady as she instructed him over and over again to “hold on”.

Bucky wanted to talk to her - tell her that she was going to be okay, she was the strongest person he knew after all - but her face was looking the other way. All he could see from his limited eyesight now was that the bag she was previously carrying was now at his feet and her other hand was deep in it, probably looking for the medical kit.

Feeling his last strength leaving him, Bucky focused to produce what he knew would be his last effort. He put one of his hands on top of the one Y/N was pressing against his belly and squeezed it ever so slightly. As he was fighting to keep his eyelids open, Y/N’s face finally turned to his. He saw her lips moving yet he didn’t understand what she was saying. He suddenly remembered her face, in his nightmare, as she was dying in front of him; he remembered the helplessness he had felt. He wished for Y/N not to feel the guilt, not to be angry at the world for taking him away from her – he had had a long life, a very happy one all the time he had been with her.

As his eyes started to close, Natasha quickly replaced Y/N’s hand with both of hers, trying to contain the bleeding for a little longer as Y/N was opening the med jacket she had finally found in the bag.

The last thing he heard was Y/N saying:

“Bucky, it’s going to hurt.”

His whole body felt like it was on fire, yet Bucky didn’t regret a thing. Sure, now that he was thinking of it from his hospital bed, it seemed like he could have only pushed Y/N out of the way, sparing them both the struggle of this situation. He hadn’t fully realized until after the bullet was deeply lodged inside of him, that the serum running through his veins wouldn’t prevent him from bleeding to death.

Steve, who had been there when Bucky woke up from the anaesthesia, had told him that Y/N hadn’t left his side one minute during the Aircraft ride, the surgery he had underwent to get the bullet out and stitch him up (of course, she wasn’t in the surgery room, but waited just outside) and waited in his hospital room for him to wake up.

With her arms wrapped around her legs so she was in some sort of foetal position, Y/N had finally felt asleep, exhausted. The small frown on her face and the shudder of her figure from time to time indicated that she wasn’t having the best sleep of her life, probably dreaming about the events of those last thirty-two hours.

From the dark circles under her eyes and the lack of colour on her cheeks, he could only imagine the fear he had inflicted on Y/N. Though his intent was to protect her in the first place, he had only caused her more ache.

For this, he would never forgive himself.

“Bucky?”

Softly, he smiled at Y/N’s sleepy eyes, trying to reassure her silently. From the way the corner of her mouth twitched as she stood up and the clouds he could see in her eyes, he understood that he did not look better than she did. After all, he had loose a significant amount of blood and his whole torso was wrapped tightly in a bandage against the hot skin of his wound. If he looked as bad as it hurt, he could only comprehend her reaction.

“I thought I had lost you,” she murmured as she had made it to his bed.

Standing next to the bed, Y/N had never looked so small and fragile to him. While he could still see her determined face while she was attending his wound before losing consciousness, her mask was now falling apart. Slowly, he grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles.

“I thought I would lose you,” Bucky explained as if it was a reason enough to have let himself get shot instead of her.

Y/N shook her head in response, tears falling down her cheeks. She leaned on to his side to hug him gently, trying the best she could not to touch his stomach and cause him pain. Bucky held her as if his life depended on it; all while she cried in silence, her face hidden in the crook of his neck.

In all those years together, it had always been the other way around: Y/N comforting Bucky after his nightmares; Y/N dealing with Bucky single-handedly when he didn't feel worthy of love and happiness after all the pain he had caused as a Super Solider. She had been so strong for the both of them and now, she was letting it all go.

How was he wrong to assume she could put up with all his pain and sorrow. He knew now more than ever what a wonderful woman she was, and he would make a point to reminder her every day for the rest of their life.

“Don’t you dare pulling anything like this on me ever again,” she sniffled against his neck.

Bucky kissed her temple in response, never quite telling her that he would still take a bullet for her any time.

#jbb #lea's writing #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #bucky barnes one shot #marvel one shot #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu oneshot

[marie-swriting]

I Cannot Afford To Lose You - Bucky Barnes

Marvel Masterlist

Summary : You get shot on a mission, resulting in you almost dying in Bucky's arms.

Warnings : gunshot, gunshot wound, reader almost dies, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, John Walker, Bucky being protective, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3k

French version

A/N : this one shot was based on this request made by @tieddown-withbattleshipchains hope you'll like it ! Personally, I enjoyed writing it, your idea was really inspirational :)

You enter a dark room, your senses on alert, lying in wait for a potential threat with your batons in hands. You look at every side of the place when you see a shadow coming towards you. Just in time, you block the punch of the Flag Smasher with your weapon. Then, follow a fight between you and the masked woman. Despite the Supersoldier serum running in her veins, you can get through it pretty easily. Thanks to your training with Bucky, you can easily adapt to a fight with someone who has super strength. You succeed to hit her but not enough to knock her out. Your hits only made her lose her mask, allowing you to see she’s a woman in her early twenties. You keep fighting when a gunshot can be heard. Lowering your gaze on your stomach, you see blood. The Flag Smasher pushes you before running away while you fall on the ground. You bring your hand to your wound and try to put pressure on it, despite the pain.

“Y/N ? What was that ? You’re okay ?” Bucky’s worried voice asks in your earpiece. “Y/N !” he screams as he doesn’t hear an answer from you.

“I lost the target.” you articulate after a few seconds.

“I’ll handle it.” Sam informs, “Everything is good for you ?”

You don’t have the strength to answer him, too focused to not bleed out. You sweep the area with your eyes, hoping to find the shooter yet you see no one. You keep looking around, searching for something to help you, in vain. Your breath quickens when Buckys appears. A worried expression takes its place on his face when he runs to you. Before reaching you, you can hear him ordering Sam to call paramedics. Bucky kneels next to you, takes your hands away and puts pressure on your wound. Gradually, your eyelids are getting heavier so Bucky shakes you with one hand to keep you awake.

“I forbid you to fall sleep, you hear me ? Stay focused, Sam called for help, they’ll get there soon.”

“I’m tired.” you stutter, looking at him with difficulty.

“I know but you can’t close your eyes, okay ? You’re gonna make it out alive so stay awake.”

“Bucky, I-” you start putting your hand on his.

“No, shh,” he cuts you off softly, “focus on not closing your eyes. You’ll tell me what you want to say later. Hold on, Y/N, you’re gonna make it out alive.” he repeats whilst his hands are getting dirty with your blood.

You try to listen to Buky and do everything to not fall asleep however the more the time passes, the harder it gets. You slowly start to give up when the paramedics come to you. Distantly, you can hear Bucky screaming your name while you sink into darkness.

When you open your eyes, you feel attacked by the lightness of the place. You close them for a second before opening them again slowlier. When you’re finally used to the brightness, you analyse your environment and realise you’re in a hospital room. Your eyes fall on Bucky who is sitting next to you, his hands holding your right one and he’s lost in his thoughts. You lightly move your fingers to catch his attention. Feeling you moving, Bucky’s head instantly turns on his left. When he sees you awake, he sighs in relief before getting closer to you. With his left hand, he strokes your cheeks. 

“Hey, how are you feeling ?” he whispers.

“Like I got shot.” you say, trying to smile.

“At least, we know for sure we haven’t lost her.” Sam intervenes, making Bucky roll his eyes.

“Are you hurting somewhere ? Do you want me to call a nurse ? I should call a nurse to let her know you’re awake.”

“No need. The IV is still working.”

“It’d be safer and maybe they need to check something as you’re awake now.” your boyfriend insists while pressing the button to call the nurse.

“Worse than a mother hen.”

“Shut up, Sam.”

“Don’t make me laugh.” you order as you feel a pain in your belly even though you only laugh a little at their bickering.

“Sorry.” Sam apologises.

Bucky keeps looking at you as if he was afraid that if he looks away you’ll disappear. You look at him lovingly, hoping it’ll reassure him, confirming to him he hasn’t lost you. Meanwhile, Sam feels a little bit left out yet he can’t help but look at the scene tenderly, knowing very well what you mean to Bucky. 

Indeed, since you met the former Winter Soldier, you’ve always made sure he never misses anything. You helped, and still help him sometimes, to get used to the modern world and you’re one of the few shoulders he can cry on without feeling ashamed. Your feelings for each other got stronger gently and your relationship evolved at the same pace. Your bond is strong and indescribable. All that you both know is you can’t live without the other. Bucky in particular cannot lose you, not only because he loves you but also because you’re one of the rare constants in his life since he got his memory back. 

Someone knocks on your door, breaking your bubble by doing so. You get ready to greet a nurse when you find John Walker in his Captain America outfit and his helmet in hands. You frown, not expecting to see him here.

“John, what a pleasure !” Bucky starts, sarcastically, “Are you here to give the Shield back ?”

“Buck !” you reprimand him and he fakes an innocent expression.

“I just wanted to know how you were feeling.” John asks you, avoiding your gaze for a second.

“I’ll get by, considering I almost died.”

“About that, I wanted to apologise.”

“What are you talking about ?” you question, frowning. 

Although if you didn’t see who shot you, you guessed it was a Flag Smasher as your wound allowed your enemy to escape, until Sam caught her, so you don’t understand John's apology.

“I… I was targeting the Flag Smasher,” explain John, playing with his helmet, “but while you were fighting, you moved and I shot you by accident.”

Upon hearing the end of John’s sentence, Bucky sees red and lets go of your hand before trying to get to John. Sam barely holds him, preventing Bucky from breaking his therapist’s rule number two. John moves back to the door in case Sam wouldn’t be able to hold Bucky back anymore. Your boyfriend forces himself to not use all of his strength against Sam, he knows he’d be able to get away from his grip if he really wants to but he also knows it’s not the thing to do. Bucky finally got his pardon, he can’t ruin everything now. However, it doesn’t mean John didn’t almost ruin the most precious relationship to his eyes. As if it’s enough that Bucky can’t for the life of him like the new Captain America, now he has only one urge : hurt him real bad or go back in time and force Sam to keep this damn Shield like this, you wouldn’t be in this hospital bed.

“It was an accident, I promise.” John states, “I really am sorry.”

“They don’t teach you how to shoot in the army anymore or what ?” Bucky spits as Sam tightens his grip on him. “Come on, if you don’t have a clear view, you don’t shoot, that’s common sense ! Because of you, Y/N almost fucking lost her life and we almost didn’t catch the Flag Smasher. You can’t be that stupid !”

“Bucky, he didn’t do it on purpose.” you intervene, hoping it’ll ease the tension.

Even if you hate John as much as Bucky does, you can’t have your boyfriend rearranging his face. You can’t have Bucky being the US government’s number one enemy again.

“I don’t care about that,” Bucky retorts to you, “You almost died in my arms because of his incompetence.” he keeps saying as he points at John with his chin, “What a good Captain America ! Just for that reason alone, you should give the Shield back.”

“It was a mistake. Besides, I just got promoted as Captain America, I still have a lot to learn.” John tries to defend himself, irritating Bucky a bit more.

“Shooting innocents shouldn’t be a part of it ! You’re supposed to have learned this at the beginning of your training in the army. It was more than a mistake. You better leave now before I make you a permanent resident in this hospital.”

“You should go, John.” you confirm, knowing well Bucky’s anger won’t cool off now, “Thanks for telling me the truth.”

“It was the least I could do. Again, sorry, Y/N.”

When John finally leaves the room, Sam slowly lets Bucky go, though he stays at the ready to hold Bucky back just in case. Your boyfriend takes a deep breath before setting his attention on you. He might seem calmer, you can see in his eyes his anger is still there. He sits back down whilst Sam gets settled at the end of your bed.

“All of this could have been avoided if you hadn’t given up the Shield.” Bucky exclaims, making both yours and Sam’s eyes roll. 

“Still with that.”

“How can you not be mad at him when he almost killed you ?” he questions, confused.

“Look, you know my opinion on him as Captain America and today proves us a bit more, it shouldn’t be him, but the fact is, he didn’t hurt me intentionally.”

“Intentionally or not, I could have lost you.”

“And it’s not the case. I’m still here.” you assure him, stroking his cheek.

Bucky is about to add something when the nurse he called earlier enters your accommodation. She checks your vital signs, asks you some questions and informs you your doctor will come check on you later before letting you rest. Thanks to her appearance, Bucky finally gives up the ‘John’ subject, however he’s still fulminating. To lighten up the mood, Sam changes the subject by talking about his house in Louisiana. He speaks about the weather, his family boat and the several activities his hometown has to offer until your doctor cuts him off. She explains to you they saved you just in time and you’ll have a scar on your belly. Finally, she informs you you’ll have to spare yourself for a while, strictly forbidding you to get back on the field until further notice. You can’t help but let go of a frustrated sigh at her last information. The last thing you needed was to be confined in your bed when you’re someone who is active. When she leaves, Bucky tries to make you see the bright side as he knows you’re annoyed by your current situation. However, no matter what he says, it doesn’t seem to make your pout go away. Sam finally proposes to do your recovery at his house in Louisiana, away from the city. You weigh the pros and cons before accepting, not without making Bucky roll his eyes. 

When you’re finally cleared to leave the hospital, you discover the State where Sam lives. The latter gave you and Bucky the guest room. You thanked him countless times for his kindness whilst Bucky only gave him a small smile to show his gratitude.

During your recovery, the two men pamper you. Sam makes you taste the traditional dish from Louisiana as well as his family recipes. You have to admit Sam is a good cook, something you wouldn’t have thought at first. Sam also brought you several things to keep you busy from your bed like board games or some manual activities. You now consider yourself a pro in the making of bracelets with plastic pearls. You’ve made some for Sam, his sister Sarah and her sons AJ and Cass but also for Bucky. AJ and Cass aside, Bucky is the one who has most of them, with cute or ridiculous names going from ‘my lover’ to ‘grumpy’. Some of your bracelets are in perfect contrast with his Vibranium arm.

As for Bucky, he’s always by your side and worries even when you assure him you’re not in pain. He helps you clean your wound, change your bandage and always makes sure you’re in a good sleeping position. Finally, during the night, when you’re asleep, Bucky is glued to you - while being careful about your wound - and delicately rests his head on your chest to hear your regular heartbeats. By hearing them, Bucky can breathe and sleep peacefully whilst saying to himself again and again you’re still alive, you’re still by his side, he hasn’t lost you.

After several weeks laying down, you can walk a longer distance than the one from your room to your bathroom. Sitting on your bed, you’re putting your shoes on when Bucky with his eyes wide open comes to you.

“What do you think you’re doing ? You need to rest.” he reminds you, stopping you from tying completely your left shoelace.

“The doctor told me I needed to walk to help with the healing.” you explain playing with the pearls of his bracelet making the word ‘oldman’.

“What kind of stupid advice is that ? You need to stay in bed.”

“Bucky, if I stay one more second on that damn bed, I’m gonna burn it down.” you inform with a serious face. “Besides, I’m not gonna run a marathon, I’m just gonna walk very slowly around the house. Come with me if it can make you feel any better.”

“What if you hurt yourself while walking ?” he inquires and you stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

“Then, thank God my amazing and strong boyfriend will be next to me to help me. Bucky, I’m fine.” you comfort him, looking in his eyes. “I’m not in pain and I need to move. I can’t stand there and look good anymore in this house. I know every corner of this bedroom, I need to go out.”

Bucky seems to consider it for a second, mentally weighing his options before sighing and nodding.

“OK, but if you feel even the slightest pain, you better tell me and we go home.” he orders, untying your left shoelace to redo it, “and we’re not walking more than five minutes.” he adds.

“Fifteen.” you negotiate. 

“Ten.”

“Deal.” you accept with a childish look.

Bucky finishes tying your right shoelace before giving you his hand to help you get up from the bed and examine your face for any sign of hurt. To prove him you’re fine, you smile at him before pecking his lips. He takes your right arm and locks it with his to support you while you start leaving your temporary quarter. Upon - finally - leaving the house, you take your time to enjoy the sun’s heat on your face. You walk, sharing with Bucky all of your observations on the landscape in front of you. Since you arrived, you didn’t get the time to admire the outside beauty of Sam’s house so you look at every tree, flower and wave, enjoying the nature Brooklyn doesn’t have.

After a few minutes of walking, you ask Bucky to stop. Immediately, he questions you, worried you might pass out at any given time.

“I’m fine.” you reassure him though his worried expression doesn’t leave his face.

“Sorry I’m always on your back but I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I know.”

“Do you think I’m too much ?” he questions while touching the bracelet with the word ‘sweetheart’.

“No, I think it’s cute the way you’re always worried.” you say, lifting his head with your hand. “You’re a real mother hen but I like it.” you add, making him chuckle a little. 

“Can you hold it against me ? I really thought I’d lost you.” he says, reminiscing the moment where he got to you as you were bleeding out. “When you started closing your eyes, I was sure it was the end. And I cannot lose you.” Bucky affirms with a shaking voice, “I know I don’t tell you often but my therapist says I need to learn to communicate what I’m feeling so here I am saying it : you matter to me and I need you in order to keep moving on. I know it might sound selfish but I cannot afford to lose you and if it were ever to happen… i don't know what I’d become.” he keeps saying with teary eyes, “I need you close to me. I love you so much.”

As you see a tear rolling down his cheeks, you take him in your arms and stroke his back. He hides his face in the crook of your neck and breathes in your smell. A part of Bucky feels bad for being the one getting comforted when you’re the one who got wounded notwithstanding he needs it. Losing you is his worst fear and since John shot you, he became aware his fear could become real in a second. You keep hugging him, proving to him it doesn't bother you to comfort him because you understand him.

“I love you too, Bucky,” you murmur in his ear, “so much.”

You stay in each other’s arms for a few minutes until your anxiety vanishes away. When you break the embrace, one of your hands finds its way to Bucky’s cheek and the second one strokes the bracelet with the pearls ‘forever’ before taking his left hand.

“I can’t promise you I’ll always be safe considering what we do for a living but I can promise you one thing : I will always do in my power everything to stay by your side and I want you to promise me the same because I need you as much as you need me.”

“I promise.”

Like to seal your promise, you delicately kiss each other with the Sun as a witness. Bucky doesn’t put his hand on your waist, worried he’ll hurt you involuntarily, so his hands find their way to your cheeks while yours get lost in his hair.

Marvel Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

#marie swriting in english #marie srequest #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #mcu #mcu oneshot #mcu marvel avengers #mcu fandom #mcu fic #mcu x reader #marvel one shot #marvel #avengers #marvel mcu #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #white wolf

[puffein]

i'll be with you, someday

pairings: wanda maximoff x reader summary: even though you and wanda are continually entangled by fate while being in two distinct worlds, life and the challenges of dating a superhero outweighed fate's favors. warnings: fluff, angst word count: 3722 a/n: kaowjwekakak i am so nervous posting this. help, but i hope u enjoy reading this!! my first ficcc post :D

general masterlist

The first time you had met Wanda Maximoff was in the harsh breezy air of Europe, particularly a country located in the central-southeast. A small eastern country called Sokovia, tucked between Slovakia and Czech Republic, despite the country being small, the remnants of the bombings that happened years ago, were big enough to make the country gain attention from different countries especially their loud voices and public outcry in the streets of the country's capital city Novi Grad. 

The country was small but it gained the attention of every news network, particularly, yours. As a news reporter, life is not all about being shoved in a studio, making up a firm smile, and reading fast blurry lines on a small monitor. No, it's much more than that, it also means to get yourself shoved in dangerous matters. 

You wouldn't call the protests dangerous but as time passed by the cries were getting heated, louder, and the smoke was getting thick.

However, you cannot be phased by this. Not when a camera is steadily situated right in front of your face. 

"... organized protests on the streets of Novi Grad, the capital city of the country, Sokovia has been—" 

A fast whirring object flies past your shoulders as you flinch hard enough to toss yourself to the side. The object steadily launches itself on the big camera, glasses flying everywhere. Biting your lip to cut off whatever scream is bubbling in your chest, a gasp makes out of your trembling lips as a hand clasp tightly on your wrist. 

A girl–no, definitely a woman. The woman walks fast and hurriedly, she shoves you into an alleyway so far away from the crowd, the loud bearing of your chest was indescribable and suffocating.

"Why are Westerners so idiotic." her accented voice made your form straightened. 

Your brows furrowed rightfully at hers, "I am not—"

She puts up a hand, her brown hair tightly secured and gathered away from the curves of her face, you can see the sharp arches of her features, the prominent cheekbones sitting right on her cheeks going downwards. She glowers at you, "Get you and your camera away from here. If you want news, do it from a distance." 

You didn't know the woman you had met in Sokovia would stick up on your being for so long, but she did save you even after her blatant insults of you being careless and idiotic, which by the way is true. 

You didn't know that woman would shake the world with a much bigger coverage. 

Years later, you found yourself again in the country of Sokovia. A tip was passed by at your news network that something big will happen in the country and as the ever-loving favorite of your boss. He tossed you again in Europe, not caring if this tip was something like throwing you as a snack in a cage full of hungry wolves or in a simpler thought if it was even real.

But oh boy, you were wrong.

The tip was real. 

You would rather have yourself as a snack in a cage full of wolves than see yourself meters away from the ground. 

The capital city of Sokovia lifted itself off from the ground, screaming citizens blur the panic settling in your loud beating chest and the microphone you held against your chest trembles as it falls below you. A mistake was made when you looked down, the remaining parts of the city were no longer visible as clouds cleared off any vision of the city from below, the slight shaking of the ground pushed your weakened knees, shoving you face-front in the blue sky. 

Your voice reverberates loudly throughout the flying city, before you could fully fall and meet the end of your life, a wisping red smoke wraps itself on your hips pulling you far away from the edge of the city. 

The woman huffs out a breath, "You again?" 

"I don't —" 

And off she goes, running towards the panicking crowds, leaving your heaving chest and the shaking bones of your being in an alleyway. 

You thought that was the end of it all. 

It was the second time you have met her, and it was the second time you have come to learn her name. The name Wanda Maximoff.

The major event in Sokovia prompted you to shove a resignation letter to your fuming boss. Just a year after the traumatic event you had endured and the abuse you had experienced in your workplace, you are now a diligent owner of a small coffee shop.

Tucked between the nicely scented flower shop and an old apartment, your coffee shop was the only source of income you have. After resigning and possibly giving up the dream of becoming a news anchor, you had hoped this coffee shop would be enough to feed the starving energy of your impossible dream. 

"Hello, what can I do—"

Green eyes stared right at your soul, her eyes darted away to read the menu placed at the top of your head, a tinge of red blossoms at her cheeks, "What can you recommend?"

Clearing your throat, you shoved down the squeal bubbling in the depth of your chest, "Our cinnamon coffee has well-received feedbacks."

It's been a year since she saved you for the second time, you badly want to say your gratitude to her. To form coherent thoughts with words full of appreciation for her works and her bravery.

She nods, the dark green cap she's wearing hides half of her face but you see the slight twitch of the corners of her mouth. Her hand full of rings taps lightly on her thighs as she awaits for the coffee to go. 

When her coffee arrived, your breathing quickens at the brisk touch of her thumbs over the side of your fingers. She mutters a small thank you and you are faced with the fleeing form of a woman called Wanda Maximoff.

That should be the end, right? Meeting a superhero so frequently as you had met her is not normal. 

Not when she frequently buys coffee in your coffee shop, the same order she had brought when she very first set foot on your small premises. 

The frequent visit she had made you confused about the blossoming crush you are having with the Sokovian. Your interactions with her are no longer than 30 seconds, it consisted of asking what she wants, you would ask her how she was and she would curtly reply with a one-liner and it made you awkward. You are just doing your job. Why are you being awkward when it comes to her?

When she would come on her fifth visit, you promised yourself to take the courage to finally talk to her for longer than 30 seconds. So, when she comes in the early mornings of New York, wearing a cap over her head, and a coat that works wonders on her overall appearance, your courage wavers slightly. 

And it wavers greatly when a redhead trails behind the brown-haired woman.

The black widow flickers her eyes on your gaping form, a slight twitch of a grin plasters on her face as she walks beside Wanda towards you, carrying an aura no one could top off. 

"Hello," you cursed yourself for making your voice shake in a very obvious manner. "What can I get for you today?"

The redhead glances at the younger woman beside her, and a smirk beams out of the sharp edges of her face, "Oh, we are not here to order." the widow casually says. 

Bumping the back of her hand to the sides of a silent woman beside her, the widow only gives you a smile as she shoves Wanda painfully close to the counter. 

Wanda curses, "How are you?" she winces at the word.

You look between the grinning redhead and the woman who has a red face, you give out a confused smile, "I am good, Wanda. How are you?"

"Jesus." the widow curses under her breath, gliding her feet towards Wanda's as she kicks it in passion. 

Knees wavering from the sudden kick, Wanda exclaims the words, "Fuc— Can I take you out on a date?" 

And that's how you got yourself a superhero girlfriend. 

It's been months since Wanda started dating you, you were everything she could have asked for, you bring out the radiant glow of the sun, your love is like a breeze tinged with the smell of the sea, and the touches you had made with her are anchors of her shaking boats. You calm the crashing waves of her life.

She knew what she was bringing to you after she had asked you out on a date. But she wants to have something, she wants to be selfish just this once. 

"What are you cooking?" your voice made its way into her ears, a big grin plaster automatically on her face.

Wanda turns her head over her shoulders, lowering herself slightly to catch the height of your lips. She hears the humming of your voice as her tongue darts leisurely on your bottom lip.

You grin, pulling away to wrap your hands around her middle section, "Smells good by the way." you mutter, kissing her shoulder. 

Wanda laughs, "I am only heating the food Nat brought last night, is that okay?" 

She feels the nod of your head against her shoulder, your cheeks pressed up tightly against it as she sighs at the comforts of your warm body. 

"How was the interview?" she finally asks.

You were silent for the first few seconds, "It was fine, I think."

Wanda can hear the doubt in your voice and the loud ringing of your thoughts, she fully turns herself to look at you. Her hands placed tenderly on your cheeks, "I just knew you rocked that interview."

After months of pondering if you should continue the dream you had thrown for the safety of your being, you had concluded that one bad news network is not equal to all of them. So, you prompted yourself in an interview to get the dreams you had let go.

"Rocked.." you ponder on the word, Wanda rolls her eyes with fondness pooling deep in her chest. "Definitely."

"But seriously, you will get this job. I just knew it. You are passionate and hardworking. Any news network would be lucky to have you, baby, you should know that." you beamed at her words, tiptoeing to kiss her properly.

"What would I do without you?" you quietly said between the kisses.

"Probably alone and starving, detka." she grins, biting playfully on your lip as you groan at the stinging pain. 

Relationship with Wanda was beautiful, like the scenery out of a postcard. But not everything is beautiful, every relationship passes by a rocky road that will either tumble the couple down or help them grow. 

So, when the absence of her presence in your life became more prominent as days passed by into months, you knew something was wrong. 

You are clearly informed of her work, of how everything was confidential but that did not stop the constricting pain your heart felt when she would go like a ghost and would come back like nothing had happened. Like she didn't just leave you all alone with no words.

You do not know where you and Wanda are placed. 

Are you two being tumbled down? or is this another thing that would help build the bonded relationship you two have?

When you woke up in the middle of the night only to have your eyes focused on a slumped form in the middle of the kitchen, the words came blaring down like an ambulance. 

"Jesus, are you okay?" kneeling in front of her, you tuck your hands in her arms to pull her up. 

Your hands go limp as she pushes you away, "Hurts, let me be here. It'll pass." she croaks out, eyes closed tightly. 

Your eyes scan the heavy movement of her chest, the stained shirt she wore does not make your chest calm. You lean in again, your hands hovering over the blood pooling at the side of her body, she grabs your wrist tightly, "I told you, it will pass."

When she opened her eyes to see the glistening eyes of yours, filled with unshed tears, her heart broke. She forces herself to sit up, biting her tongue hard to keep the scream of pain for herself. "Detka, I promise. I will be fine. I had it checked before coming here, just forgot to change, okay?" 

You nod at her words, blinking a few times to calm the beating of your heart.

"But you have to rest on the bed, not here." 

"I know, baby. Just give me a few minutes, hm? And I'll be there beside you, go." 

When you didn't move after her words, Wanda smiled at you, "I'll be with you, I promise. Please." 

And you left her alone with her pain, just like every other night.

Wanda would rather suffer in silence than make you see the pain scattering all over her body. She does not want your eyes to scan her battered body, it will break her to see you sob just because she has been careless on a mission. 

It was not worth it.

Her actions shouldn't weigh down on your stability and as every mission piles one after another, it becomes more dangerous, more eye-opening. 

She didn't want to admit it but what she has been asking from you was unfair. Asking you to leave her alone after making you see the bruises on her face or the remnants of the mission was unfair to you. She cannot just let you see she's suffering and pushes you away. 

But that was the only thing she could do. She would rather be choosing that option over and over again than choosing the choice of completely leaving you. No more sights of bruises, no more her and you.

Wanda lets herself be selfish once more.

When the light rays of the sun push itselves through the windows of your small apartment, you wake up with the soft lips of your significant other. 

Peppering your face with soft kisses, Wanda kneels at the side of your bed, leaning down once more to kiss your forehead, "Wake up, detka. I made breakfast." 

You stirred in your sleep, hands reaching out to touch the cheeks of Wanda but hovered on top of it, halting your movements.

Wanda frowns. 

You opened your eyes, "Is it gonna hurt if I touch it?" you point out a bruise on her cheekbones, Wanda stills at your question. Her heart plummeted at your fragile quiet voice. 

She nods slowly, "You can touch anywhere, sweetheart. I am fine now, I visited the med bay while you slept, everything is fine." 

You sit up on your bed, shaking off the sleep in your eyes, you stare at her. "Can I kiss you?"

Wanda smiles, leaning in, "You don't have to ask." 

Meeting your lips halfway with the warm feeling of the cascading sunlight on her back was something Wanda wants to have for the rest of her life. The soft feeling of your lips against her, the smell of coffee, you. Everything is perfect for her.

And she knows a perfect person like you wouldn't last with a person so imperfect like her.

The bruises on Wanda's face were not halfway cured when she was asked again to go on a mission. It was still purple and swollen when she heard the call from Steve. A mission to infiltrate a newly discovered base of Hydra. It was located somewhere in Europe, it was miles away from New York, miles away from you.

It was just another day of you and Wanda lounging in the walls of your apartment, the chilling icy-cold air of the night felt sharp on your skin, her face was still healing from her past mission when she suddenly excuses herself to answer the taunting ringing of her phone. 

She had kissed your forehead before walking away to give herself privacy and the kiss that felt comforting before weighs down indescribably in the depths of your chest.

You watch the frowning of her brows, how she nibbles her bottom lip to how the muscle in her jaw twitches as her head bobs in something that was being discussed on her phone.

You look away, eyeing the show you two have been watching, the voices on it fading out. You knew what was coming and you should be accustomed to it by how frequently she leaves for her job but it did not make it easier for you, it just became harder. 

Her presence came like a tidal wave, scooting herself closer to your form as her hand snaked around your waist pulling you flushed on her. She kisses the side of your head slowly, her lips lingering on your warm skin.

You sigh, leaden feelings set heavily on your chest, "You're leaving, again?"

Wanda gulps the remaining bitter taste in her mouth, nudging your cheeks with her nose, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." you snap. You didn't mean to make your voice let out the feelings you have thrust down on your chest. But it did and it's like the small crack of an incoming big wave from a dam that's been left too full.

Wanda grips your waist, resting her forehead on your shoulders, she breathes in the scent you had emitted, "I'll be back before you'll know it, baby."

"You always say that and yet, you always come home months after." you ground your jaw hard and painful as Wanda snapped her mouth shut. 

She lets you hear the silence of her essence, the slow breathing from her lungs, the flowery scent she has. She lets you have it, for she knows the truth of your words. 

"I'm sorry," she starts, smoothing the skin on your waist. "I'll be back." 

"How long do I have to believe that?" your voice wavered, any control you have left for clutching your feelings in your grasp is now gone. The feelings you had been feeling ran out of your mouth fast and heavy. 

"I'll always be back, when did I lie, Y/N?" Wanda replies.

"How long till you just finally don't? I have seen you hurt so many times, Wanda. I don't want to see your dead body or– or do I even have the right to see it if it happens or will it be confidential?" you moved away from her, hugging yourself as you felt the heavy material of her sweater, making you feel more miserable.

"Don't think that." Wanda's voice was firm and hardened. 

"I always think that! What do you think my thoughts will be after you have walked away to offer yourself in such dangerous missions." your throat closes up instantly, a sob breaking out of your mouth, 

"You– you, you can read minds, how come you have never known I was hurting?" 

Wanda's green eyes gleamed with sadness at your outburst. Do you have to ask such an obvious question?

Of course, she had known. She had always known how much she was weighing you down, how these frequent absences of hers are taking a toll on you mentally and emotionally. She does not want to acknowledge how she's taking the life out of you, how day by day your eyes have lost their light, just because of her. 

She turns a blind eye to all of that. She always did.

She deserves to be a little more selfish, right?

So, she cradles your cheeks tenderly, your eyes burning with grief at a loss that you know will happen.

"It's gonna be fine, I will be back, I promise. Please, stop crying." she wipes your tears gently, the padding of her thumbs gliding smoothly below your eyes. She leans in to kiss it, shuddering at the wetness she felt on her lips.

"I'll be with you, baby. Please, stop. I'll be—" Wanda's lips instantly pressed together as you yank your figure away from her tight grasp. 

Pacing away from her, your brows creased in apprehension, "It's either be with me or le— work." the timbres of your voice falters.

"I can't be here, with you. You had lost everything, Wanda. Why do you want to lose yourself? You have saved many, it's okay to stop." your voice pleaded.

Wanda's eyes swam with tears as she finally felt the cracking of the ground, the awareness of the reality that was unfolding before her eyes didn't feel real. 

She didn't want it to feel real yet as her eyes settled on your dishevelled state everything came crashing down on her hard and excruciatingly painful.

She took a step forward, and with her shaky hands, she took your cold ones and brought it to her trembling lips. "Everything will be fine, please don't do this," she begged.

"I am so tired of crying myself to sleep. I have forgotten what it's like to have a mind so peaceful, Wanda. But my mind is far from peace if you are away from me," the vision you had before is long gone, replaced by a blurry sight of tears and heartbreak. "I am just asking you to stay. To choose yourself, to choose us and stay." 

"Please, don't make me choose."

"Then, leave." 

The hands grasped tightly on yours stilled. Wanda froze in front of you, her wide eyes staring directly at yours, she looks for a sign that you're gonna take back the words you have sputtered, that everything is just a mistake on your part but when you remained grounded, and when you let her hear the loudness of your silence, her face contorted in pain at your words. 

She felt the walls closing in on her.

"Baby, detka, I have no—"

"You have asked me to not let you choose. That is an answer, Wanda." your voice quivered, and you whisk your hands away from her hold.

"Leave, I'm sure Steve will appreciate your early arrival." you turned your back to the woman you will be mourning, chest leaden with grief-stricken feelings as you grieve for the loss of your love.

And you left her alone with her pain, just like every other night.

general masterlist

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff oneshot #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel fanfiction #mcu oneshot #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you

[punishereditz]

Black Blue And Bloodily

Gif by me

Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Nurse!reader

Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Smut. A little bit of blood. Mentions of violence. Praise kink. Praise kink. Strong praise kink. Edging. Overstimulation. Fingering. Breeding kink. Frank being needy. Dirty talk.

AN: This is so much longer than I planned. I promise it gets better. This took me two days to write but it was so worth it.

Summary: Your use to hearing 'Pete' stumbling around next door, but today is different. Today you find him almost dead at your doorstep. Right when you think things couldn't get any more interesting, it does...

~

You huff frustratedly as your keys drop to the floor from trying to get your door open. Your hands full with grocery bags. You look across the hall to see that Pete's door is open. You don't think much of it, shrugging it off. You finally get your door open. Going straight to your kitchen to sit the bags down on the counter. Starting to put everything away.

Once that is all done. You flop down face first on the couch. Sighing in relief of being off of your feet after standing on them for over 12 hours straight with no break.

Your eyes get heavy as the sleepiness starts to wash over you. Somethings off. Your eyes open at the sound of silence. This is weird. Normally when you get off of your night shift, you always hear some type of commotion coming from across the hall. But your greeted with dead silence. It's so quiet that you could hear a fly in the room. You never know what the man is doing. Rather it's long hours and he gets in at the same time as you, or he is bringing woman home. There is always some type of noise. Now there is nothing. You remember that his door was open when you got home. You can't help but start to worry.

You try to brush it off. It's none of your business. You try to go to sleep. Not even worrying about changing or walking down to your room. But the worry keeps you from drifting into sleep you want oh so badly. There's this feeling building in your gut that something is wrong. It's your 'nurse' instinct. Like a power that comes with your job to know when something is even the slightest bit off.

You stand from the couch. Rubbing your eyes. You hear a bang at your door. Your instantly on high alert. Running to your door. When you open the door and look down at your feet. You're greeted with the sight of Pete passed out, covered head to toe in blood. You drop to your knees. Placing his head in your lap. You place your fingers over his pulse. Luckily his heart is beating, but it's not beating fast.

You stand. Grabbing the under of his arms and dragging him into your apartment. You struggle. Swearing the man is made of stone. You somehow get him on your couch.

"Shit," You mumble under your breath to yourself. You quickly start searching his body. Cutting his clothes off. Looking at what injures he has. You try to stop the questions from running through your mind. You have never seen the man without bruises, now he is barely holding onto life on your couch. It makes you wonder what else there is to him.

~

You somehow manage to sort everything out with work. Making sure to stay home in case he wakes up.

You sit at your table looking over some documents. Doing what work you can at home. You notice Frank moving around. Seeing his eyes start to flicker open and his face growing confused with the different surroundings. You quickly move over to him. Putting on a pair of gloves. His eyes meet yours. Looking at you perplexed.

He tries to raise up, but you put a hand to his chest pushing him back down. "Slow your role. You need to rest. No moving around, okay?" His face softens hearing your nurturing voice and he rests his head against his shoulder. He has no idea what happened. He's not sure if he is even alive right now, he swears he has been met with an angel.

"What happened?" He mumbles.

"You were passed out at my door." You explain. Not looking at his eyes that are glued on you. You stay focused on what you're doing of taking care of him.

You finish. Silence growing in between the two of you as you lean back. Sitting at the edge of the coffee table in front of him.

"Why did you help me?" His voice is groggy and low. His eyes have been searching yours since he woke. Like he is compelled by you. In a trance. All his attention on you.

"Why would you say that? I wasn't going to leave you for dead. It's my nature to help." He smally smiles up at you. His hand dangling from the couch. Coming up to rest on your knee.

"You a doctor?"

"ER Nurse." You correct him.

"Do you mind explaining to me why every time I see you, you are black blue and bloodily?" Your curiosity gets the best of you, and you ask the question you're dying to have an answer to.

He hesitates, but he tells you everything. Explaining that his name isn't Pete, but his name is Frank Castle. That he is the punisher, and that he pissed off the wrong people and got out number by about 50 men. He explained a little bit of his past as to how he got here. Only telling what you need to know. Not getting into detail, and you respect that.

Throughout the day, you go about your work. Checking on him every hour. Talking to him when he is awake. Making sure he doesn't do too much. He tells you how he is fine and how he appreciates it, but he doesn't need the help and that he wants to go back to his apartment.

You stand your ground, telling him that he cannot leave until he is well. His injures are to serve for him to just stand back up and walk away. He is hurt enough that he needs to rest for the next three days at least. You two have gone back and forth. You winning the argument every time.

The next four days pass with ease. But you notice that Frank has something on his mind. Like he wants to say something but not saying it. He is hard to read. So, you don't know.

You sigh angrily. One cut on his ribs being stubborn and not wanting to heal right. And of course, it's the biggest cut on him. "This cut... it's not wanting to heal like the others." You say more to yourself then him.

You look when he doesn't respond. Seeing that his eyes are already on you. Your heart skips a beat at his dark eyes boarded on you. He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. His lips parted but no words coming out.

"Why doesn't it bother you?" He asks the question he has had on his mind for the past five days.

"I'm a nurse. Remember? I see a lot of things every day." You explain but he shakes his head confusing you.

"No, no, I mean... when I told what I had done. You... didn't seem bothered. I've done terrible things. Awful things and you treat me so... nicely. Why?" He stutters. His hand resting on your knee like every day when you sit in front of him.

"You only kill men, correct?" He nods in response. Watching you carefully, reading you very closely to see if he can find something else that might be there.

"Okay then." You shrug. He looks at you confused.

"That doesn't bother you? What I've done?"

"Well, did they deserve it? Were they terrible men?" He only nods.

You don't say anything. Neither does he. You only look into his eyes. Thinking about how he has you running in circles. The past five days his gaze and cocky remarks have made you flustered. You slap yourself every time he gets to you, trying to pull yourself together. But he seems to pull you back in.

You go to stand, but his hold on your knee stops you. You look at him confused. Seeing his Adams apple bob, his lips parted, and his eyes looking over your body at your scrubs that you're wearing because you had to make a trip to the hospital to sort out a few things early.

His hand moves from your knee up to your lower thigh. Your heart skipping a beat and your breath catching. His touch on your skin smoothing but his eyes say something else as he watches his hand exploring your leg. His gaze lustful on you. His hands keep moving up until he is holding your hip. Lightly squeezing it.

You know you shouldn't. You shouldn't want to kiss him. Your taking care of him. It feels like you're on work hours. Doing this, doing more would feel like breaking the rules. But the heat growing is speaking louder than your thoughts. Your body is talking for you, and you don't like it. Yet, at the same time, it almost feels good to be doing something on the edge. But before you can make any sort of a move, he's doing it for you. Beating you to it. His other hand pulling you down so that he can capture your lips in his.

It surprises you. The sudden move by him. But you quickly relax under his touch. Leaning into the kiss. Your shocked at how soft his lips are. At how gently his hold is. How ruff he is, his whole body scarred, yet his lips are so soft on yours. All the things he's done, his hands are so gently on you. He holds you as if you are a fragile glass piece that could break.

You cup his face. Kissing him softly. You pull away. Your breath heavy. You look at his eyes to him already looking at you, then down to his lips. Seeing how they are pinker and plumber now from where he has kissed you. You know you already pushed it too far. That there is no turning back. So, you kiss him again. This time more needy and not as slowly as before.

He runs his tongue over your bottom lip, and he opens his mouth a little more, letting you slip your tongue in. He moves his hand from the side of your neck to your hip. Holding both of your sides now. He puts you on his lap with ease.

"Frank..." You moan into his mouth. He hums into your lips as a response. He doesn't pull away until you do. "This isn't right. Your hurt. We, we can't do this." You try to control your breathing. Watching him study you.

"It's just a little cut." He tries to kiss you again, but you pull away. You can't believe yourself for allowing yourself to do this. You know better than this. Yes, you want it, but you should have just controlled yourself and not let those stupid beautiful eyes get to you.

"Your hurt. Oh my God..." You mumble. Trying to stand up but he keeps you in place on his lap. His lips coming to yours in hope to stop your nerves.

"Hey, hey, listen to me. I'm alright. Think you can stop nursing for second, huh?" His reassuring words are teasing. Making you laugh. You think about it. At a war with yourself.

"I'm not hurt. Please... you have no idea how long I've wanted this." He tells you after you don't say anything. He brings his lips up to hover over yours. Desperation in his eyes. In his body language as he moves closer to you.

You kiss him. Dragging it out. Keeping his lips on yours. Wanting to never lose the feeling of his kiss. You pull away, "If you start hurting. Even a little bit. We stop. Do you understand? I'll only do this if you promise you'll tell me if you're in pain." Your voice is firm.

"I promise." He kisses you. But instead of kissing your lips, he kisses your neck. Gently placing kisses on you. He stops at your jawline. Starting to suck on the skin. He pulls at your shirt, desperate to see more. Touch more.

You pull away long enough to pull it over your head. Your black laced bra revealed to him. He groans at the sight of you. His cock fully hard now. His hands move up your sides to your back. Unhooking the garment and throwing it to the side. His hands coming up to your breast and his mouth back to your lips. He leans up with you. Sitting up straight against the couch. His hard cock pressed to your clothed pussy. You both moan into each other's mouth. His hands coming up to your pants. Tugging at them. You stand in front of him for him to pull them down. He makes quick work at his pants. Pulling them down, you help. Getting them completely off.

You can't hold back the gasp when you see his size. Seeing how big he is. He pulls you back on his lap. Spraddling your legs around him. Without a word, he has his fingers in-between your folds. His finger quickly finding that sensitive bud. You brace yourself. One hand on his chest and the other on the couch. You can't hold back the moans that escape from your lips.

"Attagirl. So wet," He coos in your ear. Praising you. His finger moving down to your entrance. He pushes one finger in. Watching your face pinch together in pleasure. He keeps pushing until his whole finger is in. He adds another. His two fingers starting to curl and pump in you. You moan his name. Trying to grind your hips into his movement but he holds you still.

He uses his thumb to make circles around your clit. Adding just a little bit of pressure. His fingers curling just right. Between his fingers fucking you and his thumb on your clit, your overwhelmed with pleasure. Never feeling this good.

"That feel goods... doesn't it? My pretty girl." He says just as if he just read your mind. As your climax builds. Seconds away from coming. He stops. Pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth. Sucking your wetness off of his fingers.

"Are you okay?" You ask him with concern in your tone. He laughs at you. Kissing your lips. "Never felt better." He lines his cock up with your entrance. You lower yourself down on him. Taking every inch of him. Slowly filling you up.

He bottoms out. Taking all of his cock. You pull up. Moaning, you move your hips back down. Starting to move on his cock. "Attagirl. Just like that. That's it. Take your time. Uh, fuck, uh, you're doing so good." He holds your lower back. One hand coming up to get a handful of your hair.

His words do something to you. You somehow get wetter. His words playing over in your head. You start to go a little faster. Swirling your hips. He groans. Holding you tighter. He looks down. Watching his cock going in and out of you. He groans again.

Using all his strength to let you do it. Fighting the urge to move your hips with his hands and thrust up into you. Fighting the urge to grab you and flip you over so that he is on top fucking you deeper. He controls himself.

"Frank." You moan his name. Kissing him. Your hands rubbing his abs. Your movement on his cock almost teasing. Your lips moving to kiss his jaw. He moves one hand to hold your side. The other on your throat. Lightly squeezing. He can't take it anymore. He wraps his arm around your waist. Flipping you under him. Laying you on the couch. He holds your legs up to wrap around his waist. Pounding into you. His hips thrusting into yours. The new angle, the sudden change of him taking control makes you moan loudly.

"Uh, goddamn. Uh, sweetheart, you feel so good. Such a good girl." He groans into your neck. His thrusts starting to get sloppy as he starts to get closer to coming undone.

His cock twitches. Hitting that spot in you, making you cum. Moaning his name as your climax crashes over you. Your body tensing and your nails dragging down his back. Your climax, his name on your lips, and your nails in his back sends him into his. Thrusting into you harshly, he fills your pussy up with his come. Moaning your name. Your back arched off the couch, your breasts pressed against his bare chest.

He slows down. Stopping, he lays over you. Shifting his weight so he doesn't crush you. He kisses your salty skin. His hand rubbing your side. Coming up and lacing his fingers in yours. You go to get up to clean, but he doesn't budge. He doesn't let you get up.

"Can we just stay like this? Just for a little bit longer?" He mumbles against your chest. You can't help but laugh. Melting in his hold. Using your free hand to play with his wild hair. You kiss his forehead. Continuing to play with his hair. He purrs against you. Leaning into you. He closes his eyes, and your smile grows. Holding him close to you.

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader #the punisher smut #the punisher #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #the walking dead #mcu #marvel #marvel story #marvel cinematic universe #mcu smut #mcu imagine #mcu oneshot #smut #one shot #punisher

[siriuslydaz3d]

Angels Cry || Peter Quill

Summary: When it rains, it means angels are crying. 

Warings: Mention of death

AN: A rewrite of something I wrote as soon as I got home from seeing GOTG Vol 2

Thunder rumbled loudly outside as (Y/N) sat curled up in her chair reading some book from Terra she’d been given by Yondu years ago. Rarely had she’d seen it rain this hard, it reminded her of something her former partner in crime, and ex boyfriend had taught her years ago.

“When it rains, it means angels are crying.”

A soft knock echoed off the walls of her silent house. (Y/N) marks her spot, setting her book down and heading towards her door. Pulling it open, she comes face to face with a man she hadn’t seen in years. Peter stood there, frown etched into his face. His hand came to grab the door as she went to shut it.

"Please (Y/N), I wouldn’t be bothering you if it wasn’t important."

She sighed, stepping aside and motioning him inside. “I’ll get you a towel. You’re soaked.” She mumbled, walking back towards her bathroom, leaving Peter to stand awkwardly in her living room. She reappeared a moment later, tossing a towel at him and resuming her position in her chair. “You said it was important, so spill. First, how the hell did you find me? We’re no contact for a reason.”

"Kraglin told me where you lived." He spoke, looking around at the interior of her apartment. It’s small but the decor screams (Y/N). He recognized a set of blasters hanging on the wall, a pair Yondu had given her when they were kids. Peter’s frown grew larger when he turned back to her.

"I always assumed Yondu would've told you." She chuckled softly, tucking her legs up in the chair. A soft smile graced her features. “You don’t know how many times he begged me to come see you, or to at least let you come over. Guess I’ll never hear the end of it now.”

"(Y/N), I need to talk to you about Yondu actually." Peter said softly, as (Y/N)’s brows furrowed.

"What did the old man do now?” She spoke, her eyes meeting Peter’s. He looked away and wiped at his eyes. “Peter, what happened?”  

"Yondu...He... He died and I couldn't do anything. I tried and I couldn't help him." Peter started, clearing his throat. His hands shook as his gaze fell to the floor. “I came as soon as I could, I’m so sorry (Y/N).”

A loud sob bounced around the room, (Y/N) hand coming to their mouth. Peter darted over to the chair where she sat, arms instantly wrapping around her. The grieving girl slipped from the chair to the floor, curling her hands into Peter’s wet jacket. His hand finds its way to her hair, stroking it gently as they both cried.

"I-I'm sorry." Peter mumbled, lips pressing to her temple. Her fist curled tighter into his jacket, knuckles turning white. “I’m so so sorry honey. I know, I know. Shh.” he cooed, rubbing her back slowly.

“Don’t leave me.” She whispered, forehead resting against his shoulder. She sniffled, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “Please don’t go. I can’t be alone.”

"You don’t have to be alone, you never have. Let’s get your essentials, yeah? We’ve got room for you. You never have to be alone." Peter spoke, moving to stand and help her up. (Y/N) nods and leads him back to her room. He sits on the edge of her bed as he watches her carefully put her clothes into her bag. Glancing at her nightstand, he noticed a framed photo of him, her, and Yondu. Peter’s arms are around her waist, lips pressed to her cheek and Yondu stands beside them, mid eye roll but smiling wide. She reaches over and grabs the photo, smiling down at it as she stuffs it in her bag.

"Still hung up on me after all this time.” Peter teases, making (Y/N) roll her eyes. Peter stands up and rests his hand on her lower back. “I can’t blame you for keeping it. I look good.” He continued as she sighed.

"I love you." (Y/N) mumbled, turning around to hug him tightly. He kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arms around her. “I kept the photo because it was the only photo I had of him and I together. Just happened to also be the only photo of the guy I’ve had a crush on since I was a child.”

“Ew, you had a crush on Yondu? I really thought you had better taste.” Peter joked, earning a smack to the chest in response. He laughed and squeezed her closer to his body. “I love you too.”

#peter quill x reader #peter quill x reader angst #peter quill angst #angst #mcu x reader #mcu x reader angst #star lord angst #star lord x reader #star lord x reader angst #siriuslydaz3d #fanfic #mcu fanfic #mcu oneshot #peter quill #star lord

[uselesssomebody]

𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕚𝕕𝕒𝕪 - bucky barnes x reader

complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | bucky barnes masterlist

words || 𝟠𝕜

summary || in which the reader's holiday is hijacked

a/n || new years eve post besties. but it's late and i rushed it.

➵ not yet proofread 

➵ send me requests if you have ‘em. enjoy!

warnings || fluff/angst

when she'd said 'merry christmas, and happy holidays!' to her last customer for the evening, she hadn't expected it.

when she'd bid her sole employee an early farewell, reminding her to spend time with her family, she hadn't expected it.

when she'd finished locking up her store, gotten into her car, and had finally parked in her driveway, marveling at the beautiful lights she'd put up. she really hadn't expected it. 

she had expected her boyfriend - the one with whom today would have been her third christmas eve - to be snuggled onto the couch, languidly kissing at his special someone's cheeks and neck. she just hadn't expected that person to not be her.

she looked in horror at the sight: her boyfriend, far too cozy with another girl that she didn't even know, too preoccupied with her to even notice his actual girlfriend coming up.

his name falls from her lips in shock, unable to process it, and he finally jerks, turning, a bewildered expression on his face, somehow shocked by her reaction.

"babe? oh, shit - oh, shit-" he mumbles, rising to his feet in an instant, the girl next to him looking just as confused as her.

"what - what is this?" she's on the verge of tears, but she won’t give him to satisfaction, swallowing the growing lump in her throat.

"it's not - it's not what it looks like, babe, i swear-" when she opens her mouth to smite him, to curse, to scream, all that comes out is a sob, a whisper of her sadness echoing in the house.

"get out. get out!" her eyes have welled up, and she can't particularly see him or the girl, furiously grabbing the things he had strewn around the living room - some may have even been hers, but she didn't much care - and desperately flinging the front door open, throwing them out. she can hear the ghost of his pleas in the back of her head, but his voice sounded akin to nails on a chalkboard, "get out - oh, god - please, just leave." for a moment, he goes silent, before complying, just hesitating for a moment to grab his coat, before leaving. the girl had since risen from the couch, a litany of apologies and 'i didn't know!'s spilling from her lips. though it comforted her - only slightly - she pleaded that the girl leave as well. it takes minimal convincing, and she closes the door behind her, a final sorry left hanging in the air.

it rang out in the empty house.

though she'd tried not to cry in front of them, when she'd had the house to herself, she'd sworn she'd cried for the whole of christmas straight. she'd cried whenever she'd looked at their christmas tree, the one they both had helped decorate. she'd cried as she'd attempted to bake gingerbread cookies, not even her passion stirring any feasible ounce of delight in her. and she'd cried as she'd rewatched the holiday for the first time that season - though she could find a bit of sympathy in her cause from what had happened to both amanda and iris.

she, at least, found some solace in the fact that she could take a break from work. her employee was planning a long trip to see her parents and her boyfriend's - sob - parents. and, it'd be easy enough to increase her bakery's closing period from the three-day christmas weekend to a week. she had no pending orders, everyone having licked her supplies clean as the new year approached.

in fact, it was her first break in over two years. she'd been working non-stop for the past couple building her bakery, creating a customer base and making delicious goods for the population of the city. all that while juggling a relationship had left her constantly exhausted, with not a moment to rest her weary bones.

she reminded herself of the movie she'd been watching, and how amanda's character similarly struggled with her work-life, and her boyfriend. all that culminated in, similarly, her boyfriend cheating, and what did she do?

well, she thought to herself, a holiday sounded lovely. getting out of town, to a small cottage, far away from others and able to have a christmas in her own company. she'd binge watch all the christmas movies her boyfriend hated, bake all the goods that he'd berated, and make new memories that weren't unnecessarily belated.

and, though she didn't hold out hope for a lovely graham to whisk her away from her sadness, she wasn't sure what surprises her holiday would bring.

though she would occasionally feel uncomfortable booking places to stay with airbnb, she'd found a stellar offer that had just what she'd been looking for: a one-bedroom cottage, far away from the main city center. she figured she'd grab everything on the way there to last her a few days, and then not interact with, well, anyone, until she had to come back.

her flight was booked and she was at the airport by the next night. a breeze had made its way into the airport somehow - or the heating was minimized, but whatever - so she was fully bundled into several layers of clothing as she boarded the flight.

as quickly as she'd discarded the layers on the flight, she'd flung them back on before exiting, soon greeted by the equally chilly air of her destination. she'd booked a taxi to her cottage, and the drive was simple enough. an older gentleman sat in the front seat, far too cheery for her own peace of mind, but just enough for her to crack a smile a few times as he made a joke or recounted a story. she'd waved him goodbye as he'd dropped her off, right in front of the gated driveway.

the gate was easy enough to open, and she quickly checked her texts in one hand as her other gripped her suitcase just a bit tighter. sam, the owner, seemed to be a lovely host, though a bit anal over her cleaning up after herself. not much of a problem for her, though, as she wasn't exactly planning on leaving it a mess anyway. he'd reminded her that the keys for the place were in a small box by the door, for which he'd also given her a code. she'd fished it out with her fingertips, her hands freezing a bit, and she hastily jammed it into the lock and turned the handle. the door swung open with a loud creak, and she stepped out of the cold and into almost a burst of warmth.

the interior was almost all wooden: wooden walls and floor, wooden furniture and - well, maybe not wooden, but still a rustic brown - counters. there were throw pillows and faux furs strewn on every available surface, all pointed towards a large fireplace in the living room.

she's as excitable as ever, and she's sure it's the first time she's felt properly giddy in the past few days. she hangs her coat on the rack, gently placing her suitcase down by the couch, and practically ran to the bedroom - minimally furnished, but with a large, comfortable spread. in fact, the whole place opted for comfortable over showy, and she was in love with it. she peeled off her sweater, tentatively sliding under the covers, and practically sinking into the sheets.

sam wilson had saved her christmas. she'd have to send him a basket, alongside with her payment.

bucky barnes was not a man to feel close to collapsing, but his last mission had emotionally drained him. worse, as much as he'd been looking forward to getting back to the tower, and maybe grabbing a beer with steve or sam, he was in for an unfortunate surprise.

"buck?" sam's voice rang in his ear, and it made him snap his droopy eyes open, sitting farther upright as his eyes refocused on the empty country road.

"yeah, sam?" his voice is gruff, and he knows that sam's aware of his condition.

"we can't fly you in; their cataloging any flights in and out-"

"what?" bucky's car jerks to a stop as he pulls over, unable to believe what he's hearing. the city he was in was practically in the pocket of a national gang, of whom he'd just infiltrated and stopped a major plan from occurring. they were on high alert for him, but he figured he'd already be back in new york by the time they'd even realize who he was, "why can't you use that ship - the one that becomes invisible-" usually, sam would laugh at bucky's inability to remember the names of their tech, but he found himself too sympathetic for the guy this time.

"it's still being repaired, remember what happened in siberia?" how could bucky forget the mission that essentially blew one of their ships out of the sky? he just figured it wasn't that ship, "but don't worry: we've got a safehouse that should be set up for you about 12 miles east from your current location." bucky's brows furrowed.

"a safehouse?" bucky wasn't aware that the avengers had any one of those: he'd never used one before.

"yeah, stark's got a lot of random, small properties he owns all over the world. shield uses them as safehouses if necessary. it's a nice place, just hole up for a bit until we figure this all out, alright?" bucky bit back a groan.

"yeah, yeah, sure." even without the groan, sam could hear the ice in his voice.

"uh... merry christmas, buddy?" okay, then he groaned.

"go fuck yourself, sam."

she jolted up from her seat on the couch, gently snugged into the cushions as a mug of hot chocolate teetered at her lips, coming dangerously close to spilling all over her, as she heard a car pull over in the driveway. she peered out of the window, and saw a sleek black vehicle, a tall brunet stepping out of it, seemingly on the phone with someone. her eyes widened.

a home invasion? goddammit, this wasn't even her place; just her luck that she'd be burgled on her holiday. she wasn't quite sure what to do, but she sprinted to the kitchen, grabbing a heavy pan that she'd used to cook her eggs that morning, before ducking behind the small bit of wall between the counter and the entrance to the kitchen. it was far too close to the front door for comfort, but she didn't really have time to go any further. she hears his steps onto the porch, but he stops, lingering at the door for a moment. she can hear him continue to talk, but can't decipher what he's saying.

on the other side of the door, bucky was furiously looking around for the keys to the place, with sam on the end a bit confused as to why they weren't in the designated box for them.

"look, buck - uh, whatever. i think there's an extra one in the potted plant hanging from the top - ya see it?" bucky glanced up, and sure enough, there was a decorative potted plant above him. he reaches into it, fishing for the keys, and grasps the metal, pulling his fingers out, alongside a solid pinch of dirt.

"yeah, i got it, sam. i'll let you know once i'm done settling in." sam cheerily agrees, attempting to soften the annoyance of his friend. the line clicks off, as bucky places the key in the lock.

she hears this, and wonders if he's lock-picking. she's also wondering if that would fuck up the lock - shit, she was definitely losing her deposit.

the door swings open with a hearty creak, and she hears him step inside. she doesn't peek over the side of the wall, though she wants to, and she clutches the pan to her chest, barely breathing.

he can hear her, though. he can hear the sound of a beating heart, the sound of shaky, small breaths, and the sound of clothes rustling as her chest rises and falls. he grits his teeth, wondering if the gang had managed to intercept his comms, and had set up camp to ambush him. he hesitates for a moment, before turning the corner at lightning speed.

she hears him, raising the pan as high as it will go, and bringing it crashing down over his chest. except, the impact never occurs as - as though with superhuman reflexes - he catches her arm, pushing her almost painfully into the counter. he's got a cold - almost scary look on his face, but upon hearing her pained whine as her back made contact with the glossy, hard material behind her, both his expression and his grip soften.

"i'm sorry - oh, i'm so sorry - please, just don't hurt me - take whatever you want, i-" she cuts herself off with a sob, and his countenance completely shift, from one of wariness to that of confusion.

"what - ah, shit." he releases his hands, taking the pan from her light grasp and setting it down. she doesn't want to look up at him, but she wonders why he hasn't started taking things or hurting her, "just - goddammit - just come with me, okay?" she wrenches her body away from him.

"i'm not going anywhere with you!" he sighed: of course, why would she?

"look, will you just-" he fished into his pockets, and her eyes widened again, trying to book out of the kitchen. she doesn't get anywhere, though, fruitlessly struggling against the door that was his torso. he'd finally managed to procure his shield identification, showing it to her to prove that he wasn't some low-level criminal, "there, i'm not here to hurt you." she glanced down at the card. though she wasn't quite sure what 's.h.i.e.l.d.' was, she knew that the government seal on the card looked official enough. she finally stopped struggling.

"what - uh, is this house - or am i under arrest-?" her mind rushed with questions, and he can extend some sympathy to her obviously frazzled state. in the few short seconds he had, he'd glanced at the hot chocolate, the book by the coffee table, and the snack on the counter: this girl had not a clue what was going on.

"i've - uh, i've gotta ask you a couple questions, yeah?" she swallows nervously, but nods. he gestures to the couch, and he takes a seat on one of the other chairs in the living room. he opened his cell, calling sam and putting him on speaker, letting the phone rest on the table between them.

"hey, buck? place isn't too bad, is it?" bucky suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. 

"there's a civ in the safehouse. you're on speaker, care to explain what we should do?" she looked between the phone and the man - buck? - as she tried to process the situation. this place was a safehouse?

"a civ? i don't-" the man on the other end went silent, and bucky looked at the phone in confusion, "oh. oh."

a terrifying conclusion dawned on sam. there was a bustling on his end, as he frantically attempted to find natasha. thank all his lucky stars, she was on the other end of the controls room, assisting in an hostage situation clint was solving. he'd just got the hostages out, and nat assumed a moment of reprieve, stretching her arms to get more comfortable, when she heard sam practically screaming for her. 

"sam? what? what's going on?" sam panted, gesturing to his cell, of which both bucky and his current housemate could still hear him.

"which of those places did we rent out? number 212 or 112?" she's confused by the question, but opens up an adjacent tab, checking their bookings. 

"2 - 212!" sam curses, collapsing into the chair next to her. 

"sam? what's going on?" bucky holds the phone closer to him, and her eyes widen.

"wait, sam? like the guy who owns this place?" bucky furrowed his brows at her before swallowing, light understanding glossing over his expression. 

"alright, wilson explain yourself." he heard a hard swallow from his friend on the other side. 

"okay - fuck, okay. look, this job doesn't pay well, right? i'm always complaining to you about it?" bucky doesn't respond, "anyways, s.h.i.e.l.d.'s got a bunch of these safehouses that practically no one uses, and so we figured that it wouldn't be any harm to occasionally rent them out. we booked someone for this place - 212 - but when i was talking to you, i misread the location, and assumed i'd routed you to 112. so - yeah. she's not a spy or anything, definitely a civilian." 

upon hearing sam's monologue, they both sighed deeply. 

"alright, so. what do we do? why don't you just find another one nearby?" bucky's quick to respond, just wanting to get out of this situation as soon as possible.

"right, yeah, of course. uh - just one little problem with that." bucky, once again, doesn't verbally respond, but does close his eyes in annoyance, "uh, yeah, there are no other available places." bucky glances up for a moment, at her almost distraught face, and sighs.

"'lright, wilson, you've done enough for now." before sam has an opportunity to respond, he hangs up, sighing as he chucks the phone on the table. he leans back a bit further, as she settles further into the cushions. she looks down - worse than him, somehow, so he clears his throat, "look, i'm sorry about - uh, back there. if i hurt you." she shook her head.

"no - it's, uh, it's fine." her eyes flick to his for a moment, but she looks away just as quickly. she's not quite sure what to say, but swallows her slight annoyance at the disrupting of her solitude, and tries to look at him. she gives him her name, holding her hand out for him to shake, "i - i suppose it's nice to meet you." she'd perfected a customer service voice, and she layered it on just slightly when speaking to him. 

"yeah - my name's bucky." he says after a moment of hesitation, but figures that there's not much else to do, considering that they were essentially stuck together. she looked around, wondering what to say next, when she glances back at the kitchen. 

"have you eaten yet?" 

she'd made her way to the kitchen after he'd confessed, needing a bit of prompting, that he hadn't eaten - at least, not anything substantial - for quite some time. a burger that he'd grabbed at the drive-thru at a nearby mcdonald's - as she so readily reminded him - did not constitute a proper meal. 

after staring at her now empty spot on the couch for a moment, wondering what had just happened, he'd gotten up, following her. she'd already opened the fridge, and he nearly smacked into the door as she rummaged in it. he watched her take three trips, pulling out an assortment of vegetables, some cream, and cheese. then, from the pantry, she pulled out a few more ingredients, and he watched in near-wonder at the quick pace at which she was working. 

"uh - what're you doing?" she glanced back at him for just a moment, furrowing her eyebrows as if it was obvious. well, it was, it's just that he wasn't particularly used to seeing people cooking - believe it or not, barely any of the avengers make good cooks. especially steve. 

"well, i like to think i made a great creamy pasta and -" she poked her head up from finding a pan in one of the cupboards, "i suppose i'm letting you be the judge of it. not really much of a cook otherwise." bucky found it hard to believe that, and laughed lightly at the comment. 

"i'm sure you're better than me." he mumbles it under his breath, and he's not sure she'd heard it over the sound of her beginning to chop up vegetables, "wait - uh, here, let me." she looks back at him when he lightly stops her movement. he discards the thin jacket he's got on, putting it on the rack, and he comes back in a short-sleeved black shirt. she's not even paying much attention, as she's turned to begin washing the pasta, when she sees him settle in beside her. she glances over as he grips as the bell peppers, neatly slicing them, when a sort of hiccup-gasp leaves her mouth. he doesn't look at her in confusion, though, owing to the fact that he was expecting it, "helps with cutting," he attempts a joke, flexing the fingers of his metal arm slightly higher as if to show them off.

"hmm? oh, right, of course." she looks like she had to remind herself to look away from it, clearing her throat and forcibly turning her head. 

they made a surprisingly good pair, and in record time, not only is their pasta finished and plated, but the both of them are also holding fun, though discreet, conversation. 

after all, she wasn't exactly particularly keen to disclose her relationship status, and he - well, he was technically a federal agent, and to mention much more, he was sure, was essentially treason.

so, instead, she discussed her job, and the various customers she was dealing with, as well as the desserts she was baking up. bucky found it to be, initially, a far simpler and more quaint life than his, until he realized how much some of her customers sounded like director fury should things stray from script on missions. similarly, he would tell her about his own band of friends - the good, the bad and the ugly of their adventures.

though she still found some annoyance towards sam, she had to admit - the guy did sound cool.

as they wrapped up, the sun had set, and the cold of the winter had begun to seep into the cottage. bucky, however, seemed practically unphased as she chattered away in the cold and - soon enough - she realized why. when she'd brushed past him to place the dishes into the sink - god! he felt like a furnace, and she really had to resist the urge to fall into him and finally put her out of her cold suffering. 

she was broken out of her thoughts by the sound of the door clicking unlocked. without a word, he had fought to go back out into the snowy evening, and she watched him trudge to his car at the end of the driveway, mouth a little agape. he hadn't even put his jacket back on - for christ's sake - and for a moment she worried his arm would practically short-circuit or die in the wet cold - much like her phone sometimes does. 

no, instead, he simply pulled a large cloth from out of the backseat, and she averted her gaze quickly as she turned around, turning towards her suitcase and opening it gently, rifling through it for a pair of woolen socks and a jacket, sweater of something warmer than the full-sleeved, cotton top she had on. 

he comes back in, a gust of cold air accompanying him as he does so, and she glances back at him, noticing the similarly large sweater in his own hands. 

"way too cold, isn't it?" she mumbles, realizing they were both looking for the same thing. he looked down at the neatly folded sweater by her and nodded, a small smile on his lips.

"yeah - definitely." she can hear him walk over to the couch, and, finding her book still there, he's careful to slot his finger between the last two pages she was on and hand it back to her, "uh - would you like this back?" she turns, a bit confused, but takes it from him anyways. she watches, then, as he seems to make himself a bit too comfortable on the couch - and that is when she protests.

"wait, are you - no, absolutely not: go sleep on the bed." she sounds a bit like her mother, and she's sure bucky hears it too, because he looks up at her in slight amusement. 

"no, don't worry about it; after all, i'm the one hijacking your vacation, right?" he attempts to make a joke, but it doesn't change the look on her face.

"you're the one back from some - i don't know - top secret foreign mission, right? you deserve a good night's rest." it's a bit comical, the both of them arguing over this.

"well, you've already made up for that with the dinner." he smiles at her, and god - had he been that gorgeous previously as well?

"which you helped make..." she swallows a bit after her mumble, taken aback by her realization about the man in front of her. 

of course, she'd noticed he was attractive. but that was a bit more subdued when he'd knocked her against a counter. then, it'd been further subdued by her annoyance at the loss of her lonely vacation. but now, after an evening of laughs and smiles - of homely activities and domestic pleasures, she found herself wanting to hold his gaze for longer - if only to lose herself in his pale eyes. 

"well, if you want me to take it, you'll have to carry me there, which - well..." he gestured between the both of them, trailing off, and the ghost of a smile fell over her lips, cracking the otherwise determined expression on her face. 

"but -" she caught herself, sighing instead, "alright, then. i'll - ugh, i'll take the bed." though she'd obviously gotten a better deal, she almost sounded as if she had it worse. 

she bids him a goodbye - and, though it was an early night for both of them, she was knocked out soon after dimming the lights.

she supposed a near home invasion would do that to ya. 

she feels a bit lost, looking outside the door of the cottage. there's something in the distance - she can't tell exactly what - but, as it nears, she can make out the 4 distinct limbs of a man. she swallows, unsure of whether to scream at the oncoming person, to run from them, or to hide. she decides on the latter, curling into a little nook between the couch and the wall, peeking for just one last moment over the window to see what distance he'd made. 

he was already at the door - and there was a knock. she couldn't see his face - nothing but an almost lecherous smile. there's another knock, and then another, and then she hears a faint shout. it doesn't sound aggressive - rather, it was almost scared. she held her breath as the shouts became louder and more agonized and she just knew she had to help him. she had to help him, she just had to help him-

she sits bolt upright, gasping as she realized she'd been dreaming. that allowed her a moment of calm, until she realized the shouts she was still hearing weren't the echoes of the ones in her dream, but rather ones she was hearing from the living room.

she scrambles to her feet, almost tripping over her covers, before flinging open her door with a rather loud bang. usually, she'd wince and hope it hadn't hit the wall in any harmful way, but she was so focused on figuring out what had happened that she couldn't have cared less. she turns the corner and the couch comes into view. 

the ringing in her ear hadn't even allowed her to realize that the shouts had stopped, as bucky had been awakened from his fitful slumber by her opening the door. she saw his hands over his face, the metal allowing the flush on his cheeks to cool.

"bucky?" she mumbles it - suddenly feeling intrusive.

"hmm?" he mumbles from behind his hands, before wiping his face and widening his eyes, forcing himself awake, "i'm alright." for a moment, she listens to his shallow breaths even out, standing a bit awkwardly in the doorway, before making her way towards the kitchen. he actually doesn't notice, assuming she'd gone back to bed, and he swallowed heavily in guilt of waking her up. 

there's a dull replay of his dream in his ears, so he doesn't hear her as she walks up, lightly setting down something by him. only when she gently touches his shoulder, does his face snap up, eyes meeting hers. she handed him a mug, warm to the touch - though her smile feels warmer. 

she turns to the other side of the couch, prompting him to raise his legs to make space for her, before also sitting down. the looks at the mug, seeing a sweet-smelling, brown liquid face him, and he hears her sip.

"um - hot chocolate tends to help me with them." she gestures to his cup, speaking almost shyly. 

"them?" he asks, his brows furrowed.

"nightmares." she clarifies, taking another sip. he blinks, wondering how she'd figured, but decided against asking, taking a shaky breath before sipping on the drink. 

it filled his chest with warmth, the cold of his thoughts almost melting as he glanced at her. she wasn't looking at him, so he allowed his eyes to, similarly, drink her in. her hair was a bit of a mess, and her eyes had puffed up a little because of her rest - and she was smiling. she did it a lot, he realized, and this one looked a little hesitant, as if she was expecting something. he cleared his throat.

"it's nice." she meets his gaze.

"i'd hope so." 

he hopes she won't ask him any questions and, to her credit, she doesn't even speak much. she's glancing between her drink, the couch and him, and he's curious as to what she's thinking.

her eyes were lingering on the many scars on his bare chest, finding a deep sadness in it. the skin of his metal shoulder was littered in them, and she wondered how he'd gotten the arm. she knew better than to ask, but she became further interested in the truly mysterious man in front of her. 

both of their drinks dwindled, but it didn't prompt conversation. in fact, she'd taken his drink without a word once he'd finished, and was ready to go back to bed in a similar fashion, when his voice stopped her. 

"thank you." she's not sure if she's meant to hear it, but it makes her smile, allowing his thanks to soothe her mind after his shouts. 

the next morning, she was woken up to the smell of toast and eggs, and she, rather groggily, takes a moment to freshen up in the bathroom, before joining him in the kitchen. 

"how'd you sleep?" she asked, as she'd opened the fridge to help take out the butter. 

"perfectly." she assumes it's a joke - as, well, duh - but he was in fact, very serious. 

many of his nights were littered with not only one nightmare, but several, and he'd anticipated more after he'd closed his eyes once more. though, maybe because of the hot chocolate (though he felt more inclined to think it was just her), his affliction did not reappear. 

they ate and, afterwards, she'd taken over the couch, while he'd gone into the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom. seeing him tucked in there, she checked her phone, and, seeing a few rather worried messages from her mother, she decided to give her a ring. 

her mother was more than relieved to hear back from her, but that joy dissipated quickly at the knowledge of why her daughter had become so distant. 

"he did what?" her mother was furious and, though she wanted to, refrained from reminding her daughter that she had, in fact, found herself to be distrusting of her boyfriend. 

"on christmas, ma! can you believe it?"

"so what did you do?" she counted her lucky stars at the strong woman she'd raised when her daughter recounted her banishing the disloyal bastard. 

she'd been sure to speak quietly and, figuring as even the shouts from last night had been massively muffled by the bedroom door, and that bucky was behind not one, but two doors, her personal life would remain just that - personal. 

of course, she wasn't exactly privy to the fact that bucky's hearing wasn't exactly mortal. he'd nearly nicked himself shaving as he'd heard her recount the story, his eyes widening, and then his chest depressing in sympathy for her rather horrible ordeal. 

when he'd come back out - though he was no actor - he'd given no specific indication that he was aware of anything. okay, maybe he'd acted a little overtly stupid, but she'd bought it, continuing to flip through the pages of her book. 

around mid morning, as she'd begun to look in the fridge for lunch preparations, she realized how low she was running on goods. after all, she'd only bought enough for herself over the course of the week, unaware of the second person the home would be housing. 

so, after lunch, bucky had offered to drive her to the nearest market - going against her initial plan of calling a cab. he figured he owed that much to her after the previous night and - hey, she wasn't exactly going to turn down the offer. 

the car was bigger on the inside than it looked, but she still felt impossibly close to the man in the driver's seat, sinking further into the plush cushion of the passenger. they'd made light conversation about the scenery on the twenty-odd minute drive, but the majority of it had been left with the radio faintly playing in the background.

after they'd parked, she'd swaddled herself into the scarf she'd brought, and quirked her brow when she saw him wear a pair of sunglasses. sure, the sun was out, but she supposed she wasn't accustomed to seeing them in winter. 

he'd waited as she'd closed the car door, and patiently stood on the balls of his feet as she tried to remember the way to the outdoor market she'd been to previously. once she had, though, he's quick to follow her. 

the place was bustling, with people walking up and down, a great deal of chatter in the air. vendors called for her and him, attempting to entice them towards their goods. one of them had stepped in front of her in the hopes of convincing her to pay for a necklace she'd less than glanced at a moment ago, and she only manages to circumvent him due to the firm grip that bucky suddenly wrapped around her hand, pulling her closer to him to avoid the other man. 

in fact, this was a great help, his large body pushing through the crowd while making sure she didn't lose her way, and they were at the fruit vendor in record time. she glanced around, looking for the freshest fruits available, urging him to do the same. 

she was quick to pick up some apples and bananas, some grapes and clementines. he contributed by picking up some plums, citing them as his favorite fruit, and she teased him by saying 'dude, peaches are definitely better'.

they'd made their way over the market, picking up fresh produce and ingredients. there was a small flower vendor at the end of the street, and she dreamily looked over the bouquets of irises tucked a little farther to the back, roses and tulips dominating the front of the shop. 

the first time she'd watched the holiday with her boyfriend, he'd bought her the flowers as a homage to her favorite character in the film. he'd mentioned that the woman who'd sold them to his said they were sometimes used to indicate faith and trust, and had let the sentiment hang heavily in the air. 

she gulped, averting her gaze, and hoping bucky hadn't noticed. if he had, he'd done a good job hiding it, and they're quick to make their way back to the car. 

as they get home, she's quick to unpack her groceries, telling him to settle down on the couch - maybe put on a movie. she hands him a fresh plum as she returns, a clementine in her own hand, and the first movie on the only english channel was the one they resorted to, cracking jokes at the campy nature of it. 

the sun begins setting as the credits roll, and he offers to make dinner. she agrees, only on the condition that she would adjacently bake a batch of cookies; how could he say no to that?

she'd unveiled more about her love for baking over the process, quick to swipe the mixing bowl away with a playful scolding when he'd attempted to dip his finger into the dough. he pouted, and she smiled, getting a spoon for him instead. 

god, it tasted good - and he wondered if he should be paying for them. 

the dinner's lovely - he's a better cook than he thinks - and his endless praise of her cookies makes her hope that he can't feel her flush when he reaches over her to grab another one. 

as he'd gone to the bathroom, she shifted her things to the couch, determined to get him to sleep on his bed, hoping it would minimize his bad dreams. she was already half-way asleep when he'd realized, and he looked at her a bit expectantly, as he crossed his arms. 

"what's this?"

"go to sleep, bucky." she mumbled back.

"you're gonna throw me off. i'll just be thinking about the fact that i left you to sleep on the couch. my ma didn't raise a son like that." she rolled her eyes a little, an obvious smile on her lips. 

"oh well. if you want me off, you'll just have to carry me." she recounts his ultimatum from before, smiling happily to herself, before turning so that she couldn't see him. she heard him hum behind her, and expected him to give up and walk back, but, instead, she heard increasingly loud footsteps.

she squeaks in shock at the feeling of him actually lifting her up, fully still swaddled in her blankets, and making the short trek with her to the main bed, setting her down shockingly gently. 

"there ya go." he smiles down at her, pursing his lips to avoid laughing at her confusion.

"huh - how did - what?" she looks up at him, still stunned by the effortlessness of his actions.

she scrambles back up into a sitting position, a small smile on your lips, but saw that his expression had turned just slightly sour in the meanwhile. she patted the space on the bed next to her, and he looked at her in shock, until she rolled her eyes and simple pulled him down into a sitting position.

"what're you-" bucky looked at her, trying very hard to maintain a victorian distance from her. she looks at his own hard expression with a curious one of her own.

"do you wanna talk about it?" she mumbled, gauging his reaction.

"what?" he hoped it wouldn't have come to this.

"your - uh, your nightmares? it tends to help me a lot when i could vent to someone about them and sort of rationalize the really bad stuff and -"

"no." his face's turned from hard to cold, finding himself suddenly defensive, "why would I ever want to do that?" her brows furrowed in shock: the outburst was nothing like what she'd previously seen out of him.

"what? i was just trying to help you!"

"you shouldn't be asking about personal things like that," he mumbles, as if he was chastising a young child.

"what, i can't want to help you after I hear you screaming bloody murder in the next room?"

"it's - it's personal! would you have appreciated me wanting to help you - to talk to you? about your issues with your boyfriend? of course not, it's personal!" he'd been looking away from her for the majority of this tangent, but when he finally turned around, his anger immediately softened. she had an aghast expression on her face, simultaneously bewildered as to how he could have possibly known about that, and also to how he would cross every single boundary they seemed to have established.

she contemplated leaving the room, finding some solace in a breath of fresh air, but he beats her to it, leaving the room and shutting the door behind him with panther-like silence.

the next morning, after a fitful night of annoyance, then anger, then worry, as to how this would all turn out, she’d risen to pin-drop silence. she’d climbed out of the bed sharply, quick to rub the sleep from her eyes, and left her room so quickly, she didn’t give herself much moment to fix her appearance. 

unfortunately, she had found no reason to have had to anyways, as the jacket that had hung by the door for the past few days had gone. there was no indication of a depression in the cushions of the couch, or any covers by it, and the pillows that had been placed there previously had disappeared, throw pillows neatly fluffed in their place. she peered past the slanted blinds, and the large black vehicle showed barely any sign of being there, save for the faint view of tire tracks, having grown hard to see under the continued heavy snowfall.

she sucked in a deep breath of solitude. and she hated it. 

the looked down at the phone in her hand, the glaring face of the date staring back at her. she released the balls of her feet, thumping down onto the barren couch - to spend new years eve alone. 

she wasn’t quite sure what to do. she’d watched a movie, and then two, and she hadn’t really cracked very many smiles and laughs. she’d listened to music and podcasts as she’d cooked, hoping to distract herself, but had found the meal to be a bit bland and unappealing by the end of it. finally, she’d settled down with a hot chocolate and a book, curling as far into the covers as she could. it was still early evening, and though she thought she’d be staying up this new year, she was now sure that she’d simply will herself to pass out by 8 or 9. 

her eyes had begun to flutter shut, and the book had become a little harder to read, when she heard a knock on the door. she took a moment to register it, and, by that point, there had been another knock. she got to her feet slowly, wary as she’d been the second day she was here. she peered through the blinds, and the car was back, leaving her to spring to the door with a more collected manner. 

she swung it open, and, seeing a very apologetic bucky behind it, the hard expression she’d been willing to put on faded. her eyes took in his slightly flushed, seemingly out-of-breath appearance and, believing it to be from the cold, she ushers him in. 

“i’m sorry,” he whispers to her, as she leans over to help him with his coat. 

“i know.” she mumbles back, and when he turns around, she can see a smile on his lips. 

“i’m serious.” he doesn’t really look it, but he is.

“i am too.” his metal arm, having been ducked behind him for the previous few moments, finally sprung out, and with it, too came the emergence of a small bouquet of blues and purples, and drooping petals of a handful of irises having come into her - suddenly ecstatic - view. she looks at them with a great deal of shock, unbelieving that her moment of reminiscence had been so observable for him. 

“i shouldn’t have said it - i’m sorry, i overstepped-” as he speaks, she gently takes the flowers from him, before swinging his arms around his neck, his large build, though having been in the cold, warming her from the freeze of the morning. he’s tentative at first, shocked by the gesture, until he realized the joy in her frame, and obliged, wrapping his arms around her. 

“you scared me in the morning.”

“i’m sorry.”

“i’m happy you’re here, you can stop saying sorry-”

“i’m sorry.” she detaches, a large grin on her face, and she’s quick to lead him to the couch, her hand not even close to enveloping his, but trying nonetheless. 

“didn’t realize how much i wanted a normal new years.”

“you think this is normal?”

“i’m spending it with someone who makes me happy. what could be more normal?” he felt a warmth in his chest form at her words, not shy to hold her close to himself as they found a comfortable position, wrapped in the heat of each other. 

there was only a few hours until the new year, and until a new beginning. one they hoped be true for the both of them.

when sam had called bucky early the next morning, it had been her who had heard it, the ringing of it on the nightstand by the bed shaking her out of her sleep. she reached over the still sleeping body of it’s owner to answer it, before shaking him awake so that he could take it. 

at first he found the gesture sweet, wanting to take a moment to appreciate her in her natural state, until that beautiful mood was slightly soured by sam’s teases. 

though, he was quick to be informed that the surveillance on flights had lowered significantly in the past few days, and that they were sending the quinjet down to pick him up. 

she’d been a bit surprised to hear the news, having hoped for more time for this new beginning to blossom, but realized the implications of entangling - truly - a stranger in a foreign land. though he didn’t seem all that strange, and the cottage didn't feel all that foreign.

they’d prepared breakfast in wait of the aircraft, and she’d made these amazing pancakes, ones he wouldn’t have minded gorging on a thousand times over. he’d asked her about how long her stay would be, and she pondered it for a moment too.

“i’m leaving by tomorrow. i’ve got to set up shop in a couple days anyways.” he’d asked her of the address, and she’d scribbled it down for him, promising him a free tray if he popped in between his top-secret missions. he’d laughed, pocketing the note, and kissing her cheek when he’d heard the aircraft’s discreet, but not quiet, turbines outside.

he’d entered it, an agent he wasn’t very familiar with piloting it, and he sat back when he decided to fish the note out. it consisted of an address that, not only he knew, but he was also very familiar with. 

with her bakery just about a stone’s throw away from the avenger’s tower, she’d seen a few of them jog by for a coffee or a morning donut. sometimes scott lang, sometimes clint barton, and many time happy hogan on behalf of tony stark. what she’d never expected, however, was her to have switched the sign from closed to open two days from then, and have a customer come in immediately. 

she’d never expected herself to feel excited by the sound of his voice, and have her eyes light up at his smile. 

she hadn’t expected to serve him, and have him convince her to sit with him, before any other customers came in.

and she hadn’t expected it to become a ritual between them, her even opening the shop just a little bit early to accommodate for his schedule. 

though, she supposed, she’d never really ever expected to have met him.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mcu #marvel #mcu imagine #mcu oneshot #the holiday #sebastian stan

[mirkwoodshewolf]

I’m the cool aunt; Yelena Belova x child reader

*Author’s note*

This took me a bit due to work and life schedule but I finally came around and decided to do this sweet little request for @zinziekusworld​ who wanted a Yelena Belova x child reader.  Now this is my first time writing for Yelena so I HOPE I did her justice cause really she’s like my FAV female heroine character next to Wanda and Natasha.

Not really any warnings what so ever except maybe a couple of swear words but really this is a FLUFFY FIC where Nat is ALIVE and she is HAPPY as is Yelena continuing saving the other Widows. Enjoy my lovelies until the next oneshot comes out. 

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@queensdivas​

@queen-paladin​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@austynparksandpizza​

@peter-parkers-cullen-nerd​

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Today was a special day.  According to mama, she told me that I would be meeting my Aunt for the first time today since she was here in Ohio and right now I was making a special card for her since this will be the first time meeting her.

“Whatcha doin (Y/n)?” asked my bestest friend in the whole world, Michelle.

“I’m making a card for my auntie. I’m going to be meeting her for the first time today.”

“Wow really, that’s great!” she exclaimed.

“Your aunt’s coming over?” asked my other bestest friend Cera asked.  “That’s not good.”

“What do you mean?” I asked her as I paused my coloring.

“Aunts are nothing but trouble.” She said.  “Whenever my aunt comes over, she always pinches and squeezes my cheeks so hard they’re end up red for a really long time.”

“She’s right. When my aunt comes over, I get covered in her old, nasty aunt spit when she kisses me.” Our other friend Tyler came over to say.

“I don’t think so guys. When my aunt comes over, she brings me presents from all the places she’s been to.” Michelle said.

“Well that’s only one cool aunt that I know of. I heard from Cory that his aunt only gives out mints and toothbrushes for Halloween.” Tyler said.

“And Shanice’s aunt only screams and yells. Trust me, she lives in my neighborhood and when he aunt comes over, everybody knows she’s there.” Cera said.

“Do—do you really think my aunt will be any of those things?”

“Trust me (Y/n), it’s better you don’t get your hopes up. Like I said, aunts are nothing but trouble.” Cera said before walking off with Tyler behind her.

“Don’t listen to her, sometimes Cera doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

“But then sometimes she does. Remember when she told Derek not to climb up the fence above the batter’s box but he did it anyway.”

“Well Derek’s a jerk and doesn’t listen to anyone.”

“Yeah but remember he ended up screaming his head off and said that she was right. And he never admits to being wrong.”

“Still I wouldn’t let it bother you, I hope you and your aunt get to be good friends with each other. Just like me and my aunt.” She then ran off leaving me to my desk alone looking down at my card nervously.

I was now walking with the rest of the Blue walkers heading away from the school and to our crosswalk that would lead us to the library across the street where all the parents were waiting for us.

The crossing guard soon stepped forward and held up the stop sign as well as held out her hands to get the cards to stop and allow us to walk across the street.  I waved by to Michelle who was picked up by her older sister and I proceeded to walk the rest of the way home (mom made sure that our neighborhood was the safest one in the whole town. Yes she’s the neighborhood watch Captain in case you’re wondering).

It only took a few minutes from the library to arrive at my house. It’s like your basic house, 2 levels, a good backyard, a built-in playground and a good enough space to put up the pool during the summer time.  I punched in the code to unlock the door and I heard the click telling me it was correct then I opened the door.

“Mama I’m home from school!” I called out but there was no response.  I walked further into the house and called out again, “Mom?”

“She ran to the store to get some mac and cheese.” Quickly thinking I took off my shoe and tossed toward the voice but a hand caught it, and peeking out from behind her hand she sung out. “Hi.”

She was fairly young, younger than my mom, had blonde hair and wore a brown jacket, a yellow shirt and black jeans.  Rings decorated her fingers and she had greenish, blue eyes.

“Quick reflexes. Reminds me at that age.” She said as she tossed my shoe to the couch.  “Either she taught you how to do that or you’re just naturally gifted.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Yelena. I’m an old friend of you mom’s. Old, old friend. And before you make any old people’s joke, I’m not that old!” going by the Russian accent alone, maybe she was one of the former widows my mom helped save long before she adopted me.

“Were you one of the widows?” she looked down solemnly.

“I don’t do that anymore. But yes. We—we knew each other back then. Hell even longer than that you could say.” I looked her up and down and asked.

“How did you get into our house? It’s a secret lock only mom and I know.”

“I was a former widow, breaking into homes was kinda my specialty. Not proud of it but still it’s a skill set. And your mama is too predictable even when she thinks she isn’t.” Yelena said as she sat down at the dinner table, her feet crossed over one another and resting up against the table.

“And I’m supposed to just—believe you?”

“Good reflexes and smart. I like that you’re a good kid.” She said with a slight smile.  “Look you can choose to believe me or not the point is you’ll be needing someone to look after you till your mom comes back so—why not?”

“And when my mom does come back and sees you, will she just accept that?”

“Oh she’s definitely cool with that. Like I said, we practically grew up together. So kiddo, what would you like to do first? You into games? Cause I’ve been trying out that uhh—what do they call it uhh—Mario kart? Yeah, yeah and I’ve gotten pretty good at it. Kate Bishop still hasn’t forgiven me for beating her when she played that dinosaur guy.”

“You mean Yoshi?”

“That’s its name? Yeesh terrible name for a dinosaur.”

“Yoshi’s a great character!”

“Well if you wish to prove me wrong, how about we play for it?” she said pulling out Super Mario kart.  I went over and turned on the Nintendo and then grabbed the two switches consoles and handed her the blue one.  “Give me the red one.” She said.

“But I always use the red one.”

“But I am the guest/babysitter so you have to do what I say, less I tattle-tale you to your mom.” I grumbled and handed her the red Nintendo switch console and she did a soft cheer while I got the blue one.  “Okay so you be that Yoshi lame dino and I’ll be the main guy Mario.”

“Fine with me. And we’ll do my favorite track, Ghost valley.”

“Ooo spooky. You sure you won’t get too scared?” she teased me.

“Will you?” she laughed.

“Smart, quick reflexes and sassy. I’m really liking you kid.” I started up the course and when the countdown began we both made our characters go as fast as they could.

Every twist and turn we made and trying to surpass the other, of course she had to cheat by first covering nudging my side and then tried to make me drop my switch, in the end Yelena won the first round.

“That’s not fair you cheated.”

“No, no it was the ghosts. We were in a haunted valley after all, you know ghosts can pop out of the screens and screw with you. Like this one movie I saw that I may show you.”

“I doubt it. My mom doesn’t allow me to watch scary movies, even though I saw JAWS like a hundred times.”

“The shark movie? Please that’s not scary.”

“It is if you don’t know what lurks in the ocean. Have you seen the way sharks blend with the water?”

“Okay I’ll give you that. But if it were up to me, I’d let you watch scary movies.”

“That’s—wait you’re diverting the conversation of the fact you cheated!”

“Okay so that was a lie, I did cheat. But why not make it two out of three?”

“How about we raise the stakes?” I challenged.

“What do you have in mind?” she asked with a raised brow.

“Well tonight is vegetable night, loser has to eat a double serving of broccoli and asparagus.”

“Eww oh what has your mother done to you? But you’re on kid!” we shook on it and restarted the race to which I won the second round and she won the third.

It was down to the wire with this last race.  Two more turns would decide who would win and who would have to suffer the defeat of double helpings of the disgusting broccoli and asparagus.

“I’m home! (Y/n)?”

“In here mom!” I exclaimed leaning further inward as I shoved Yelena’s leg.

“Hey you little stinker that’s cheating!”

“Like how you tickled me to win the last round!?” I mocked.

“What’s going on here?” I heard mom say.

“Can’t talk Natasha. One more turn and I beat the kid in ghost racing.” Yelena said.

“In your dreams, take this!” I knocked into Mario’s kart which gave me a lead start.

“You little—alright then if it’s dirty you want, it’s dirty you’ll get.” She then suddenly got a power boost and turned on the oil slick trying to get me to slow down and spin out of control.  Unfortunately for her I knew this trick (mom does it to me all the time) so I went up along the walls and sped forward.

“Ahh no way!” she exclaimed as I got in front of her.

“How long have you guys been playing this game?” mom asked us.

“I don’t know what time is it now?” Yelena asked.

“Yes I win!” I stood up and cheered as I was claimed the winner and Yoshi did his little victory dance.

“Noooo!!!!” Yelena cried out as she collapsed along the couch. I copied Yoshi’s dance before turning towards her.

“Told you Yoshi was the best!”

“Well I’m glad to see you’ve been bonding with your aunt while I was shopping.”

Wait what?  I looked at my mom in shock and she nodded.  I turned back to my babysitter who removed the pillow from her face and she once again sung.

“Hi~!”

“You’re my aunt?” I asked.

“Yep.” She said popping the p.

“Wait you didn’t tell her?” mom asked.

“She didn’t ask me if I was her aunt. Plus I thought you told her I was coming.”

“I did.” Mom exclaimed.

“So what did you just—never show a picture of me or something?”

“Wait, wait, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on time out!” I said making the time out sign with my hands.  “If you’re my aunt, then—you’re really fun after all?”

“Who said I wasn’t fun?” she gawked offendedly.

“Well, one of my friends said that aunts are nothing but trouble and are boring, sometimes cranky or always screaming.” Yelena’s mouth dropped and she said.

“I never do anything like that. Plus I am not boring I’m way to talented than that. Did we not just have fun playing the Mario kart game just now?”

“Yeah. But you still lost so that does make you slow.” I laughed.

“Oh yeah?” she suddenly grabbed me and pulled me into her lap as she proceeded to tickle me.  I shrieked and laughed as she taunted me. “Am I slow still? Huh?”

“Stohahap! STOP IHIHIHIHT!!!”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t hear you, I think my old ears might be in the fritz.”

“Alright Yelena that’s enough let her breathe.” My aunt stopped tickling me.

“Not only a poser but you’re a party pooper as well.” She muttered to my mom.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing.” She said louder before looking down at me and winked which made me giggle softly.  “I’m the fun aunt. And that’s what I want to be for you kid. What do you say?”

“I say my bestest friend Michelle was right. Aunts can be fun.”

“Of course, I’m fun, cool, and a total badass.”

“Please don’t swear in front of her Yelena. I’m trying to not teach her bad habits.” Mom said as she began to unpack some of the groceries.

“More like trying to not get me to swear so that uncle Steve doesn’t faint again.” I whispered to her which made her laugh.

“So are any of you gonna help me unpack the groceries or do I have to do everything myself?” mom asked.  I bounced off the couch and trotted over to help her put away some of the lighter stuff while aunt Yelena said she would ‘supervise’ (which basically meant taking a soda and drinking it while mom and I did all the work).

When dinner came around the corner (as promised) I gave my aunt Yelena my broccoli and asparagus to which she whined.

“I thought kids were supposed to forget about bets like that?”

“Not this kid. Now eat up aunt Yelena, it’s good for you mom says so, don’t you mom?”

“Yes indeed. As did our adoptive parents, come on Yelena, you got out of it when you were a kid but you’re not getting out of eating your veggies now.” Mom taunted her.

“Suka.” Yelena muttered under her breath.

“Language.”

“Hey mom can you pass the hot sauce?” I asked.  She reached over for the hot sauce and handed it to me.

“You do hot sauce with your mac and cheese too?” aunt Yelena asked me.

“Oh yeah, I love hot sauce.”

“Respect kid.” She held out her fist and I gave her a fist bump back.  “Maybe I should take you with me and raise you as my daughter. We got like sooo much in common.”

“Like I’d let that happen.” Mom piped in.

“Kidding. You know I wouldn’t do that to you Natasha.” She said before hiding her lips but mouthed off to me before lightly gesturing. ‘You and me, out by morning.’ She gave me another wink before she went back to her broccoli.  “In fact kid give me the hot sauce now, feels like the only thing that can help with this torture. And I’ve been through a lot of torture.”

“No need to scar my daughter for life about your missions and assignments.”

“I don’t know, maybe might have an exciting story to tell her of the places I’ve been, the people I’ve met. What do you say kiddo?”

“I’d like to hear about it. Michelle’s aunt tells her about her trips around the world.”

“Fine but I’m gonna be monitoring the rating of these stories.” Mom said.

“Mom! I’m not 3 years old anymore!” I complained.

“Doesn’t matter how old you get, you’ll always be my little girl. And if I don’t want you exposed to certain things until you’re a certain age, then that’s one of your house rules.”

“Lighten up Natasha, I promise I’ll keep it G rated.” She gave me another wink telling me she’d fill me in on more details after bedtime.

It’s official, I have the coolest aunt in the world and I wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #natasha romanoff #mom!natasha #natasha x reader #black widow #black widow imagine #black widow imagines #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova imagines #yelena belova fanfic #yelena belova fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #mcu oneshot #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel fanfic #marval fandom #marvel fanfiction #mama black widow #natasha romanoff x child reader #natasha fluff #yelena fluff #yelena belova mcu #yelena belova fluff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff imagines

[teddyrizz]

I wrote a quick fluff one-shot. I haven't written in a while so I don't know if it is good or not. I have to practice more. It's kind of bad 💔

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Some silly stuff

By: Teddyrizz

Reader x Loki???

Word count: 7.8k characters

Summary: You and Loki had gotten into an argument weeks prior. He didn't come back but now he was back to apologize.

Tags: Fluff, Some small angst? Reader x Loki, Simple one-shot, idk, short one-shot, My first Reader oneshot💔 Bad writing😞

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Set up: Reader’s bedroom

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A sound of desolate silence filled the room. It felt dreary and empty. The only thing that you could hear was the sound of your light breathing and the mechanical whirring of the ceiling fan. You thought he would come back after a day. You didn't expect that a single fight like all the others could result in days turning into weeks. It was heartbreaking. Not a single word was spoken between you and him after he suddenly vanished. You hoped he would come back.

“Maybe he went back to Asgard to process things.” or “He probably is busy with some issues that arose for him.”

That's what you told yourself. To stop worrying. But you could feel that nagging feeling inside of your chest… Inside of your pounding heart, that wasn't the case. You felt as if he left you on purpose. That he didn't care about you anymore. But that was impossible. He loved you like you were his. He yearned for you whenever you were near him. So what was that nagging feeling about?

You began to simply ignore it. The only thing you felt like doing was turning to see or feel that familiar warmth beside you, hoping to see- No. Wanting, Needing to see that he was there. But alas he wasn't there beside you. You didn't feel his touch. That lingering sensation on your skin wasn't there. The only thing you could feel was the bedding underneath your skin or your pajamas. It hurt your heart and almost broke it.

Why wasn't he there? You needed him. You missed him. It felt like you both were made for each other. Your soul, body, and mind were devoted to him. It was as simple as that. You couldn't understand why he left. He promised to stay. But you knew you couldn't always trust him for his words. As he was always a trickster.

The more you began to imagine all the possibilities of why he left. The more you felt like you were about to cry… And soon you felt your eyes become glassy and soon your heart began to hurt. As the tears began to form, you wished for him, wanting him there to comfort you, you were upset. More than that, you were heartbroken. How could the love of your life do something like this to you?

You wondered that question. Then soon the tears began to flow. You tried to stop it, tried to be mature and handle your emotions but couldn't. It was heart-wrenching for you. You needed him so badly that it made you cry. You kept on crying and crying. For what seemed like an eternity, your eyes were swollen and red. Your lips are swollen. Everything felt as if it were a void.

It felt lonely. You felt isolated. You felt tired. But then, it didn't feel so empty. You heard the light turn of a door knob.

Through your blurred vision, through the tears, you looked to see who it was. It was him. It was Loki. He looked sorrowful. He looked depleted. His eyes widened as he saw you crying. You wanted to shout in anger at him. You wanted to get mad at him. But all you could do was cry. You didn't want to get into another argument with him. Not now.

“Oh Norns… I…”

He said as his words got caught in his throat. You felt your emotions soften as you heard him speak. You haven't heard that tone in a while. That warmth in his voice. His accent. His tender words were like music to your ears… Even if they were so little. You could hear the emotion in his words. You knew then and there he missed you too. It made you feel safe.

He sighed after a few seconds. He didn't know what else to say. He wanted to comfort you and he knew that's what you needed. So he sat next to you. He pulled out his handkerchief from his pocket, gently took your hands, and started to wipe away your tears. Slowly, you could feel your heart calming down and you started to calm down. All the time his thumb rubbed circles and lines into your palms. It was soothing and it made you feel better. Soon he spoke again.

“I am sorry for leaving like that… I never meant to hurt you…”

He looked straight into your eye. You could see regret in them. He felt guilty and ashamed of his actions. He hated the fact that he left you alone like that. He regretted hurting you. But most importantly… You still loved him even though he left you. You still cared. He felt relieved for having you by his side despite everything, he missed you. You still were his… But he just wanted to be with you more. It didn't matter what anyone else thought or how much they hated him.

“Please don't ever do that again.”

You replied. Your voice was slightly shaky but soft. You have calmed down quite a bit now. Though the tears weren't gone, it wouldn't take long until they would be. And that was fine with you. You wanted to forget about your pain. Forget about those stupid fights or about him abandoning you like everyone else in your life did. If anything, you could focus on yourself, not him. It sounded childish in your head, but you liked hearing such a silly idea.

“I promise. I wouldn't ever mean to hurt you. Although I… I act like I have ill intentions, I could never hurt you. Never. I swear…”

His voice trailed off. He didn't know how to put into words how much he cared and how much it bothered him to leave you without any explanation or reason at all. Why had he run off? How could he leave like that without a proper reason? Sure he could come back and tell you about whatever happened, but what was his excuse? He didn't even give you a good explanation for leaving like that. Just an empty, cold note on your nightstand… He couldn't help but feel horrible. And that only intensified when he looked up to see you looking at him. Tears were still in your eyes and you looked heartbroken. He wished that he could take it away for you. He hated seeing you this way.

“God… I'm so sorry… Are you mad at me?”

You were mad. You were hurt. But the feeling that you felt in your chest was stronger than the anger. It was stronger than the pain. You loved him. You were glad that he was here with you.

“I am… But I'm okay… It's just… I love you more than I'm mad at you… Don't disappear like that... Promise me you won't ever go away again.”

Loki smiled, he held your hands in his, and kissed the top of your fingers. He gave you a warm loving smile which you returned.

“I promise. I won't ever leave again… And if I hurt you…”

He paused. He didn't know how to phrase the rest of his words. How to make it sound true to his heart. He sighed softly. His hand reached up to your face, his nimble fingers brushed against the tears in your eyes. He wiped them away and spoke again.

“I swear. I would never hurt you on purpose. I wouldn't hurt you. If I do, I swear to only make you cry. I couldn't ever hurt you. Not on purpose at least… I don't think… Maybe, but that's something different…”

You chuckled lightly. It sounded like he kept repeating what he was saying over and over. But in truth, he wanted to reassure you that he wouldn't ever mean to hurt you. You wiped away more of the tears and nodded before smiling warmly at him.

“I believe you…”

A small soft smile formed across his features. He leaned towards your ear and whispered. It sounded husky. Like he really wanted to whisper to you. A shiver ran through your spine. And it felt pleasant. It made you smile.

“I promise. I will try my best to keep it. I'm here for you. I'm always going to be here. Because I love you…”

And he kissed the tip of your nose softly before pulling away. He stared at you and examined your features. His gaze softened… That soft look in his eyes was always a beautiful sight to see. He leaned towards you and pulled you into a hug. He began to cuddle you and rest his chin against yours. You melted into him and let him hold you close. He kissed the top of your head and hummed softly. He was content. Happy. Contentment was his favorite word to describe how he felt right now. Content. It didn't feel forced or fake. It felt real. There was no pressure or expectation. Just… Contentment.

For what seemed to be an eternity, there was complete silence between you two. Nothing else mattered other than the warmth of each others' bodies in which they were nestled together. Nothing mattered except for that moment in time. When nothing else mattered besides the two of you being together.

#loki #fluff oneshot #mcu oneshot #loki x you #some angst #idk what to tag this as #silly #loki x reader #loki oneshot

[heliads]

Not sure if you write for Namor from MCU, but could you write Namor x Y/N Enemies to Lovers where Y/N is a Greek demigod who helps Namor after washing up injured and Namor pays them back by helping them deal with a monster? They’re enemies bc he still distrusts humans. Could Y/N also be a child of Hecate please?

had not seen wakanda forever but this request is so good that i specifically sought it out for you, anon. a+ job

masterlist

At this point, the man washing up on the shores of the sea isn’t even the strangest thing you’ve seen all day. Nor is he your chief concern. Normally, the boundary spells up around your city would keep out any intruders, unconscious men who might be soldiers be damned, but the boundary spells haven’t been working well as of late. That’s kind of why you’re here. 

You consider him for a while, his unmoving form, the weapons at his sides still softly clinking as the rolling surf pulls them together, then decide that this is so not your problem and leave. Men destroy themselves all the time. This one, although stranger than most, will either be able to sort himself out when he wakes or be far beyond the reach of your help.

This sort of sentiment would strike many as unkind, but to you, it is nothing uncommon. This is survival. It has never been pretty. It works as well as you let it, and one moment of mercy can spell your death in a second. Right now, you’re not just responsible for yourself, but your entire civilization as well. 

If you ask most scholars and historical enthusiasts, they’ll tell you that the lost city of Atlantis is a myth. Nothing real, just a bunch of old stories all tied together into one perplexing knot. The world loves disasters. The idea of a highly advanced Ancient Greek society sinking beneath the waves, all that knowledge and power gone forever, is highly corruptive. Some people spend their entire lives hunting down rabbit holes and paper trails to see if they could be the one to track it down, but in the end, no one actually wants to find Atlantis. The allure is in the impossibility.

You suppose that’s why they never managed it. Atlantis is somewhere out there, ripe for discovery, just as so many thrillseekers have envisioned. The only problem is that its inhabitants have absolutely no desire to be found, so no one has found it. You would know, you live there. In fact, you have lived there for a very long time. Not as long as the oldest; some of you have died by now, others have left, and many have been forgotten, but the stories of what it was like before you cut yourselves off from the world have been passed down for centuries, and you’ve heard and told most all of them.

The Atlantaens were in danger, that’s why you left the ancient world in the first place. Many scoff at the idea of the Ancient Greek pantheon today; so many gods and heroes and monsters, none of them kind, all of them doomed. We love to laugh at that which we do not understand, but the gods laugh at us for not believing, and then they damn us with curses and agents of destruction. The gods are real, all of them, and they do not take kindly to insults.

Over the course of time, while the Aegean Sea was settled and fought over, a certain kind of people tended to drift towards Atlantis. At first, the progression of its society was slow, but as rumors grew of its inhabitants, those who found they had more in common with the Atlantaens than their own people left their homes to find a true one. 

To put it plainly, Atlantis was home to the demigods, the ones chosen by the Fates for a higher purpose. Many Greeks went their whole lives without being called upon the gods. Others couldn’t have a good night’s sleep without being plagued by visions of future quests in their dreams. So much immortal attention attracted the ire of the Athenians, the Spartans, everyone. Out of fear for their lives and a desire for more, those of you touched by the Olympians went to Atlantis, and once there, you never wanted to leave.

For a while, this progression was fine. No one bothered you on Atlantis because they weren’t stupid enough to try and attack an island full of half-gods and heroes. During difficult times, though, when harvests weren’t bountiful and water supplies grew dry, it was easier for outsiders to blame the island of outcasts than their own city-states. Thieves started sneaking onto Atlantis, burning your crops before vanishing under the cover of night. Prized possessions went missing. Families were hurt.

Without a definable cause, infighting erupted between demigods. Old angers between godly parents renewed themselves among their children. Poseidon’s children swore destruction on Athena’s chosen scholars. Ares’ soldiers spit at the feet of any tinkerer of Hephaestus who crossed their path.

Eventually, it became clear to the island leaders that drastic changes had to be made before the island tore itself apart. The demigods never attacked each other before things started turning sour, so the enemy was obviously the outsiders. To solve the crisis, the strongest of the demigods turned to the gods for help, and for once, they answered. Atlantis was cast away from the rest of the city-states, veiled from mortal eyes and dragged further into the Mediterranean Sea. You still had all the resources you needed from your island, you just weren’t hurt by the mortals.

Thus life carried on for centuries. Your art and achievements continued to expand at a breakneck pace. You lived longer, accomplished more. The gods smiled upon you. Your island was huge, your society could flourish without being impeded by the limits of your land. It became clear that the bad times had ended.

Or, they had, and then the first monster showed up. Without constant invaders, the art of fighting had somewhat fallen out of fashion. Ares’ descendants would never allow it to die completely, but it had become almost archaic. The monster was eventually slain, but it sparked fear into the hearts of the Atlantaens, and made everyone realize that they weren’t invulnerable.

The people of Atlantis responded in two separate ways. Some flung themselves before their temples, praying to the gods to deliver them again. They waited in their homes for an inevitable second attack, shaking and scared. Others, like you, realized that the only ones who would save you would be yourselves. The gods respond to insult; they removed Atlantis from the mortals because their offerings were constantly raided. One monster on an island of many is not worth their concern. It is up to you to protect your people.

You have two ways of saving your island. One is through the sword. The other is with your spells. Your mother, Hecate, often visits her children in dreams to instruct them in the magical arts. You’ve learned many spells and incantations, and they’ve come in handy as more and more monsters appear. You can only hope that they will be enough to continue the defense of the island. It seems as if the attacks will never end.

And, chillingly, perhaps they never will. You and your fellow demigods, the ones that decided to fight back instead of waiting for a salvation that will never come, have made a plan to save yourselves. Part of that involves regular patrols and expeditions to the outermost reaches of the island to kill any monster that crosses your path. You have enchanted swords at the ready, plus half a dozen defensive spells burning under your fingertips. This is not the time at which you die. 

You have enjoyed many patrols over the past few years, but today, your veins are thrumming with adrenaline even more than at the start. You know something is out there. A couple of farmers turned up with bloody livestock, scared of something poaching their animals. Scales and talons have been found. If you’re right— and let’s be honest, you really don’t want to be— you’ve got a Hydra on your hands. 

That’s bad news. The monsters were small at the start; a lesser scourge here and there, a malevolent spirit, and then they got bigger. A harpy. A medium sized giant. If you’re getting hydras— well, maybe you’ll have to make some good offerings to the gods in addition to your regular training. Some divine protection couldn’t hurt at a time like this. 

That’s why you can’t afford to worry about a man passed out on your shores, not yet. Yes, he is a problem, a definitive sign that the godly interference that should be protecting Atlantis has started to slacken, but you can deal with him after you kill the hydra that’s after both of you. Always the monster you know, right? Or the monster you know is lurking in the undergrowth, ready to slaughter you and your entire island. 

You had planned on coming back for the guy, sure, but maybe his unconscious body doesn’t believe that, because you’ve hardly taken ten steps past his fallen form when he suddenly jerks to life. It’s like reanimating a corpse, how he moves; from nothing to everything all at once. His eyes go wide, and he gasps desperately for air, one hand reaching to his throat. Strangely enough, he doesn’t choke out water, but blood, a few scarlet mouthfuls before he lies on his back once more, twitching into stillness. 

You peer back over at him. Not dead yet, his chest still rises and falls with desperate breaths. It would be smart to carry on your path and only check in with this man when you’re sure a monster won’t lunge at you out of the surrounding trees the second you turn your back, but he’s spotted you already. One hand reaches out towards you, trembling, from where he lies in the surf.

He starts to open his mouth, and you silently prepare yourself for some sort of desperate plea, a call for aid. Instead, you’re surprised when all the man says is, “Were you really going to leave me to die here?”

You blink at him. “I thought you were already dead.”

He has the audacity to frown at you. “I would have died if I needed help and you didn’t provide it.”

You can’t believe he’s washed up on your island– you know, the unfindable one– and has the nerve to question your hospitality. “Same difference.”

“Not to me,” he harrumphes, and starts to sit up. So he really isn’t dead. If he isn’t dying, though, that means it actually is your duty to help him. You’re more of a soldier than a nurse, so he’d better not have any broken limbs. Seeing as you really have no choice, you bite back a bitter groan and help him at last. He eyes you distrustfully, but lets you drag him farther from the tide. You had intended to prop him up against a tree or something, but he protests when he gets too far from the water, so you settle for a smooth boulder close enough to the surf that the waves still crash over his feet.

Strangely enough, the water seems to be helping him heal. You can see the ghosts of scars criss crossing his chest, but they don’t appear to be old wounds. Instead, they might be recent. 

You squint at him. “Do you have enhanced healing?”

“And strength,” he adds. “I wouldn’t recommend trying to kill me. You would die before you got the chance.”

If this is how strangers act when you try to help them, you’re not surprised that the ancient Atlantaens asked the gods to cordon off their island. “I could tell you the same thing. Keep your hands where I can see them.”

He regards you for a second. “Why should I do what you tell me? I don’t bow to strangers.”

“Neither do I,” you force out through gritted teeth, “and right now, you’re on my land, so I suggest you learn to scrape at least a little bit.”

He narrows his eyes. The salty sea air blows his dark hair against his face, revealing more of the ornate jewelry around his neck. It looks ancient, perhaps even as old as your society. Although you’d like nothing more than for him to hurry off of Atlantis, you can’t help your curiosity and open your mouth to ask about it.

You’re cut off before you get the chance. The man doubles over all of a sudden, hands flying to his throat once more. Now that you’ve moved him farther away from the ocean, you have a better look at his wounds, and although they’re healing quickly, they look severe. Severe enough to kill him even with advanced health.

Swearing, you raise your hands and begin chanting. Healing spells have become increasingly useful as of late; Hecate’s children learn at least one before they're even knee height, and you’ve had plenty of chances to practice these sorts of incantations thanks to the sudden surge of monster attacks.

Tendrils of magic fly from your hands and wrap around the man. The spells target the injuries across his chest, his heart, his throat, and strangely enough, a few fly down to one of his ankles, repairing a set of wings above his feet. You chant until your throat goes hoarse, until he stops choking, until his breathing settles. Only then do you lower your hands, and wait there in terrible transience, waiting for him to say something.

At last, slowly, incredulously, he does. “What did you do?”

“I saved your life,” you say.

He nods. “I know. With magic?”

You incline your head. He ponders this for a moment longer, then extends a hand towards you. “My name is Namor.”

You stare at his outstretched palm, then take it. “I’m Y/N. Welcome to Atlantis.”

He doesn’t believe you at first. It appears that the rumors of Atlantis’ disappearance are more widespread than you thought if they’ve managed to reach an underwater Mesoamerican city across the world. Namor believes you soon enough, though, especially when he’s gathered his strength enough for you to lead him up a rocky cliff so he can see the majesty of your island sprawling out before him. 

The sight stuns even you, with your years of remembering it, so you’re pleased to see that Namor looks appropriately stupefied. Atlantis is a marvel; crisscrossing colonnades, magnificent gardens, marble roofs shining in the sun, temples to so many gods and goddesses that even you can’t remember them all. Children run laughing in the streets, and their parents chastise them or smile at the fun they’re having. A flock of university students chatter on their way to class. Soldiers practice in an open training yard, and the clash of bronze echoes such that you can hear it even here, on the very outskirts of the island.

“This is your home?” He asks.

You smile. “It is.”

“Why were you all the way out here, then?” Namor queries, “If not looking for dying men to ignore?”

You roll your eyes. “I saved you eventually, didn’t I?”

He laughs. “Only when I asked you to. Some would call that heartless.”

You arch a brow. “Would you?”

He takes a step closer to you. “No,” he says at last, “I don’t think I would.”

You breathe out evenly and then, to hide the sudden pressure between your ribs, change the subject. “How did you come here, Namor? Our island is under enchantment to hide us from the rest of the world. You never should have been able to come here, especially not since it’s so far from where you were.”

Namor sighs. “I don’t know. I was returning home with my people after a truce with the Wakandans. We were attacked on the way by something, some sort of monster. I don’t know what it was. We managed to kill it, but while I was leading it away from our home, it struck me through the chest. I must have lost consciousness after I struck the killing blow, and then I woke up here.”

This makes worry tie up your stomach in tight knots. “A monster?”

You look back towards your shining city. Everyone seems to be happy and carefree right now, but if your monsters are cropping up in other parts of the world– if you cannot protect yourselves, not even if you had to run from Atlantis– there is no telling how long any of you could survive, especially not if the monsters keep getting bigger.

Namor lays a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Is everything alright, Y/N?”

“No,” you say firmly, “It’s not. Our peace has been shattered as of late. More and more monsters show up on our borders. I was out here to find another one that’s been spotted recently, a hydra. Even if I kill this one, though, it’ll be replaced by two more the next day. They never stop coming.”

The look in Namor’s eyes is soft, understanding. He knows what it’s like to feel as if you cannot keep your own people safe. “I will seek out this hydra with you. I have to go back to Talokan soon, but you have my word to return whenever you need help.”

You regard him questioningly. “Why would you make such a promise? We only just met.”

He lifts a shoulder. “You saved my life, I owe you a debt. Besides, we only have so many places free of humans left in the world. We should protect each other when we can.”

You smile, then decide to tease him a little more. “You know I’m half human, right?”

He feigns disgust. “I will only help half of your city, then.”

You laugh. “And kill half the hydra? That’s ridiculous.”

“No more than someone only being half immortal,” he points out. “How does that even work?”

You grin. “I try not to think about it.”

He matches your pleased expression. “Then I won’t, either.”

And so your daily patrol is joined by a feathered serpent god. The two of you stalk silently through the forests on the outskirts of Atlantis, marking signs of heavy travel. Intent on your prey, you manage to locate it with a combination of your spells and his experience. Killing the hydra is difficult, obviously; Tartarus does not make its monsters without wanting them to be impervious to most attacks, but when the dust settles, both of you are still alive and without too much damage. The same cannot be said for the dead monster, so a win’s a win.

The two of you stand there for a moment longer, weapons in hand, and then Namor slowly, remorsefully lifts his gaze from the dead hydra to look at you. “It’s time for me to go,” he says softly, “Talokan will be expecting me. They will wonder why I have not returned. I cannot afford for them to attack Wakanda again out of some nonexistent threat to their leader.”

“I understand,” you reply. You don’t like it, though. Not nearly as much as you would have liked it when you first found him on your shores.

“I should go,” he repeats, but his weapons are gone from his hands and he’s striding towards you, closing the distance in a breath, kissing you.

“You should go,” you tell him, but his hands are on your hips and you don’t want him to let go, not now, and certainly not to a city across the sea.

“I should–” Namor begins, but you interrupt him to kiss him again. His fingers curl against your sides, and you know for certain that he wants to leave just about as you want him to.

He does force himself away eventually. Both of you understand that there is and will always be something greater than the two of you at stake. Neither of you are just a person, just a god; the fate of your homes is far more pressing than any personal want. Still, when you walk back with him to the ocean and watch him disappear beneath the glimmering blue of the waves, you know that you’ll regret every lost moment.

Still, there is hope that you might see him again. He told you how to find Talokan, and Namor is familiar with Atlantis now. You could find each other again, frame it as a need for your countries to have diplomatic relations. You could be happy again. It might take time, but it could happen. You, for one, will be counting down the days until then.

marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy

all tags list: @wordsarelife

#namor #namor imagines #namor x reader #namor oneshot #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #marvel oneshot #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu x reader #mcu oneshot #marvel namor #marvel namor imagines #marvel namor x reader #marvel namor oneshot #kukulkan #kukulkan imagines #kukulkan x reader #kukulkan oneshot

[eatmyscepter]

What the hell?

pairing: jack russell x gn!reader

words: 2,349

tags/warnings: fluff, first meetings, teeny bit of angst, jack being the sweetest ever, reader is a monster hunter, jack is probably ooc for most of it but it’s fine lol, kinda erased elsa from being a big part of the story sorry :(

summary: You are a monster hunter, a quite good one, and you’re invited to Ulysses Bloodstones funeral. There, you and a few other hunters compete for the ultimate prize; the Bloodstone. At this twisted funeral, you meet Jack, another hunter. But, something about him is different than the other hunters.

also on ao3

Okay, let’s get this straight. You weren’t like all the rest of these monster hunters - greedy, vile, and power-seeking. No, no. But you could be if you had to be.

A lot of people have underestimated you and your abilities. Frankly, they were all wrong to assume. You always got the job done, when you had to.

Also, let’s get one more thing straight. You didn’t necessarily want the Bloodstone. You were invited to the funeral of Ulysses Bloodstone, a dramatic and powerful hunter. During the funeral, you learned that you and all of the other hunters here would be competing for the red stone. Interesting.

Really, the only reason you even came was because you wanted to keep the Bloodstone out of the hands of these maniacs. Sure, you could argue everyone in this field was a maniac, but you swore you were different. I mean, you were raised and trained to do this. What else were you supposed to do with your life?

After the speech made by the lifeless, but animated, corpse of the deceased Bloodstone, you and the rest of the hunters got out of your seats, ready to follow Verussa to the gardens. As you stood up, you looked around, trying to observe who you were up against.

Your eyes scanned the small crowd and landed on a short man, with white paint consisting of dots and lines coating the perimeter of his face. He seemed to be nervous, a bit of sweat on his forehead. He didn’t seem like he could be a hunter. He didn’t seem like the rest of these people. But to be fair neither did you, yet you have killed many monsters. You then remembered Verussa saying he had killed over a hundred monsters. Hm.

With furrowed brows, you walked over to the man. As you got closer, he looked surprised, but tried to mask it.

“So over a hundred kills, huh? That’s impressive.” The man lifted his brows, in confusion. You continued, “I’m just surprised since you don’t really look like the type to kill.. anything.” You laughed.

He smiled in reply. Then he said, “Ah, well who does look the type?” Your eyes lit up in amusement.

“Ha, you’re funny. I’m Y/N. And who are you exactly?” You asked, smirking.

“My name is Jack. Jack Russell.” He said as he started to hold his hand out for you.

You tried to hold in laughter, but failed. “Jack? Russell? Like the dog?”

Jack chuckled in reply to your questioning. “Sadly, yes.”

A silence fell on the two of you, as the laughter died down. Jack tried to think of something to say, but couldn’t. He looked up at your face. You too had paint markings on your face. Your paint was definitely different than his though; you had light blue paint curved under your eyes and cheeks. It looked absolutely beautiful with your skin tone.

“The paint on your face, is that a family thing? I’m only wondering because mine is..” Jack asked, genuinely curious.

“No, it’s not. I just think it looks kinda cool.” Jack laughed at that.

The two of you stood there for a few more seconds, smiling at each other. Both of your heads perked up when you heard Verussa telling the crowd to follow her.

“We should get going..” Jack trailed off. You nodded in agreement and the two of you started walking, following the rest of the hunters.

Eventually, you got to the entrance of the gardens. There was a table with candles and an open skull on it. Verussa directed all of you to take something out of the skull. You went second to last, a man with dark lines of paint across his face going right after you.

The older, bigger man looked over at Jacks palm and said, “Lucky bastard.” You were confused at this, but soon figured out what it meant when Verussa explained that Jack gets to go in first.

You then looked over at Jack, him looking back at you soon after. You sent an awkward smile his way, to comfort him. But, why? You guys are competing for the Bloodstone. And hell, he might even try to kill you to get it. Why were you wanting to comfort him?

You felt less foolish when he sent a smile back your way.

Jack turned around and walked away from you and the rest of the hunters to enter the gardens.

A little while later, you were able to enter the chaos filled grounds. You were a little nervous, but decided that wouldn’t be of any help and pushed the feeling down.

You advanced in the broken down gardens, trying to be as quiet as possible. You were more nervous about the hunters than the monster. Plus, the monster was weakened by the stone. However, the hunters were strengthened with the idea of calling the powerful stone theirs.

As you continued to walk slowly and cautiously around the place, you heard a noise coming from the bushes around the corner. You carefully peeked around the tall bush and saw.. Jack talking to the bush?

“What the hell are you doing?” You whispered, but still trying to get the effect of yelling.

Jack whipped around, obviously startled by your intrusion. He looked around before grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him.

As you were inches away from him, he looked at you and said in a hushed voice, “This is going to sound crazy, I know, but the monster that they have here is my friend. I’m trying to rescue him.” He said as he pulled back the leaves in the way and revealed a huge, swamp-like monster sitting in there.

You gasped, but as you started to talk, Jack covered your mouth with his hand. You furrowed your eyes in confusion. What the hell was happening?

Once he trusted you calmed down, he released his hand from covering your mouth. You smacked him on the shoulder in response.

“What the hell?! So,” you paused, “so are you even a monster hunter? How did you even get invited here?” You asked him.

“I am.. kind of.. a monster hunter.” He replied, not feeling like going in depth with any answers.

You shook your head in disbelief.

The noise of someone running in your general direction made you and Jack freeze. You stood there, wondering who it was. After a few seconds, you saw the hunter with the all white outfit pausing to look at the pair of you and the start sprinting toward you.

Jack tried to get the leaves on the bush to go back, to hide the monster. Then he grabbed your hand, beginning to run away from the tall hunter.

As you two were running, Jack spotted a small building in one of the sections of the garden. Jack let go of your hand, to open the door, and ushered you into the room. The hunter chairing you wasn’t far behind, so Jack slammed the door.

Right as he did he heard a voice that was definitely not yours say, “..door! ugh!” He turned around, wondering who it was.

Elsa Bloodstone.

You walked closer to the door, trying to get it open. Locked. Great.

You too turned toward Elsa, curious to what she was doing in here. Your eyes scanned her body, and when they got to her legs you noticed she was bleeding quite badly.

Apparently, Jack was doing the same as you. Right before you were going to say something he blurted out, “You’re hurt. Can I help you?”

Elsa put her hands up in defence, “No!”

“Okay..” Jack said, turning towards you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, concern laced in his voice.

You nodded at him, a soft smile on your lips. He smiled and nodded back.

The three of you stood, and sat, in silence. Uncomfortable silence. No offense to them, but you didn’t exactly want to be stuck in a room full of dead Bloodstones.

“Okay, how do we get out of here? Is there a key, axe, anything?” Jack suggested.

“Not that I’ve seen.” Elsa replied, annoyed already.

You sigh, stretching, before sitting on the dirty ground. Jack walks closer to you, doing a twirl before sitting next to you.

You look over at the man. He looks tired. You’re positive you do as well.

“So,” you start, “you and the monster are friends. How does that even happen?”

Jack smiles at your question.

“Uh, it is kind of a long story. And I can’t really tell it, right now.” He states, not wanting to tell you about himself yet.

“Oh, okay.” You say, kind of disappointed. You were extremely curious on how a man and a.. thing.. like that could be friends.

Elsa interrupted your thoughts by climbing up the pile of coffins. You and Jack looked at each other, confused by her actions.

“What are you doing?” Jack questioned.

“My dad used to tell me stories about my crazy Aunt. She was positive she would come back from the dead. And when she did,” Elsa paused her story to beat the glass from the coffin. She reached her hand in the home of her dead Aunt and grabbed anything she could find. Eventually she found something of use. Keys.

Elsa continued, showing the keys to the two of you, “she would need an escape plan.”

You smiled at her, jumping up and down in child-like excitement. Jack smiled a little as well.

Elsa climbed down from her families resting places and landed firmly on the ground. She walked over to the door and unlocked it. You turned to Jack and held your hand up, for a high five. He smirked and returned it.

The three of you stood outside of the tomb and started to make up the plan. While inside, Jack stated he didn’t want the Bloodstone. He proposed that if Elsa could help him get the monster free from this mess, he would gladly give her the stone that ran in her family. You should’ve been offended that you would get nothing from this endeavor, but you just wanted to go home and take a long, hot bath. With bubbles of course!

You guys decided that Elsa would go get Ted, while you and Jack try to explode the wall with a tiny bomb Jack had, for some reason.

As Jack was going over how to turn the bomb on with Elsa, he accidentally twisted it, causing the bomb to start beeping.

The three of you looked at each other and then scattered off, starting the plan a bit earlier than expected.

You and Jack ran off to the opposite of where Elsa was headed. You two were running towards the edge of the gardens, so when you place the bomb on the wall, Ted could run into the woods.

You finally got to your destination. Jack ran closer to the wall than you, since he was the one with the tiny bomb. He threw it at the wall and ran behind a big rock. The bomb landed in the grass.

“Shit!” Jack exclaimed.

He tried that several more times before you told him to put it in the crack that was running along the rock wall. He listened to you and as the bomb was about to go off, he grabbed your forearm and pulled you down with him, toward the large rock.

When the rock wall exploded, Ted and Elsa came running towards you. You looked politely at Ted, not wanting to make the monster mad in any way, and then nodded at Elsa.

Ted continued to walk past you and Jack, towards the opening in the wall.

Elsa spun a dark laso-type thing and screamed, “Wait!” The rope grabbed onto the Bloodstone secured on Teds back. Elsa pulled until it jumped off of the monster. Ted continued to run away.

You looked over at Jack, him beaming at everyone’s success. You grinned at the short man and turned to Elsa, surprised to she the bitter woman smiling ear-to-ear as well.

Jack walked past you and over to the stone, wanting to grab it and hand it over to Elsa since their deal was complete.

Just as Jack grabbed the red, glowing stone, it pushed him back. His body impacted the floor with a loud noise and then you heard groaning.

You and Elsa shared a glance of confusion before you ran over to Jack. You squatted down next to his injured form.

“Hey, what happened? Are you okay? Jack?” You questioned the man holding his own arms, but you only got a groan out of him.

A few other hunters ran over to the sight, and stood there, wondering what had happened.

Verussa soon followed after them, some people that worked for her coming very close after.

“Well, well..” she started, “look at this.”

Jack continued to groan in discomfort.

“The Bloodstone did this to you?” Verussa laughed.

“He grabbed it.” The tall hunter, dressed in all white said. “It threw him back.”

Verussa turned her head back to Jack, and you on the ground next to him.

“My word..” She trailed off.

Jack looked up at you in panic. You nodded your head as a way to assure him that he would be okay.

“A monster. Masquerading as one of our own.” The older woman stated.

Your eyes grew in shock. Jack? A monster? It was hard believing he was a hunter.. but a monster? That couldn’t possibly be correct.

You looked down at the man laying on the floor and raised your brows, silently asking if what she was saying was true. He looked away from your eyes.

So it is true. Jack is a monster.

Verussa walker closer to the two of you and yelled, “Desecrating our sacred night!”

Someone that worked for the woman walked closer behind you two and zapped Jack with a large taser. He yelled in pain and fear. The same person zapped you and Elsa as well.

What the hell just happened?!

notes: okay so i was planning on this only being one part but im tired and lazy, so this is gonna be two parts instead. if you enjoyed, please reblog and like! ill try to start and post the next part by the end of the week! 🫂

#jack russell #jack russell x reader #werewolf by night #elsa bloodstone #mcu oneshot #marvel one shot #moon knight #gender neutral reader #fluff #first meeting #werewolf #werewolf fanfiction #monster hunter #gael garcia bernal

[marie-swriting]

First-Second Date - Kate Bishop

Marvel Masterlist

Summary : You're at a Café waiting for Kate to show up to your first date.

Warnings : being stood up, misunderstanding, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 1.9k

French version

Prompt : "B accidentally writes the wrong day down for their date, which inevitably causes them to unintentionally stand A up" 5th prompt from this prompt list made by @novelbear

Seated at a table in the Café near your University, you’re waiting for Kate. You met her at the beginning of your University year and got along instantly. Your feelings have quickly become romantic so after months of hesitation, you finally decided to ask her out on a date for the next Saturday. You were afraid she’d refuse at first in case she would only think of you as a friend, that's why you asked her by text. Kate had taken a few minutes to answer, too stunned to know you were attracted to her. When you received her positive response, you were filled with an intense joy. Now, it’s an intense anxiety that’s controlling your body. You arrived a bit earlier, too excited to hang out with Kate. Before leaving your place, you had sent her a message. 

Text from you to Kate, 2:40 P.M. : 

Are we still on for this afternoon ? 🥰

You still haven’t gotten a reply, but you reassure yourself by thinking she must be getting ready so she hasn’t had the time to check her phone yet. You just hope she’s going to text back as soon as she’s on her way, like this you’ll finally be able to relax. However, when ten minutes have passed since the time you had planned for your date, your stress gets a bit bigger. You wait five more minutes before taking your phone and texting her.

Text from you to Kate, 3:15 P.M. : 

Hey, just wanted to know if you were on your way, we were supposed to meet at 3 🙂

You look at your phone for a few minutes but no answer is coming. You end up locking it up and ordering a refreshing drink, hoping it’ll help you to calm your nerves. Yet, when Kate is thirty minutes late, your worry is stronger. You start overthinking. You try to come up with every reason as to why she’d be late : maybe she hasn’t seen the time, maybe something more or less serious has happened or maybe she won’t come because she hadn’t dared to refuse your date. You strongly hope it’s not the latter. No, it can’t be the last option. You have been close with Kate since the day you met, you consider her as one of your best friends, she can’t not come on your date. Kate isn’t like that. Or is she ? You try to chase away those negative thoughts from your mind and with reluctance, you call her. You know you risk being categorised as the annoying girl but your worry is too strong to help you chill. Without any big surprise, Kate doesn’t answer. When the beep ending her voice message rings, you clear your throat.

“Hey, Kate, it’s me, Y/N. Huh, it’s almost 3:40 and you’re still not here and, huh, I got no response to my texts either,” you start, playing with the napkin from your table, “I just wanted to check if everything was okay. I’m still gonna wait for a bit, in case you’re simply late. But, huh, tell me if you want to reschedule. Call me back when you get this message,” you continue before waiting a few seconds, “See you.”

You hang up and put your phone down on the table. You finish your drink in one gulp before checking an umpteenth time at the Café’s entrance. In spite of yourself, every five minutes you look at your phone. You even turned it off and on, thinking maybe your phone wasn’t working correctly. It wasn’t the reason. Kate hasn’t just replied to you. Slowly, your anxiety turns into anger. It had taken you months to muster up your courage and ask her out, you were waiting for that moment impatiently. Now, you think you shouldn’t have asked her. Not only are you getting humiliated in public for almost an hour now but you’ve also lost a precious friendship. Fed up, you pay for your drink and leave the place without wasting any second. On the way, you call Kate one last time, in case she’d feel remorse and want to meet you. When her voicemail begins, you can’t help but sigh in frustration.

“Kate, it’s me, the girl you had a date with today.” you state, coldly, “I waited for you a whole hour and clearly you’re not about to show up so I left. You know, if you really didn’t want to come, you could just have told me ‘no’ instead of ignoring me and standing me up.” you finish, before hanging up mad.

You trot to your University bedroom, fists clenched. You can’t believe Kate did that to you. You would have never thought she’d be the kind of person to be disrespectful. It seems like you don’t know her as much as you thought. 

During the whole night, you try to cool down by taking a shower, watching a TV-show and even spamming your best friend with messages to externalise all your emotions. What angers you the most is Kate’s silence. Usually, she replies to you in a few minutes, except when she has her training. However, she never does it after ten P.M., she could have answered you a long time ago. With difficulties, you finally fall asleep, not without checking your phone one last time. 

When Monday comes, you go to class with one goal in mind : avoiding Kate as much as possible. After the silent treatment she’s been giving you, you ended up thinking she deleted your number and even blocked it. You thought your goal would be easy to achieve because Kate would still be ignoring you but she has actually tried to talk to you several times. Still mad at Kate, you go in the opposite direction as soon as you see her, even if it extends your way.

After two days of avoiding her like the plague, a small part of you wants to confront her to know the reason for her absence. This part started being too loud when your anger vanished away to leave the room for your inability to understand the situation. Besides, you’ve noticed Kate still tries to come to you, despite your silence. If she’s so eager to talk to you, maybe she had a good reason ? If so, why hasn't she still replied to your texts ? 

You keep wondering why Kate is acting that way, not paying attention to what’s surrounding you while you’re walking to your bedroom. Suddenly, an obstacle is in front of you. Snapping out of your thoughts, you find Kate with an awkward smile on her face. 

“Hey,” she starts but you stay silent, “is it me or have you been ignoring me since this Monday ? Are you mad ?”

“No, come on, why would I even be mad ?” you ask, ironically.

“Given the tone of your voice, I’m pretty sure you’re mad. What happened ? Did I do something I wasn’t supposed to ?” she questions, frowning. 

You’re about to give her a piece of your mind when her telephone ringing cuts you off. You sigh in disbelief. Kate rapidly takes out her phone and hangs up without looking at the caller ID. Watching her do that, you wonder if it’s what she did last Saturday.

“Sorry.” Kate says, putting her phone away.

“Oh, so it does work !” you state with a fake surprised tone.

“What ?”

“Oh, nothing. For a moment I thought your phone wasn’t working anymore.”

“Yeah, about that,” she starts, confused, “I wanted to tell you about it. Could you give me your phone number again ? I lost it.”

“Lost it or deleted it ?”

“Ok, I’ve definitely missed some information here.”

“Well, when you don’t check your phone, that’s what usually happens.”

“I had some problems with my phone,” Kate explains, making your eyes roll. “It fell down while I was crosswalking and a car drove over it just after. I had to change it and buy a new SIM Card.”

“So that’s why you couldn’t come Saturday ?” you continue, coldly.

“Saturday ?”

“Don’t play stupid ! Our date, Kate. We were supposed to meet on Saturday and I waited for you for a whole hour, like an idiot.”

“What ?”, she exclaims before thinking for a second, “but we were supposed to meet next Saturday so the one that’s coming ! I even wrote it down on Google Agenda,” Kate adds before showing you her phone, “look !”

“No, we were supposed to see each other last Saturday but you would have known it if you had checked your phone.”

“Y/N, I promise you I’m not lying when I tell you I broke my phone.”

Noticing Kate keeps insisting, you start doubting. Maybe her story was true and everything was a big misinterpretation. Maybe she didn’t stand you up intentionally. 

“It happened last Friday that’s why I couldn’t get your text.”, she specifies, “I swear it to you ! I would have never stood you up. I’m excited about our date. I mean, I was excited, I guess.” Kate corrects herself, thinking about it for a second, “I genuinely believed it was this Saturday, the one that’s coming and I’ve been trying to talk to you the past few days to get your number’s back as I lost it. Everything is a misunderstanding ! Tell me when you’re available, we’ll do our date as soon as possible and promise, this time I’ll write it down correctly and I will be there.”

“So you’re telling the truth ?” you checked again, sceptical. 

“I’d be willing to call my mom at this very minute to prove it to you, even if she has an important meeting.”

You take a few seconds to think about the new information. In the end, for you, her story seems closer to the Kate you know rather than the one who didn’t show up for your date. After all, even if Kate is precise when she’s holding a bow and arrows, the rest of the time, she’s quite clumsy. In addition to Kate’s voice, you could tell she was being genuine.

“I believe you.” you end up saying.

“Sorry for not showing up, no matter if it was accidental or not.”

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. I just like you a lot and I was so excited about our date and stressed, too. I was afraid my feelings were unrequited and you only said ‘yes’ because you had pity for me so when I wasn’t seeing you coming, I thought you were ignoring me, deliberately. I thought you didn’t care about me.”

“No, I promise you it’s not that, Y/N”, Kate refutes putting her hand on your forearm. “I meant it when I accepted your date, I care about you. I feel bad knowing you thought I had bad intentions when I actually was waiting for that moment since the day we met.”

“It’s not your fault. I know it now. I should have talked to you Monday instead of ignoring you.” you repeat, feeling guilty for jumping into conclusions.

“You had every right to be mad. You didn’t know what happened.” she reassures you. “So, we’re still on for that first-second date ? You still want us to go to one ?”

“If you promise to not do something similar a second time then yes”, you laugh.

“I wasn’t planning on it.”, Kate answers chuckling, “What if we didn’t wait ?”, she suddenly asks, “I mean, we don’t have any more classes, we’re together, we might as well go to that Café now, don’t you think ?”

“I’d love to.” you smile.

Kate’s lips take the shape of an idiotic smile when she feels your hand in hers. She tightens her grips while you’re guiding her to the Café. You’re both full of joy, you’re finally able to go on your first-second date.

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If you’re wondering where Shoot Me Down and other one shots have gone, please read this post.

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