#Enhanced!reader

[purifiedclitoris69]

Cool Off

Natasha Romanoff x Enhanced!Reader

Summary: A hot-headed, cocky pyrokinetic Avenger struggles to control their powers—and the growing tension with Natasha Romanoff.

You weren’t born a hero. Hell, you’re still not sure you want to be one. But somewhere between the burning buildings and the broken bones, you became something they couldn’t ignore.

Your powers showed up early—violent, untamed, and triggered by rage. One minute you were a kid being cornered by people who thought they could hurt you, the next you were standing in the middle of an inferno, untouched, heart pounding, hands still glowing. You didn’t cry. You didn’t apologize. You liked the power.

As you grew, so did the fire. So did the attitude. You learned to own it—your temper, your heat, the way flames lick at your skin like they know you. People called you dangerous, reckless, impulsive. You called it survival. Eventually, you stopped flinching when they whispered “monster.” You started smirking instead.

Now you’re the walking wildfire of the team—hot-headed, loud-mouthed, and impossible to ignore. You talk big because you can back it up. No one wants to spar with you in the training room. You’ve melted more than one combat dummy and set off multiple fire alarms just breathing too hard.

And yeah, you’re cocky. Arrogant, even. But beneath the fire and the biting sarcasm, there’s something else. A need to protect. A need to matter. You’ll never admit it out loud, but these people—this dysfunctional team of weirdos and warriors—they’re the closest thing you’ve ever had to a family.

You’d burn the world down for them.

All they had to do was light the match.

Being part of the Avengers means being part of a dysfunctional family—emphasis on dysfunction. You’re the chaos in the calm, the match everyone forgot was lit until the whole room’s up in smoke. The team keeps calling you a “loose cannon”, which is ironic considering you’re also the one they call when things go really sideways.

You get on everyone’s nerves, but they’d be lying if they said they didn’t love you.

Steve tries to keep you in check. Keyword: tries. He’s constantly telling you to “watch your temper” or “think before you act,” and you just grin and ask if he wants you to knit a sweater and write in cursive next. He lectures, you roast him, but there’s a weird father-figure comfort in the way he never gives up on you—even when you’re blowing holes through the training room walls.

Sam? He’s your sparring partner and your verbal sparring partner. The two of you bicker like siblings on a long car ride. You steal his food, call him Birdbrain, and he threatens to throw you off the Quinjet every time. But if anyone outside the team ever looked at you the wrong way, Sam would be the first to step between you and danger

Clint is your partner-in-crime. You once dared him to shoot an arrow through a flaming hoop you made mid-air. He did it. You high-fived. Nat screamed. It was a great day.

Bruce is wary of you. Understandably. He says you “remind him of a bad day.” But he respects your strength and sometimes lets you hang around when he’s working in the lab. You don’t push him, and in return, he gives you space when the fire under your skin starts burning too hot.

Wanda gets it. She sees the fire in your head as well as the one in your fists. You two share a quiet understanding beneath all the sarcasm. She’s the one who talks you down when your temper edges toward dangerous. You never admit it out loud, but sometimes when the nightmares come, it’s her voice that helps you breathe.

Tony loves the fire. It’s entertaining to him, he can’t comprehend how dangerous it is to fuel. Always matching your sarcastic remarks or commenting on the guests that leave your room. Sometimes you think he lives to see you react—burn.

And then there’s Natasha.

Your dynamic with Natasha is… complicated.

From day one, the two of you clashed. She’s ice; you’re fire. She’s calculated; you’re impulsive. She walks into a room and sizes it up like a chessboard. You? You kick the door open and set the board on fire just to see how the pieces scatter.

She says you’re a headache. You call her uptight. She rolls her eyes when you flirt, and you flirt harder. It’s almost a game now—this push and pull, this unspoken dare between you.

You call her Natty, just to get under her skin. You wink at her in briefings, lean too close when you’re teasing, whisper “You love me, admit it,” like it’s a joke. She scoffs, mutters something sharp, and walks away before anyone sees the corner of her mouth twitching up.

But beneath her cold exterior and your loud bravado, there’s something simmering—something that neither of you touches directly. You feel it when her eyes linger too long after a mission, when she patches you up in silence and her fingers hover just a second longer than they need to. You feel it in the rare moments she lets you see behind her walls, and it terrifies you more than any fire ever could.

She gets on your nerves. You get under her skin. And yet, when everything’s falling apart, she’s the one you find standing beside you—silent, steady, and always watching your back.

Maybe it’s love. Maybe it’s danger. Maybe it’s both.

But whatever it is, it burns.

———

You weren’t exactly recruited—you were contained.

After your powers triggered a four-alarm inferno in downtown Berlin during a run-in with a mercenary crew, SHIELD made a call. Fury showed up, grim as ever, and gave you two options: be a weapon for someone else, or learn how to control your fire with people who won’t flinch when you burn.

You chose the Avengers.

It’s been six months. Six long months of testing your limits, pissing off Rogers, burning through reinforced training mats, and learning that your powers don’t just react to anger—they thrive in it.

And Tony? God, Tony’s made it his life mission to poke the metaphorical bear.

———

You’re in the hangar, fresh out of a debrief that felt more like a public execution. Tony wouldn’t shut up about the “scorch marks” you left on the Quinjet floor, and Fury went off about “restraint, discipline, collateral damage, Wildfire, damn it!”

Your fists are clenched. Smoke rises off your skin in thin wisps, heat radiating off you in thick waves. The air itself wavers around you.

Everyone else had the sense to leave, but Natasha?

She leans against a crate a few feet away, arms crossed, like she’s watching a particularly unimpressive fireworks display.

“You done throwing your tantrum?” she asks, arching a brow.

You whip around. “Back off, Romanoff.”

“Original,” she mutters. “You burn a hole in the floor again and Fury’s going to tan your ass.”

“I said back off,” you growl, eyes flickering orange. The fire is crawling up your arms now, licking your shoulders. You’re shaking. The control you’ve spent months building is crumbling fast.

Natasha doesn’t move.

“Breathe,” she says, quietly now. “Unless you want to turn this place into a kiln.”

“Don’t pretend you care,” you snap, voice cracked with heat. “You’re just waiting for me to slip up so you can say I told you so.”

“Oh yeah,” she says dryly, pushing off the crate and walking toward you, unbothered by the scorched floor or the way your body temperature is climbing. “I live for watching your emotional meltdowns. Better than Netflix.”

You laugh once, sharp and bitter. “God, you’re such a—”

But then she’s closer. Her voice drops, no longer playful, but not unkind either.

“Look. I know what it’s like to feel like you’re about to come apart. To be the weapon everyone expects to misfire.”

Her eyes search yours—calm, sharp, unsettlingly gentle.

“You don’t have to prove anything. Not to Stark. Not to Fury. And sure as hell not to me.”

Your breath hitches. The fire falters, sputters, confused. You blink and realize you’ve been trembling. Not with rage. With fear.

You don’t even notice your knees give out until she catches you.

Not gently, but not coldly either—just… present. Strong. Real. Her arms steady you, her touch cooler than your skin, grounding like ice on a burn.

“I’m fine,” you mutter, your voice cracking.

“No, you’re boiling over.” She smirks faintly. “Shocking, I know.”

You snort, half-laughing through a breathless exhale. “You really know how to comfort someone.”

“It’s a talent,” she says. “Now come on. Let’s get you cooled off before you burn off your eyebrows again.”

You look at her—really look. And in her expression, under the teasing and the sarcasm, there’s something soft. Something vulnerable. Something that mirrors the mess inside you.

You’ve always flirted with her, joked and prodded and pushed—but this is the first time it feels dangerously real

And maybe, just maybe, you’re not the only one who’s afraid of what happens if that fire ever turns inward—if the two of you stop fighting it.

You’re still shaking, the fire inside you reduced to embers that stubbornly cling to your skin like static. Natasha doesn’t say much as she guides you through the compound—hand on your arm, firm and warm, a silent anchor.

You expect her to take you to medical, or maybe one of the training rooms. But instead, she wordlessly leads you down the hall toward the Avengers’ private lap pool, tucked away behind reinforced glass and sterile white tile.

She flicks the lights on. They hum softly as the water glows a cool, blue-green.

“Strip,” she says, already kicking off her boots.

You blink. “Wow. Should’ve lost control sooner.”

She glares. “Don’t flatter yourself, Wildfire. You’re a human flamethrower and you need to cool off.”

Still, there’s a twitch at the corner of her mouth—half-smirk, half-internal war. You mutter something about bossy redheads and peel off your shirt. Your skin’s flushed, your chest still rising too fast. The moment your feet touch the water, your body sighs—like the fire inside you exhales all at once.

Natasha doesn’t cannonball or dive. Of course not. She slips into the water like it’s part of her, all grace and calculated movements. She ends up floating beside you, eyes half-lidded, arms spread over the surface like she’s waiting for the silence to say what neither of you has.

“So,” she finally says, voice softer than you expect, “you wanna tell me what that was about?”

You shrug, eyes trained on the pool tiles. “Tony pushed. Fury barked. I snapped. What else is new?”

“That’s not all of it.”

Your jaw tightens. “I’ve spent most of my life being afraid of what I am. People flinch when they look at me. I get too angry and I become this… thing.” You swallow. “And part of me likes it. The heat, the power. It scares me, and I think it scares them too. I’m not like you, Nat. I can’t hide what I am.”

She watches you for a long moment before speaking.

“You think I don’t know what it feels like to be turned into something you didn’t ask to be?” Her voice is low. “I spent years being shaped into a weapon. Made to bury who I was. Smile when ordered. Kill when told.”

You turn your head, meet her eyes. She’s close now—close enough to feel the ripple of her breath across the water.

“I see the way you fight it,” she continues. “The way you laugh and push people away before they can do it first. It’s not just heat you’re holding back.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Not yet. But something softens in you.

“I didn’t think you noticed,” you finally say.

Natasha tilts her head. “I notice everything.”

You chuckle under your breath. “Of course you do.”

There’s a long pause. The water moves between you in gentle waves.

Then you say it, quieter than anything you’ve said during your time with the team.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

She blinks. That cool composure falters for half a second—cracked, not shattered. She glances away like the admission struck something unguarded in her.

“That’s dangerous talk,” she says, voice a little too even. “Especially from someone who lights up like a damn matchstick.”

You smirk. “Maybe. But it’s true.”

Silence again. This time, heavier. More charged.

She shifts closer, and now you’re inches apart—warmth meeting warmth, though the pool should be cooling you both. Her eyes flick down to your lips, just once, before she glances away, guarded again.

“You don’t scare me,” she murmurs.

You blink. “Why not?”

She looks at you, expression unreadable. “Because I’ve danced with fire before.”

Your breath hitches. But neither of you leans in. Not yet.

Instead, you float there in the quiet tension—words unspoken, feelings barely contained—letting the water carry what the fire left behind.

For once, you don’t feel like you’re about to burn the world down.

You just feel seen. The silence between you stretches on, taut and electric.

She’s still watching you from beneath those long lashes, eyes dark in the soft shimmer of the pool lights. That unreadable expression—cool, controlled, calculating—is starting to crack. You see it in the way her fingers twitch in the water, in how her mouth parts like she wants to say something but won’t.

You move first.

Not because you’re bold—but because you’re done pretending.

Your hand brushes her arm under the water. Testing. She doesn’t move.

Then you shift closer, and your voice is nothing but a whisper:

“Say something, Romanoff.”

She meets your eyes. Her voice is low, rough. “Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I say what I want to say…” Her pupils flare with something raw. “I’m not going to be able to stop.”

You inhale sharply. “Then don’t stop.”

And just like that, the match ignites.

She surges forward, closing the space between you with a force you don’t expect—but crave. Her hand grips the back of your neck, the other splashing up water as it finds your jaw, tilting your face toward hers. And then—

She kisses you.

It’s not soft. It’s not slow. It’s not hesitant.

It’s devastating.

Mouths colliding in a desperate tangle of months of tension and biting sarcasm and flirtation that meant too much. Her lips are hot against yours, her body pressed to yours like she’s trying to erase the space that ever existed between you.

You groan into her mouth, hands gripping her waist, pulling her flush against you in the water. She lets you. She wants it. You can feel the shiver roll through her as your fingers splay across the small of her back.

Her legs wrap around you before you even register it, and the heat between you has nothing to do with your powers now. Your heart is pounding. You feel like you’re burning alive again, but this time it’s not dangerous—it’s hers.

When she finally pulls back, your foreheads rest together, breath ragged, water rippling wildly around you both.

You whisper, “So, uh… that was…”

“Shut up,” she breathes, lips brushing yours again.

And then she kisses you again—slower this time, but no less intense. A confession written in the way she leans into you. A vow hidden in the way her thumb traces your cheek under the water.

For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel like a weapon.

You just feel wanted.

And when she finally whispers your name against your lips like it’s a secret—barely audible, almost reverent—you realize you’re already undone.

[controld3vil]

IF YOU CARE

pairing(s): lensless!invincible x reader

synopsis: In this version, where Mark only ever saw you as a comrade, you were spared the worst. You escaped the fate that awaited you in every other reality.

notes -> dare i say he's my fav variant.... reader has hellfire powers (backstory inspired by raven from teen titans) cw: slight angst, canon typical violence

The Invincible War erupted, and everything shattered. Entire cities fell, crumbling under the weight of unrelenting destruction. Thousands of lives are snuffed out with every passing hour. The world seemed to spin out of control, and every known superhero and villain on Earth rushed to its defense. But why? Why Earth? Why this planet? Day by day, the world weakened, a hollow shell as the Invincible doppelgangers tore through everything in their path, leaving nothing but ruin in their wake.

Not even the GDA could stand in their way, and they couldn’t reach you until hours after cities like Chicago and New York had been obliterated. 

Cecil, the head of the GDA, was the first to contact you as you sat in the quiet of your living room, watching the television blare with the devastating news. Headlines flashed – each more grim than the last. The damage was escalating by the minute, and with every rescue team sent to save the lives of the innocent, more lives were lost. The world felt like it was coming apart at the seams. 

“You seeing this?!” Cecil’s voice crackled through the phone, sharp and frantic, sending an uncomfortable twist through your gut. You’d never heard him like this before – not once, not since… Since everything fell apart. You grabbed the remote, silencing the TV as the sound of chaos from the broadcast still hung in the air. Your eyes shifted to the window, watching the dark sky stretch over the city, a subtle sense of dread creeping up your spine.

“These fucking Invincible variants are everywhere,” Cecil snapped, his irritation thick with something darker, something bordering panic. 

“Where do you need me?” It wasn’t concern that pushed the words from your mouth, nor worry about yourself. It was the promise you had made to the GDA months ago, after Omni-Man’s destruction of Earth. Cecil had worn you down, tried to convince you over and over to join the fight, but you’d always refused. You’d never been interested in joining some cheesy, pretentious superhero team. But now? Now the world was burning. Now, there were no more excuses. No more questions. You didn’t need to ask how you’d deal with it. Cecil will give you the coordinates.

A heavy sigh echoed through the line, exhaustion weighing down on Cecil’s voice. “The Guardian’s headquarters. One variant’s tangled up with them, and I need someone to make sure he doesn’t walk away from this fight.” 

It wasn’t that Cecil didn’t believe in Immortal and the others – they could handle powerful foes, sure. But this wasn’t just any enemy. This was Invincible. The strongest person on Earth, now multiplied. Eighteen versions of him, each with the same terrifying strength. Cecil needed someone who could match that raw power, someone who wasn’t afraid to step in when things were beyond even the Guardian’s reach.

The gravity of it all settled in. You didn’t have to say anything more. 

“You got it.” You didn’t waste a second, immediately dialing your watch to set your coordinates for the Guardian’s headquarters. The familiar ding echoed in your ear, confirming your destination. You paused for a moment, the weight of the situation creeping up on you. 

“How long do you think this will last?” The question slipped from your mouth, though you already knew the answer would be a hollow one. 

“God, I don’t know.” Cecil’s voice was tight, raw with the tension of the situation. “But the numbers don’t lie. We’re looking at a catastrophe, with lives on the line by the second. You need to go – now– before it’s too late. “ 

The finality in his voice made your stomach twist, a cold sense of urgency washing over you. No more hesitation, no more questions. You were already moving. 

In the next breath, the world around you warped and shifted, the familiar comfort of your home replaced by the stark, sterile walls of the Guardian’s headquarters. The air was heavy with tension, filled with the metallic tang of battle and the distant sounds of chaos outside. You’d prepared for this moment, tucked away your emotions, and steeled yourself for the inevitable. But nothing could have prepared you for what you were about to witness. 

As you made your way through the facility, the reality of the destruction that had already been wrought and the carnage still unfolding hit you like a wave. This wasn’t some distant theory anymore. This was real.

As you drew closer to the barricade, the air was thick with the piercing, frantic screams of those caught in the confusion. Hang in there, Immortal. The words resonated in your mind as you steadied yourself, fingers brushing the switch hidden at your waist. Every step brought you closer, but you could feel the weight of what was pressing down on you. You never imagined it would come to this – not in a million years. Never would you have thought you’d be the one forced to end Invincible’s life. He and Cecil had never seen eye to eye – his opposition to the GDA was clear, but you always respected him. Hell, you admired him. He fought for his family, for the ones he loved with a determination that you could claim for yourself.

You didn’t have that kind of bond. Not the way he did. When the GDA took you in, they gave you something to fight for, but not like that. You couldn’t help but wonder how different your life might have been if someone had fought so fiercely for you as he did for them. 

“Man, you guys are great! Has anyone told you that?” The alternate Invincible’s voice was filled with gleeful excitement, completely devoid of remorse for the destruction he was wreaking. It was as if he was savoring every moment of it like he was enjoying playing the lives of others for sport. “I wish I could’ve fought you all in my world!” 

“You monster!” Immortal shouted, his body surging toward the doppelganger, fists flying with explosive force. “You’re nothing but a pale imitation of Invincible!” 

But the variant barely flinched, almost as if Immortal’s rage was beneath him. His eyes glinted with dark amusement, a twisted smile creeping across his face as he weaved through his punches, savoring the power he held over the Guardians. It wasn’t just a battle to him – it was a performance. And he was relishing every brutal second of it. 

It was unnerving how effortlessly this Invincible absorbed the blows. He looked identical to the one you knew – same yellow, black, and blue suit – but the absence of the familiar goggles left the mask slightly askew, offering a glance at his face. That small glimpse, however, was enough to send a chill down your spine. The eyes that stared back weren’t the eyes of a hero. 

“I mean – I don’t need any more motivation to kill you. But sure, insult me.” There was something deeply unsettling in his words and smile, a twisted satisfaction that lingered like poison in the air. He delivers a sucker punch right beneath Immortal, propelling him straight up. 

But he didn’t expect the searing, agonizing heat of fire. Not just any fire – hellfire. It burned through his suit, sharp and relentless, as the flames pricked at his skin. He spun in mid-air, his expression shifting from cocky amusement to genuine surprise as he locked eyes with you. Hovering a few feet above, he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Well look who it is!” His grin stretched wider, and you noticed the blood dripping from his mouth, the unsettling detail sending a jolt of tension through your chest. Instinctive fear gripped you, cold and unrelenting. “Nice to see you, babe!”

You hummed, taking slow, deliberate steps toward him. “Hey, how’s it going?” Your voice was a perfect mask of indifference, deadpan and steady, your gaze unwavering. Every fiber in your body was focused on him, eyes locked onto his every movement. You could feel Immortal somewhere nearby, floating in a daze with a shattered jaw. But for now, you’d play along with his twisted game – wait for the right moment to close the distance.  

Invincible’s eyes raked over your figure, utterly unfazed by the absurdity of the situation. It was a chilling thing – how easily he could make this moment feel like something else entirely. “God, you look good!” he smirked. “Say, why don’t we do a little one-on-one, huh? For old time’s sake?” His feet lowered slowly, hovering just above the ground, but not enough for you to act – yet. “Actually, did the me from this world ever get to–” His voice trailed off, curiosity glinting in his eyes, but you felt his confidence faltering just enough for you to know that the game was far from over. 

“No,” You remarked, your tone casual. “We’re not exactly close.” But there was something in his intense stare that unsettled you – something that told you he wasn’t sharing everything, that there was more beneath the surface. “But I’m guessing in your world, that’s not the case.” 

“Sharp as ever,” he commented, a slight admiration in his voice. You could see his defenses lowering, just for a moment – a crack in his composure. You knew you needed to seize that opening. “God, I’ve missed you.” 

You raised an eyebrow, the faintest trace of surprise crossing your face. “Really?” you asked, voice steady, trying to mask any hint of emotion. Knowing how highly sensitive Invincible’s ears were, you fought to keep your cool, burying whatever reaction threatened to surface. 

But it was difficult. The entire situation was absurd, like some twisted dream, a distorted reality you couldn’t fully understand. Because the truth was, you’d never been close to Invincible – not even in the slightest. If anything, you were only acquaintances, by virtue of Cecil’s influence, a fact that had always kept the distance between you two. And that was probably the biggest barrier to any kind of connection – his life, his choices compared to yours were completely separate paths, never intersecting.

You worked for Cecil, and despite all his moral wrongdoings, you empathized with it. He had often justified his actions with the words, the greater good, in that you knew the cost of it would do. And yet, you stayed. You were bound to him, just as your parents had bound you, long before you could even understand the gravity of the pact. You were the result of a deal made in the shadows, your very existence tied to secrecy that shaped your role in this world – the dark passenger, the one who stalked the dead, the agent of the sacrilegious world. Damien Darkblood would’ve been the first to concur that you were always the outsider, never belonging to either side.

Invincible, on the other hand, had lived a life before all this. He’d had the luxury of freedom – to grow, to experience what it meant to be human before the weight of the world fell onto his shoulder. The weight you, on the other hand, were born into. The fabric of your very existence already sealed your fate long before you could even question it. Your paths were never meant to cross, and yet here you were – confronting a man you barely knew, who now stood before you as an echo of the person he used to be. 

“Yeah, it was a shame we didn’t spend much time together,” Invincible said with a tone that straddled the line between genuine and condescension. “You know before I had to kill you.” 

“Huh.” It was all you could muster, a single syllable to mask the disbelief rolling through your mind. Was this really happening? Was this how it was going to play out?

“But,” he continued, his voice softening, the edges of it pulling in something like sorrow or even remnants of a past he wasn’t sure how to navigate anymore. Finally, his feet touched the ground, and he took a slow, purposeful step toward you. His dark brown eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that was all too much to bear – something in that gaze that reminded you of the inferno you had long buried inside. It was raw, it was fierce, and it was just as dangerous as the man standing before you. “Believe me when I say this… I did care about you.” 

A bitter laugh bubbled up in your throat, but you swallowed it down. You raised a brow, your gaze was firm and unwavering as you studied him. Was this some kind of joke? “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Your voice was laced with venom, each word cutting sharper than the last. You couldn’t even begin to understand what he was trying to do – what he was hoping to achieve with these sorrowful words. His confession, if that’s what you could call it, fell flat, if anything, it only stoked the flames of your frustration. 

You looked at him with wicked disdain, your expression indifferent, though behind it, a storm was brewing. His words weren’t enough to make you falter – not even close. The audacity of him to think that now, of all times, he could manipulate you with some half-hearted attempt at remorse was laughable. It didn’t stir anything in you. It only made you sick, as the man standing before you was a hollow version of what he was supposed to be. 

You had no time for his games. Not now. Not after everything. 

With a quick motion, the air around you began to warp, thick with the heat of something far more ancient and menacing than anything in the room. The flames that burned inside you, that had always burned inside you, began to flare to life. Heat prickled against your skin, and your fists clenched as a surge of power thrummed through your veins. 

Hellfire. 

It erupted from your palms into a burst of molten energy, crackling with an intensity that could melt stone. Invincible’s eyes widened as he barely managed to block the first wave of fire. The flames scorched his skin, blackening his suit, but he did not back down, Instead, he grinned – a wide, maddening smile that only angered your temper further.

“Impressive,” he said, his voice tinged with admiration. But it was also laced with mockery too. “You think that’ll stop me?”

You didn’t respond. 

With a roar, you threw another wave of hellfire at him, more intense this. The green flames surged toward him like a tidal wave, hot enough to sear through everything in its path. He dove sideways, just narrowly escaping the inferno as it roared past him, setting the ground ablaze where he had been standing. 

You summoned more, your body surging with an overwhelming heat and anger. It radiated off you in pulses, making the air itself shimmer. Invincible hesitated for a split second, and that was all you needed.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Okay, uhm *kinda thunderbolts spoilers ahead*

Can I please request something with (beefy thunderbolts) Bucky Barnes and a shy sweet female reader (maybe grumpy x sunshine)

With the prompts: “hell, okay shit that actually really fucking hurts.”, “just let me help you... please”

Valentina brought the reader to the tower as a new team member. The reader has healing powers and is so shy but kind and polite, everyone likes her. Bucky and the reader are falling for each other but of course they are not admitting it. Like glances from the other side of the room and the reader is so flustered. Somehow Bucky gets her to talk more and more (when the reader feels safe and trusts him, she talks like a waterfall) and they become friends.

Later the team is send to a mission and the enemies attacking the reader and Bucky runs infront of her to protect her and gets shot, then he fights with one of the the enemy. When he turns around to the reader (to check if she is okay) he gets distracted and Bucky gets stabbed. He fell to his knees and Alexei brings Bucky and the reader to the tower and went back to the others.

The reader brings Bucky to her room and is cleaning his wounds at first and takes care of him. Bucky notices that her hands are shaking and her eyes are full with tears (the reader thinks it's her fault but it's really not). He is comforting her and soothes her and she starts to heal him.

A moment later he is so caring and soft and they confess their feelings to each other 🥺❤️

I'm so sorry I got carried away, tell me if it’s too detailed or if you want an other scenario

Thank you so much 😌❤️

Not Your Fault » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Female Reader with the Thunderbolts

Summary: Bucky gets injured while he’s trying to protect you during a mission and you feel like it’s your fault and he assures you that it’s not your fault.

Warnings: Fluff, language, flirting, blood, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: @jackys-stuff-blog thank you for the lovely request🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckyys-babydoll / divider made by me

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

You nervously fidgeted with your fingers as you rode the elevator to the main room of the tower with Valentina. You got startled a little bit by the ding of the elevator when the doors opened. You followed Valentina out of the elevator and into the main room where there was a small group of people. The Thunderbolts gathered around when they seen Valentina.

“What do you want, Valentina?” Yelena asks with annoyance in her voice.

“I have a new team member for you guys.” Valentina says.

They looked over at you. You gave them a shy smile and a small wave. Valentina nudged you with her shoulder as a way of telling you to introduce yourself to them.

“I’m Y/N.” You finally introduced yourself to them.

“Enjoy your new team member.” Valentina says.

The Thunderbolts watched Valentina leave before turning their attention back to you. They all introduced themselves to you. They’re all really nice to you, but you still feel shy around them, which they don’t mind.

“Do you have powers or abilities we need to know about?” Yelena asks.

“I have healing powers.” You tell them.

“So you can heal cuts and stuff like that?” John asks.

“That’s what healing powers do, Walker.” Ava says.

Bucky was staring at you with heart eyes as you shyly talked to everyone. He thinks your shyness is cute.

“Would you like a tour of the place?�� Bucky asks.

You nodded and smiled. Bucky showed you all around the tower, showing you to your bedroom last.

“And this is your room.” Bucky says as you followed him in the room.

“Where’s your room?” You curiously asked.

“My room is right next door.” He says, pointing to the right.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound weird or creepy. I was just curious.” You nervously rambled.

“It’s ok. I don’t think it’s weird or creepy at all. You’re welcome to come to my room at anytime of the night if you need anything late at night.” He says.

“Ok.” You replied softly and shyly.

“Do you have any questions?” He asks.

“Not right now, but I’ll let you know if I do.” You answered.

———

It didn’t take you long to adjust to living in the tower. Bucky made it easier for you to adjust too. Everyone loves you, especially Bucky. You hangout and talk to him more than the rest of the team. You and him have become best friends with the short amount of time you’ve been living there. He has gotten you to come out of your shell a little bit. Once he gets you talking, you don’t stop talking. Bucky listens to every word you say with the look of adoration on his face. Also, you have a huge crush on Bucky and he feels the same way about you, but neither of you have admitted to it yet. The team has noticed it too.

Right now, you and Bucky are watching movies. Actually, you fell asleep in the middle of the third movie. So did Bucky. Bucky woke up to the TV lighting up the living room and you snuggled up against him. He smiles at you before checking the time on his watch. It’s later than either of you expected. Bucky shut the TV off and picked you up bridal style, carrying you to your bedroom. He gently laid you down on your bed and covered you up with a blanket. In your sleep, you reached a hand out and grabbed Bucky’s arm before he could walk away. He decided to stay in your room for the night. There’s no harm in that, right? It’s just for one night. Bucky got in bed next to you and protectively wrapped his arms around you.

“Goodnight, doll.” Bucky whispers softly and kisses your cheek.

———

A few days later, you, Bucky, and the team had to go on a mission. You guys had a meeting before it and then suited up. During the mission, Bucky tried his best to protect you and do his part of the mission at the same time. While you were doing your part of the mission, Bucky sees someone aiming their gun at you. His eyes went wide and he ran over to you, shielding you from the bullet. Bucky got shot while he was shielding you from the bullet. Then he turned around to check on you. You had a look on your face like you were about to start freaking out.

“Are you ok, doll?” Bucky asks softly.

“I-I am now.” You stuttered in a shaky voice. “I didn’t see that guy.” You say.

“It’s ok. It happens.” He says.

You nodded. While Bucky was making sure you were ok, he wasn’t paying attention to anything around him. The guy who tried to shoot you, walked over to you and Bucky, stabbing him next to where he was shot. Your eyes widened in horror as he fell to his knees in pain.

“Bucky!” You screamed.

You dropped to your knees to check on him. You looked down to see his hand on his lower abdomen. You seen blood seeping behind his fingers. Your eyes teared up. Bucky noticed.

“Don’t cry, babydoll. I’m fine.” Bucky manages to say and then winces in pain.

“You’re bleeding.” Is all you say.

Alexei wasn’t too far from where you and Bucky are when he saw Bucky on his knees and in pain. He ran over to you guys. Without asking what happened, Alexei helped Bucky up and took him back to the tower. You followed beside them. Alexei took Bucky to your bedroom and helped him in your bed.

“Thank you, Alexei.” You say.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” Alexei replies.

Alexei left your bedroom, making sure to close the door behind him. You got the first aid kit from your bathroom and sat down on the bed next to Bucky. Normally, Bucky can tolerate pain, but it hurts a lot more this time than it did in the past.

“Hell, ok, shit. That actually fucking hurts.” Bucky groans in pain, his hand still on his abdomen where he got shot and stabbed.

“Just let me help you… please?” You say softly.

Bucky nods and takes his hand off his abdomen. He leans up just enough to take his shirt off, wincing in pain as he did so. Your eyes teared up again when you see where he was shot and stabbed. You started with wiping the excess blood from his wounds and then put alcohol on both wounds so they didn’t get infected.

“Fuck!” He winces at the sting of the alcohol.

As you continued to clean his wounds, you couldn’t help but feel like this is your fault. If you have seen that guy who did this to Bucky, he wouldn’t be in this position right now. Bucky looks down, watching you clean his wounds, noticing that your hands are shaking. He also seen tears in your eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong, babydoll?” Bucky asks softly, putting his hand on your arm.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m so sorry.” You apologized profusely, your voice cracking and tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, doll.” He says.

“Yes I do. This is my fault. This shouldn’t have happened to you. I should’ve been paying attention.” You say.

Bucky props himself up on his vibranium elbow and cups your cheek with his right hand, wincing in pain as he sat up.

“I want you to listen to me when I say this, ok?” He begins. “This is not in any way your fault.” He assures softly.

“It feels like it.” You say.

“It could’ve happened to any one of us. If this happened to you, I would’ve dropped everything to patch you up.” He says softly. “I want you to understand that this is not your fault, ok?” He assures softly again.

“Ok.” You replied in a whisper.

Bucky wiped your tears away while looking deep in your eyes. Something about staring in Bucky’s blue eyes felt calming to you. He leaned up more and kissed you passionately. Now you definitely feel calmer. It’s like every worry you had in you left your body the second you felt Bucky’s soft lips on yours.

“How do you feel now?” Bucky asks softly.

“Calmer.” You answered softly.

“Good.” He replies softly.

Bucky lays back on the bed so you can finish cleaning up his wounds.

“I’m going to heal you now, ok?” You say softly.

“Ok.” Bucky replies.

“It shouldn’t hurt.” You say.

Bucky nods and looks down, watching as you hovered your hands over his wounds. A bright light shines in your hands as you healed his wounds. It took a few seconds to heal his wounds and then he was good as new and not in pain anymore. You moved your hands away to check the area of his abdomen where his wounds were. The wounds weren’t there anymore. He’s healed.

“How do you feel?” You asked.

“I’m not in pain anymore.” Bucky says.

“Good. That’s good.” You say softly.

You cleaned up everything and put away the first aid kit. Bucky noticed your hands were shaking again and your eyes were tearing up.

“Hey, look at me.” Bucky whispers. “I’m fine now.” He whispers again.

“I thought you were going to die before I got the chance to tell you that I love you.” You say, your voice cracking and your eyes tearing up again.

“You love me?” He asks, making sure he heard you right.

You nodded and sniffled.

“I love you too, doll.” Bucky says softly, cupping your cheeks.

You smiled when he said that. Bucky dips his head down to kiss you. This kiss had more passion in it than the first kiss.

“Be mine?” He asks in almost a whisper.

“I would love to be yours, Bucky.” You say softly.

Bucky smiles and kisses you once more.

“Thank you for healing me.” He says softly.

“You don’t have to thank me, Bucky. I would’ve healed you no matter what.” You say with a smile.

-Bucky’s Doll

[feelmyskinonyourskin]

Thinking about Frank Castle x Avengers!Reader

You met him through Bucky because Sam would obviously try and find Bucky a veteran's support group like the one he ran in CATWS but in Brooklyn - which led him to Curtis' group (I've put this HC in previous writing and I stand by it)

You're roommates with Sam and Bucky and occasionally they host poker night with some of the guys and one night you come home from an evening stroll to a kitchen table of vets and beer and cards.

You smile shyly and say hi to the group and Frank is instantly smitten.

But it takes weeks of casual small talk and asking Bucky about you for him to finally pluck up the courage to ask you out.

Once you make things official, he doesn't want anyone coming after you in retaliation against him plus he's so scared to lose yet another person he cares about. So he asks to keep your relationship secret even from the rest of the Avengers, which makes you roll your eyes because you have super powers you'd be fine to defend yourself against any of Frank's enemies.

Frank also worries you might be a little ashamed of him publicly. He thinks it might be harder on you if the world knew you were dating a criminal vigilante. Avengers get lots of press and attention and he'd hate to bring his drama into it and hurt your image and potentially all the good you do in the world even if you don't give a shit about the publicity side of it.

Which means a lot of sneaking around - dates in darkly lit restaurants and such.

Date nights frequently get postponed because you getting called on last minute missions or Frank takes longer hunting down a gang than he was anticipating.

Even if you go weeks without seeing each other because of your busy work lives, the love is always still there and you both do a great job of making up for lost time.

When you give him recaps of your recent missions, he always scoffs and gets worried about your safety and asks you not to go into such dangerous situations but obviously you have to it's your job.

So you at some point have to make a rule that he gets no interference in your work stuff. He can make any request in your civilian life to keep you safe (ie. you can't go out at night without him, etc.) but is not allowed to make any requests about your job.

Until inevitably your work crosses paths with his work because the street level gangs and mob bosses he takes down tend to have ties to bigger things like Hydra and such.

One night you're at a warehouse upstate following a lead on a Hydra weapons facility and bump into Frank who was tracking down a human trafficking ring that was also linked to the same address.

Since he knows you, Bucky and Sam, he agrees to help the Avengers just this one time.

You could never convince him to join up and "go legit" no matter how hard you tried. He liked working alone and with noone giving him orders.

As you raid the warehouse and take down the enemy, he's aghast at seeing you put yourself in harms way so flippantly but you have powers and Shield training, so of course you're fine.

He's never actually seen you in action before and he eventually gets over the fear and is super turned on at seeing you be so bad ass and kick booty.

Yeah, the passionate "I missed you. That was so badass. I was so scared. God I hope we don't get caught." sex you have behind the warehouse as the mission is wrapping up is steamy and animalistic.

Bucky has super soldier hearing so he hears it and figures it out first.

Except Yelena has actually known for months because she's a spy, duh.

Sam is the last to figure it out but isn't surprised, you two are so compatible it seems obvious that you should be together.

[a-spes]

Before the Storm. (N. R. x W. M. x R). — Part Zero, 'Of Ashes and Dust'. (338 words).

" From the ashes of a fallen kingdom, a threat that everyone thought was defeated shall rise once more, sentencing a second realm to the same fate. The prophecy foretells that the apparition of a young woman where she never belonged will herald the end of everything. Can the impending doom be forestalled, or will the destruction of Earth become inevitable? "

| Tags & Warnings — Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x Enhanced!Reader. No warning for this part.

| SERIES MASTERLIST - MAIN MASTERLIST - REQUEST GUIDELINES. previous part. - next part.

You are wandering through the streets of the Kingdom that you used to call your home — But was the word still appropriate to use? 

The now empty streets of the city are far from the one you remember, those that once were full of life, and the buildings that used to proudly stand, symbols of the realm’s wealth and strength, were now crumbling.

There was nothing familiar anymore about this place.

The city you are travelling through is no more than the ruins of the one that once stood there — Who would have guessed that this was one of the most powerful capitals?

But it was too late to save it, the evil corrupting these lands being too strong, and while many people tried to fight for their homes, none of them could beat the prophecy. Eventually, everyone left, leaving you as the only soul on these lands. 

You refused to leave because you couldn’t imagine your future anywhere else. You are tied to this realm in a way that can’t be described, and despite the feeling of dying at the same time as the city, you have never felt so.. alive in your life.

The ground was trembling beneath your feet, and the warmth of the flames was caressing your face. The ashes have penetrated your lungs, making it difficult to breathe and yet, there was something oddly comforting in your situation, in watching the city gradually being destroyed, and witnessing the castle on the hill disappearing.

You consider yourself lucky for having the chance to walk these streets one last time, to be able to look at the stars before they eventually vanish, along with everything else — Including yourself. The place you cherished soon becoming your grave.

One by one, each of the things that had made this city great was disappearing and soon, it’ll be the turn of memories of the people who inhabited these lands to be taken.

And then, it will be as if this realm never even existed in the first place.

| SERIES MASTERLIST - MAIN MASTERLIST - REQUEST GUIDELINES. previous part. - next part.

| Tag list —

[myinconnelly1]

All the Luck in the World Pt 19

Masterlist

Warnings: depression (General), anxiety (General), pregnancy, nausea, anemia, Valentina's manipulations, stress trigger (PTSD), PTSD Reaction, Canon Violence (its satisfying, Y'all) Mentions of drug use, withdrawal (kinda)

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds x OFC (you)

Word Count: 1,002

Summary: With all her luck, Jinx has to wonder if it's good or bad. When she meets Bob, she starts to get her hopes up..

“She’s downstairs,” Ava said to the team as she came out of the stairwell.

Your breathing quickened.  It has only been a few days since her press conference.  Why was she here now, already?  Did she know? You felt a shiver, as your body broke out in cold sweat and your breathing became ragged.

Bucky hadn’t given you a gun yet.  You weren’t sure if you had the grip strength to load the magazine.  You were not going back to her compound.  There was a low buzzing in your ears as you stared at the elevator doors expecting them to open at any second.

You were vaguely aware of Bob saying something next to you, but it didn’t seem important.  Valentina or her men could come out of those doors across the hall.  You were too vulnerable where you were standing in the main room.  All they had to do was start shooting and you could be hit.  You were not conscious of the way your arms came up to hold yourself and protect your baby.

There was a sudden and sharp pain on your cheek, shocking a full breath through your system and making you look away from the elevator doors.  Bob was standing on one side of you looking very concerned and mildly upset.  To the other side of you was John.  He held his hand in front of you and snapped his fingers.  You realized he had just slapped you.

“What the hell?” you asked trying for annoyance.  The only emotion that came through your words, however, was terror.

“You zoned out,” John said like it explained everything.

“We were saying, we don’t know what she knows, so act normal and try not to give anything away that you don’t have to,” Bucky said.  He was giving you a look that told you he knew exactly what you were feeling.  The elevator doors dinged, and you jumped so hard you almost hurt your neck.

“There’s my team!” Valentina said with a giant fake smile plastered on her face.  “My new Avengers!”  The way she called you hers like she owned you, brought that cold sweat and nauseous feeling back to you.  Bob grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly and sporadically.  That seemed to help.  You couldn’t get too far in your spiral before he squeezed again.

“What do you want Val,” Bucky said harshly.

“I assume you saw my speech,” she said shrugging nonchalantly.  “I’m here to go over the training regimen, press tours, your next assignments.”  Everyone tensed at her words.

“What makes you think we need a new member?  Or that Jinx is even a competent member of our team?” John said as he took a step in front of you.  He made it look like he was trying to take up Val’s line of vision, but it was very obviously an attempt to hide you.

“Oh, her luck will be a vital addition to your team,” Valentina said.  “We know that the Sentry project’s blood enhances her abilities for a short time.  So, we will need to do another transfusion, to prove to the scientific community and the shareholders that Jinx is the next big thing.”

You were shaking as you stood behind John.  Bob could feel the trembling in your hand and was doing his best not to look at you.  He wasn’t sure he could without looking at your belly. You wanted to be shaking from fear, or anger, anything other than desperation.  You hated the rush that you felt whenever you had the Sentry’s blood rushing freshly through your veins.  Your face felt warmth with shame, a stark contrast to the way the rest of your body was broken out in gooseflesh.

“You’re not touching her,” Alexi said.  The man was usually happy and excited, silly even.  It was easy to forget how large and intimidating he could be when he wanted to be.  Bob squeezed your hand, and it was enough to bring you from your thoughts.

“Fine, you can take her to a regular doctor for her superhero physical,” Valentina mocked.  “She and Robert can go to a superhero clinic and get their blood drawn there.  How are you with needles nowadays, Robert?”  Bob let go of your hand.  You knew the shame he felt.  Your emotional roller coaster came to a screeching halt as you snapped.  You pushed past John and went straight up to Valentina.  She looked almost smug as you got in front of her.

The was a resounding thwack followed by Valentina nearly falling over when your open hand connected with her cheek.  You didn’t see the looks on any of the Avengers’ faces but heard Alexi restraining from cheering.  Bucky had walked up behind you and put his hand on your shoulder to pull you away.  John grabbed hold of you, his arm around your chest as he literally hauled you away from her and out of the room.

“Ow,” She said as she straightened herself and rubbed at the red mark on her cheek.  “Now that we’ve gotten past that, can we discuss semantics?”

“She’s not going on any missions,” Bob said before he could stop himself.  He closed his eyes and bit his tongue.  He had done the thing everyone had been worried about.

“And why not?  With an arm like that, I can tell you have already been training her,” Valentina looked around the room at the silent faces.  “Whatever secret you think you’re hiding, I already know it.  You think I wouldn’t do my research after the ex-junkie here got into my program?”  Bob flinched at her words.

“Well, if you already know, then we don’t need to tell you,” Yelena said, calling her bluff.  Valentina scowled at her.

“I think you are just making things up because you don’t want me to have access to my projects.”  Valentina’s voice was low and had a dangerous edge to it.  Yelena made eye contact with Bucky.  Her statements proved that she didn’t know about the baby.  That gave them the upper hand.

“Alright, Val,” Bucky said in mock surrender.  “You win; you can have Jinx for your press tours as part of our team.  But we have some conditions.  She doesn’t go on missions with us unless she wants to.  And you don’t get to do any medical workups on her.”

“I’m going to regret this.  If I accept your terms, will you tell me this secret that you don’t think I know?  I need to know everything going on with my superheroes.”

“Everything?” Ava asked nervously.

“Everything and I get access to all her medical records going forward.  I won’t do them, but I will get copies, timely.”  The last part sounded like a threat.

“Fine,” Bucky said.  Bob’s head jerked.  He hadn’t expected this to be the way things went.  His body tensed with a feeling of betrayal.  Yelena sensed the shift in his mood instantly and moved to get him out of the room.

“Go, please,” she whispered ushering him out. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“She’s pregnant,” Bucky said levelly after he and Val had shaken hands.

“WHAT?” Valentina’s face looked like she was going to explode. “How?”

“With Bob, how do you think?” Ava said curtly.

“That wasn’t the plan!” Bob was too made to actually shout, but his body language and the way his irises flashed gold made it seem like he was.

“I know,” Yelena said holding her hands up and placating him.  “She was going to find out.  We had a chance to use the information to our advantage.  You and Jinx are going to be protected now.  You get to keep your promise.  No one is going to touch her.”  Bob was breathing heavily trying to regain his composure, hands shaking.

“That was a good hit, kid,” John whispered to you as he sat with you in your room.

“She deserved it,” You agreed.  You hadn’t shaken the rage or the fear and little tears that were pricking at the corners of your eyes had started to roll down your cheeks.

“She did.  Listen, I know you might not believe it right now,” he said leaning down to catch your gaze.  “But you and Lucky, there,” he pointed at your belly, “Your family.  We’re going to keep you safe.  But that’s hard to do if you go around assaulting people.”

“Lucky?” You huffed as you stared at him.

“You got a better name for them?”  he asked as you dragged your hand over your shirt.  You couldn’t feel a bump yet, but you did feel different to yourself at least.  You were softer.  You were going to have a baby, and this team, these people in this tower, were your family.  They were going to keep you safe.

[crazyunsexycool]

My Little Love

Girl's Weekend

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Word count:2.4k

Warning: drinking, guns, fighting, bombing, Just women kicking ass, idk what else....

A/N: I wanted to write something that was Nat, Wanda and Sugar just for fun. This is mostly to show their friendship and it's a pre-Bucky x Sugar one shot. This takes place before the main series!

Series Masterlist

It was a rare moment in the compound. Usually there were always a few team members hanging around somewhere, especially on a Thursday night. But as luck would have it you were the only person from the main team to be in. You’d been on your own small mission and came back to find everyone else was out on missions as well. A weekend to yourself sounded nice. You’d been hanging out in your apartment when the door opened to reveal Nat in pajamas. She promptly sat on the couch next to you, taking the wine glass you’d been holding and taking a sip. You grabbed another glass and poured yourself more. The two of you watched tv and talked. A few hours later Wanda shows up and takes her place in an armchair.

For the next few hours the three of you joked, gossiped, did some face masks and drank more wine than you should have. Friday informs you that the rest of the team will be out for the next few days. Nat’s eyes light up when she hears that. No boys for three days, it was wonderful.

“This is the first time that the three of us have been together without the boys around.” Wanda says.

“We hang out, just us, all the time.” 

“Yeah but the boys are always around and they end up crashing our plans.”

“Especially Bucky,” Nat teases and wiggles her eyebrows. “I wonder why?”

“We are just friends.” You reply, you can’t help but smile. It was no secret between the three of you that you liked Bucky. 

“Anyways, we should take advantage and have a full girls only weekend. We start tomorrow with a spa day.”

“Then we go shopping on Saturday.” Wanda adds. 

Nat and Wanda look at you, waiting to see what you would suggest. 

“We could get drinks at that bar Sam mentioned.” 

“Yes.” Wanda exclaims with a big smile. 

“We could do brunch on Sunday and then go get our nails done.” 

“That sounds like a great plan.” You grab the wine bottle. “But for tonight we finish this off and have a sleepover.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ringing was pulling you from sleep. Then there was your name being called until you finally opened your eyes. It took a second to orient yourself. You were still in the living room. Wanda had her head on your lap and her legs over the arm rest while Nat rested her head on your shoulder. Her arm was wrapped around your midsection and she even cuddled closer. 

“Agent Y/L/N, there is an urgent call from director Fury.” 

“Put him through, thank you.” You tell Friday. 

“Finally.” You hear Fury’s annoyance. 

“Sorry Fury. What’s going on?” 

“Are Romanoff and Maximoff with you?” He asks.

“Yes sir.” You nudge both women until they start to stir. 

“There is a terrorist group we’ve been tracking for a while now. Intel suggests they are making a move at the U.N. Summit that's being held this weekend in Brazil and you need to leave within the next hour in order to stop them. I’ll send the rest of the information to you so that you can go over it on the jet.”

Both women were up and alert although the three of you were slightly hungover. They started getting up once Fury hung up. 

“Meet at the jet in 30.” Nat says. 

“But my head is killing me.” Wanda complains. 

“Don’t worry I’ll bring the hangover cure for us. Just go get ready.”

“So much for a girl’s weekend.”

“Maybe next time, ladies. See you on the jet.” Nat mutters and walks out followed by Wanda. 

You rush to your room to put a go bag together quickly. Then you go to one of your spare rooms where you keep your tactical suit, well stocked first aid kits and weapons. After grabbing what you needed you put on your suit and headed to the jet. 

****

You were second on the jet. Nat was already in the pilot’s seat, the lights of the screens lighting her face. It was still the middle of the night so hopefully you made it to your destination with enough time. Wanda shows up a few minutes after you do. 

“Ok, before we take off I have to give you each the hangover shot. We have to be clear headed on this mission.” You say while looking through your medical kit. 

“Please do.” Wanda sticks out her arm while her eyes are still closed. “I also brought coffee.” 

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“How did you even come up with this?” Nat asked as she rolled up her sleeve.

“I made a joke about it to Bruce but he took it seriously. We worked on it for weeks.” You give a little shrug. “It works great so you won’t hear me complaining.” 

Once you were done Nat went back to the pilot’s chair while you and Wanda strapped in for take off.  After the jet was airborne and headed in the right direction Nat joined you at one of the computer stations. You’re typing away before the information Fury had sent pops up over the conference table toward the center of the jet. You both join Wanda and go over everything. The plan has basically been laid out for you by the agent that’s been keeping tabs on the group. Nat makes some changes and adds back up plans of course. Wanda adds her input and you offer your point of view. The three of you work well together. You all have different sets of skills that complement each other and cover the gaps. Naturally Nat takes the lead which is fine by you since she has more experience than you and Wanda put together. By the time you get to Brazil you’re confident everything will work out fine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Smoke and debris settled around you. There was a ringing in your ear from the bomb that had gone off. As you coughed you searched the area for the person that had dropped the bag with the bomb. 

“Y/N? Answer me.” Wanda sounded desperate as she called your name and then Nat over comms. 

“I’m here.” You coughed. “Suspect is on the move.” 

“Don’t go after him.” 

“I have to, he has another explosive in his possession.” You say between coughing.

“Wanda head north, I’ll meet Y/N.” 

You start to run, yelling at the civilians in your way to get out. There was debris all over the lobby of the building you were at but you were a few steps away from the door. Outside Nat’s motorcycle revved and you quickened your step. She was literally right in front of the doors. You didn’t waste any time and hopped on behind her. The motorcycle bounced as Nat drove down the stairs. She swerved through the traffic jam while you communicated with Wanda. 

The three of you met up again at a government office building. People were screaming and running out. Some of them had some type of purple dust on their clothes and skin. It was very obviously causing them pain. 

“There on the second floor.” Nat pointed up to a row of windows where your targets were walking by. 

“If I can get up there I can distract them while you get everyone out. Then we meet and finish this.” You said, looking over at both redheads. They nod in approval. “Ok Wanda, can you get me up there?”

Red magic pulses around her hands and in her eyes. “Of course I can.” 

You reach into one of the pockets of your suit and grab a small respirator to place over your face. It automatically activates and covers your nose and mouth. You extend your hand out and pull the door of a car that had crashed nearby. The metal bends at your will until you form it into small orbs. 

“Ready?” Wanda asks. 

You nod and watch as red magic swirls and lifts you. As you fly toward the window the metal orbs you made shoot forward and break the glass. You land on your feet and immediately start to fight against the group of people causing havoc. Plumes of purple smoke hang heavy in the air. It makes your eyes sting but you push forward.

The metal from the bangles you always wore and the metal from the car door bend to your will. One moment metal is draped over your chest as bullets are shot your way and the next moment little pellets are flying through the air to hit their target. 

The harder you fought the more it seemed like people kept coming at you. Still you kept forward, deep into the belly of the building until you got to the center. The atrium of the building had seen better days. Where once was a large sculpture at the center there was now rubble and dust. The stairs that connected the ground floor with the rest of the building had taken a hit, leaving gaps in the stairs. The decorative plants and benches were all destroyed. People were hiding behind whatever they could as the group of terrorists waved around guns and even took a few shots.

On the ground floor, Nat and Wanda were fighting back and trying to help anyone they could. You sent small metal orbs that hovered around you to shield a small group of bystanders from bullets. The action caused the attention to be moved to you. You duck behind the concrete railing as they start to shoot.

“Keep them distracted.” Nat said as she started to form a plan. “If you can get them all on the stairs we can take them out in one fell swoop.” 

“I can do that but I’ll need help, Wanda can you get on the stairs behind them?” 

“Just say when.” Wanda answers. 

You peep over the railing just enough to see below again. The huge sculpture that laid on its side was made up of glass, wood and metal rods. You could work with that but first you concentrate on the guns the group you’re fighting has. The muzzle of the guns closes so that they can’t be used.

“Their guns are useless now. It should give you an advantage.” You say through comms. “Wanda, I want you on those stairs in two minutes. Keep them in place. Nat, get everyone you can out.” 

They both confirm and you count down before popping up and running towards the top of the stairs. Some of them try to fire but their guns malfunction and just explode in their hands. Just as that happens Wanda takes her position, distracting the group while you begin to move the metal rods, bending and shaping them to your will until you manage to capture every single person that was part of the terrorist group. 

When everything was said and done, you, Nat and Wanda managed to save a lot more people that were hiding within the building. The group that had tried to sabotage the Summit was stopped just in time. With your part of the work done you headed back to the jet. 

“You know if we hurry we can still do some of the things we planned.” Wanda says as she buckled herself in. 

“And if we do our mission report now we can technically take Monday off.” 

“Well what are we waiting for ladies? Let’s get the rest of this girl’s weekend started.” You say as you grab your Avenger designated laptop and start typing away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were laughing at something Wanda said as you made your way to the large living room. As you sat down the men all walked in looking battered, bruised and tired. They dragged their feet and collapsed on the first seat they could. The last person to enter the room was Bucky. He scanned the room until he saw you and the tiredness he had disappeared. You involuntarily smiled when you made eye contact. Bucky made his way toward the empty seat next to you. 

“Hey.” You greet him when he plops down next to you. 

“Hey, how was your weekend?”

“Nothing special,” you look over at Wanda and Nat who had joined the group. “Just stopped a terrorist group down in Brazil. No biggie.” 

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise, even Steve who had been talking with Clint and Sam about their own mission stops mid sentence and looks your way. Nat starts talking about the mission with you and Wanda jumping in and adding details.

“You should’ve seen Y/N, she took this huge sculpture and used the metal pieces to detain about ten guys. It was very impressive.” Nat says, ending the story. 

“Please, I couldn’t have done it without you or Wanda.”

The guys complimented the three of you on your team work. When you look at Bucky he has a soft smile and pride in his eyes directed your way. 

“What?” You ask him. 

“Nothing. You just always say you’re afraid to use your abilities but you did good. You saved people.” Bucky smiles again. “You should be proud.”

You dip your chin to hide how flustered you feel.

“Anyway, it was good to see you boys but we are just heading out.”

“Where are you going?” Sam sits up and starts to put on his best pouty face in hopes of getting invited. 

“Sorry Sammy but it’s a girls weekend.” Wanda informs them and grabs your hand to pull you up with her. “Don’t wait up.”

You start laughing when all of them begin to explain why inviting them would be better. As you head out you look over your shoulder at Bucky who looks like a lost puppy, already missing your presence. Wanda pulls you along though. Nat stays behind and watches you before turning to Bucky. She rolls her eyes and sighs when Bucky gets up and starts walking out of the room. Just as he’s about to walk past her, she speaks up.

“Fine you guys can come. We’ll still go ahead and get enough tables.” She announces and turns to Bucky. “I’ll even make sure you get the seat next to Y/N. But you should make a move soon Barnes. She isn’t going to wait forever.”

Bucky watches her walk away and smiles. All he wanted to do since leaving for this last mission was to come back and see you. Now he’d at least get to hang out with you. He didn’t care that your girl’s weekend was ruined.

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[ghostlyfleur]

𝐦𝐨'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬

♡

it’s been my lifelong dream to live in a lighthouse.

i once read a one direction fic when i was thirteen or something where the reader lived in a lighthouse and i’ve been obsessed with the idea since.

tried to find a bucky barnes x reader or a steve harrington x reader that involved a lighthouse at all, but sadly… nothing.

imagine a fluffy mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers with a shy!luna lovegood!reader where she takes care of a lighthouse and lives there with a big dog?

imagine if she has some sort of power, like she can talk to animals or control elements? so there’s always many animals running/flying around the lighthouse.

she’s lonely but sunshine-y, easily excited by things, soft and gentle and kind, entirely inexperienced and very oblivious of bucky/stevie’s feelings for her.

she’s handy with knives, knows self defense, (((in my madd au the lighthouse is by the winchester’s bunker from spn so she’s a hunter too.))) maybe the men of letters used the lighthouse for something in the forties?

just a sweet, giggly, shy girl who dresses a bit funny sometimes, lots of oversized clothing, loves animals and flowers, is a ray of sunshine despite the hardships of being a hunter, and somehow gets entangled either with steve and the upside down, or bucky and the avengers.

*sighs dreamily*

i’ve added an attached lighthouse to my main maladaptive daydreamer alternate universe that i switch between steve harrington and bucky barnes as love interests, but is always an spn au.

i know i wont write it ‘cause i have neither time nor patience, much less talent, but…

thoughts?

[purifiedclitoris69]

never gets old 🤭🤭

Natasha Romanoff X Reader - FIVE FEET WORTH OF PROBLEMS

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X Super Soldier Reader

Synopsis: Natasha isn’t the tallest member of the team which leads to her needing help sometimes (for clarity this is based on MCU Nat when she is just little and I’ve made the reader a super soldier simply to be more inclusive cause we’re not all 6 feet tall)

Warnings: language

Words: 1435

(1 ft)

One of the things you’d noticed about Natasha from the word go was her stubbornness. Especially when it came to asking for help. She was a firm believer that if something needed doing, there was no reason she couldn’t do it herself. Even so, you couldn’t help but laugh at some of the situations she tried to handle by herself.

For example when you walked into the kitchen one morning and saw Natasha straining to reach the ceiling from a set of step ladders, you couldn’t hold in a small chuckle as you went to pour a coffee.

“Need a boost?” you joked, grinning up at the other woman over the rim of your mug.

Natasha didn’t seem in the mood for your humour, shooting you a quick glare before continuing to try and reach upwards, “This damn lightbulb has been out for three days now and not one of you idiots has had the inclination to change it.”

“I hadn’t noticed.” you stated, taking a swig of your drink before placing it down and stepping closer so you were able to look up at the other woman, “You’re never going to reach.”

“Shut up.” shot back Natasha, huffing out a growl of frustration and standing as tall as she possibly could on her tip toes, “Why in the hell have we got the shortest step ladders in the world when the ceilings are this high?!”

You laughed, seeing Natasha’s frustration getting the better of her as you gestured for her to move, “Come on before you break your neck, let me do it.”

“If you were going to do it you would have done it by now!” snapped Natasha, “I can do it.”

“Okay but I mean, clearly you can’t.” you teased, not in the least bit put off by Natasha’s blatant irritation. Seeing she wasn’t going to move from the step ladders, you hopped up onto the kitchen counter beside her and stood up straight. The counter was about the same height as the ladders but you were still head and shoulders above the other woman as you reached up with ease and unscrewed the lightbulb.

The fact you had not only made it look so effortless but had also done it in a matter of seconds only seemed to annoy Natasha further, her jaw working as she narrowed her eyes in your direction, “And yet you still couldn’t be assed doing it three days ago?”

“Like I said,” you started, holding your hand out as Natasha begrudgingly slapped the spare bulb down into your palm so you could reach up and put it in place, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Sorry I didn’t realise you suffered from blindness.” grumbled Natasha sarcastically as she made her way down from the ladders, “My condolences.”

Even with the snappy attitude from the other woman, you had to grin back at her, “I think the words you’re looking for are, thank you for your help.”

“Kiss my ass.” muttered Natasha, folding up the ladders and making her way back out of the room.

Hopping down from the counter you shouted after her, “Any time.”

You just about caught the rude finger gesture she sent your way before she disappeared down the hallway.

(2 ft)

The next time you had to help Natasha you found her much more accepting of your assistance; seeing her in the gym one evening and staring between the punching bag on the ground and then back up at the hook on the ceiling with a frown.

You had to smile, seeing the other woman obviously trying to figure out a way to get the equipment where she needed it but unable to find a solution. “Seems I’m always in the right place at the right time these days.”

Turning to see who had joined her, Natasha folded her arms and tilted her head with a small smile, “I suppose you are, yes.”

You walked over to join her, bending down to grip the chain at the top of the punching bag before lifting it carefully towards the ceiling and clipping it into place. Natasha watched intently as you did so, her eyes drawn to the flex and strain of the muscles in your arm with the action. Instinctively she swallowed, feeling a small lump in her throat and a dryness to her mouth that she hadn’t been prepared for. Of course it was no secret that you were enhanced but she couldn’t deny it was impressive to see an example of your strength. Especially in such close proximity.

Turning back from the punching bag, you didn’t fail to notice the way Natasha’s eyes were focused on you and the slight flush to her skin. You broke out into a smirk, flashing the red head a wink for good measure as you gestured to one of the corners of the gym, “I’ll be just over there if you need help with anything else.”

(3 ft)

Getting a knock at your door one afternoon, you weren’t particularly surprised to see Natasha on the other side of it. Granted you weren’t the closest of friends but you felt like your relationship with the other woman had been improving over the last few weeks. There was a sort of ease that had settled over the pair of you, finding it almost effortless to be in one another’s company. Comfortable silences were becoming more common and playful, flirtatious banter had quickly replaced the usual indifference towards one another.

Despite not being surprised to see the other woman, you couldn’t help but be a little shocked by what came out of her mouth when you answered the door.

“Can you come and help me with something?”

Leaning against the door frame, you thought for a moment and shot the red head a playful smile, “Is there a please in there somewhere?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “Please.”

“Lead the way.”

Following behind Natasha, you were even more surprised when she took you to her bedroom, having never seen the other side of her door before. The room was predictably nice and tidy, not to mention tastefully decorated.

Natasha didn’t give you much time to take in your surroundings, clearing her throat to get your attention, “I um ... I need this mirror hanging.”

You looked down to where the red head was pointing, seeing a large, tall mirror leaning against one of the walls, “And what? It’s too heavy?”

“I can’t reach.” admitted Natasha, her words quiet as if she didn’t want anyone to actually hear what she’d said as she motioned over to the far wall, “It’s like a six foot mirror and well ... that’s a little out of my reach. Plus, yeah, it’s really heavy so I didn’t exactly want to be stood on a ladder with it.”

Nodding your head in understanding, a small smirk made it’s way across your face, “So you, Natasha Romanoff, need my help?”

“Don’t be an ass about it, this is exactly why I didn’t want to ask one of the boys.” grumbled Natasha.

Laughing quietly, you gave her shoulder a small squeeze as you walked over towards the mirror and assessed what needed to be done, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

Natasha settled herself on the edge of the bed, neither one of you speaking as you worked silently at setting the brackets up on the wall and making sure everything was in place. You could feel her eyes on you the whole time, occasionally looking up from what you were doing and receiving a small smile in return.

When you were finally finishing up, you had to admit that Natasha wasn’t lying and the mirror was indeed very heavy. You huffed out a breath as you lifted it into place, straining slightly as you tried to get it level and hook it onto the brackets, “Jesus Nat, what’s it made of? Solid gold? This thing weighs a tonne.”

She chuckled at your comment, laying down on her side and resting her head on her hand as she watched you hang the mirror in place, “But you make it look so effortless.”

“Oh so that’s what this is,” you laughed, turning to face the other woman, “You just wanted to check me out.”

Natasha clutched a hand to her chest in mock horror, “Me? I would never.”

“Sure you wouldn’t.” you teased, bending down to scoop up the few tools you’d used and placing them on the bedside table next to Natasha. Giving the other woman a grin, you stepped close enough that you could gently pat the side of her cheek a couple of times, “Don’t worry though, I don’t mind checking you out too if that makes us even.”

For a moment it looked like she didn’t know what to say, her eyes narrowing slightly as if she was trying to work out if you were being sincere. By the time she spoke you had already stepped back and made your way towards the door.

“Not sure I have nearly as much to show off about.”

Turning back to face her for a moment, you let your eyes trail over her body slowly and purposefully before looking back at her with a smirk, “Oh I would have to disagree with that.”

(4 ft)

“What you making?”

Your words seemed to startle Natasha, the spoon she was stirring her food with dropping against the side of the pan with a clatter as she gasped and turned to glare at you, “It’s rude to sneak up on people!”

“Well I didn’t exactly sneak.” you chuckled, walking around the breakfast bar to stand beside the other woman and peer down at the stovetop, “So what is it?”

Natasha shrugged, “Just pasta.”

“How exciting.”

Pushing you in the arm playfully at your tone, Natasha gave you a mock scowl, “I was going to offer you some but now I’m not so sure.”

“Well how do I even know you’re a good cook, it might be awful.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, dipping the spoon into the sauce in the pan and scooping some of it up. She held her free hand underneath it so not to drop any as she moved the spoon towards your mouth and raised her eyebrows expectantly, “Open up then.”

Looking down at the food cautiously, you blew on it for good measure before opening your mouth and taking the sauce from the spoon. You swallowed, running your tongue over your lips as you assessed the taste before pulling a face, “Needs more salt.”

“I know.” sighed Natasha, stirring the sauce again with a defeated slump to her shoulders, “But it’s in the top cupboard.”

At her words you had to laugh, running your hand over her back comfortingly, “Aww can you not reach the salt?”

“Don’t be a dick.” scolded Natasha, hitting you gently in the stomach but not shying away from your touch on the small of her back.

Reaching up to the cupboard above her head, you pulled it open and looked inside to retrieve the salt, earning you a quiet thank you from Natasha in return. It didn’t pass either of you by that even as the pair of you had settled into silence and the red head busied herself with adding the salt to her food, your hand remained on Natasha’s back, your thumb occasionally brushing delicately over her shirt.

The fact she seemed to enjoy the contact, almost leaning back into you to get closer, made your next words fall easily from your lips.

“How about for dinner tomorrow, I take you out somewhere?”

Natasha paused her stirring of the pan for just a second, your question taking her a little by surprise. You both knew that things had been leading this way, with every day that went by you seemed to be getting closer. The flirting, subtle touches and lingering stares were common place now and it was no secret that you were both clearly attracted to one another. Natasha supposed she just hadn’t expected you to ask her so casually and boldly. Still, she couldn’t deny it was what she wanted.

“Okay. I’d like that.”

(5 ft)

“This was nice.” offered Natasha, her arm slipped in to link with yours as you walked through the doors and back into the compound.

You nodded, tilting your head to look at her with a smile, “It was.”

“Thank you for dinner.”

Walking the red head down the corridor towards her room, you shrugged nonchalantly, “Thank you for joining me.”

The rest of the walk was silent until you reached Natasha’s door, the other woman reluctantly removing her arm from yours and taking a step back, “Next one’s on me.”

“Next one?” you asked with a grin.

Natasha nodded her head, reaching forward to smooth her hand over the front of your shirt, “If you want there to be a next one.”

“I think I could handle that.” you joked, bringing your hand up to join Natasha’s and brushing your thumb over the top of it.

The two of you stood in silence for a few moments, a small smile on your face as you simply enjoyed being in one another’s company for a little while longer.

Natasha smile widened as she watched your line of sight drop for just a second to her lips, now certain enough that you were probably thinking the same thing that she was. Giving you a playful grin, she took a step closer, “You know I would kiss you but, you’re a bit out of my reach.”

With a small laugh, you nodded your head slowly and reached down to cup the side of her jaw with your hand, “How about I come down to your level for once?”

Allowing you to tug her closer, Natasha smiled into the kiss as you ducked your head and brought your lips together. Neither one of you felt the need to rush or deepen it, happy to move your lips slowly together as her hands came to rest around your waist and your fingers brushed the side of her cheek. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, but when you pulled back you were pleased to see that Natasha looked just as happy as you felt. Giving her hand a final squeeze, you nodded to the door behind her, “Go on, get inside before I change my mind and don’t let you leave.”

Laughing at your comment, Natasha reached up to grip the back of your neck and pulled you back down to her level so that she was able to press a kiss to your cheek, “You know, I see a lot of leaning down in your future.”

“Honestly? I really don’t mind.”

[purifiedclitoris69]

Some Place Safe

Natasha Romanoff x Supersoldier!R

Warnings: Angst, Alluded SA, Violence, ETC

Summary: You were raised to be a weapon. Loving her was the only thing they didn’t teach you to survive. She escaped. You let her. And you never planned to follow. (Heavily inspired by sinners LOL)

You were born in the shadow of war—an accident, a consequence of two operatives colliding in the chaos of a mission. Your mother didn’t live long enough to hold you. You never knew her name. You never knew your own.

They took you in—not out of mercy, but out of opportunity.

The Red Room didn’t raise children. It raised weapons. You were placed in a second-tier orphan program, a quieter project—off the books, away from the widows. They didn’t dress you in black leather or teach you seduction. They taught you obedience. Stillness. Fear.

You learned not to cry by the time you were three. Every moment of comfort was conditional. Every word of praise was a tool. You were nothing more than a blank slate with muscle and reflex. You were tested, shaped, punished, refined. They didn’t want loyalty. They wanted control.

By the time you were ten, you could speak five languages, disappear in any crowd, and kill with a pencil. But you still didn’t know your name. They made sure of that.

When the Red Room joined hands with HYDRA, they sent you away—one of a few deemed stable enough to be "enhanced." You remember the cold first. The facility buried beneath snow and silence. The needles came next. Then the pain. Then the darkness.

HYDRA took what the Red Room started and broke it open. They injected you with a serum they said would make you strong. Faster. Better. But all it did was blur the line between survival and violence.

Your body changed. So did your mind.

They didn’t need to train you anymore. They just conditioned you. Trigger words, electric shocks, hallucinations—it all became routine. Every memory was wiped clean. Every hesitation was punished. You weren’t supposed to feel anything. Just kill and return.

And you did.

Over and over, you painted the world red for masters who never told you why. They didn’t call you by a name. They called you Asset. Subject. Spectre.

Until one day—you met her.

You were sixteen. Back in the Red Room, temporarily removed from your HYDRA assignments. The widows in the 14–15 age bracket needed oversight. “Instruction,” they called it. But you knew what it really was. A test.

A test for them—and a reminder for you.

Your handlers said no one would be more efficient, more ruthless, more capable than you. Two rounds of serum had ensured it. Bones reinforced. Reflexes sharpened to an unnatural edge. Pain meant nothing to you anymore. And if it did—you never showed it.

Madam B led the drill, standing beside you with her arms folded and her voice like a knife. “The enemy is smarter. Stronger. Faster. You do not overpower them. You dismantle them.” You stood still, hands folded behind your back, eyes scanning the group. Ten girls. Uniforms crisp, eyes cold. And then one was escorted in late.

Her.

Natalia Alianovna Romanova.

You knew what she was before the handler said her name. The way she walked, the way her jaw tensed, the flicker of calculation behind her gaze. You knew where she’d come from. Who she’d been with. You could smell it on her—pain, gasoline, cheap cologne, blood.

You’d lived it.

Something flickered in your chest. Recognition? Disgust? Curiosity? It passed before you could name it.

“Let’s begin,” Madam B said sharply.

You moved to the center of the room on instinct, like muscle memory. You weren’t thinking. That wasn’t your job. You were the lesson. They were the students.

The first widow came fast—predictable, linear. You sidestepped her and slammed her into the mat with a single twist of your hip. The second tried to sweep your legs. You jumped, drove your heel into her shoulder, dislocating it. Another got bold, locking her legs around your neck in a textbook chokehold. You slipped out of it in half a breath, kicked her ribs hard enough to hear the crack. An elbow hit the back of your skull. Your knee buckled from a follow-up strike, drawing a grunt from your throat. You caught her arm anyway, flipped her clean over your shoulder, and knocked the wind from her lungs with the landing.

And then she stepped forward.

Romanova.

She moved like you. Fast. Controlled. Measured. The other girls fought with desperation, with something to prove. She fought like she already knew. Every motion had intention. No waste. No fear. No need for approval.

She didn’t just want to survive the match— She wanted to understand you.

Her strikes were sharp, almost elegant. You blocked the first two. She ducked the third. A feint, a sweep—you stumbled, just half a step, just enough for her to see it.

The room watched in silence.

She came again, faster this time. You grabbed her wrist mid-swing. Her foot connected with your side. It stung—she was good.

Not enough to beat you. But good.

When you slammed her into the mat, she landed like a cat, rolled back up, and turned toward you without blinking. The others were still catching their breath. Some were still lying on the floor.

Only she stood with you.

You stared at her, breathing evenly. She stared right back.

Madam B called the drill. The other girls were dismissed. But Romanova was told to stay.

You remained too.

That was the first time you saw her. Not just a file. Not just a name. Her.

And somewhere—beneath the layers of numbness, the serum, the training, the triggers—You felt something stir.

You weren’t supposed to feel anything.

But she would become the exception.

From that day forward, she was everywhere.

In every drill, every sparring match, every strategy debrief. You weren’t sure if it was coincidence, punishment, or a new kind of test. But wherever you were, Romanova followed.

At first, it was friction. She questioned everything. Why the techniques were outdated. Why the conditioning was flawed. Why she was expected to lose.

You watched her get punished for speaking out—watched her grit her teeth through each consequence. But she never broke. She never stopped fighting.

You hated her for that. And—if you were honest—you respected her for it too.

When you sparred, it was always different with her. She didn’t try to overpower you. She tried to figure you out—where you carried your weight, how you breathed before a strike, how your body reacted to pain. She learned fast. Too fast.

You kept putting her down. But never easily. And never the same way twice.

The others grew afraid of you. Romanova never did.

One night, after a brutal joint exercise, the two of you were left in the mat room longer than expected. Bloody. Breathless. Silent.

You sat on opposite sides of the mat, both pretending the other wasn’t there. But you felt her eyes on you.

“You don’t enjoy this,” she said.

It wasn’t a question.

You didn’t look at her. “It’s not about enjoyment.”

She didn’t push. Just nodded once, as if that confirmed something for her. As if she already knew.

You didn’t speak again that night, but the silence between you felt… less like an empty space, and more like something waiting to become a conversation.

Over the months, your dynamic evolved.

You were still stronger. Still faster. Still something… other. But she challenged you in ways your handlers never anticipated.

She made you think.

During field simulations, the two of you started working together without being told to. Covering each other’s blind spots. Moving in sync. Communicating without words.

She never praised you. You never praised her. But the trust was there—in the way she never flinched when you stepped behind her, in the way you didn’t hesitate to back her up when she made the call.

Still, tension burned beneath it all.

You’d snap at her when she questioned orders. She’d challenge your blind obedience. You fought. You bled. You pushed each other to the edge and back.

And somewhere in all that chaos—You started to need her there.

Not as a rival. Not even as a comrade. But as something quieter. Closer.

You’d catch yourself watching her longer than you should. The way she wrapped her hands before a mission. The way her brow furrowed when she was working through a problem. The way she touched people like it was foreign. Like it might shatter them.

She was learning how to care.

And you—You were just learning how to feel.

One night, during winter drills in the dead cold, she caught you shivering beneath your gear. The serum made your body hard, durable—but not immune to the cold.

Without a word, she peeled off her second layer and threw it to you.

You didn’t thank her. She didn’t ask for it. But for the first time in your life, a gesture wasn’t part of a test. Or a manipulation. Or control.

It was… kindness.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

That night, you couldn’t sleep. Her face kept appearing in your mind. Not as a fellow operative. Not as a threat.

Just her.

And it terrified you more than anything they’d ever done to you.

Because if you let that wall crack, if you let her in—She might see who you really are beneath it all.

And worse…You might start to remember too.

But that wasn't in there plans.

You weren’t supposed to leave. But no one asked you.

It happened after a routine infiltration exercise—standard, controlled. You weren’t even armed. One moment, you were walking back through the frostbitten corridor of the Red Room barracks. The next, a needle was in your neck.

Your body dropped before your mind could react.

You woke up somewhere far colder. Darker. Underground.

No windows. No clocks. No names.

Just HYDRA again.

Apparently, you still belonged to them. The Red Room had only been borrowing you.

They said you weren’t done. That your body was strong—but your mind, soft. That there were still layers to burn out of you. So they stripped you down to bone and nerve and rebuilt you again.

More injections. More surgeries. Weights so heavy they crushed the air from your lungs. Shock conditioning to suppress emotion—any residual hesitation, memory, or attachment. They filled your bloodstream with compounds that ate away at your warmth. And they watched. Measured. Adjusted.

Until the version of you that had once flinched at kindness, that had once felt something in Romanova’s gaze—Died.

When you came back—months later, or maybe years—you weren’t the same.

The Red Room barely recognized you.

Your body was bigger now. Broader shoulders, thicker arms, deeper definitions all around. More power behind every movement. Your hands no longer trembled, not even slightly.

But the real difference was in your eyes.

Nothing in them.

Not fury. Not pain. Not longing. Just silence.

The girls whispered when they saw you. Some wouldn’t meet your eyes. Even the instructors seemed uneasy.

But Natasha—She wasn’t there to see you return.

She was gone.

You found out later.

While you were underground being gutted and stitched back together, she’d grown too.

They started giving her solo missions. Black ops. Quiet eliminations. Intel retrieval. Sabotage. She was rising, fast.

Faster than anyone expected.

You saw her name on the mission logs once. Just a line. Romanova, N.A. — Status: Completed.

You should’ve felt something.

But you didn’t.

Not until the first time you saw her again.

It was in the training compound. You had just come from the lab—still sore, your muscles heavy from the new modifications.

She entered in full gear, fresh from a mission. Blood on her knuckles. Eyes hard.

She saw you. You saw her.

Something flickered behind her expression. Shock, maybe. Recognition. But then her face hardened too.

You were taller now. Bulked. You had a presence that filled the room like a storm waiting to break.

She took a step toward you. Stopped. Looked you over like a stranger. Then said quietly, “What did they do to you?”

You blinked at her. “What they always do.”

Her jaw clenched. She looked away first.

Something cracked between you then—subtle, but deep. Like a frozen lake underfoot. Silent. Invisible. Deadly.

She was sharper now. More guarded. No longer the girl trying to figure you out.She didn’t try to speak again. Didn’t reach out.

And for the first time… you didn’t want her to Because some part of you knew: If she touched you, she’d feel it.

How gone you really were.

Ironnically, they assigned you together without warning.

No briefing room. No courtesy. Just your names on the same mission order, stamped with urgency, marked “Classified – Joint Operation.”

You stood by the helipad in the cold, snow clinging to your gloves, staring at the file in your hand. You didn’t flinch when her footsteps approached behind you—but something inside you shifted.

“Is this a joke?” Her voice was sharp. Older. It cut different now—refined, precise. She was no longer a student. She was a weapon fully realized.

You turned to her. Nothing in your expression.

“No,” you said. “It’s an order.”

She looked you over again, as if still trying to reconcile the you in her memory with the one standing in front of her. The serum-enhanced bulk. The vacant eyes. The silence.

“You look like them now,” she muttered. “Like the guards. The machines.”

You tilted your head slightly. “Is that supposed to hurt my feelings?”

She didn’t respond. Just pulled on her gloves and boarded the chopper. You followed.

Neither of you spoke for the entire flight.

The mission was straightforward: sabotage a black-market weapons trade in Serbia. Silent entry. Quiet eliminations. No civilian casualties.

Easy.

Too easy.

You moved like a ghost—silent, brutal, efficient. Taking out guards before they even knew they were dead. She followed, handling the tech, bypassing locks, placing charges. Clean. Professional. Cold.

But the silence between you roared louder than the gunfire.

At one point, you cleared a stairwell while she set a timer on the explosives. You glanced back at her—the flicker of red hair under moonlight, the tight line of her jaw.

There used to be warmth in the way she looked at you. Now, it was calculation. And something worse—disappointment.

You met her gaze. She didn’t look away this time.

“You’re not the same,” she said quietly.

“I’m better.”

“No,” she said. “You’re just… gone.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have one.

The hallway lights flickered. Footsteps above.

You both moved without another word.

After the mission—successful, of course—you were debriefed and dismissed.

But that night, in the Red Room barracks, she came to your door.

You heard the knock. You almost didn’t answer.

But you opened it.

She stepped inside like she was walking into a war zone. Her eyes scanned the room, then locked on you.

“You didn’t flinch when that civilian was caught in the blast radius.”

“They weren’t the target.”

“That’s not the point,” she snapped. “You didn’t feel anything.”

You looked at her. At the way her chest rose and fell. At the fire in her eyes.

“What do you want from me?”

She stepped closer. “I want to know if you’re still in there.”

Your throat tightened.

Then—softly, bitterly—you said, “Why? So you can mourn me properly?”

Silence.

Her hand reached up before she could stop it—just barely grazing your shoulder, hesitant. Her fingertips trembled.

You didn’t move. But you felt it.

Something broke inside you.

And you whispered, “You shouldn't touch me, Romanova. You’ll get hurt.”

She didn’t pull away. “Maybe I already am.”

You didn’t kiss. You didn’t cry. But something in that moment laid itself bare between you—too fragile to speak aloud. Too dangerous to name.

She left without another word.

And for the first time in a long time…You wanted to be seen again.

The next few missions are different.

She stops flinching when you’re too close. You start pausing before pulling the trigger. You cover her flank instinctively. She watches your back like it’s second nature.

You still don’t speak much. But the silences become softer.

One night, while tending a wound, she says, “You never told me your real name.”

You stare at the floor. “I don’t remember it.”

“Then tell me something you do remember. Something real. Something yours.”

You’re quiet for a long time.

Then, finally: “I remember… humming. I think it was my mother. Before everything else. Just humming.”

She doesn’t say anything.

She just reaches for your hand. You let her.

And that’s the moment you know—Whatever they did to you… she might be the one thing they can’t erase.

t happened late one night, long after curfew.

You couldn't sleep. Not because of nightmares—those had dulled into something quieter—but because she hadn’t returned yet.

Her mission had run over. You knew it wasn’t your concern. You told yourself it didn’t matter. But when the door finally creaked open and she stepped inside, bruised and soaked with cold rain, your heart did something you didn’t recognize.

It lurched.

You rose from your bunk without a word. Met her halfway. She tried to walk past you like always.

But this time, you reached for her wrist.

She froze.

Then her eyes met yours. And for once, there was no mask. No cold front. No assignment.

Just two ghosts standing in a borrowed room pretending they weren’t drowning.

“You okay?” you asked, voice low.

She stared at you for a long time. Then shook her head, slow.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I think I forgot how to feel something and still survive.”

You didn’t speak. You just stepped closer.

She leaned her forehead against yours.

And when her hands came up to cradle your jaw—gentle, trembling—you let her. No drills. No orders. Just warmth. Just touch.

She moved her arms to your shoulders pulling you into a desperate hold. You held her back.

It was the first thing that had ever felt real.

You didn’t sleep that night. Not because of fear. Because for the first time—you didn’t want to close your eyes and miss it.

You were in the mess hall the next morning when the alarm rang.

Red lights. Sirens. Door locks snapping shut. You didn’t even have to guess.

They’d seen it.

The surveillance footage. The shared room. The closeness. The disobedience.

You were ripped from your seat. She was dragged from hers. Not allowed to speak. Not even look at each other.

They took you to separate rooms.

They didn’t ask questions. Just pain.

Electric pulses to the spine. Icy injections in your veins. A boot in your back and a handler shouting:

“You are not human. You are not lovers. You are assets. Tools. You do not belong to each other. You belong to us.”

You bit down until your teeth bled.

But they weren’t trying to break your body this time.

They were trying to break what you’d built.

It took days before they let you see each other again. Weeks before they assigned you to a new mission together.

But in the silence of your quarters one night—when they thought they’d burned the bond out of you—she turned to you and whispered:

“We can’t keep doing this.”

You didn’t answer. Not yet.

“We’re ghosts,” she said. “And maybe we always will be. But we don’t have to haunt this place.”

You watched her carefully.

She leaned in. “I have contacts. Quiet ones. People who owe me. We could make it out. Maybe not far. Maybe not long. But free. Even if it’s just for a little while.”

You looked at her.

For the first time in your life, someone was offering you a door.

And you wanted it.

You planned it. Mapped the blind spots. The shift changes. The weak points in surveillance.

But the night came… and you didn’t move.

You stood at the exit.

So did she.

Neither of you said it—but you both felt it: That pull. That tether. Not to each other—but to this.

To the bloodstained corridors. The silence. The structure. The certainty of it.

It was hell. But it was the only hell you understood.

And maybe—maybe—out there, the world would be worse. Colder. Empty.

You looked at her.

She looked at you.

And slowly, quietly… she shook her head.

“Not yet,” she said. “We’re not ready.”

You nodded.

Neither of you turned away from the exit right away.

But you didn’t step through it either.

That night, you held her again. Not in defiance, but in mourning.

Because love, in places like this, wasn’t a rebellion.

It was a wound. And you carried it like everything else they’d given you.

Deep. Quiet. Permanent.

The final mission came suddenly. Too clean. Too perfect.

Natasha was to infiltrate a U.S. intelligence outpost under the guise of a defector. Get inside, get the data, extract herself. But you’d seen too many missions. You knew the pattern. You knew the words they didn’t say.

This wasn’t an op.

It was an opportunity.

A door. A rare one.

And for the first time—you could open it for her.

You stood by the projector as the handler outlined the objective. Your face didn’t shift. You nodded when expected. Said “understood” at the appropriate moments.

But when the lights dimmed and the others filed out, you turned to her—just the two of you left in the briefing room.

You said her name—her name, not her codename.

She looked at you. Confused at first. Then slowly—terrified.

You walked closer. Pressed a small drive into her hand. The one with the real data—hers. Proof of HYDRA’s involvement. Enough to earn her a chance. Enough to buy her freedom.

“Take it,” you said, voice low. “When the window opens, you run. Don’t look back.”

She shook her head. “No—no, we said we’d go together.”

You gave a faint smile. It didn’t reach your eyes.

“I don’t exist out there.”

“You do to me.”

You swallowed hard. “That’s not enough. Not this time.”

Her hands shook.

You reached out, steadying her fingers around the drive.

“You’re better than this place,” you whispered. “You always were.”

Her eyes glistened, and your throat burned with everything you couldn’t afford to say.

You didn’t kiss her.

You just let your forehead rest against hers—one last time.

A silent goodbye wrapped in the shape of a moment.

She did exactly what you trained her to do.

She got out clean.

The data hit U.S. intelligence servers like a bomb. Names. Coordinates. Project logs. Red Room locations.

And her? She vanished into shadow.

It worked.

She lived.

You watched her defect from behind locked doors, cameras feeding you the grainy security footage of her slipping past the final perimeter. She turned once—looked back.

You knew she was thinking of you.

But she ran.

And you—You stayed.

They punished you, of course.

You’d disobeyed protocol. Leaked sensitive intel. Let an asset go.

But you were too valuable to kill.

So they hurt you instead.

They locked you away. Sedated you for weeks. Ran tests. Reconditioned you until the edges blurred again.

When they were done, they gave you a new mission.

You accepted it wordlessly.

Like always.

But something in you had shifted. Not broken—but buried. Because now, no matter how many memories they wiped, no matter how many shocks they ran through your spine…

They couldn’t take her from you.

Not where it mattered.

Natasha Romanoff didn’t waste what you gave her.

She used your sacrifice like a torch.

She lit the Red Room on fire from the inside out. Cracked it open piece by piece—its secrets, its science, its cruelty. She brought down handlers and directors. Saboteurs and scientists. Anyone who carved girls into weapons.

And when she was done with them, she turned to HYDRA.

Not all of it. Not yet. But enough to make the world tremble.

And through it all—every raid, every mission, every sleepless night—she searched for you.

Files. Photographs. Ghosts of you in surveillance clips: grainy footage of a tall figure, a shadow slipping in and out of black sites with blood on your hands.

She kept seeing you. But she never found you.

They said you were a myth. That maybe you'd died. That maybe you'd broken entirely, brainwashed past the point of no return.

But Natasha knew better.

She knew what it meant when your body flinched in the exact rhythm of danger. When your jaw ticked before a mission. When your eyes—those goddamn eyes—flicked to hers in a moment of clarity, even through pain.

You weren’t dead.

You were still in there.

Somewhere.

she pulls the footage alone.

She'd rewatch the frame by frames. Zoom in on your face.

You’ve changed.

There’s no warmth now. No hesitation.

But the way you move—the way you look at the camera right before it cuts out—it’s you.

And it’s not.

The ghost she loved.

Now a killer set loose in a world she tried to fix.

Years had continued to pass.

Until the intel finally came. It was clean. HYDRA remnants were relocating prototype tech—illegally acquired Stark-adjacent hardware. Avengers were dispatched for containment.

It should’ve been a simple in-and-out.

Until you showed up.

It begins with Sam.

He never sees it coming.

He’s airborne, covering Steve’s flank, when something clips his wing mid-flight. Not a bullet.

A blade.

You appear out of the smoke—fast, silent, brutal. A black blur against a backdrop of chaos. You hit the ground and scale the debris like a phantom. Sam goes down hard, suit sparking.

Steve calls out—but it's too late. You’re already on him.

He blocks your first strike with the shield. The second knocks the breath from his lungs. The third slams him into concrete. He tries to talk, to get through to you—

But you don’t speak.

You just fight.

And you win.

He’s unconscious before he hits the floor.

Then comes Stark.

“Who the hell—” he starts, suit flying into position.

But he doesn’t get to finish.

You use an EMP blade—short-range, custom—forged in the black budget corners of the world. You slam it into his arc reactor, right below the clavicle. The suit collapses like armor made of paper.

He stares at you from the floor, breathing heavy.

“Jesus,” Tony mutters. “Who trained you—?”

Your boot slams into his jaw. He blacks out.

The smoke clears.

And Natasha walks into the aftermath like she’s walking into a graveyard.

She sees them—Sam, unconscious. Steve bleeding. Tony barely breathing.

And then she sees you.

Standing there with your back to her, blade slick with Stark’s blood, eyes scanning the horizon for the next threat.

You don’t turn when you speak.

“I was wondering when you’d show.”

Her stomach turns. Your voice hasn’t changed.

Neither has the way it makes something in her ache.

“Stop,” she says, gun aimed at your spine. “This isn’t you.”

You finally turn.

And gods, you look calm. Too calm. Not brainwashed. Not drugged. Just still. Centered. Like the world finally makes sense to you—for all the wrong reasons.

She hesitates.

“Tell me they did this to you,” she says, desperate. “Tell me they put something in your head. I can help you.”

You shake your head. “No one put anything in my head, Natalia.”

You say her name like a knife and a kiss.

“I chose this.”

Her grip falters. “Why?”

You step closer.

“I gave you freedom. I never said I wanted it for myself.”

That hits harder than any punch.

“I’m not broken,” you go on. “I’m clear. The world you live in now? It’s naïve. It lets monsters breathe because it's scared to kill them.”

“And you’re not scared?” she whispers.

“No. I’m what comes after fear.”

Your blade raises.

Her gun doesn't move.

“I don't want to fight you,” she says.

You nod. “Then don’t.”

It’s vicious.

You move like muscle memory and instinct are the only gods you answer to.

She holds her own—barely. Blocks your knife with her forearm, kicks your knee to destabilize, sweeps your leg, only for you to flip back onto your feet like gravity’s a suggestion.

She pulls you in recklessly and you slam her against the wall.

You’ve both slowed.

Breathing ragged. Bruised. Bleeding.

She’s knocked the blade from your hand. Neither of you has the upper hand now.

And still—neither of you runs.

She stares at you, hair stuck to her face with sweat and blood. Eyes glassy. Jaw clenched.

And then, finally—she breaks.

You’re both on your knees in the rubble of the mission site.

Bruised. Bleeding. Exhausted.

Your knife is somewhere behind you. Her gun’s been kicked across the ground. There are no weapons left now—only words sharp enough to kill.

And hers cut deepest.

Her voice breaks the silence, trembling but strong enough to reach you.

“Why won’t you tell me the truth?” she pleads, eyes locking with yours, glistening. “I was young enough to believe we’d find each other again. That you wanted to.”

You say nothing.

Because if you do, something inside you might shatter.

“I waited,” she whispers, and it cracks something in your chest. “I waited a long time…”

You watch her swallow it down—those tears, that hope, that version of you she carried in her chest like a ghost.

“But I’m grown now,” she breathes, straighter spine, trembling chin. “I’m good. And I know you never planned to stay.”

She steps forward.

Just one step.

“So why can’t you just say that?”

And now it’s your turn to bleed.

You want to lie. It would be easier.

But your throat burns and the truth is louder than your silence.

“Say what, hmm?” you rasp, almost bitter. “That I love you?”

She flinches.

You press forward, voice low, shaking, every word costing you a piece of yourself.

“That I think about you every damn day? That I saw you run and told myself I’d done something good—for once. That maybe if you lived, if you became something better, then everything I did would’ve been worth it?”

You pause. Swallow. You can’t look at her.

“I just wanted to keep you someplace safe,” you whisper. “And that was never gonna be here.”

“And it was never gonna be with me. Never.”

And she stands there—tears slipping free.

But she doesn't collapse.

She burns. Quietly. The way she always has.

“So that’s it?” she asks. “I was a mission to you? Something to protect and abandon?”

“You were everything,” you say, barely above a breath.

And you mean it.

Which is why you turn and walk away.

Because staying? Would destroy the last thing you did right.

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hi can you do a fic where y/n buckys fiancé who is also a winter soldier but has telepathic powers and teleportation abilities gets kidnapped and reprogrammed again and they have to fight her to snap her out of it and it ends with smut and y/n finding out she is pregnant with twins a boy and girl?

Forever After » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Fiancée/Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Fiancée/Enhanced!Female Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are supposed to be planning a wedding, but you get kidnapped and reprogrammed again. Not too long after Bucky gets you back, you two find out you’re pregnant with twins.

Warning: Fluff, little bit of Angst, Smut (18+), language, Winter Soldier!reader, pregnant!reader, enhanced!reader, HYDRA, kidnapping, sweet/dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, unprotected sex, praise kink, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Hey. Have any of you seen Y/N?” Bucky asks as he walks in the lounge room.

“Not since this morning. Why?” Steve says.

“Her and I are supposed to go over more details of our wedding, but she’s not answering any of my calls or texts.” He says.

“Her phone probably died or something.” Natasha says.

“Probably. I hope that’s all it is.” He says.

Meanwhile, you regained consciousness in the lab where you first developed your telepathic powers and teleportation abilities. You already know this couldn’t be good. HYDRA is the ones who tested those powers and abilities on you. Since you can’t call or text Bucky with your phone, you decided to try to send a signal to him by using your telepathic powers. You took a deep breath and gave it a try.

“Bucky, I’m in trouble. HYDRA found me and kidnapped me. Please hurry.” You said.

Bucky stopped in his tracks when he felt something. It was the signal from you, telling him that HYDRA kidnapped you and you need help. Bucky’s heart dropped and his eyes widened. He quickly changed into his mission suit and got his gun and knife.

“I’m on my way, doll.” Bucky says to himself.

You were tugging at the restrains to get free, but it was no use. They were too tight and there was no way you were getting out of them any time soon.

“You’re awake!” A familiar voice said.

You looked up to see the HYDRA scientist who tested on you. Your eyes widened.

“What do you want from me?” You asked.

“To reprogram you.” He answers. “I see you haven’t been using your powers and abilities to how I programed you.” He says.

“I’m not using my powers and abilities to do your dirty work anymore.” You say, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Not yet, but you will.” He replies. “Starting with your fiancée, Sergeant James Barnes who’s also known as the Winter Soldier.” He says.

“No. Please don’t make me do that!” You begged.

“Too bad. You don’t have a choice.” He says.

He sat down at the table across from you, opening up your file. Your eyes widened. You tugged at the restrains again.

“There’s no use in tugging at the restrains. You’re strapped down good.” He says.

You groaned and huffed in frustration, tilting your head back. The only thing on your mind is if Bucky is on his way to you.

Your head shot back up when the HYDRA scientist started reading the trigger words that turns you into the person you aren’t anymore… the Winter Soldier. You’re not the same Winter Soldier as Bucky was. You’re a Winter Soldier with powers and abilities.

“No!” You shouted as he continued reading the trigger words. “Please!” You begged.

You squeezed your eyes shut and clenched your hands into fists. No matter what you tried to do, you couldn’t get out of this. After he read all of the trigger words, your eyes glowed blue. The scientist smiles in satisfaction.

“It’s nice to know that those words still work on you.” He grins.

The scientist pushed your file aside and stood up, grabbing a piece of paper and the key to the restrains. He unlocked the restrains and took them off of your arms and legs. You slowly stood up in front of him.

“Ready to comply.” You said obediently.

“This man is your mission.” The scientist says, showing you a picture of Bucky.

“Yes, sir.” You replied.

“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute. I’m assuming you contacted him with your telepathic powers earlier.” He says.

You nodded your head.

“You know what to do when he gets here.” He says.

As if it were on cue, Bucky busted down the door. He felt relieved to see you. He immediately walked to you, stopping in his tracks when he saw your eyes glow blue and your signature grin form on your face. His eyes widened. He hasn’t seen that grin in a while and you haven’t used your powers and abilities in a while either. Bucky grabbed the scientist by his white lab coat and slammed him up against the wall.

“What the hell did you do to my fiancée?!” Bucky growls.

“Reprogrammed her for what she’s meant to do.” The scientist says, grinning evilly.

Bucky growls again and knocked him out with a punch to his face. He dropped him on the floor and turned his attention to you.

“Doll…” Bucky’s voice sounded calm and cautious. “You don’t need to do this.” He says softly.

“Don’t do what?” You asked, tilting your head a bit.

Bucky already knew this wasn’t going to end good.

“Doll, please.” He pleads softly.

“Doll isn’t here anymore. The Winter Soldier is though and she’ll like to have a little talk.” You say.

Bucky’s breathing got shaky for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Please don’t make me fight you.” He pleads.

“Too bad you don’t get a choice, Soldat.” You say, walking towards him.

Bucky cringes when you called him Soldat. He hasn’t been called that in a long time.

“You look scared, Soldat.” You say, playfully pouting at him.

“I’m not scared.” Bucky says.

“So if I read your mind, you won’t be lying?” You asked.

“No. I have nothing to hide from you.” He says honestly.

“Oh yea?” You raised your eyebrows. “What about a certain mission you did in 1991?” You asked.

Bucky gulped and his jaw clenched when you said that. You rose your hand up to his head so you could read his mind, but he grabbed your arm before you could.

“Stop it.” Bucky almost whispers. “I don’t want to fight you.” He says.

“Why? Are you scared you’re gonna lose?” You tauntingly asked.

“I don’t lose.” He says confidently.

“Then fight me.” You say.

“No.” He says.

You chuckled lowly before throwing a punch at him, hitting his jaw and catching him off guard.

“C’mon, Soldat. It’ll be fun.” You say.

“I’m not fighting you.” He says again.

“Ok then.” You say, shrugging your shoulders.

You opened a teleportation portal and stepped in it, turning around and waving at Bucky. The portal took you to a different room in the base. Bucky jumped in the portal before it closed, tackling you to the groan. You groaned when you hit the ground. He pinned your arms to the floor above your head so you didn’t try anything.

Bucky knows if he keeps denying you, you’ll keep provoking him into fighting you. He doesn’t want to fight you, but he has no choice. He thinks if he fights you, he might be able to break through the programming and get your normal self back. He might as well give it his all.

“You wanna fight, doll? Let’s fight.” Bucky finally says.

“That’s more like it.” You say with a grin.

You kneed him in his stomach to get him off of you. You stood you as Bucky groaned in pain. He stood up a few seconds after you did. You approached Bucky, tilting your head slightly.

“I know what you fear.” You whispered.

“I don’t fear anything.” Bucky says.

“Oh really?” You asked, putting your hand against his forehead to read his mind. “You fear that if you don’t get me to break through the programming, you’ll lose your fiancée forever and you won’t get you forever after with her.” You say, reading his mind.

Bucky growls and smacked your hand away.

“Stop it.” Bucky growls, gritting his teeth.

“Loosing your fiancée is your worst nightmare and you’ll slip back into your old ways as the Winter Soldier.” You say.

Bucky’s jaw clenched when you said that. He grabbed you, slammed you against the wall. You yelped in surprise.

“Shut up!” He shouts. “Never fucking say that again.” He says.

Loosing you is his worst nightmare, but he wouldn’t slip back into his old ways as the Winter Soldier.

“Did I touch a nerve?” You asked, tilting your head slightly.

Bucky put his vibranium hand around your throat, but didn’t squeeze. He just stared in your eyes, searching for any sign of your normal self. His hand let go of your throat. What he did next surprised himself. He kicked your feet out from under you to the ground, his eyes widening when you hit your head on the wall. You didn’t go unconscious so that’s a good sign, but you did have a confused look on your face. He didn’t want to do that to you. He just wanted the taunting to stop and for you to break through the programming.

“Doll, I-I-I didn’t mean to do that.” Bucky stutters, crouching down next to you.

“I-I’m fine.” You said softly, followed by a small whimper. “Can you take me home please?” You asked.

“Of course.” He murmurs, picking you up bridal style.

Later that day after you and Bucky got back to the Avengers compound, you two took a shower and put comfortable clothes on.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized in a whisper.

“You don’t need to apologize, doll.” Bucky says softly.

“Yes I do. I tried to use your worst nightmare against you and I brought up that one mission.” You say.

“It’s completely fine, doll. I understand. You weren’t your normal self.” He says.

Your eyes flickered down to Bucky’s lips. You leaned toward him, kissing him softly and passionately. Bucky’s right hand caressed your cheek gently. Your hands grasped onto his shoulders. He gently laid you back on the bed and hovered over you. His vibranium hand went underneath your -his- shirt. You shivered, feeling the cool vibranium against your skin.

“Bucky…” You say breathlessly.

“Yes, doll?” Bucky asks, moving his lips down to your neck.

“I want you.” You tell him.

Bucky pulled away from your neck to take off your -his- shirt, revealing your braless breast to him. He dipped his head back down, kissing your neck again. His teeth nipped at your skin, marking you up. He repeated those same actions as he moved his lips down your body.

Bucky’s hands gently caressed your curves. His lips pressed soft kisses down your body, stopping just above the waistband of your sleep shorts. Bucky hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. You lifted your hips so he could pull them down, pulling down your panties and shorts down in one go.

“My doll is so gorgeous.” Bucky murmurs softly, making you blush.

Bucky stood up, taking off his clothes. His cock is hard and leaking with precum. You voluntarily spread your legs. He got in between them, his hands gently rubbing the top of your thighs. Bucky leaned down, kissing you passionately.

Bucky reached a hand down in between the two of you, wrapping his hand around his cock. He stroked it a few times before lining it at your wet entrance. He slowly slid his cock in your pussy. Soft and satisfied moans left yours and his lips.

Bucky put his forearms against the bed on either side of your head, caging you in between his strong arms. You reached your hands up to hold his. You intertwined your fingers with his.

His thrusts were soft and loving. Your head rolled back against the pillows, enjoying the feeling of your fiancée’s cock inside of you. Soft moans of his name left your lips.

Bucky dipped his head down and kissed along the column of your throat, not leaving any part of your skin not kissed. A soft satisfied hum left your lips when his stubble scratched your skin. That’s one of your favorite feelings from Bucky.

“Bucky…” You say more in a whine.

“I got you, doll.” Bucky whispers softly.

“More please.” You begged softly.

Bucky increased the pace of his thrusts. His thrusts are still loving. You wrapped your legs around his waist, locking your ankles together against his back. Your eyes fluttered shut, enjoying the pleasure you were receiving from your fiancée.

“I love you so much, Bucky.” You said breathlessly.

“I love you so much to, babydoll.” Bucky whispers.

You managed to get your hands out from Bucky’s hands and gently grabbed his face, pulling him down for a passionate and hungry kiss. You two moaned against each other’s lips. Your hands found their way to his head, carding your fingers through his soft dark brown hair. Bucky moans against your lips. He loves it when you play with his hair in any way. Your fingers tugging on his hair urged him on. Bucky thrusted faster, his cock immediately finding that one spot inside of you.

“Fuck, Bucky!” You moaned.

Your moans are like music to Bucky’s ears. You tucked your face against the crook of Bucky’s neck. You kissed his neck and nipped at his skin, marking him up.

Bucky wrapped his right arm around your waist while his vibranium hand held the sheets tightly. He increased the speed of his thrusts once more. That made you want him even more. Your hands grasped onto his biceps, digging your nails in his skin and the vibranium.

“Fuck, doll…” Bucky moans. “Such a good girl.” He praises softly.

You moaned at his praise. You love it when he praises you.

Bucky’s right arm left your waist and went in between the two of you. Your hips jolted against his hips and his hand when you felt his fingers on your clit. His fingers rubbed your clit in circles.

“Oh god, yes, Bucky!” You moaned, throwing your head back against the pillows.

Your orgasm began to build up faster than you liked. So did Bucky’s. His thrusts became sloppy, but he regained rhythm.

“I can feel you getting close, doll.” Bucky said breathlessly. “You gonna cum for me?” He asks.

“You hummed and nodded your head in response.

“Cum for me, babydoll. I’m close too.” He pants, rubbing your clit a bit faster.

The coil inside of you snapped. You moaned Bucky’s name loudly as you came. Bucky gave your clit one last rub before focusing on his own orgasm.

“That’s a good girl.” Bucky pants. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He moans.

Bucky came inside of you after a few more thrusts. His thrusts came to a stop and he pulled out of you, laying down next to you. You moved closer to him, laying your head on his chest and putting your thigh on top of his. Bucky’s vibranium hand held onto your knee, rubbing his vibranium thumb against your skin.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” You murmured softly, caressing his stubbly cheek.

“I can’t wait to marry you too, doll.” Bucky says softly, kissing your hand.

———

You’re standing in the bathroom, staring at a pregnancy test that has two pink lines on it. You and Bucky have been married for a few months and you’re finding out you’re pregnant with yours and his first child.

“Holy shit…” You mumbled in shock, staring at a positive pregnancy test. “Bucky, babe! Come here!” You shouted.

Bucky ran to the bathroom as fast as he could, almost tripping over his own feet.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” Bucky asks frantically.

You didn’t say anything. You smiled widely and showed him the positive pregnancy test.

“Holy shit…” He mumbles in shock. “You’re pregnant? We’re having a baby? We’re going to be parents?” He asks.

“Yes!” You confirmed.

Bucky picked you up, hugging you tightly.

“We’re going to be parents!” He said happily. “Let’s go tell everyone!” He says.

Bucky held your hand as you two walked to the lounge room where all of the Avengers are.

“We have amazing news.” Bucky says with a huge smile on his face.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to you and Bucky, waiting for you guys to tell them what the amazing news is.

“I’m pregnant!” You tell them, holding up the positive pregnancy test.

Everyone cheered and congratulated you two, giving you two hugs.

———

“Would you two like to know the genders of your babies?” The doctor asks, looking from you to Bucky.

“Babies?” You and Bucky say in union and surprise.

“You’re having twins!” She smiles.

Yours and Bucky’s eyes teared up. Bucky leaned down, kissing your lips softly. Bucky looks in your eyes and nods at you, wanting to know the genders of yours and his twin babies.

“Yes, we would like to know the genders of our babies.” You tell her.

“Twin A is a boy and twin B is a girl.” She tells you two. “Congratulations!” She smiles, giving you and Bucky the ultrasound pictures.

You and Bucky had smiles on your faces the whole car ride to the compound. You two were so excited and happy that you guys had to tell everyone.

“Hey! How was the doctor’s appointment?” Steve asks.

“We’re having twins!” Bucky tells everyone, holding up the ultrasound pictures. “Twin A is a boy and twin B is a girl!” He says excitedly.

Everyone stared at you and Bucky in surprise and gave you two hugs, congratulating you two.

“Can I tell Steve the other amazing news?” You asked, whispering to Bucky.

“Go ahead, doll.” Bucky smiles.

Steve looks from Bucky to you, waiting for the other amazing news.

“Me and Bucky have been talking about it and we want you to be the godfather to our twins.” You tell him.

“Wh-What?” Steve asks, making sure he heard you right.

“You’re the godfather of our babies, punk.” Bucky tells him, patting his shoulder.

“I’m honored to your babies’ godfather.” Steve says, hugging both of you.

Later that day, you and Bucky went home and spent the rest of the night trying to come up with baby names for yours and his twins.

“I feel like the names we’re coming up with are too basic.” Bucky says.

“Yea.” You agree. “What about we name our son after you and our daughter after your sister?” You suggested, tapping your fingers against your pregnant belly.

“You want to name our babies after me and my sister?” He asks, tearing up.

You smiled and nodded your head yes.

“I would love nothing more than to name our babies James Jr and Rebecca.” He says, smiling widely.

“It’s settled! James Jr and Rebecca will be our babies names!” You say happily.

Bucky kisses you passionately. You two smiled against each other’s lips.

“I love you, doll.” Bucky whispers against your lips.

“I love you too, sweetie.” You whispered back.

Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, looking in your eyes with the look of adoration in his eyes. You two finally have your forever after.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[myinconnelly1]

All the Luck in the World Pt 18

Masterlist

Warnings: depression (General), anxiety (General), pregnancy, nausea, anemia, Valentina's manipulations, stress trigger (PTSD implied-but gentle)

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds x OFC (you)

Word Count: 1,002

Summary: With all her luck, Jinx has to wonder if it's good or bad. When she meets Bob, she starts to get her hopes up..

A gentle kiss pressed to your forehead, bringing you to the most delicate sleep.  Your body resisted waking and moving.

“I know you’re tired,” Bob murmured against your shoulder as he kissed you again.  “But I need you to wake up.  You need to eat something and drink something.”

You groaned, pressing yourself against Bob.  You felt that queasiness that had been haunting you for almost three weeks now.  Training, sleeping, and having people trying to push food on you, had become your life.  The idea of eating anything made you want to gag, and moving from the bed felt almost impossible all the time.  When you were out of bed, you longed to go back and take a nap.

“You haven’t eaten all day,” Bob whispered.  You could tell he was trying to coax you from the bed.  He knew that if you didn’t eat regularly you would be in the bathroom heaving, even if there was nothing left in your stomach.

“Okay,” You gave in.  When you opened your eyes, the reality of his words hit you.  It was dark outside.  You had literally slept the entire day away.

“I’m going to talk to Bucky.  You need to see a doctor,” He whispered against your hair as you sat up and leaned against him.  You all knew that the second you went to see a doctor, Valentina would be all over you.  She would have the excuse she needed to take you back to her compound and run any and every test that she wanted on you.  But Bob was right, there was something wrong with you.  You leaned on him, letting him take you out to the kitchen.  He handed you some crackers, while he put some peanut butter on a slice of bread and folded it.

“Hey guys,” Bob said as Bucky and John walked in from the elevator.

“Hey, it’s good to see you up and moving around,” Bucky said giving you a small smile.

“Actually, about that,” Bob said as he turned and gave you the mini sandwich.  You looked at it with mild disgust and contempt.  “I’m worried that something could be wrong.”

“Listen, we talked about this.  As soon as we make any move Val will be all over us.  And we won’t be able to protect you.” Bucky said, sounding very tired.

“I had a thought about that,” John said as he pulled something out of his utility pack.  “I think you should try taking one of these every day.  Preferably after you’re done puking your guts out.”  You grimaced at his words before forcing yourself to take a bite of the sandwich.  You put it down and took to proffered pill bottle that John was handing you.

“You think I have an iron deficiency?” you asked looking at the bottle and then up at John.

“Uh, yeah, Olivia would get real tired and sick like you are when she was pregnant, and they determined it was because of low iron.  It won’t hurt you to take them for a little while and see if you start feeling better.  It should work pretty fast too.”  He looked away from you and rubbed his beard in obvious insecurity.  You took one of the capsules from the bottle and swallowed it on the spot.  Bob handed you the sandwich you had put down and went to the refrigerator to pour you a cup of milk.

“You guys, we have a problem,” Yelena said as she came out of her room and flipped on the main screen. 

“What’s going on?” Bucky said as attention shifted to the next problem on the list.  She switched to a major news network, and you broke out in a cold sweat when Valentina’s face appeared on the screen.

“You’re safe,” Bob whispered as he moved behind you, and held you.  You could tell from the way that he was holding you that he was scared too.  His thumb rubbed small random shapes on your belly as he held you tight.

“Oh, for fuck sake,” John groaned when he saw the woman’s face.

“Director, can you tell us more about the breakthrough your team has had in regard to the new super-soldier serum?” the news anchor said seriously.

“Well, I would like to stress that these tests are still preliminary, but my team has made great strides, and we believe that we have created a new super soldier.  One that will be joining the ranks with the New Avengers.”  Her smile was fake as the light of it did not touch her eyes.

“What is she going on about?” Bucky asked looking at Yelena.  Both Alexi and Ava had come out of their rooms to watch the press conference.  Yelena shook her head as she actively bit her tongue.

“We believe that we have found the right formula to safely create a super soldier.  Our most recent test subject is stable and going through training now to safely and effectively use their abilities.”  Valentina continued.  “There will be an official press tour with the New Avengers in the next few days, where our newest member will be unveiled, but look to social media with updates about them as we drop clues to their inclusion with the team.”

“Director, we are almost out of time, is there any last-minute remarks or tidbits that you can reveal to us to get the hype started for our viewers?”  The reporter smiled in a practiced way.

“I didn’t think she wanted Bob to be in the public view?” Ava said looking at the others in confusion that was shared by everyone except Yelena.

“Our newest super soldier is the first woman ever to complete the training.  We are so excited to have this diversity.  For too long have women been left in the shadows of their male counterparts but no more.”  Valentina said.

“She’s not talking about Bob,” Yelena said.  “She is talking about-“

“The luck bomb,” John groaned, figuring out where this was leading.

[frownyalfred]

Just re-read your fic about Clark discovering that Bruce wears glasses, and now my brain is stuck rotisserie-chickening the thought of Clark starting to wear Bruce’s prescription for the “just in case” moment where B needs his glasses for something and doesn’t have them or they get broken. And B absolutely knowing about this, because of course he does, and just casually stealing Clark’s glasses off of his face and going on with what he’s doing while Clark bluescreens off to the side. It’s the utilitarian-enough-for-Batman version of the boyfriend sweater.

Imagine a frustrated Batman barging into a Justice League meeting, yanking a pair of prescription glasses out of Superman's belt where he keeps his secret identity clothes, and stomping back out to his office where he most definitely didn't accidentally just get his glasses broken by an over-eager Flash (sorry, Bruce) trying to look at his case files. No one knows exactly what just happened except for Clark, who can hear the continued apologies from three Watchtower levels down (I am so sorry, Bruce!) and didn't even know that Bruce knew where he kept his secret identity clothes (it's obvious) but is pleased because now he knows Bruce knows about the glasses, too.

[sincerelykimii]

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝

𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘙𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘹 𝘦𝘯𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘺𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘮, 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘊𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘈𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢, 𝘛𝘰𝘯𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴, 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘺𝘥𝘳𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦．

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝘌𝘯𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘥𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘷, 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴, 𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 (𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺， 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘦𝘵𝘤), 𝘭𝘮𝘬 𝘪𝘧 𝘐 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨！ 18+

𝐂𝐲𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝘈𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘩𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦, 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘤𝘦．

𝐄𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

Stomping through the snowy path, towards the Hydra base alongside Steve Rogers. You hated this man. You truly did. You hated how much you were drawn to him. You hated how much he got under your skin. You especially hated how much you, didn’t hate him. Tony assigned both of you to go on the mission together, it was no doubt you guys worked perfectly together but the bickering got in between that. He always had something negative to say, “C’mon keep up, you’re slowing me down.” he says, glancing back at you. You were only a few steps behind him, despite the cold not having an affect on you, you still grew tired from walking such a long distance. “Yeah, yeah.” you mumble catching up to him. As you approached the base you instantly felt something was off, the air seemed to freeze completely around the both of you. The sound of wind hushing stopped, an ambush. “Steve…wait.” you whisper.

Steve stops abruptly, his senses on high alert as he scans their surroundings. He can feel it too, an eerie silence that doesn't sit right. As he turns to look at you, his expression is serious. "What is it?" he asks quietly, his eyes never leaving yours.

The soft crunching of snow made your body tense up, your eyes meet his with urgency, “We have to go back, this doesn’t feel right.” You say keeping your voice hushed. You can feel the shift in movement around you, making your head spin in different directions. Steve's instincts kick in, mirroring your unease. He slowly starts to backtrack, his hand reaching for his shield on his back. "You're right..." He whispers, his eyes darting around the frozen landscape.

Suddenly, the ground beneath them erupts. the snow explodes around you two. Ice shards fly everywhere, narrowly missing you both. Hydra soldiers emerge from hidden tunnels, surrounding you. "Dammit," Steve mutters, pulling his shield off his back. He throws it effortlessly, knocking one soldier unconscious.

Your heartbeat picks up, the two of you are no match for the amount of soldiers surrounding. “Duck.” With that you send ice shards into as many soldiers as you could before grabbing Steve’s arm, pulling him behind a bush. “We have to retreat, there’s too many of them.”

Steve follows your lead, ducking behind the bush just as a barrage of bullets whizzes by where you were standing. "You're right," he grunts, peeking through the leaves to assess the situation. The soldiers are closing in, their boots crunching on the frozen ground. You nod trying to come up with a plan to leave safely. “When I say run, sprint as fast as you can.” You whisper, he tries to argue but it’s no use.

Your eyes contort to a glowing ice blue. shit. shit. shit. Popping up from behind the bush, you manipulate the ice below the soldiers, sending ice like shards through their bodies. “Run!” Steve grabs you, sprinting as fast as he can. You arrive at an old cabin. Steve kicks open the cabin door, pulling both of you inside the darkened interior. The old smell of wood and ash hitting your senses immediately. He slams the door shut and leans against it, breathing heavily. His eyes widen as he notices your ice-blue glowing eyes fading away.

"What the hell was that back there?"

You fall onto the old sofa, chest heaving. “Saving your ass.” you breathe, still trying to catch your breath.

Steve lets out a short, incredulous chuckle despite the dire situation. He pushes off from the door and strides over to the sofa, lowering himself to sit beside you. His gaze is searching, eyebrows furrowed with concern and lingering awe from the display of your powers. "Literally,"

There’s a few moments of silence, comfortable silence at that, before you spoke up, “We can hide in here for a while then head back to the quinjet.” You say, standing up, you open the heavy curtain on the window and your jaw drops. The snow completely covered it, “no…” you mumble under your breath. You try to open the door but it’s shut closed, We’re trapped.

In an instant, he's by your side, concern etched deeply in his features. He tries to push the door open himself, his muscles flexing with effort. It doesn't budge. "Trapped," he says grimly, running a hand through his hair.

Your jaw tightens, “fucking great.” you mutter, taking a seat back on the sofa. “Is your com still working?”

"Yeah," He pats his communicator, then presses the button. "This is Rogers. Anyone read?" Static answers him. He tries again, lower voice laced with worry. "Tony? Natasha? Anyone?" Still static. He drops down on the coffee table facing you, his brows furrowed. You groan knowing you’re really trapped now. “The snow should pass over, I can try to move it but it looks like there’s a lot out there, it’ll take hours.”

Steve nods, looking grim but determined. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he considers the situation. "Hours might be a problem. Those soldiers weren't far behind us, and they'll likely follow the tracks." He glances around the cabin, mentally cataloging potential weapons or defensive positions.

You nod, “I can cover our tracks, it’ll buy us some time.” Standing up from the sofa, you make your way over to the window once again. Focusing on the ice, you rise it a bit higher covering the foot prints.

Steve watches you work, impressed despite the dire circumstances. Once you've covered the tracks, he stands up and joins you by the window. He peers out into the blinding snowstorm, his breath fogging up the glass. "This storm is worse than I thought."

No shit Sherlock. “Are you cold?” you whisper, turning to look up at him. You can handle the cold, it’s practically pumping through your veins. But Steve? He can only sustain the temperature for so long.

"A little," He admits softly, his body language stiffening slightly, not wanting to show weakness. He's used to cold weather training…hell, he can sustain it for a lot longer than you probably could, but this storm is something else. He watches you, sees how unaffected you are by the temperature. "You're like a human ice cube," he jokes softly.

You smirk at his comment, giving him a playful slap to the chest before taking a seat on the sofa. “How long do you think you’ll last, till you freeze.” you ask, you meant in a joking manner but it came out a bit more serious than you intended. This is the longest conversation you and Steve had without arguing. Maybe it’s the predicament you’re currently in, not much room for arguing at the moment.

He sits down next to you, his gaze drifting to the window as he tries to estimate his endurance in this frigid environment. "A few hours." he says quietly, his breath visible in the cold air. Theres no source of heat in here, no fire, no blankets, nothing. He’ll be lucky if he can even go a few hours. He glances over at you, his expression, almost thoughtful.

You inch closer to his embrace, trying to provide some kind of warmth. “I know you would rather be anywhere but here…but this is the best option if you don’t want to freeze.” You mumble, scooting closer.

He tenses briefly, then relaxes into your embrace, wrapping his arms around you to share what little warmth he has left. He rests his chin on top of your head, inhaling the faint scent that's uniquely yours. "This is torture," he mutters softly.

You chuckle softly, “A couple hours, that’s all. Then we can get the hell out of here.” You whisper, wrapping an arm around his waist. His grip tightens slightly, pulling you even closer. He knows he should push you away, but the cold is sapping his strength and resolve. He rests his head against yours, his voice barely audible.

"And then what? Back to hating each other?"

You shrug in his arms, “That’s usually how it goes.” you mutter, You never understood why he hated you. The constant picking on you, the hushed retorts. You certainly don’t hate him, but god…does he make it hard to like him. He sighs, his breath visible in the cold air. For a moment, he's silent, mulling over your words and the irony of their situation. Here they are, stranded together in a freezing cabin, pretending to tolerate each other for survival.

An hour or so passes and you practically can feel Steve shaking in your arms. “Steve, you okay?” you whisper, looking up at him. His lip is quivering ever so slightly, and his face is flushed.

He looks down at you, his eyes glazed over and unfocused. "F-fine," he stutters, trying to hide the shiver that wracks his body. He knows he's reaching his limit, the cold seeping into his bones and sapping his strength. Before you could think, you straddle his lap facing him. “Just…relax.” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck, melting into his embrace.

The heat of your body against his instantly warms him, but the gesture catches him completely off guard. He sits frozen - literally and figuratively - surprised by your sudden closeness. His hands automatically go to your waist to steady himself. "What are you doing?"

“Trying to keep you alive.” you mumble into his neck, accidentally rolling your hips against his trying to sit comfortably on his lap, not realizing exactly what you just did.

His heart hammers against his chest as he realizes the position you've put him in. His face is pressed against your neck, inhaling your scent and feeling the warmth of your body. He can feel your hips against his, and it takes every ounce of his willpower not to react. You shift uncomfortably on his lap, hips rolling against his. You would think sitting on his lap would be a bit more comfortable, it felt like sitting on a brick.

He grits his teeth, trying to ignore the uncomfortable yet strangely pleasant sensation of your hips against his. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you close as he struggles to maintain his composure. "Stop moving," he mutters, his voice strained.

You can feel heat rushing to your cheeks at his words. You didn’t mean to…? “Sorry.” you breathe out, your breath warm against his chilling neck. He suppresses a shudder, not from cold this time, but from the feeling of your breath so close to his sensitive neck. His grip on your waist tightens almost imperceptibly.

"It's fine," he gruffs out, though his rigid posture suggests otherwise.

You swear you weren’t doing it on purpose, but couldn’t help shifting again, his hold around your waist getting uncomfortably tight. “You’re gonna squeeze me to death Rogers.” you mutter, rolling your hips against his once again.

His breath catches audibly in his throat at the movement, his usually controlled demeanor beginning to crack. "Would you stop-" But he can't finish the sentence, your movement has made something very evident through his layers of clothing. "Jesus Christ," he mutters under his breath. Your heart stops beating for a moment, is he seriously? “Steve.” you retort, pulling away from his neck to meet his eyes.

His eyes lock with yours, filled with an unreadable expression - a mix of anger, frustration, and something else he refuses to acknowledge. He swallows hard, his jaw clenching. "You're doing it on purpose," he accuses, his voice low and gravelly.

You scoff, resting your hand on his chest. Is he fucking serious? “I am not doing anything.” you retort back.

His hand moves from your waist to your hip, applying the slightest bit of pressure to keep you still. "Bullshit," he mutters, his face inches from yours. His chest rises and falls rapidly beneath your touch. "Do you even realize where-" But he stops himself, jaw clenched.

So much for not arguing. “Yeah? tell me what I’m doing, that’s supposedly on purpose.” Something in your tone changed, your voice was low, almost seductive. You slide your hand from his chest to the back of his neck, seeing the small hairs stand up.

His breath catches at your touch on his neck, muscles tensing. "You're- Fuck," he swears quietly, gripping your hip firmly. "You're sitting on my lap, moving around like..." He trails off, unable to finish the thought.

"You know exactly what you're doing."

Your eyes widen slightly, realizing what he’s implying. “You think I’m purposely trying to ride you or something?” you scoff, rolling your eyes.

His eyebrows furrow as he stares at you incredulously. "Well, what the hell am I supposed to think when your hips are basically grinding against-" He stops abruptly, realizing how loud his voice has gotten. Clearing his throat, he stops noticing a smirk creep onto your lips. you’re having an effect on him, and he knows it. Your eyes glance to the very evident bulge in his pants, before meeting his eyes once again.

His eyes watch your gaze flick downwards, his jaw tightening again. "Goddammit," he mutters softly, his voice lower than before. Your smirk making him suspicious. His eyes flick down to your lips briefly. "Are you-" He swallows hard. You cut off his words, rolling your hips against his with urgency. “Oh like this?” you retort sarcastically.

His eyes snap down to where your body moves against his. "Shit," he mutters quietly, watching your hips. "That's not an answer," he grits out, trying his best to ignore the sensation between his legs. "And stop moving," he adds sharply. Despite his efforts telling you to stop, You simply nod slowing your movements, but not stopping them.

Steve's nostrils flare as he takes a shuddering breath, fists clenching at his sides. "I said stop moving," he repeats, his voice strained with barely suppressed frustration - and something else entirely. His hips involuntarily jerk upwards, betraying his body's reaction. The sudden movement, catches you off guard completely. A soft moan slipping from your lips.

He freezes, his heart pounding in his chest as he realizes what just happened. His eyes snap back up to meet yours, seeing the soft, needy sound that escaped your lips. His gaze locks onto yours, the air thick with tension. "Don’t," he whispers, his voice hoarse with desire.

You stop your teasing, almost embarrassed at the sound that left your lips. “Sorry.” you whisper resting both of your hands on his chest, trying to steady yourself. His muscles flex beneath your hands, chest heaving. The word "Sorry" catches in his throat as he stares at your lips again, remembering how they just forming around that delicate moan. "Just shut u-" He catches himself, jaw clenching.

"Don't stop moving."

His words throw you for a loop, your brows furrowing in response hearing his low words. You roll your hips against his slowly, the friction feeling delicious. His eyes roll back slightly, head tipping back against the wall as he lets out a shaky breath. The movement is slow, but it's enough. His hips begin to move subtly, matching your roll with his own gentle thrusts. "Jesus Christ," he breathes, head still pressed against the wall.

His whispered words are enough to send heat straight to your core. You quicken your movements, grinding harsher against his hardness. He gasps sharply, one hand flying to grip your hip as his control slips. "Fuck, wait-" But his words dissolve into a low groan as you press against him more insistently. His hips buck up involuntarily, seeking more friction, more of that delicious heat rubbing against his aching cock.

Still grinding your hips, you lower your head catching his neck, leaving soft open mouth kisses along his jaw. His hips buck up hitting your clit perfectly, making you moan softly just below his ear. He inhales sharply, his body tensing as he feels your warm breath on his neck, those soft open-mouthed kisses driving him mad. His hips surge upward again, finding that perfect spot that makes you make those tiny needy sounds.

You wanted more, fuck that. You needed more.

“Steve…”

His name on your lips, broken and desperate like that, completely shatters his remaining control. One hand moves to grip your hair at the nape of your neck, the other squeezing your hip possessively. "God, stop moaning like that..."

You smirk, kissing just below his ear, softly nipping at the sensitive skin. “S’good Steve…just like that.” you coo in his ear.

His breath catches sharply as your voice, low and breathy, tickles his ear. He swallows a groan, realizing you're purposefully teasing him with words and touches. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he pants out, one eyebrow quirked despite his desperation. Just as the words leave his lips, his hips jerk up hitting your clit deliciously once again. “yes…!” you cry out.

A shudder runs through him at your shameless moan, his resolve cracking further. "Fuck, you're sexy when you're desperate," he growls, surprising himself with the dirty talk. His hands slide down to grab your ass, squeezing and guiding your hips in tighter circles against him.

Pressing a hand against his chest, halting his movements. You climb off of his lap, pulling your tights down quickly. His eyes darken at the sight, you swore he drool a little. He pulls you back on his lap, letting out a whiny moan, the thin lace of your panties being the only barrier between you two. He sucks in a sharp breath, his hands flying to your hips to pull you even closer, as if he can't get enough of the friction.

Making it apparent you couldn’t get enough, you lift your hips above his, hovering over his bulge. “Take them off.” you whisper, tilting his head up to look at you. His gaze snaps up to meet yours, filled with a heady mix of desire and surprise at your commanding tone. Without a word, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and slowly pulls them down, revealing your bare, glistening core.

“You sure?”

You nod, reaching down unbuttoning his jeans. Pulling them down just enough to release his bulge evident in his boxers. “Look at you…” you whisper, breath catching at the sight. His chest heaves with heavy breaths, watching your confident movements. The way you're teasing him, handling him with such deliberate care, drives him crazy.

"Don't look at me like that..." he warns, though it comes out more like a plea than anything else. "It's making me..." His words trail off into a low groan as his cock bounces free, standing proud and hard between his thighs. He's never been so turned on in his life, and it's all because of the way you're looking at him, like he's the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

Unable to hold back any further, you rub his head through your slick folds. letting out a soft moan in responce. A low, deep sound escapes his throat at the feel of your wetness against his sensitive head. His hands dig into your hips, urging you on though he knows he should probably tell you to take it slow. "Shit..." his head falls back against the wall, eyes darkening with desire.

You hum in approval before teasing his head at your entrance, The obscene sound filling the room. His abs tighten as he fights back a thrust, watching you rub his head against your entrance, making his imagination run wild with images of sliding deep inside you. His hands flex on your hips, trying not to take control. "Baby..." He warns softly.

Without warning, you sink down onto his cock. The blissful pain flowing through your core, causing a whimpered moan to slip from your lips feeling him stretch you out deliciously. You sit still on his lap, letting your body adjust to his incredible size. “My god…” you whimper softly.

His back arches slightly at the sudden tight, wet heat. "Holy..." He swallows hard, hands flying to your thighs to spread them wider. He watches where you're connected, his thick length slowly disappearing inside you. He can feel every little movement you make, your inner muscles tightening around him. Slowly, you began riding him, your body moving upward and downwards at a perfect rhythm. His breath catches in his throat as you begin moving, the sensation unbelievable as your velvety walls squeeze him tightly. He watches in awe, hands stroking up and down your thighs, before sliding around to grip your ass, encouraging your rhythm.

"Fuck... Just like that,"

You nod in approval, chest heaving. Your pace quickens slowly but surely, the sound of skin clapping against each other, wet noise, and the smell distinctly of sex filling the quiet cabin.

His eyes roll back as he loses himself in the sight and feeling of you riding him. The sound of your wet pussy squeezing his cock, the way your breasts bounce with each movement, it's all too much. He lets out a string of curses, his hips bucking up to meet your downward motion.

You tighten your hold around his shoulders, breathe warm against his neck. You kiss, bite, lick gently on the delicate skin, leaving dark marks, letting out soft moans and whimpers here and there. He groans at the feeling on his neck, his large hands gripping your ass tightly as he thrusts up into you. The combination of your soft sounds and tight pussy is driving him wild. He can feel his orgasm building, his sac tightening as he gets closer and closer. He can your walls tighten around his length, making him twitch inside of you,

“I know you’re close…let go for me sweetheart.” You whisper, your voice is low, whiny…seductive in his ear.

Your seductive words and tight walls prove too much, sending him over the edge. With a low groan that seems to rumble through his entire body, he bursts, thick ropes of cum pumping deep inside you. His grip on your ass becomes almost bruising as spikes of pleasure course through him. You’re right behind him, his hot seed painting your walls, sending you right where you craved to be. Body shaking with pleasure, as your orgasm crashes through you.

He holds you tight, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rides out his climax, filling you to the brim with his release. When he finally starts to come down, he collapses back against the sofa, you still impaled on his softening length.

You chuckle softly, through a heavy breath. “Warmer now?” you say, grinding your hips slowly, riding out your high. He chuckles back, his strong arms around your waist, his fingers splaying out on your lower stomach possessively. "Much warmer," He murmurs, his hips twitching up into you gently, not ready to slip out just yet.

Letting your body rest on his for a few moments longer, you finally lift off of his lap, his release dripping down your thigh. “Oh, fuck.” you whimper. He looks down at the evidence of their passion dripping down your thigh, his release mingling with yours. He reaches out to hook his fingers around your thigh, pulling your leg over his lap again, keeping you close. "Damn..."

“Still hate me?”

He looks up at you with a smirk, his hand slowly trailing up and down your thigh while keeping your leg draped over his lap. "Only when you're being a brat," he jokes, squeezing your thigh gently. His eyes soften as he meets your gaze, a tender look passing between you both.

You laugh softly, leaning down to catch his lips. After all of that, you couldn’t believe you didn’t kiss him sooner. He returns the kiss, his arms wrapping around you again as if he never wants to let you go. When you finally break the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours, holding you close. "I think I've been an idiot," he admits softly.

“Humor me, Rogers.”

He chuckles softly, shaking his head with a rueful smile. "Okay, smart-ass, maybe I've been more of an idiot than usual. Thinking I could hate you, when really..." He pauses, searching your eyes. "...when really, you drive me fucking crazy." He notices the subtle furrowing your brows,a confused glint shining in your stunning eyes. He swallows hard, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your thigh as he tries to put his jumbled thoughts into words. "You make me angry, you make me laugh, you make me..." He trails off, his jaw clenching briefly.

“Spit it out Steve.”

He lets out a frustrated groan, running his free hand through his hair. "What I’m trying to say is...you make me want things I shouldn't. Like this," He gestures between you two with his hand on your thigh. "I shouldn't want to kiss you every damn second." He looks at you with a conflicted expression, his blue eyes searching yours. "I shouldn't want to protect you, to make you smile, to hear your laugh... I shouldn't want to be near you all the time." He takes a deep breath, his voice dropping to a softer tone.

Your hands trail up his body, stopping to caress his jaw gently, eyes never leaving his. “Why do you?”

His eyes flutter closed briefly at your touch, leaning into your hand. When he opens them again, there's a vulnerability in his gaze that he rarely shows. "Because... because I think I'm falling for you." The words are barely a whisper, but they hang heavy in the air between you.

You crash your lips onto his, the kiss slower, messier, full of undeniable feelings. His hand moves up to grip your neck while the other pulls you closer, kissing you deeply. When you finally part, he rests his forehead against yours again, a soft chuckle escaping him. “Good, because I’ve already fallen.”

"God, you're impossible.”

[forestgoblinvibes]

could i be added to the shifter au taglist? pls 🫶🏽 (i’m enjoying it too much 😩)

Of course! As soon as the next chapters out I’ll add you to the tag list! Hopefully it’s within this coming week 😂😂