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trikruismybitch · 6 months ago

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Did I Cross The Line?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Yelena Belova x Kate Biship, MentionPast!Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

Warning: Domestic Violence, Violence, Angst, Implied Cheating

Summary: Y/n comes home after dinner and finds her wife home from a week long mission.

Word Count: 1.1k

Part Two

You walk through the door sighing, dropping your keys on the counter.

"Where were you?" Natasha asks voice husky

"With Yelena and Kate", You sigh again, you've been doing that a lot lately.

She scoffs. She narrows her eyes. It's dark but you can still see her. She's sitting at the counter sipping on a drink, most likely bourbon. Her backs slightly forward so you know she's had a few, not drunk, probably slightly tipsy.

"Listen, I'm tired and kinda tipsy. I really don't want to argue right now." You try to keep your voice soft but it comes out bitter anyways.

Natasha leans back in her chair, "I haven't seen my wife in a week. I come home she's gone and you leave no note, no text? And now when you get home at 2AM you just want to go to bed? You don't even want to speak to me?" She's angry you can tell by her voice even as she keeps tries to keep it even.

"You were on a mission Natasha, I didn't know when you'd be home. You have a phone you could have texted me." You're tired. Your bones feel heavy in your body, weighing you down, "Plus I was out with Yelena and Kate. It's not a big deal."

Natasha downs the rest of her drink.

"How am I supposed to feel, huh? You out with your ex doing god knows what?!"

You roll your eyes having heard this a few times. "My god Nat! I'm out with Yelena and her girlfriend! Kate and Yelena are dating now, did you forget that? And we're married! Kate and I have no romantic feelings for each other anymore, whatsoever!" You yell back "What you think me and Kate are having a quicky in the bathroom while Yelena waits at the dinner table, are you insane?"

Natasha stands up in anger "All I want is to come home and have my wife waiting for me! Is that so much to ask for?" she yells back

"You have to be kidding me! You're always gone Natasha! Always on a mission! I'm not going to wait around at home for you like a dog at your beck and call! I have a life too!"

Natasha scoffs, shaking her head and putting her hands on her hips "Did you forget that, that's my job! I have a responsibility Y/n! You knew this when we got married!"

"I'm an Avenger too 'Tasha, did you forget that?" You take a step closer to her "I go on missions but I don't make that my entire life! I have a life outside of avenging, I want to be able to spend time with family and friends!"

You huff out a breath "I can't with this Natasha. You have been absent from are marriage for months. Ever since the mission in Murcia," Natasha's eyes dart to the left but come back to stare at you. "You come home but you aren't present. You say you have training but i've gone to visit and you aren't there. So where have you been Natasha?"

She looks away from you not answering your question. You hesitate but ask it anyway, "Are you having an affair?"

Natasha's eyes flash to you, her crossed arms dropping.

She stares at you wide-eyes before they turn dark and angry, "How dare you ask me that! I have given you everything. We're married!" She defends herself.

"What else am I supposed to assume Natasha! You aren't here! You lie to me about where you're going! You take back to back missions! We haven't had sex in months! So you have to be getting it from somewhere else! 'Cause it sure as hell isn't me fucking you!"

"Unbelievable" she mutters, Natasha shakes her head and turns away.

"Are you serious? Don't walk away from me! You wanted to talk right?!" You go to grab her arm but the second you touch her.

It happens instantly. She clocks your left jaw and continues to attack. You block what you can but you're too shocked to properly defend yourself.

"Tasha, what are you doing!" you groan as she lands a blow on your ribs.

Natasha goes to strike your face but you block her. Grabbing onto her arms and locking them to your side so you can look at her. Her eyes are black and wild, her breaths coming out in heavy spurts and you know something is seriously wrong.

It all happens so fast. You got distracted and she used it to flip you on your back. Your head rings with the sudden onslaught of punches. Then you can't breathe.

"N-nat" you choke trying to break her grip in your throat. But she can't hear you. She stares down at you and her eyes are unfocused and you know Natasha isn't really there.

Your vision starts to go blurry with tears and black splotches clouding around Natasha's head. If you don't do something now you're going to lose consciousness. With all your strength, you're able to elbow Natasha's inner arm, loosening the hold she had on your neck. You slam your other elbow in the soft part of her thigh turning your body to throw her off you. You get up as fast as you can, left hand holding your neck, your right grabs the table to help you up. You take deep breaths, trying to regain your lost oxygen.

You turn to see Natasha sitting up from where you threw.

"Y-y/n....what-" she looks so shocked. She takes you in. You're leaning on the counter, you have cuts on your face as tears stream down your cheeks

"baby-" she chokes out tears falling from her eyes as she realizes what she had done "I-im so sorry" she reaches out towards you from her position on the ground yet even with the distance you find yourself flinching back, backing away from her.

You slowly start to inch away towards the door. Natasha starts shaking her head standing up "W-wait, i'm sorry. I didn't mean-" Your eyes go wide as she stands up quickly, too quickly, and comes at you.

You're scared. You never thought you'd be scared of her. That she'd hurt you. You shake your head and you run out the door.

"Y/n!" Natasha goes to chase you to explain. "Come back!" She needs to explain. She needs to apologize.

You run, heart beating rapidly as you hear her footsteps as she follows you. You bang on the door as loudly and fast as you can. You look around and see Nat round the corner, so you bang harder on the door.

The door opens.

You and Nat both yell.

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x fem!reader #fem!reader x natasha #female reader #y/n insert #reader insert #mcu #natasha romanoff angst #angsty

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yourkidinthedark · 8 days ago

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Coffee and Close Calls

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (She/Her/Hers)

Warnings: Smut-not very detailed. Dry Humping, Making out. Reader gets Robbed. Panic Attack (reader). Minor injuries.

Summary: You work at a cafe, and the highlight of your day is when your favorite customer—James—stops in. With recent break-ins in your area leaving you terrified, he gives you his phone number in case of emergencies, and one night, in a panic, you call him. You didn't know that the man you served coffee to every day would come to your rescue as the Winter Soldier.

Word Count: 4629

Notes: I could be convinced to write a part 2, let me know if that’s something you’d like!

————————————————————————————

The café was quiet for the first time that day. It was a Friday, and they had quite the track record for being insanely busy. Not to mention, the holidays were just around the corner. Christmas shoppers had been flooding through the door all day with flushed cheeks and so many shopping bags over their arms that they were hitting door frames and tables. The sun was just teetering on the horizon as the chilly December air nipped at the tree branches on your street. You had about an hour before you had to close up shop, so you began your list of chores to tidy the café. You emptied the coffee grounds, changed all the garbage bins, wiped down all surfaces, and made sure that everything was restocked and ready to go before the morning shift.

The jingle of the door made you internally groan. There was nothing worse than a customer coming in at the last minute, especially when you had started emptying the display case, storing away the pastries for the morning. You quickly composed yourself and turned on your customer service persona.

“Hi! What can I get started for you?” you asked before your eyes even fell on the individual in front of you.

“Sorry I’m so late, Doll. I got caught up at work.”

You recognized the man instantly as your favorite customer, James. He usually came in around noon, his order the same every time: a black coffee and a plum tart, slightly heated.

“James!” you said, discarding the fakeness in your voice and flashing him a wide grin. “I thought you had forgotten to tell me you were on a business trip.”

“Ah, no,” he said, smiling and running a gloved hand through his hair. “I had to catch up on a bunch of paperwork, and I lost track of the time, but I wanted to see you before close.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” your skin ran hot. “Catch me up. How was your day?”

“Long and boring, but better now.” He flashed you his signature grin, but his eyes held a look of exhaustion that told you he had probably forgotten to eat today. You poured a coffee into a paper cup and slid it across the counter to him.

“They work you too hard,” you said as he slipped the coffee from your grasp. “Sit, let me make you something to eat, on the house.”

“You’re too good to me, Sweetheart.”

—-----------------------------------------------

You remembered the first time he came in. He looked like he had just pulled an all-nighter. It wasn't a particularly busy day, so there was no line at your counter. You took in his blue eyes and disheveled hair, and you felt a little flustered. Cheeks tinged pink, you asked,

“What can I get started for you today?”

He hesitated, just looking at you as if he looked out of place or expected you to say something else. When you didn't, he spoke.

“Uh, could I get a coffee, please?” he asked, his voice low as if he didn't want anyone else in the café to hear him.

“Sure thing!” you said, adding a bit more sweetness to your voice. “Can I get a name for the order?” With the lack of customers, you probably didn’t need to get his name for the order, but your own curiosity got the better of you.

He froze, and his eyes widened. You noticed how his tensed shoulders eased slightly as he let out a breath.

“It’s James,” he said, a soft smile toying at his lips. He pulled out his card and paid for the drink.

“Alright, James, hang tight. I’ll get that started for you.” You began filling a paper cup with the house drip. “Are you from around here or just passing by? I don't think I've seen you in here before.”

“I, uh, just got promoted at work. I moved to the head office. But I am originally from here,” he said, cringing over his words.

“Well, congrats on the promotion!” you smiled. You tightened the lid on the cup, marking his name on it with a Sharpie.

“Thanks,” he said, sheepishly. “It’s... long hours.”

You bent down to the display case and picked a plum tart, gently placing it in a wax paper bag, writing on it with your Sharpie as well. You slid the coffee and bag across the counter to him. He looked at the little white bag, confused.

“A little ‘pick-me-up,’” you smiled, feeling your heart flutter a little as the leather of his gloves grazed your fingers. “I hope to see you around.”

He flashed you a wide smile. “Thanks, uh?”

“It’s Y/N,” you said, feeling a little flustered.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

His eyes scanned you for a quick moment as if he were committing you to memory. A small smile ghosted his lips as he left the café. Glancing down at his coffee, he noticed beautiful handwriting spelling his name like artwork across the lid. And on the paper bag, you wrote a simple “Congrats” with a happy face. He stopped in every day after that, completely hooked on you.

—--------------------------------

His soft voice brought you out of the memory as your hands worked on autopilot, making up a sandwich. “You have to stop giving food away; who am I going to get my coffee from if they fire you?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, shush. The owners will never miss it, and besides, you’d find another barista in seconds. This is New York; it's practically coffee paradise.”

You wrapped the sandwich in a bag and grabbed your trusty Sharpie, writing a little message on the bag and finishing it with your signature smiley face. You heard the door to the café slam open. You let out a startled scream and ducked behind the counter. James turned on a dime to the door, all his senses zeroing in, ready to attack. Instantly, he relaxed and headed to the door to close it.

“It’s okay, Doll. The wind must have caught it,” he said as he made his way over to where you were hiding. You slowly rose from your crouched position and peeked at the door. Sure enough, you and James were the only ones in the café, a trace of the heavy winter air lingering.

“Sorry, I'm just a little on edge these days. The flower shop and the bakery next door have been broken into this week alone. I guess I'm just keyed up,” you said, completely embarrassed by your sudden outburst. His eyes softened as they found your terrified ones.

“Hey, don't apologize,” he said, concern lacing his features. “Would you like me to stay until you close?” You shook your head.

“No, no, it's okay. I couldn't ask you to do that. I'll be fine.” You offered him a genuine smile, touched by his offer.

“Well, here,” he said, grabbing your marker and a napkin from the counter, “if you ever need backup, this is my number. You can call me any time, and I'll be here. I will be in Germany this weekend, but call me anyway; I know a few people who will make sure you’re safe.”

Your heart swelled at the gesture. You took the napkin he handed you and inspected the digits.

“Thanks, James, really. I’d just hate to see you get hurt, though.”

He laughed, a disbelieving but yet charmed laugh.

“I promise you, I can handle a few burglars,” he looked at you earnestly. “But seriously, if you ever need anything, do not hesitate to call me. I’ll be there. I’d even tell the pilot to turn the plane around so that I can make sure you’re alright.”

You practically melted into a puddle on the floor. You pocketed his number in your apron and thanked him again. And with that, he left.

—----------------------------------------

Your weekend went by faster than you'd like. You spent the free time you had catching up on laundry and cleaning your apartment, and before you knew it, you were back behind the counter at the café. Another shop had been broken into over the weekend, this time directly across the road from your work. You tried to push the fear out of your mind by throwing yourself into your work. It was half past noon when you looked up from the counter to meet those familiar blue eyes.

“Germany looks good on you,” you said, taking in his new stubble and black leather jacket. He chuckled, looking down sheepishly.

“God, I missed you,” he said as you worked to get his order together, completely flustered. “Do you have a minute?”

You checked the time. “Yeah, actually, I’m just about to head on break.”

You quickly made yourself something to eat and slipped into a booth with James across from you.

“There’s something I wanted to tell you,” he said, fidgeting with his gloves. He had a look of worry painted across his face.

“What is it?” you asked softly. You could see that what he was about to say was hard for him to talk about.

“Do you remember about a year ago when the city was taken over by the void?” he said slowly, gauging your reaction.

“Yeah, I don't think I could forget that anytime soon,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “I was stuck in this trauma loop thing, and then something about the new Avengers stopped it, but now one of them was the one who caused it? It’s kind of confusing; I don't really watch the news.”

“Do you remember anything about the new Avengers?” he asked, looking at you for any sign of recognition.

“Uh, just what I’ve heard from customers here. They have a couple of super soldiers and an ex-Black Widow? I think the Black Widow is Natasha Romanoff’s sister, and one of the super soldiers is the Winter Soldier. Why the sudden interest?” James was looking at you intensely now, ignoring your question.

“You know who the Winter Soldier is?”

“Well, yeah, kind of. I mean, I know his story, but I don't keep tabs on the guy.” You looked at him closely, really closely. He radiated familiarity, but you shoved that thought to the back of your mind.

“So, you're familiar with his past?” he said gingerly.

“Yeah, James, what ar—” “Y/N, can you help me with the line?” your coworker hollered over to you. You gave James an apologetic look and told him to stay put while you helped tackle the line of customers at the counter.

Americano after espresso after cappuccino later, you glanced back to the booth where you and James had sat. The table had been cleared, and all trace of him was gone.

You thought about him all day. The conversation playing over and over in your head. Why did he have a sudden interest in the Avengers, and why was he trying to pull you out from under the rock you tucked yourself away in? In between thoughts of confusion lived the words he first spoke to you that morning: “God, I missed you.” That alone was enough to make you giggle like a schoolgirl all afternoon. You decided that you were going to make a point tomorrow to outright ask him what he needed to tell you and apologize for your coworker whisking you away.

Soon enough, the rush of people faded away with the last streaks of daylight, and you were closing up shop. You turned your key in the lock of the door to the café and turned on your heel, the bite from the winter air pricking at your cheeks. You were only a few shops down the street when you heard a quiet shuffling from the dark alleyway that separated your café and the flower shop next door. You spared a quick glance and saw two figures emerge from the shadows and walk slowly behind you.

You felt fear bubble up in your throat, but you tried not to panic just yet. You crossed the street quickly, trying to gauge if they were actually following you, and soon enough, they mirrored your actions. You rounded a corner, taking a sharp right, and they did the same. The panic set in full force now. You walked faster, trying to radiate false confidence but failing miserably. You threw your hands in your pockets to try and find anything that you could use as a weapon to defend yourself. That's when you remembered the napkin resting in your apron pocket. You had put James’ number in your phone, but you couldn't part with his messy handwriting scribbled across the napkin. You didn't hesitate; you pulled out your phone and pressed his contact. He answered on the second ring.

“Yeah?” he said sternly into the phone.

“I—uh—this—this is Y/N.” Your voice came out broken. His tone immediately softened.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“I—I didn't know who else to call. You said to call you if I needed help. I'm being followed, and I’m really scared,” you said rushed, tears hot on your face despite the cold night air.

“Where are you?” he asked quickly, and you could hear shuffling on his end of the line.

“I’m just a couple of shops down from the café, around the corner by the bank,” you whispered, praying that someone, anyone would turn the corner and help you.

“Y/N, I'm going to need you to stay on the line with me until I get to you.”

“O-okay, I’ll try,” you stammered, glancing back. They were beginning to gain on you, and you noticed an extra figure join them. “There’s another one.”

You had never felt so panicked in your life. The white-hot fear enveloped your body, and you felt the blood rush from your face. Your mind began thinking of all the possibilities that could happen if they caught up to you.

“Just keep talking to me, Doll,” he said as you heard another noise. Was that metal? You thought to yourself. “How was work?”

“It-it was f-fine. I'm sorry I got pulled a-away from you,” you said as you once again quickened your pace. The men behind you followed suit. Another loud clang came from James’ end of the phone.

“Don’t apologize. I panicked, Doll; I shouldn't have left.” You heard the sound of wind rushing through the phone.

You were just about to respond when you felt a hand grip your wrist, causing you to drop your phone. You screamed as the other two men swarmed you and dragged you into an adjacent alleyway. James screamed your name into the phone, but he was met with sickening silence.

You kicked, scratched, and fought back as hard as you could, but eventually, two of the men held you back as the third one approached you.

“You're a feisty one,” he spoke. His voice was slimy and smelled like cigarette smoke. “You’re going to cooperate now, though, and you’re going to give us everything of value, and then we will THINK about letting you go—” The man was cut off. A metal arm grabbed him by the shoulder and threw him to the ground with so much force you were surprised the asphalt didn't crack. The men released you to help fight off the assailant. You flattened yourself against the wall, trying to stay out of the way of the fight. You may not have been up to date with the most recent news, but you knew that there was only one person with that kind of metal arm, but you couldn't piece together why he would be here and helping you.

That’s when you saw his face. Those familiar blue eyes that always found yours with kindness and admiration were now replaced with snow and sleet. James stood before you as the Winter Soldier. He grabbed one of the men by the throat and threw him against the concrete wall. He fell to the ground with a thud. The other man, realizing who he was, threw his hands up.

“Hey man, I didn’t know she was your girl,” the guy tried to reason, but James stared at him as if his gaze could turn him to stone.

“It doesn't matter who she is,” he said, slowly advancing toward the guy. The man reached into his pocket, pulling out a knife. James laughed.

“You’re going to need more than a knife to fight me off, pal.” He grabbed the man’s hand that held the knife and broke it. Metal crushing bone echoed off the alley walls. He screamed and dropped to his knees as James picked the knife up and pocketed it.

Scrambling, the three attackers bolted toward the mouth of the alley. Your labored breathing brought his attention back, and he was on you in an instant.

“Are you hurt, Doll? I’m so sorry.” His eyes scanned you rapidly. You had a cut on your lip and a scrape on your cheek, but otherwise, you had no major injuries. You slid down the wall your back was resting against, and James knelt down beside you. The weight of what just happened set in, and you began hyperventilating.

“You’re having a panic attack,” he said gently. His flesh hand grabbed yours, and he placed it on his chest. “Just breathe with me.”

Tears and choked sobs wracked your body as you tried your best to follow his motions. Eventually, you were able to calm down enough to speak.

“T-thank you,” you whispered, your voice raw and grating. “For saving me.” His heart clenched at how broken you sounded.

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said, still holding your hand. “It took every bit of strength I had not to kill those guys as soon as I got my hands on them.”

You made a half-hearted attempt at a joke. “I don’t think the higher-ups would like to hear that their lead Avenger killed three men in an alleyway.”

His eyes found yours, and a bit of fear swam in them. “You know,” he breathed, brows creasing.

“Metal arm gave it away. The thought also crossed my mind from our conversation earlier.”

“Are you—are you okay with it? I can understand if you don't want me coming around again; I mean, I've done al—” He stammered nervously.

“Of course, I’m okay with it. I know your story, and I know you didn't have a choice. And besides, I wouldn't know what to do with myself if you stopped coming into the café.” You touched his arm reassuringly, and the cold metal was freezing against your fingers. That's when you realized he wasn't wearing a coat. “Oh my God, you must be cold! My apartment isn't far; we should get you warmed up,” you fretted, rising to your feet.

“You just found out that I’m the Winter Soldier, and you’re worried that I’m cold?” He laughed in disbelief.

“Well, yeah. You’re out here because of me.” He shook his head and stepped closer.

“You’re impossible,” he chuckled, looking at you with adoration. “I promise you my only concern is that you’re okay. And besides, I don’t get cold easily.” His fingers brushed your cheeks gently, taking in the sight of your injuries. “We should get you looked after.”

You stayed close to him on your walk back to your apartment. You were practically clinging to him. You told him it was to keep him warm, but he could feel the way you were trembling, even if you tried to hide it.

You unlocked your door and led him into your place, quickly locking the door behind him. You grabbed his hand and led him to your kitchen, motioning for him to have a seat at your island counter. You started rooting around the cupboards.

“What are you doing?” he asked curiously.

“I’m making coffee,” you stated, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What? Doll, you’re hurt; we need to look after your injuries,” he said, standing and making his way over to you.

“I don’t know how to process what just happened, but I do know how to make coffee, so that’s what I’m doing.” You said gently, feeling your wrists stopped by his steady hands.

“I know what happened to you was terrifying, and you’re still in shock, but please, let me help you.” He brought you over to the chair you told him to sit in and guided you down onto it. “Can you tell me where you keep your first aid supplies?”

You hesitated; you weren’t used to someone trying to take care of you. And James looked at you so softly, as if he were afraid you were going to break. You gave in.

“They are under the bathroom sink,” you mumbled, motioning vaguely to your hallway. He was gone and back in an instant, your first aid kit in his hands. He set it on the counter and began rifling through it until he found some alcohol and gauze.

“This is going to sting a little, Doll. I promise I’ll be quick.” You gave him a small nod, and he pressed the cotton to your cheek. You flinched at the pain, and he felt his heart crack. “I know, I’m sorry, Sweetheart.”

When he was satisfied, he moved to your lip. Thankfully for you, he switched to saline as he determined the cut wasn’t as bad. His eyes were trained and focused as he worked. Your cheeks flushed. He was so close, and you could smell the earthy scent of him. He looked up from your lip and caught you staring. You quickly looked away and pretended to be extremely interested in your wall clock all of a sudden. He smirked at you, going back to work.

“When you said you were on business trips, were you actually on missions fighting bad guys?” you asked, trying not to pry, but curiosity was eating you alive. He chuckled at your choice of words.

“Yeah,” he said, giving you a quizzical look. “You really didn’t know who I was until tonight?”

“No, I mean, I kind of assumed you were a pretty important person, but I didn’t know who exactly. I really try to stay away from the news; it just makes me depressed.” You said, causing him to laugh. “And by the way, I’m still calling you James.”

“That’s why I like you; you don’t treat me any differently. You like me for me, not just who people want me to be.” You held onto the meaning of his words, savoring them.

He held your chin in his hand, tilting your head slightly to make sure you had no other injuries.

“I think I can clear you as my patient.” He pulled away, and you already missed him being close to you. He started packing away the medical supplies in your med kit, but you grabbed his arm.

“James,” you said, his blue eyes finding yours. “Thank you for taking the time to help me. I’m sure there are more important things that you’ve got to do.”

“Doll, there is nothing more important to me than you.”

And those were the words that cut the last thread you were so desperately clinging onto. You stood up on your toes, your hand resting on the back of his neck. You were an inch from his face, and you paused for a moment, giving him the freedom to pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, you felt his arms grab your hips securely, pulling you closer. You leaned up and connected your lips in a sweet, loving kiss. You both moved slowly, lips mirroring each other's movements, savoring the taste, the feeling. The butterflies in your stomach brushed upon a sensation that you could feel growing by the second. Your hands trailed down his back, tracing along his muscles, committing them to memory like sacred text.

He pulled away slightly and whispered, “I’ve been waiting for you to catch on.” You let out a breathless laugh, kissing him again, but this time, you didn’t hold back.

He kissed you harder and hungrier than before. He kissed you for selfish want, and you gave him everything you had. His tongue slid over your bottom lip, begging for entrance, and you happily obliged. You felt drunk off him; everything about him filled your senses, and you loved it.

He pulled off your mouth, trailing hot-breathed kisses down your jaw and neck. He hit a spot just under your jaw that elicited a lewd moan from your lips. The sound lit something in him, and with one swift movement, he picked you up and placed you on the counter like you weighed nothing. That alone could have made you come undone right then and there. He positioned himself between your thighs, lips catching yours once again in a heated kiss. You arched your back as you snaked your leg around him, begging for him to be closer to you—no, needing him to be closer to you. His fingers rested on your hip just under the hem of your shirt, the cool metal flush against your hot skin sent goosebumps up your spine. His other hand, on your thigh, dangerous and waiting.

He wanted to lay you down and have his way with you right there in your kitchen. He was raised to take a girl out to dinner first, but God, you broke all his restraint with your pretty eyes and infectious kindness. The first day he met you at the café, he knew he was screwed. He tried so damn hard to admire from afar, but he just kept coming back to you. On the days he could see you, he was happier, more chipper, so much so that his team started to notice. Everything about you made him better. He just wished that the events leading up to this moment didn’t happen the way they did. But here you were now, drinking him in like chilled Chardonnay.

Your hand gripped his black crew neck shirt as you breathed him in. Your hips shifting closer to the edge of the table brushed against his, causing a low moan to escape his lips. You could feel how badly he wanted you, and that brought out a dark, mischievous side of you.

You moved again, this time more deliberate, lustful. The contact where you needed him most causing your eyes to flutter in pleasure. He panted hot breath on your skin, and you kept going, moaning his name like a prayer. His breaths became more shallow and frequent. You could tell he was close. You pulled away from him, whispering in his ear.

“The bedroom is down the hall, Soldier.”

He picked you up from the counter and carried you bridal-style down the hall. You couldn’t contain your giggles as he pressed gentle kisses to your shoulder, neck, and cheek.

He threw you on your bed as he hovered over you, dog tags dangling in front of your face. You reached up and gently pulled them down, connecting his lips with yours again.

That night, under the chill of the New York skyline, you gave yourself completely to him. In a haze of discarded clothing and soft, begging pants, you let yourself feel him entirely. James didn’t fuck you; he made love to you. He explored you and took note of what you liked, what made you beg for more, what left you breathless, and what made you weak.

You fell asleep next to him, head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. That night, you had never felt so safe, so protected, and so loved in the arms of James Bucky Barnes.

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