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#bruce banner x female reader
fluffyprettykitty · 8 months
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cockwarming with our delicious bruce banner for your lovely summer sleepover 😏
pairing: bruce banner x female reader
wc: 300 warnings: cockwarming, teasing, edging
a/n: thank you so much for requesting baby, enjoy! :)
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"Brucey..." You whine and run your fingers through his beard as he starts to look at you exasperated. He hated repeating himself yet you had gotten stupidly horny to the point where it hurt.
Now, you know he had to put work first, his scientistic discoveries and all that helped the world and made aliens happy or whatever, you honestly didn't care anymore. Instead, you just whined more and hopped on his lap in disagreement.
"Shhhh..." You halt your movements and look at him in frustration. Bruce shushes you putting one finger on your lips. "No whining."
"It's been an hour."
"And it's gonna be much more if you don't behave." You pout and throw your head on his chest, rolling your hips forward in revenge. You slowly grind against him as he is trying to type on his keyboard.
"If you never let me finish my work, you'll never get to finish either." He warned you once again and you just whined and rubbed yourself on him.
"You really don't like making things easy for yourself, do you?"
"Mmmm." You mumbled shutting your eyes and resting your chin on his shoulder squeezing him closer.
"Right. Right." Bruce mumbled and continued on with his work, and you couldn't help but wonder that maybe his hard-on just helped him work faster and focus better, you honestly couldn't explain, instead you just impatiently sat and waited for your dinner.
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(Love is) Lemon muffins and chamomile tea
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AN: This is my entry for @jadedvibes falling in love challenge. This story can be read as a standalone, or a prequel to my other Bruce/Hulk x Reader stories (I guess it’s a series now, oops). My chosen dialogue prompt can be found in bold in the text.
Dividers by @fireflygraphics and moodboard by me
Beta’d by @yarnforbrains
Please check out my main masterlist here and the series masterlist here
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Pairing: Bruce Banner/Hulk x Reader
CW: Fluff/Meet cute, Falling in love, mild peril and threats of violence, Hulk being a sweetheart, one kiss.
Word count: 2.7k
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It had started simply, as these things do. You were working your job at the independent coffee shop, making up flat whites, americanos and skinny mocha-lattes with extra foam and shots of non-sugar syrup. You saw lots of people every day, but after a while you began to recognise your regulars: baldy business suit (macchiato), working mom (hazelnut latte, sometimes with whipped cream), gaggle of college girls (who flip flop between seasonal flavoured hot chocolates, seasonal frappes and double espressos), and construction workers (a mix of americano’s and flat whites).
Then there was him. Not overly tall or broad, but with a riot of curly salt and pepper hair and kind, dark eyes partially hidden by glasses. He always seemed preoccupied, reading a book in the wait line, and then at a table if he chose to have his drink in. You’d peeked at his books several times and having seen they were all to do with physics, math, and computing, you’d concluded he was either a university professor or a scientist.
What made him stand out though was his order. He rarely had coffee, normally opting for a tea. Usually he chose  mint, the green of it almost glowing in the cup, but you’d started noticing a pattern – if he seemed stressed, agitated, he always asked for chamomile. And he nearly always drank this inside, as if he needed the time to decompress and compose himself - to escape whatever was frustrating him. 
The third thing that struck you was that he didn’t seem to have a regular time of day to attend. Sometimes he was outside the doors at opening, sometimes you were politely shoo-ing him out at closing. It made you think that maybe he worked close by and kept odd hours, popping in and out of your little shop whenever he needed a break. It was one of those late night incidents in the middle of summer that you learned his name.
You’d been dutifully cleaning down all the equipment, filling and setting the dishwasher to run overnight, and wiping the tables, watching ‘The Professor’ as you’d dubbed him from the corner of your eye. It had been a chamomile evening, apparently, and scattered in front of him were pieces of paper covered in his spidery scrawl, and two, thick books about some kind of brain draining topic. He’d read a bit, make a note, curse low under his breath, and then read a bit more, sometimes flipping back and forth through the pages. It felt mean to disturb him, but you’d turned the open/close sign 15 mins ago, switched all the lights off out back, and there wasn’t a lot else you could do. Also, your feet hurt and you just wanted to get home.
You walked up to him, coming round the side in hope he would see you, but he still jumped slightly when you greeted him.
“Umm, hi there.”
You almost swore his skin took on a green tinge as he swivelled on his stool, but when you looked again he appeared totally normal. You did need some rest!
“Sorry to disturb you, but we’re, umm, closed now.” 
The Professor blinked at you slowly, as if trying to process what you were saying, before tilting his head to look at the clock on the wall.  He looked down at his watch with furrowed brow, as though he didn’t believe what he was seeing.
“Damn! I’m so sorry.” He pulled off his glasses, folding them and putting them in his breast pocket. Turning back to the table, he started to shuffle his papers together, stuffing them and his books into his leather messenger bag.  “You should have told me earlier. I didn’t mean to hold you up. I just, umm, get in the zone sometimes and don’t notice the march of time.”
You smiled back, finding his slightly flustered state endearing. “It’s no problem. It was sort of nice to have someone else in here while I was shutting up.” 
Walking over to the door with him, you  held it open for him to leave. He walked through, took one step along the sidewalk before suddenly stopping, spinning on his heel and looking at you from under his dark lashes, a broad hand pushing through his hair.
“Err, I’m Bruce by the way.”
You grinned. He really was rather cute.
“Nice to meet you, Bruce. See you again sometime.”
He let out a small chuckle.
“Yeah, the next time I need a cup of tea, a lemon muffin, and, umm, some of the best scenery in New York.”
You couldn’t hold back your giggle at the cheesiness of his line.
“Smooth, Bruce, smooth…”
He shot you a smile, before turning away and heading off into the warm evening.
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Summer made way for autumn, the heat tapering off, the nights creeping in and the leaves doing their annual costume change. You saw Bruce more often than before, striking up a friendship with him due to his frequent visits to the shop. Whenever he spotted you behind the counter, he’d shyly wave hello. It got to the point where he never had to line up any more, just situated himself at his favourite table, spreading out his books and notes, knowing that as soon as you got a moment you’d appear with his tea and a muffin. You’d begun to read his moods, and it wasn’t difficult for you to work out which tea he was in the mood for.
During quiet moments you’d come over and sit with him, either letting him ramble at you about his work  - despite the fact that if you understood one word in three you were doing well - or distracting him from whatever equation was frustrating him by telling him about your day. He’d often stay for a few hours, going through cup after cup of tea, and if he appeared when you were on a closing shift you knew he would be there until you ushered him out of the door.
It was the beginning of November now. Halloween had passed in a flurry of bat shaped cookies and pumpkin spice muffins, although the warm apple cider and pumpkin spice lattes were staying for a while. You smiled at the memory of when you gave Bruce one of the ciders instead of his normal tea. He’d sipped it absent-mindedly, and you’d seen the moment his taste buds had woken up.  His eyes went wide as he smacked his lips together before he threw you a smile that you’d never admit made you go slightly weak at the knees.
There was something between the two of you; some unspoken undercurrent. There were times, especially when it was only the pair of you left in the shop, that you felt yourself a hair's breadth away from reaching out to him, wanting so much to run your fingers through his tousled locks, take his glasses off, sit yourself on his lap and… but he was your customer. You never saw each other in any other setting, so you had to maintain your professionalism, but you itched for more, wondering if you should bite the bullet and ask him out. 
There’s always tomorrow, you thought.
Then, everything changed.
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The wind whipped around you, causing swirls of leaves around your feet as you pulled the shop door shut, using the light from the streetlamp to see what you were doing as you locked it.
“Are you sure you’ll be alright getting home on your own?” 
Bruce stood next to you, wrapped up in a chunky scarf over his wool coat, his heavy messenger bag slung across his chest. He was shifting from foot to foot, looking a bit agitated, eyes darting all around as though looking out for any danger that may be lurking. With your back still turned to him, you rolled your eyes, before spinning to look at him, a soft smile now on your face as you pulled on your gloves.
“I’ll be fine, Bruce. I walk this route nearly every day. It’s only three blocks.”
“But there are some weirdos out there.”
“I know that, but I promise to stay in the well-lit areas, and I’ve got my pepper spray.” You pulled your keychain from your pocket, showing the small spray can attached.
“I could walk you home…” 
Your heart did that little ‘pitter-patter’ again at his sweet offer. Your lips turned up further.
“Go home, Bruce. I absolutely promise I’ll be okay. I’m on the mid-shift tomorrow, so see you around lunch time? Maybe I’ll take my break after I bring you your food? Regale you with the boring story of this walk home.”
He looked at you, just letting out a resigned hum at your stubborn independence.
“Okay. I just worry, you know. Pretty girl like you, walking home in the dark.”
While your heart did somersaults, you tried to maintain your cool.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Bruce.” 
You could feel him watching you as you walked away down the sidewalk, and you couldn’t help but wonder if the fact that he cared so much meant  that he cared.
You kept your promise as you walked home,sticking to the middle of the sidewalk, not too close to the alleys and doorways, and also not too close to the road edge. That was until a man coming in the other direction crashed into you sending you staggering towards the side of a building. You bounced against the hard bricks, winded for a second, and then a hand closed around your wrist, yanking you into the dark alleyway. You let out a screech and pulled back, but the hand held you fast, pulling you further away from the lights and any other pedestrians. You fumbled in your pocket for your keys, your small can of pepper spray, but a firmer tug caused you to stumble, and they fell from your gloved hand onto the ground with a clatter.
“Let me go!” 
The man, tall and filthy, leered at you through missing teeth, running his gaze up and down your body in hunger, despite how much you were covered with your duffle coat. You lashed out with your free arm, and your feet, panic rising within you.
“Do as the lady says…”
A voice from the mouth of the alley stopped both you and your attacker in your trackers, both your heads whipping round.
“Bruce!”
He took a step forward, pulling off his bag and scarf, dropping them to the ground, then started to undo the buttons on his coat.
“Fuck off!” Your assailant yelled at Bruce and followed it up with a gob of spit that landed at Bruce’s feet.
“Come on, man, you don’t want to do this.” There was a strange look on Bruce’s face, like he was resigned to a course of action he didn’t want to take. He shrugged off his coat and lay it over a dumpster, seemingly calm.
Suddenly there was a gun in play, in the hand of the filthy attacker, pointing directly at Bruce. Fear spiked within you.
“No, no, no!”
Your struggles began anew, as you desperately tried to pull him off balance, but he flung you to the side, sending you careening into another dumpster as you fell, your head bouncing harshly off the metal with a dull clang. You slumped to the floor, dizzy and you saw Bruce, through your blurred vision, take a couple of steps towards you.
“Aa-aah. You don’t wanna be a hero. Just go away and you won’t get hurt.”
Bruce smirked, an expression that you’d never witnessed before.
“Funny, I was gonna say the same to you.”
He took another step forward.
Everything happened in slow motion.
The gun fired, the shot loud, almost deafening to your ears, the bullet zipping through the air towards Bruce.
Who was no longer Bruce.
As fast as the shot had been fired, Bruce changed - transformed. All at once his skin turned green, and he grew in bulk and size, his shirt shredding itself.
You screamed.
The Hulk snorted, grinned at your attacker and spat out a mangled bullet.
“Just go away. You won’t get hurt.”
Hulk walked forward with a grin, plucking the gun away and squashing it in his giant fist, and your assailant ran away on jelly legs, tripping and bouncing off the walls in his haste. He hadn’t even disappeared fully before the giant, green creature turned his attention to you. He moved forward and in your disorientated and pained state, you tried to back up, unable to actually go anywhere because of the dumpster behind you.
“Please don’t hurt me!”
Hulk’s eyes went wide, and he sat down with a thud, the dumpster behind you juddering. He started to reach out towards you, but you shrank into yourself and he stopped.
“Hulk not hurt Pretty Girl. Pretty Girl Banner’s friend.”
“Banner? What’s going on? Where’s Bruce?”
Hulk tapped the side of his head with a thick finger.
“Bruce in here. He let Hulk out to help.” His face took on a slightly downcast expression. “But he says I have to go back in now.”
He looked thoroughly dejected.
“All anyone want Hulk to do is smash. Hulk would like to make friends too.”
Your fear melted away. You shuffled closer and placed a hand on one of his meaty forearms.
“Thank you for helping me. I can be your friend, if you want?”
His face split into a wild smile. 
“Hulk would like to have Pretty Girl as a friend.”
“Well there you go, Big guy. I’ll organise something with Bruce, okay?”
“Okay!” He raised his free hand again and, more gently than you thought possible, ran the back of his hand over your cheek. “Bye-bye, Pretty Girl.”
He closed his eyes and with a small shudder began to shrink down, the green of his skin receding until it was pale again and Bruce was looking at you. His shirt lay in tatters across his shoulders and he immediately got up to retrieve his coat, shoving his arms into it at speed.
“I… ummm… well… Secret's out now, I guess. I’m sorry you had to see that, but I’m not sorry I helped you. See you around.”
He picked up his bag and scarf and walked towards the mouth of the alley. You scrabbled to your feet, arm outstretched in front of you.
“Bruce, wait!” He turned, looking at you warily. “There’s something I wanna ask you. And don’t think it’s because of what just happened. Well it sort of is, but only in a ‘you gotta go for what you want before it’s too late’ kinda way, and… shit, I’m rambling.” You clamped your mouth shut and drew in a deep breath through your nose. Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought.
“I like you, Bruce. In fact, I can’t think straight with you around. You’re sweet and kind, and clever and handsome. And…and… I don’t think it would take much to fall in love with you. And I wondered, if you’d like to maybe… go for a drink tomorrow when I finish my shift?”
You shifted your weight from foot to foot, twisting your hands in the sleeves of your coat, aware that you had just asked him out in a dingy, smelly and downright filthy alley, just after he’d rescued you from goodness knows what kind of a fate, but you couldn’t be sorry about it. Okay, maybe you would be sorry about it if he didn’t say something and…
You didn’t even notice him moving, but suddenly he was there, in front of you, the buttons of his coat almost touching the zipper of yours, the twin ‘huffs’ of air from both your mouths merging together in the coolness of the night. Then his hands were on your face, cupping your cheeks before his lips fell to yours, kissing you sweetly. You fisted his coat, well, as best you could with your woollen gloves on, until you separated from each other, eyes locked and staring. Bruce broke the silence first.
“In case you didn’t realise from that, I like you too. And maybe I’m likely to fall in love with you as well. You’re so smart, so beautiful. And you make an awesome apple cider.”
You giggled, your head falling to lean against his chest.
“Walk me home, Bruce?”
“Of course, Pretty Girl. Whatever you want.”
Tag list: @christywantspizza @jobean12-blog @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @sidepartskinnyjeans @tuiccim @doasyoudesireandlive @talia-rumlow @ohsymphony @luxeavenger @wheezy-stucky
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swan-of-sunrise · 1 year
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The Halcyon Hypothesis
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Summary: A chance meeting on the New York subway between a stressed-out graduate student and a brilliant but dorky scientist takes a surprising turn in both of their lives.
Pairing: Bruce Banner X Reader
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings/Disclaimers: None
A/N: Here’s another little one-shot I found hiding on an old flash drive! It’s officially dedicated to all you guys who’ve been struggling with finals and to all the other Bruce Banner fans out there lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!  
The Halcyon Hypothesis (Fanfiction Masterlist)
“Dammit!” (Y/N) swore under her breath as she edged her way into the extremely cramped train and tried not to lose grip on the large stack of notes in her arms. People funneled into the train behind her and in no time, she was crammed tightly into the train as the doors closed; if Professor Taylors hadn’t kept us after class, I’d be on an almost-deserted train right now with my own personal space, she thought with annoyance as the train began to move, but at least I can still cram a little studying in.
She planted her feet so the motions of the train wouldn’t cause her to lose balance and opened her notebook to her most recent notes. Sweat-covered passengers shifted around her as more and more people boarded at the next several stops, but she did her best to ignore them as she struggled to understand everything she’d hastily jotted down earlier. Burnout was hitting her hard as the fall semester drew to a close and her roommates were in the midst of a fight of epic proportions, so the only think keeping her going was the six cups of coffee she’d already had and the promise of another when she arrived back home. All of a sudden, the train slammed on its brakes harder than usual; most of the other passengers were holding onto hand straps but since (Y/N) wasn’t, the train’s jarring movement sent her stumbling into the man standing next to her. “Shit, sorry about that.”
“That’s okay. There’s an extra hand strap over here if you wanna use it.”
(Y/N) glanced up from her notes and momentarily forgot to speak when she caught sight of the man’s kindly smile and strangely-captivating eyes. “I’m fine, I’ve gotta hold my notes.”
The man nodded in understanding and she returned her focus to the scribbles on her page of notes. A few moments later, though, the man spoke again. “You mixed up a couple of your definitions.”
“Excuse me?”
He looked a little startled by her annoyed reply, but nevertheless he continued. “The, um, the definitions for adenosine triphosphate and adenylate cyclase at the top of your page should be swapped.”
Still slightly irritated that her studying was interrupted again, (Y/N) looked at the definitions he spoke of and to her surprise, the man was correct. “Well, I’ll be damned. Are you a biology expert or something?”
“You could say that. I, ah, actually have one of my PhD’s in it,” The man replied. Instead of acting smug about his apparent multiple doctorates, he seemed a little embarrassed to have mentioned them at all; he rubbed his neck awkwardly with his free hand and looked at everything in the train car but her as his ears flushed a vivid shade of pink.
His shyness is kinda cute, (Y/N) thought with a growing smile, her earlier annoyance long-gone. “That’s cool! I’m working on my master’s in biology right now and I can’t even imagine working on a doctorate; I’ve never been more stressed in my life. So stressed, apparently, that I can’t tell the difference between a nucleotide and an enzyme! It’s just that my professors won’t ease up on the workload and things are a little tense with my roommates so I don’t get much studying in at home, and-” She stopped her rambling and cringed internally; why the hell was she unloading all this onto a stranger on a train? “Sorry, I didn’t mean to go on a rant there. Stress, you know…”
“That’s okay, stress can make people do a lot of weird things.” The man’s eyes were unfocused, as if he was thinking about something else, but the strange look disappeared after a moment and was replaced with a bashful grin. “…If you want, I could look over your notes to make sure everything’s correct? Not that it’s not correct, of course! I’m sure it’s great, but, you know, just to be on the safe side…?”
“Um…sure, I guess. Thanks!” (Y/N) handed him her notebook and pencil and watched as he began flipping through the pages, scanning the information and used the pencil to make corrections when necessary. The train clinked and clanked along as he remained concentrated on his work, and (Y/N) took the opportunity to examine him a little. His dark curly hair was streaked with a few strands of grey, even though he appeared to be on the younger side. I’d probably have grey hair too if I had more than one doctorate, she thought with an inward chuckle before resuming her observations. He wore wire-framed glasses that had a tendency to slide down his nose, and she could clearly see the smile lines that surrounded his vivid green eyes. Just as she was debating whether or not she should try to give him her number or just simply ask for the handsome stranger’s name, he closed her notebook and looked up at her.
“Well, there were a couple of mistakes with some formulas but other than that, everything looks great! Not bad for a person who says they don’t know the difference between a nucleotide and an enzyme.” His teasing words and flirtatious smile caused her stomach to flutter.
“Thank you,” She took her notebook back and clutched it to her chest. “Now I’ve just gotta study all this and try to pass my final on Friday.”
“I’m sure you’ll do fine; your notes are very thorough and well-written, so you shouldn’t have any problem.”
“Easy for you to say, dude, you’ve probably got half-a-dozen PhD’s under your belt.” Her eyebrows rose when he gave her a sheepish look. “You’ve got more than that?”
The man shrugged as he shuffled his feet in embarrassment. “I’m not really the type to brag.” A silence fell over them for several moments until he spoke up again, his timid green eyes fixated on hers. “I, um, I just wanted to say that I think it’s wonderful you’re involved in the sciences…as a woman, I mean, because women haven’t always been encouraged into pursuing STEM careers but times are finally changing and I…well, I-I think it’s admirable.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly and he gave her a half smile that made her heart skip a beat. “You know, it’s like what Nichelle Nichols used to say: ‘Science is not a boy’s game, it’s not a girl’s game. It’s everyone’s game. It’s about where we are…’”
“‘…and where we’re going.’” (Y/N) smiled bashfully at the impressed look he was giving her and fiddled with the metal spiral holding her notebook together. “Lieutenant Uhura was my favorite Star Trek character when I was a kid. That’s sweet of you to say, Doctor…?”
“Bruce. My name’s Bruce.”
She shook his outstretched hand. “(Y/N).” Their eyes met and her breath hitched as she took in the intensity of his gaze, barely aware that their hands were still touching and that she could smell his intoxicating cedar cologne. The intensity of her courses that semester meant that she hadn’t had much time for romance but judging by the way she felt herself react to Bruce in the brief amount of time she’d known him, she could easily imagine herself charging headfirst back into the world of dating alongside the handsome scientist standing so close to her.
“Now approaching Grand Central Station!”
“This is me,” Bruce looked almost disappointed at the announcement but then his green eyes suddenly lit up; he scrambled to pull his wallet out and finally pulled out a business card as the train stopped and the doors opened. “Here’s my number, let me know how your test goes! It was really nice talking to you, (Y/N)!” With a small wave, he pushed through the packed train and out of sight.
“Bye Bruce,” (Y/N) mumbled dejectedly; she’d finally met a nice guy but he was gone as quickly as he came. But at least I have his number, she thought with a growing grin, her heart feeling lighter than it had in a long while. She looked down at the business card in her hand and nearly dropped it in surprise, for printed neatly on the card was the name Dr. Bruce Banner. “Holy shit! I had an Avenger look over my biology notes?!”
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“So, let me get this straight: you met a beautiful woman on the subway the other day, bonded over your shared nerdy love of science and Star Trek, and even stared into each other’s eyes for a little bit like they do in those cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies…yet you didn’t bother to try and get her number? Geez, you’re rustier at all this than Capsicle!”
Pulling away from his microscope, Bruce took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I already told you, Tony, I gave her my business card before I got off the train. If she wants to contact me, then she will and we can see where we go from there.”
Tony rolled his eyes and sighed as he spun his desk chair around in a circle. “Yeah, that’s just the way every woman dreams of being wooed. Ever hear of romance, Brucie?”
“Did you seriously just call me-?”
“If you knew her last name and where she went to school, then we could have J.A.R.V.I.S. track her down and then you could go down there and surprise her…” The billionaire’s face illuminated with a bright smile. “I’m talking flowers, chocolates, expensive dinner reservations, front-row tickets to Hamilton, the whole shebang. You could easily sweep this chick off her exhausted and stressed-out feet, dude, if only you’d just bothered to take a page out of your BFF’s book.”
Bruce snorted. “And conversely, have you ever heard of stalking in the fourth degree? Those tricks might work with Pepper but you’re you and I’m me, Tony, and I’m definitely not the kind of guy that women would want to be swept off their feet by. I can’t even remember when I last went on a date, it’s been so long-”
The muffled chiming of Bruce’s cellphone echoed throughout the laboratory and interrupted his protests; he unearthed the phone from beneath a pile of loose papers and frowned when he noticed a new text message from an unknown number, but his confusion quickly shifted to elation once he read the text.
Unknown: Hi Bruce, this is (Y/N) from the train. You’ll be pleased to know that I got an A on my final!
The gif of a cutely-animated Spock dancing around in circles on the bridge of the U.S.S. Enterprise made Bruce snort in amusement, and it was soon followed up by a second text.
Unknown: Would it be too forward to ask if I can buy you a coffee, to thank you again for double-checking my notes and brightening my day?
“It seems that I might’ve misjudged your mystery lady…” Tony admitted as he peered over Bruce’s shoulder at the cell phone in his hand, a small but genuine smile on his bearded face. “You know what the word ‘halcyon’ means? It indicates a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful, but a funny thing about that word is that can also describe happiness in the general sense.” Bruce arched a brow and the billionaire shrugged. “Pepper’s got me listening to some philosophy podcasts, they’re weird but pretty good. My point is that your chance for halcyon isn’t gone, my Jolly Green friend; it’s quite literally in the palm of your hand, but you’ve gotta be the one to hold on tight to it.”
The billionaire clapped Bruce on the shoulder and whistled a show-tune as he left him alone in the laboratory. The scientist reveled in the lighthearted feeling that threatened to consume him, unable to recall the last instance he’d felt so pleased to receive a simple text; (Y/N) knew about the Other Guy and the life Bruce led as an Avenger, and yet she still reached out on her own volition and even invited him out for coffee. It was presumptive to assume she felt the same way about him, but he’d be naïve not to acknowledge the intensity that had been evident in her (Y/E/C) eyes when they shook hands on the train.
“It’s just a cup of coffee,” Bruce muttered to himself, nervously biting his lip as he stared down at his phone, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard in hesitation. “Not necessarily my halcyon…”
The scientist typed out his enthusiastic reply and he couldn’t help but smile again, his heart hammering away in his chest as he thought about all the data he’d need to collect to prove his halcyon hypothesis correct and how nice it would be to have a scientist as lovely as (Y/N) to conduct some experiments alongside.
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A/N: Aww, I love a happy ending! Bonus points to anyone who can guess which show-tune Tony was humming (Hint: It’s from an old film musical that people consider to be a Christmas movie lol). Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and I hope that you have a wonderful holiday season!
Fanfiction Masterlist
Marvel Taglist: @brooke0297
All Works: @crowleysqueenofhell @momc95 @groovy-lady​
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Note
Hi! Could I get a matchup for Marvel and Lord of the Rings (if you only do one fandom per request, could I have a Lord of the Rings matchup)?
Name: Eren
Pronouns: She/Her
Sexuality: Straight
Zodiac Sign: Gemini
MBTI: INFJ
Personality: I'm pretty quiet in social settings but if someone talks to me first, I can keep a conversation going. I will occasionally go up to someone to initial a conversation but not very often.
With people that I'm close with, I'm very open and sarcastic. And I make a lot of self-depreciating jokes (even though I have a high self worth).
Likes: Reading, writing, anime, video games, Marvel, and listening to music (stuff like Hamilton, Panic! at the Disco and Offspring).
Dislikes: Spiders (deathly afraid of those), being forgotten when I'm gone, and disappointing those who I care about.
Looks: I'm 164cm (5'4") and have an average build (not too curvy but definitely not straight up and down). I have green eyes that everyone thinks are brown/black and curly/frizzy dark brown hair that is down to the middle of my back.
Extra Info: I'm at university and I'm doing a major in English and Writing. I want to be a published author and have written a few manuscripts. I regularly get distinctions and high distinctions for my uni assignments and have very high expectations of myself.
Hopefully I've put the right amount of information and that it's the right sort of info! 😅 I hope the rest of your day goes well for you and that you're taking care of yourself!
Thank you so much for requesting a matchup! The information is perfect, don't worry! I hope you like your matchup! <333
Marvel;
Bruce Banner:
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💚 You met Bruce when you interviewed for a job as a lab assistant for Tony Stark, and you got the job. Now, Science and test tubs weren't really your thing, but your job description was basically just taking notes for Bruce and Tony, and writing down the information from their tests, projects, and whatnot
💚 It was surprisingly not a lot of work to do for the amazing pay you got, you even got a lot of free time and an hour's break for lunch, which you spent your time eating and working on a book of yours
💚 Bruce finally spoke to you after a couple of days, and yes, he did greet you when you first started, but the conversations didn't start until later; like you, Bruce was pretty shy and quiet too
💚 Thankfully, for you, Bruce started the conversation first, asking you how you were doing, and if the job was alright, and you answered, allowing the convo to flow; it was so easy to talk to him, thirty minutes had passed and at that point, you were talking about how much you hated spiders and Bruce actually made a joke about how you were not going to like Spiderman
💚 Along with your job being super reasonable and almost way too easy, it gave you time to go to Uni, where you worked on your majors of English and Writing, and when you got to the tower to work, Bruce would ask if you needed any help on any work you had for Uni, but you'd politely decline
💚 Only later did you let him help you even though you didn't need it, you just wanted to spend more time with him, spending time with Bruce was actually really nice, and you really enjoyed his company; not only was he smart, but he was kind and gentle, always speaking to you in a sweet, calm voice
💚 Bruce was growing a crush on you about a month after you joined, he found you incredibly smart, funny, sarcastic, and beautiful; he loved how your green eye shimmered in the light and how your curly, dark brown hair would almost float in the air behind you whenever you entered the room
💚 It got to the point that you too liked Bruce more than a friend, and always flushed whenever he brought you an extra cup of your favorite drink whenever he got his coffee, sometimes he'd buy you a donut or something; let's just say, you had heart eyes
💚 Only later, a couple more months, did Bruce ask you out on your first date, where the two of you when to a cute little diner, where you both talked about your lives, interests, hobbies, and such, (writing, video games, music); you both had a lot in common and your love for each other grew
💚 You both hold each other up when the other is sad or down, always super supportive (even when he'd Hulking out, you are there), and you both would never give up on each other, you loved each other so much
--
Lord Of The Rings;
Samwise Gamgee:
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🥔 You were part of the Fellowship when you met Samwise, or Sam as he asked you to call him
🥔 Now, you rarely do this, but you went up to the Hobbit to introduce yourself, instantly realizing that the Hobbit was smitten with you, seeing the way his eyes lit up at your presence, how his cheeks got a bit red and he stumbled over his words; it was adorable
🥔 You stayed by Sam during the like 80% of the journey to Mordor, ultimately splitting up with him when he went after Bilbo, but not before he confessed his feelings and ran off, not even letting you have enough time to reveal that you had growing feelings for him as well; love at first sight you thought it was
🥔 You continued the journey without Sam, feeling rather alone, not really knowing the other members of the Fellowship too well, mostly sticking with Legolas when you could, since he was pretty quiet too
🥔 Once you finally reunited, you couldn't help but run up to him, happy to see that he was alive, hugging him close; he hugged back, digging his face in your neck, his curly hair ticking your cheeks as you almost cried with joy and relief
🥔 At that moment, you finally, after a long while, confessed your feelings to Sam, and you wished you could keep the expression he had on his face in your mind forever, his eyes lit up at your words, his cheeks reddening again as he lightly gasped before a bright smile grew on his face; adorable
🥔 Right then, he got down on one knee, and though his face was smudged with dust and grime, he took your hands in his and asked if he could officially court you; you couldn't help but smile, chuckling a bit before saying yes
🥔 After Sam was insistent that he'd give you the best courting gift, so on the journey back to Hobbiton, after he asked you if you wanted to live with him, and you said yes, he worked in his garden and produced the best potatoes to make you the best potato soup; three words, it was heaven (boil 'em, mash 'em, stick 'em in a stew)
🥔 Sam would be really interested in your hobbies, wanting to be a part of them, and always up for some reading (which he did anyway) with you besides the fire, snuggled up, and writing; he'd write you many, many poems about how much he cared, admired, and loved you
🥔 Sam was such a gentleman, so sweet and charming, the most amazing person you've ever met, always making sure you were alright, and saving you from small spiders; Sam is in love with you, and you are everything to him, making butterflies erupt in his stomach and his heart skip many beats
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literaryavenger · 2 months
Text
Can I be him?
Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 4.8K
A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤
Masterlist
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Being an Avenger is not easy.
The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…
Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.
For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.
It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.
You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related. 
Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.
You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.
You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.
The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.
Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.
It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training. 
The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.
You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.
Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.
Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.
Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.
You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.
At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.
Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch. 
Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.
Because of me.
That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity. 
You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.
Not that you ever do. 
If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.
Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.
Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.
But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked. 
The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.
You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.
You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.
Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.
Bucky knew then he was in love.
But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down. 
You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.
So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.
But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.
Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.
For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.
That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.
He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing. 
Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.
So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.
Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.
But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.
Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.
You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.
You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.
Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.
You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.
Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.
And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.
He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.
Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.
Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.
So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.
He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.
He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.
But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo. 
Bucky did notice, though.
He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.
He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.
When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days. 
He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.
It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely. 
You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life. 
A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it. 
You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates. 
And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?
He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?
Of course it’s not me. 
It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear. 
Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.
He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.
Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.
But Bucky didn’t read that.
He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.
It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.
After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.
It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.
He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.
It’s silly to say, but you miss him.
Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.
He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.
You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.
A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.
You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.
You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.
Or at least that’s what you think.
As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.
Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”
That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.
You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.
Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.
Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.
The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.
The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.
“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”
Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.
He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.
But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.
His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.
Right?
He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.
But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.
“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.
“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.
As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.
Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.
As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.
Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.
When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.
That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.
That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.
He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.
Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.
Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.
Because you’re going to wake up.
Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.
Everything is dying.
Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?
No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.
He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.
He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.
But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.
Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.
After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.
That he could’ve lived with. 
But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.
Not that he has to.
While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.
You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.
You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.
You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?
You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.
When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.
But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.
You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.
“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.
For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.
“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.
“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.
It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?” 
You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.
“I’m okay…” He reassures you.
Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?” 
“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”
“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”
“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.
“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”
Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?
You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.
Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.
“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”
“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”
Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?
Could I be him?
“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.
“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.
“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.
Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.
“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?
“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.
“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.
It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!” 
Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.” 
You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.
Instead you lean in and kiss him.
Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”
You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.
“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again. 
Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?
It looks like he can be him after all.
1K notes · View notes
waltermis · 1 month
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Montreal
Y/N: Oh cool! You're all in the meeting room!
Bruce: You asked us to come here...
Natasha: What's this all about?
Y/N: What!? Here's a hypothetical question... let's say I knew someone for the first time in their life was experiencing a minor dry spell? What do you think you would suggest that to that person, if they were going through that.
Steve: You dragged us in here for this?!
Clint: Shhhh, well, I haven't really been in a dry spell since I got married. So, I'd tell this person to maybe get married... although they'd have to find someone they like first...
Y/N: Okay so, the suggestion to beat is find someone and get married. Tony?
Tony: Fly to Montreal, hit a classy hotel bar, bone a stranger. Dry spell over.
Y/N: Wow... That sounds amazing...
Tony: Yeah...
Y/N: That's a good one... Cap, what would you do?
Steve: I'm not getting involved...
Y/N: Pleaseeeeeeee Cappppppppp!!!
Steve: 10 000 pull ups...
Y/N: Okay.... Do you have a back up plan in case my hypothetical person can only do 9 500... or 5?
*Fury walks in*
Fury: What's going on in here?
Vision: We're helping Y/N's friend get out of a dry spell
Fury: Well, try finishing your paperwork for one, L/N. I always find that doing your work gets you out of most problems. Dry spell or slump or whatnot
Y/N: Thank you, Director...
Steve: He's right... just do your work and it'll go away
Y/N: FINE! Right after I do Tony's Montreal sex thing, that sounds fun!
Tony: Yeah...
*a few days later*
Y/N: Nat?! What're you doing in Montreal??
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307 notes · View notes
sunvmars · 8 months
Text
bitter sweet | s.r.
pairing: steve rogers x fem/afab reader
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next ↠
word count: 2.8k
warnings: obv swearing, pregnancy/pregnant reader, some angst that's mainly reader trying to cover up hidden emotions
summary: you've grown to resent steve after a breakup and give him the cold shoulder for weeks. you soon discover you're pregnant and show back up on his doorstep to tell him the news.
a/n: definitely turning this into a series if it gains enough traction!
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It was a warm summer evening like any other when Steve had asked you to come straight home after work, insisting he had something important to talk about. You had entered your shared apartment with expectations of a nice dinner or a movie night. Considering Steve was always one for suspension, surprise plans and at-home date nights weren't unusual.
You set your purse down on the table by the front door before sinking into your favorite recliner. The setting sun cast a glow amongst the living room that you greatly appreciated, although it was a glow that was far too beautiful to be wasted on that night.
"Steve! I'm home!"
Only a few seconds after you'd called out had he come, practically, running. He came to sit on the couch, only a few feet away, his expression conflicted.
"I missed you today," you said.
You beamed at your fiancé, simply happy to see him after another shitty work day. While you were an Avenger, you stuck to mainly office work when you had no missions.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "Y/n, honey, I think we need to talk."
Your heart sank, and a lump formed in your throat. You knew Steve like the back of your hand, and every time he has said the words "we need to talk," it's never been good.
"Is Buck sneaking over to eat all of our sweets again? I thought you talked to him about that," you joked in an attempt to lighten the tension.
"Funnily enough, no, he hasn't done that in a few days."
"Well, don't jinx it."
He chuckled briefly. His hands ran over his face as he sighed, and his broad shoulders relaxed.
"I've been thinking- a lot," he began, avoiding your gaze. "Baby, you know I love you, right?"
You hummed, giving him a nod that allowed him to continue.
"I love you, but..."
As soon as you had heard the "but," you tuned out. Whether it was by choice, or whether your mind and heart already knew what he was going to say and were just saving you the extra heartbreak, you weren't sure. You did, however, catch the last part of it. And luckily, the last part was all you needed to hear from him.
"I can't allow this to continue. I'm no good for you, y/n. I can't be the man you need or deserve right now. It's not fair to keep you waiting while I'm still trying to figure out what I want."
Your brows furrowed as your body started becoming tense. "What...?" you muttered.
It was less of a question and more of you thinking aloud, vocalizing your confusion. Unless you were a completely oblivious idiot, things between the two of you were fine yesterday, and every day before that for the last two years. He sighed, finally meeting your gaze. His eyes were filled with regret that you somehow missed.
"I... I can't take the risk anymore. I need to focus on my responsibilities and protecting the world. It's just... I can't let my personal life get in the way of my promise to the world."
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away before they could fall. You had the same job, so how could the man who had proposed only a few months ago just now, after two years, decide he couldn't make this work because of his job? Either way, that man didn't deserve your tears, so you wouldn't waste them on him. You stood quickly, not bothering to look back at him as you made your way towards the door.
"Y/n? Where are you going? Please say something, baby-"
"Don't! You don't get to call me that anymore," you snapped, finally allowing yourself to show some sort of emotion. "Just...stop. There's nothing else to say."
His eyes widened a little at your sudden outburst. You picked up your purse and keys hastily. Your fingers fidgeted with the keys for a moment, then you started sliding your house key off your keychain. It was then that you decided to speak again before he got the chance to, not caring to hear another word from him.
"I'll have someone come get my stuff tomorrow; do whatever you want with the apartment, as long as you don't have to contact me to do it."
"Y/n," he spoke with softened, glossy eyes, "please, just stay until you find somewhere else to go. This is your home too, I-"
"There's too much of you, well, what used to be us, here," you stated plainly as you placed your key on the table. "Where I go isn't your problem anymore anyway."
A sigh escaped your lips as you slung your purse over your shoulder. You turned to face him one last time as you stood in the doorway.
"Oh, and one more thing," you say, "You are a fucking coward, Steven Grant Rogers."
The door slammed behind you. And what you'd left behind was a deeply regretful, and utterly stupid, Steve sitting alone on the couch in the apartment you once shared.
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That was almost two months ago, and your heart had not allowed you to heal at all. As if seeing Steve in passing at work wasn't painful enough, now you had an important mission coming up tomorrow, and being chosen to go with him was inevitable. Or at least you thought it was inevitable. It had all started earlier in the morning with a rotten egg- an actual rotten egg, that is.
You were baking cookies for Bucky, fully aware of how much he'd miss your baked goods for the next week or two you would be gone. Over the time that you and Steve had dated and been engaged, you'd gotten pretty close with the brunette. He was equally supportive of both of you during the breakup. Though he did lay into Steve for leaving you. Bucky knew there was more to it than his job; both of you had the same job for Christ's sake, but he didn't push his friend for answers—at least not yet.
With one gentle motion, you cracked the egg on the side of your metal bowl. However, this egg had a smell to it. You brought it closer to your face to observe and smell it. What a horrible mistake, though, because as soon as you inhaled the sickening, sulfur-like scent, it made your stomach turn. But instead of going back to normal, you gagged. The scent was lingering longer than any other scent you'd ever smelled, almost as if you were permanently damned to having the smell stuck in your nostrils.
Then the hot stomach acid started coming up, and it was coming fast, signaling you needed a trashcan now. You bolted towards the nearest bathroom, preferring to take a chance on making a mess in a hallway rather than the kitchen. You passed Steve and Bucky on your way there, both men stopping dead in their tracks to watch as you ran into the bathroom only a few feet behind them.
"Huh," Steve mumbled, his heart throbbing at the sight of you.
"Sometimes I get sick when I look at you too, punk."
Bucky chuckled at his own joke, earning a glare from Steve.
"Go check on her for me, please."
"Always. But I won't keep giving you updates on her, y'know? It's not fair to her, Steve," Bucky sighed.
Steve only nodded in understanding, a smile only staying on his lips for a few seconds. He patted Bucky's back before turning on his heels and continuing on his path.
Your stomach clenched harder, and the vomit raced up your throat faster than ever. You barely got to the toilet before retching and gagging again, feeling instant relief when the bile finally came up. But then came a sudden second wave of nausea that seemed to be worse than the first. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the torture finally ended.
You stood up slowly and made your way to the sink. After tearing off a piece of paper towel, you dampened it under warm water. You wiped your mouth off with the damp napkin and threw it away before opening the door to leave.
"You okay?"
You jumped back slightly, looking over to meet piercing blue eyes. There was Bucky leaning up against the wall next to the bathroom door with his arms crossed.
"Jesus, Buck. You stalking me?"
"Stalking you? Definitely not. If I wanted to stalk someone, I'd find someone more interesting who doesn't eat half pints of vanilla bean ice cream and watch Pride and Prejudice or The Notebook every night," he jokes.
"Hey! It's how I cope and get over things; it's soothing."
"Yet you still pine over him, so how's that working out for ya?"
"...not great. Maybe I do need a new method, huh?"
The two of you exchange a laugh, and you start making your way back to the kitchen with Bucky right on your heels.
"So, are you okay?" he questions again.
"Just felt a little sick, that's all. And, hey, here's a tip: don't ever smell a rotten egg, it's not a pleasant experience," you say with a soft sigh.
He chuckles at your joke and replies, "Thank you for that. I'll remember that."
When you make it to the kitchen, he plants himself on a bar stool only a few feet away from you. You decide to continue making your cookies, holding your breath as you clean up the old egg.
"Wow, I can smell that from here. You weren't lying. That is bad."
His nose turns up and his face scrunches, earning a giggle from you. You two chat as you make the dough, and soon enough, you're finished baking. As you put the last cookies on the tray, Bucky stands up to get a closer look.
"God. Per usual, those smell amazing," he groans, reaching for one of the hot sweets.
You swat his hand away with a laugh. "Not until they're cooled down!"
He fakes a frown that makes you laugh again. You shake your head, making a 'tsk' noise at him.
"You're a menace, Buck," you joke.
He only shrugs his shoulders with a lopsided grin, then he pulls you into a hug. "Somebody has to get on your nerves. It keeps you distracted and on your feet," he teases.
"Thank you for being here for me."
Your body relaxes in his arms. You wrap your arms around his upper waist to return the sentiment. You take a deep breath and then pull away from the hug.
"How are you feeling, by the way?"
"It's almost like it never happened," you smirk.
"That's a lie, and you know it."
You're about to speak again, but close your mouth as soon as it opens. The nausea pools in your stomach again, forcing a huff out of you.
"I think I'm gonna be sick again."
"You're still feeling that bad over it?"
"No, I genuinely think I'm gonna throw up again, Buck," you say hurriedly, pushing by him to get back to the bathroom. "Put those cookies in a bag, Barnes! They're all yours!"
He chuckles and holds his thumb up in the air, even though you can't see it. "And you get yourself to the doctor, l/n."
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And going to the doctor is exactly what you chose to do.
Well, almost.
You instead chose to go to the lab with Tony and Bruce, and you only decided to go after about the fourth wave of nausea that came around five hours after the first. Which is how you ended up in the lab with grippy socks on and a cold Sprite in hand as you await blood and urine test results.
"So, how are you holding up, kid?" Tony asks, his eyes glued to his computer.
"Been better, had better days."
He looks away from his computer for a moment, making eye contact with you. "I could just kill him for hurting you, and I hope you know that," he states, his voice carrying nothing but genuine honesty.
"Aw, Tony, you're just like the dad I never dreamed of having—violently overprotective and overdramatic."
Bruce chuckles, but Tony just rolls his eyes, focusing back on his computer.
"That's what I get for trying to be nice to you," Tony scoffs, trying his best to hide the smile that wants to creep onto his face.
"I'm going to take a walk, Tony. I'll be back in a few minutes," Bruce announces as he rises from his chair. "If the computer beeps, it's her results coming back."
"Got it," Tony responds plainly, entirely too distracted by something on his screen.
The computer beeps only a few minutes after Bruce walks out, indicating an update to your information. Tony swivels his chair over to the big screen and pulls up your test results. He studies them carefully, not saying a word.
"So...what's wrong with me?"
He's still silent when he turns to face you. At first, he looks shocked, but then his brows furrow and his eyes narrow ever so slightly. If you hadn't known him for as long as you have, you'd think he was judging you based on his facial expression, but you knew he wasn't. He looked conflicted and confused, almost hesitant.
"What is it, Tone? You're freaking me out here. Is it the flu? A stomach bug? Food poisoning?"
"How about a baby?"
Your jaw drops, literally. The words pool in your mind, and your brain starts feeling like it's going to explode from all the different emotions and thoughts. You start to feel sick to your stomach again but manage to push the feeling down.
"I..." you start, unable to find the words to finish.
"I'm sorry, y/n. I won't tell anyone, okay? Not even Bruce. We need to set you up with a doctor. I have an amazing one I can call to come here and-"
"I appreciate that, Tony, but I need time to think first. We'll, uhm, talk tomorrow if that's okay."
"Of course," he empathizes, a sympathetic smile tugging at his lips. "Come here, kid."
You shuffle your way into his open arms, not having the energy to return the hug. He pulls away after a few seconds and allows you to step back.
"I think I'm gonna go...or something... I don't know," you mumble, making your way towards the door.
"Hey, y/n?"
"Yeah?"
"If this is something you want, don't let him ruin it for you."
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As soon as you leave the lab, it's like you're on autopilot.
Your feet took you to the downstairs office, then outside, and then to your car. When you get into your car, you tell yourself you're going to the store to grab some more ice cream. But your heart has other ideas; ideas such as Steve.
So, you drive yourself all the way to Steve's apartment, just wanting to be comforted by the familiarity for a moment. Then, somehow, you end up outside the front door of what used to be your shared space.
Your soft knock pulls Steve from the closest to sleep he's been in weeks. He curses under his breath, loathing whoever is at the door for ruining his chance at a few minutes to hours of peace.
However, that hate replaces itself with regret and adoration as soon as he opens the door to reveal your slouched-over form. Steve recognizes that look on your face, along with your body language, and it's evident that something is wrong.
As if you showing up at his door isn't surprising enough, you look up at him before letting yourself fall into his arms. He stands in shock as you lay your head on his warm and familiarly sculpted chest. Then sobs wrack through you, shaking your whole body, and that's all it takes for him to give into instinct and wrap his arms around you. The heat of his body and the feeling of his embrace provide a warming comfort as you cry into his shirt, only coaxing you further to let it all go.
One of his hands rubs your back gently while he holds you. "Y/n? What's wrong, honey? Talk to me," he coos.
You feel a tightness in your chest, a feeling that you can't put into words right now even if you tried your hardest to. In fact, all you can do is cry more as you hold tightly onto the sides of his shirt. You practically crumble into his chest, melting in his arms, and Steve understands. That's what made you fall for him in the first place, honestly - he always understands.
So, with no more words spoken, he holds you in the same doorway you walked out of only a couple of weeks ago. He holds you in that doorway until your tears slow and your breathing returns to normal. At some point, his thick fingers begin combing through your hair soothingly, the same way they used to every night at bedtime.
"I don't know what your stance on kids before marriage and after a breakup is, but you should figure it out soon," you mutter into his chest.
His body freezes, and his mind scrambles to catch up with your words. He looks down at your head, his eyebrows furrowing as he tries to make sense of the situation.
Are you truly saying what he thinks you are? You couldn't be...
"I'm pregnant, Steve."
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captaincapsicle83 · 2 months
Text
One Night Stand
Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: I don't know if anyone's noticed, but Clint Barton is my muse and he runs the cult...that I'm...in (I hope we get the reference or I sound insane). I just like writing silly Clint into my silly stories, I just noticed that theme.
TW: cursing, mentions of glass, mentions of injury,
Summary: You wake up the night after one of Tony Starks' biggest parties. And you're not in YOUR bedroom.
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Tony Stark x reader (platonic), Bruce Banner x reader (platonic)
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You wake up, light streaming through the blinds onto your face. You groan. This is why you got rid of the blinds, light always came through them.
...wait a minute.
You already got rid of the blinds.
You shot up in your bed. The bed. It wasn't yours. This pillow wasn't yours, this black comforter wasn't yours, and these clothes...
Holy mother fucker of Odinson.
You weren't wearing any clothes.
"What the fuck?" You say, out loud and clear. Something stirs in the bed.
You look over in horror, and an unidentified lump is hidden beneath the covers.
Okay, you think. Nows your chance. Nows your chance to be a reasonable adult, and talk this out with this person.
(Within seconds you have gathered your lost articles of clothing and dashed out of the strangers room).
You were lucky in a sense, the sense being that this person lived in the tower that your best friend owned. Him and all his avenger friends lived here, and he gave you a room on his floor that you used sometimes.
Oh shit.
You slept with an avenger.
And it wasn't even Thor. He wasn't ok earth right now. That sucked. He was on your bucket list.
You sat on your bed, pouting mostly, wanting desperately to nurse your throbbing hangover.
You didn't quite have the guts to leave the room just yet. You remembered the in-building AI right at that moment.
"Friday," you croacked out. Your mouth was horribly dry, and you were also in desperate need of some chapstick. "Where's Tony?"
You weren't sure exactly the extent of what the AI could do, but she seemed happy to answer you.
"Mr. Stark is in his lab, accompanied by Dr. Banner. Would you like me to page him for you?"
"Can I just...go there?" You asked. Your room was much darker, having black out curtains instead of blinds.
Curse the blinds. And their creator. Edward Bevan. Curse him.
"Of course, Miss L/n."
Luckily for you, you knew where Tony's lab was, and what floor number to press in the elevator.
You kept your eyes closed on the blinding ride down, the bright fluorescent lights giving you an aneurysm.
The lights in the lab were even worse.
You walked into the room, eyes squinted and using your hands to shield yourself. Tony clearly found this hilarious, chuckling like an idiot.
Not even chuckling. The bastard was giggling.
"Lights not made for a hangover sweetheart," He shook his head, and you shit him a snarl and a death glare. Bruce gave you a sympathetic look and was holding out a bottle of water.
"You know any trusted detectives?" You asked, smiling at Bruce, and taking the drink from him gratefully.
"Ooh, for what?" Tony asked, looking intrigued. "Spill the tea sis."
You did, two mouths were agape when you finished.
After a minute of silence, Tony whips his head towards Bruce, "Was it-?"
"No!" Bruce scowls, then cringes and looks at you. "Not that-...I'm not saying...I wasn't even drinking last night, I would remember."
"Oh-kay," Tony says, exasperated. "We'll it wasn't me-"
"Thank god."
"It wasn't...Thor."
"Unfortunately."
"And it wasn't Peter...he doesn't have a room here."
"And he's a child!" You mention, giving Tony a disgusted look.
He waves you off, tapping a little metal tool to his forehead, presumably to help him think.
"Anything you remember? Did you get a look at them?"
You think about what you could possibly remember. Last thing last night was downing shots with Tony and a bunch of his friends, and getting told names you didn't commit to memory.
"They still have blinds in their room," you throw out there, shrugging. Nothing else came to mind.
"Friday," Tony calls out. "How many avengers on the 93rd floor have blinds in their room still?"
"About 7 sir," she answers. The only woman who would ever call Tony Stark, and the likes of him, sir.
"Which ones?"
"Mr. Rogers, Mr. Wilson, Vision, Miss Romanoff, Mr. Barton, Mr. Barnes, and Dr. Banner."
"Yay!" Tony says, and you can't pin if it was sarcastic. "That leaves six."
"Yay," you and Bruce both answer monotonously.
"Hmm," Tony taps his chin. "Do you think putting out a message, asking who got laid recently, would be too bold."
"A little," you responded, arms crossed.
Tony sat down at his table, you following, and poor Bruce too, who clearly was sucked into this against his better judgement.
"You don't happen to remember what room?"
You did not. You had dashed so quickly, and it all kinda looked the same.
"Who do you want it to be?" Tony whispered. "We can just...let you pick and say you did 'em."
"Bartons kinda hot," you shrugged.
"Bartons kinda married," Tony mimicked your expression.
"He was...big...er..."
"Are you fat shaming your fuck buddy y/n?"
"No! I'm just saying...They werent...I dont think it was Natasha."
"Yeah, neither do I. So, assuming Bartons faithful, that leaves three men and a robot."
"Does vision have a-..."
"No."
"So then, that's three men," you say.
○○○
Tony invited you to lunch with the team. Subtle.
You, him, and poor Bruce (still looped into the mess) stood at the back of the room.
"Okay, so...I was thinking," Bruce starts. Tony looks surprised at the input and begs him to go on. "Well, if everyone's here, you can go look at those threes rooms, and see if they look...familiar?"
Bruce's suggestion let's a hush fall over the three of you.
○○○
The first room you entered, Sam Wilson's. You knew immediately it wasn't the right one, it being surprisingly bright in nature.
But, you were a nosy little fucker, and therefore when you saw the pictures that, from afar, looked a lot like Captain America fanart, you had to take a gander.
A few cellphone photos later, and you stuffed the drawings back into the drawer they were sticking out of. You thought about the luxury snooping would be, but figured your luck was being pressed already.
The next room was right next to it, belonging to Bucky Barnes.
You turned the handle of the door, carefully making your way in while watching the hallway. You had to be sure no one saw you enter.
Your back still to the room, you carefully and quietly shut the bedroom door. You had your phone still out, in your right hand.
You turned around, and dropped the Stark branded cellphone to the ground. It was new, without a case, therefore you were probably shit out of luck.
You didn't have time to check on it though, because your bright ass didn't check the room for occupants.
Well, occupant. The occupant.
Bucky Barnes.
The blinds were open, shining midday light into the room. The dark bedding was in a disarray ok the mattress, a clear indicator of a rush out of it.
The man looked at you, mouth slightly agape. Your mind was racing, a thousand miles a minute, trying to find a good way to break the silence.
"Did I have have sex with you?" You wanted to slap yourself silly.
He seems to have to take the time to pick his jaw up off the floor. He clears his throat (ew, fuck, was that attractive? Were you attracted to that?), and says, "Well...maybe I need to explain a few things."
"Do you?" You question, your voice about ten octaves above where it normally sat. How many times could you ask yourself, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
He seemed to swallow (and you only noticed because you were absolutely OGLING his features), and trys to talk, coming up with nothing.
He motions for you to sit down on the little couch he had, matching his dark aesthetic.
"Let me just tell you what happened last night."
○○○
"Do you still have a dartboard?!" You screamed into Tony's ear. No reason to. It was the after party of the real party, the only people left were the residents of the tower.
"Ooh! Yes! Darts!" Tony hopped up, like a joyful child.
"No!" Steve grabbed the back of Tony's shirt, pulling him back. Tony's dramatic ass flopped himself onto the floor, whining like a toddler.
"I never get to do anything fun!"
You had abandoned the idea of darts, and were now playing a game of dodgeball with Clint. Except that there were no balls, only drinking glasses.
It was around that time the sober members elected to take the drunkest of the drunk to bed.
Steve took Tony, Bucky chose you over Clint (leaving Nat stuck with him).
Clint collapsed himself to the floor, smashing his knee on a pile of drinking glass shards (you had missed).
"Point by omission!" You yelled like a battle cry.
Bucky touched your shoulder, "Cmon doll, let's head to bed."
"For you? Anything!" You threw the glass you were holding in Clints direction, and he screamed at you in Arabic (no one knew Clint spoke Arabic. Upon questioning, neither did he).
Bucky got you to the hallway, and that was about as much as he could do without picking you up and carrying you to bed, which he admitted he would have if you didn't scream in protest when he tried.
He led you to your room, and left.
He got in his bed, closed his eyes, and let out a breath. Before he could process the sound of his door open, you catapulted yourself onto the bed.
Apparently, he tried to send you back a couple times, but after that you would start removing articles of clothing everytime you came in.
Well, that explained that situation.
"So I eventually just let you stay," Bucky shrugged. "I was tired."
You couldn't decided whether to laugh or cry, finally saying, "Holy fuck, I'm so sorry."
Bucky let out a loud laugh, his smile cresting dimples under his eyes, "Trust me, don't worry about it. Steve is a much worse drunk."
"I'm gonna need that story."
"I could tell it to you over dinner," You almost don't take it in before saying yes. You only hesitate slightly, before smiling and agreeing.
That smooth fucker.
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talesofely · 3 months
Text
— Desired Reality
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A Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader Series
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Summary : Seven people who claimed to be from another universe arrived at the Avengers Tower out of nowhere. The fact that the group of people—NOVA—are essentially Avengers clones only serves to further complicate matters. The only unmistakable distinction between them is that they are of opposing sexes. How will things play out for the two groups of superhumans?
Warnings : Strong Language (Will add more per chapter.)
Pairings : Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
A/n : horrible writing schedule, I'm sorry:( I just rlly miss Natasha that's why I decided to write this! :)
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Vigilantes (New Characters)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
...
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i-writes-things · 6 months
Note
HI! I want to say that I love you writing a lot, It's so good💖.
I was wondering if you could write (is you don't want to it's fine) Natasha x Teen!daughter reader where reader goes on a mission with Steve, but she doesn't come back and everyone is doing everything to find her but it's like only a few days later that they find her injured. (you can choose what happened and where they find and rescue her) and can you do it as a reader insert (if you don't want to that's totally fine.)
Thank you :) keep up the good work!💜
Aw thank you!
I haven't posted in a while.
So Mama!Nat seems like a good reboot to start with.
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"Hey, mom."
"What the hell were you thinking." Natasha growls at Steve before glancing at you.
"I wasn't." Steve starts, "I was unconscious. Y/n saved us. Me, really."
"That I did." Y/n is laying uncomfortably in the grass, her leg propped up. "Barely."
"Steve, I told you to keep her in your sights."
"I did-"
"He was, Mom!"
"Y/n, this isn't your mess." She turned back to scold Steve, but Y/n wasn't having it.
"Not my mess. I'm the one who cleaned the whole damn thing up!" Steve mumbled something with his head down as Natasha turned back toward her daughter. "I dragged Steve out. I cleared the building, I got the hard drive, I was the one who contacted you! Steve was out cold up until 10 hours ago!" Wishing she could stomp away right about now, Y/n huffed and worked on moving herself to a better position. Natasha was silent, tapped her shoe on the ground. Steve walked away.
"Bruce!" He went looking for the little green man.
"I'm sorry."
"For-"
"For forgetting you're not my 8 year old babygirl, who accidentally lit fireworks in the Compound, anymore." She lowered herself to meet Y/n. "You're now," She pulled your chin back towards her "my brave, ambitious and amazing young woman." Taking a glance at your swollen knee, she whispers, "I'm so proud of you."
"I tripped an alarm." You began, "Steve was sitting out in the hall and I thought," Steve and Bruce's footsteps could be heard.
"I thought I was gonna be attacked!" Y/n voice totally changes, leaving Natasha suspicious and Steve told Bruce to listen in. "I mean he was coming for me, Steve," She gestured to him "out in the wall and they gotten me and silly unconscious Steve cornered, quite easily actually." Natasha stared at Y/n trying to get the whole story. She couldn't find a reason. "I had him in choke hold-" Steve threw his hand in the air and Bruce took Steve over to a makeshift table to look "I just tripped." Y/n looked down at her stupid swollen knee.
"What?"
"We weren't cornered, I only had to take down maybe 3 guys. Be that was way before this. I thought I could be cool and do a flip off the wall. Try to at least, I was feeling it and I tripped as I ran to the wall."
"Thank god." Natasha closes her eyes in thanks.
"What? That I fell? Thanks mom. Love you too."
"Young lady, we both know you would have needed stitches if you tried that." Y/n huffed feeling defenseless.
"Whatever."
"So you tried to tell Steve a cooler story." She cocked an eyebrow.
"Tried? I did tell him a way cooler story. Now he thinks more of me! Goal Accomplished!" Y/n smiled, pumping a fist in the air.
"Oh. my. god. Your gonna have to tell him."
"Mom, no." You dreaded this.
"Y/n, yes!" She booped your nose. "You tell him or I do!" She said in a sing song voice. Y/n groans and stands with Natasha's help, wobbling back to the Quin jet.
"I hate Steve sometimes you know that. Why can't he just be oblivious? Mom pleeasse!"
"Okay baby, I'll tell him."
"No no. I will fine fine, you've convinced me. You're so mean." Y/n and Natasha continued to hobble along on the grass.
"Love you too." Natasha waves Steve and Bruce back and they all ride home together.
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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years
Note
For your sleepover I want to officially request that treesome with bruce and tony 😝 if this is really okay with you, of course
pairing: tony stark x inexperienced shy! reader x bruce banner
word count: ~750 words
warnings: oral, nipple play, fingering, come feeding.
a/n: this is a headcanons type of thingy! second to last from my sleepover :) hope you hoes will enjoy! and have cute gif :)
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NSFW under the cut. minors dni.
You never expected to be here working at the avengers' lab working alongside such heroes and such geniuses and what you expected even less was Tony realizing how short your breath got when he whispered against your ear every time he wanted to look at your readings.
You weren't the type to talk, you were shy by nature and didn't like drawing attention to yourself, always avoiding questions and giving vague answers.
It didn't take long for Tony to understand you had a crush on him what surprised him was having also a crush on Bruce. He knew by the way you stared from afar and then disappeared every time he called you close. How your breath changed when he ordered you to do something for him.
So he set up a plan to have you confess by touching you and caressing your body, watching you tremble as you tried to surpass squeals.
You felt a little bit intimated by them, you were so young and they were so experienced and mature and the way grey hairs were visible on both of them had you falling in love even faster.
And so one morning you ended up on the receiving end of his kiss, having his hand pinned above your head. And after a heavy make-out session, him coaxing your feelings out of your mouth until he confessed himself and having you admit your shared feelings for his friend, he had you in the lab sitting on the chair. Musing to Bruce about how he knows a secret that he doesn't.
And Tony begins to touch you, caressing your cheeks before massaging your shoulders and having you part your lips at his touch only to have Bruce stare at you both, the heat rising inside for him as well.
When Tony's hand reaches for your clothed breast, Bruce lets out such an animalistic growl that has you rubbing your legs together immediately.
"See how she reacts, huh? You didn't believe me when I told you, now look at her."
And Bruce does come up to see for himself, and he touches your neck, tracing your collarbone with his fingers that feel much heavier than Tony's delicate ones and drag them slowly till they reach for your bra.
Now both are cupping your bra until you are begging them to take it off. Tony chuckles as he does so, lifting up your shirt, taking it off, and smelling it ferally before throwing it on the floor and your bra is gone only to get replaced by Bruce's heavy hands folding and holding your breasts.
Tony's lips connect to yours once more, leaving you absolutely breathless as Bruce's lips end up at your nipples, switching between them both and alternating his movements.
You move and move and move your legs, ribbing them together, trying to wrap them around Bruce but to no avail.
Tony's one hand reaches for your core, sneaking underneath your clothes and your mouth hangs open as his hand stick to your wetness.
And you whimper and Bruce glances down to look at your wetness with such ferocity in his eyes that makes the heat in the pit of your stomach utterly unbearable.
And you start to plead, a chorus of pleases until two fingers slip inside you, both at the same time, and they begin to explore your pussy, both leaning down on the floor, alternating between fingering you and licking your pussy. Their hands reach for your breasts and your mouth while you are dutifully accepting them by sucking on their fingers like they are lollipops.
An hour later and you are still on the chair, three orgasms have been ripped out of your body while they are both caressing their cocks, and you stare between them both hazily begging to get filled, only to get denied for the time being.
"It's not time yet, you need to be stretched open, baby, you never had any cock before you won't be able to take it."
You don't know enough to deny that, all you can do is try to breathe in the chair while they are wanking their cocks over your mouth and breasts.
And when their fingers swoop up their cum to push it down your tongue telling you how good girls eat their food, all you can do is swallow and grin waiting for more.
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unholyhelbig · 4 months
Note
im in love with werewolf!kate
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Title: Once Bitten, Twice the Idiot [5/?]
Summary: After reader is attacked by a strange animal in the woods, her world is flipped upside down. Now she must navigate a new life filled with strangers and myths.
Trigger warnings: Talk about werewolf transformations, crying, group interventions [?], and definate spelling/grammar mistakes
[Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five]
Main Masterlist | Ao3 | Request Prompts
The compound seemed impersonal upon your second visit. It was nothing compared to the shitty apartment you had left earlier in the day. There were leaky ceilings and college students that would blast their music until dawn- but it had been home. It had been home, and this was anything but. This was an overwhelming smattering of scents that aggravated your already tepid nerves.
Without Kate close by panic began to bubble up in your stomach. Then anger. That anger that she had mentioned outside of your building was there too and though you didn’t want to admit it, you had to. Kate Bishop had ruined your life and the fact that you sought her out so heavily filled you with white hot rage. So why did you need her so badly?
In an attempt to ease your nerves, they had separated the two of you two seconds after you’d walked back through the doors. Word seemed to travel fast around here, and you took a mental note to keep your mouth shut in all situations. It had been over an hour since Kate was dragged away by Clint and that ache in your chest grew malicious.
“There’s an electrically charged fence around the bulk of the property but it’s 165 acres of pure natural land. There’s a lot of space to run, but there’s not much way to escape.” Wanda Maximoff explained things to you like a recipe.
She had taken you on the grand tour, though the house was mostly cleared out. It was clear that they were trying not to scare you. There was an array of smells, and each was distinct, though it was behind closed doors. There was an in-house gym and a myriad of offices and bedrooms on the second floor. There was a library too, one that had more books than the location on campus.
Wanda seemed like the best choice to give you the grand tour. Though, you had yet to meet more than Clint and Natasha, and a few others distantly. There had to be a reason that she was the one easing you into this. She smelled of cinnamon and that sharp metal scent that seemed to accompany them all.
You now.
You had stopped walking in the middle of the lush green yard. In turn, so had she. Her gaze was on you and sympathetic. There was a buzz to the fence, one that you could hear from the spot that you were rooted in. Leaves rustled and small critters made noises that you were not supposed to hear, but you could.
“Not much?” You let out a burning breath that you had been holding in. “Pardon me for being rude, but if it’s so secure how did Kate… get out?”
Wanda swallowed hard and closed the distance between you. She had a pitying look in her stare that somehow didn’t enrage you. Instead, it reminded you of your mother. Of course, she’d been the right choice. You could see that a mile away.
“Kate is an extremely powerful and reckless individual. She has an incredible amount of heart but sometimes that gets her in trouble. When you change, and you will change, you’ll understand the yearning a bit more. Usually, your wolf will be satiated with just feeling free- hence all the land. But sometimes there is an emotion so strong that there is no option other than to obey.”
“There’s an emotion strong enough to make her break through an electric fence and attack me?”
She snorted out a laugh, glancing up at the fading blue of the sky. There was a stronger chill to the air as the sun dipped behind the horizon. A fishbone moon was hanging in the air. It was never something that you paid much attention to before. But you were quite thankful that it wasn’t full. That wasn’t something you could handle anytime soon.
“Y/n, did Natasha mention that the two of us are together?”
“No, she didn’t.” You frowned, testing the waters “You’re so… and she’s so…”
“Oh, she’s an absolute hard ass. I’m well aware. She’d dumped her coffee all over the front of my shirt when we first met and apologized by paying for a new one. Natasha wrote her number on the side and wee dated for nearly a year before she told me her secret.”
The two of you started walking again, this time along a carved path that rested at the mouth of the backyard. Soon the grass devolved into underbrush and large stretching oak trees. Gravel crunched under the soles of your shoes. The rage shifted it’s way back into the small of your mind.
“I was taken aback, understandably. The woman I had fallen in love with sat me down and when I thought she was going to break up with me she told me she was a mythical creature instead. And I was mad. I thought she was lying and making excuses instead of being honest.”
Wanda let out a shaky sigh, one that was wracked with memories of what seemed to be a simpler time. There was a fondness in her stare that you craved in a selfish way. Because you wanted to feel that fondness for Kate, but it hadn’t quite bubbled to the surface yet.
“For almost a month, I didn’t speak to her. But on the night of the full moon, my curiosity got the better of me and I showed up at her house unprompted. It took some convincing. Natasha isn’t one for vulnerability, especially when that vulnerability is something that could cause me physical harm but I’m persistent.”
“You uh, I don’t know the terminology” there was a pause “you watched her become…”
“I did. And I’m not going to sugar coat this for you because it is not a pretty sight, and it is far from painless. But I believed her. Finally, I believed her and though I wanted to run there was a moment between the bones breaking and the screaming, where that honesty seeped out of Natasha like blood. I was her one. I was her person.”
Wanda laughed and shook her head. You’d made it a good way through the path and the sun had fully set behind the horizon, but it didn’t impair your vision one bit. You could see just the same, everything having a gray fuzzy tinge to it.
“Subconsciously, there is a pull in what we are. Natasha told me she knew I was her destiny when she spilled a caramel macchiato on me. And I love her, but I didn’t know just how strong that feeling was until I made the decision to change. To let her change me.”
“You willingly chose this?”
The question had slipped past your lips before you could stop it and you immediately felt guilty about the phrasing. Wanda reached and squeezed your palm with the coolness of her fingers. Comfort shot up your elbow and your shoulder until you felt all the warmth in the world.
“I did. It took a lot of conversation, a lot of planning but I was sure that Natasha was the only one and she was equally sure about me. So yes, I chose. And I am truly sorry that that liberty was stripped from you.” She gave your hand another squeeze. “The wolf that’s inside of you, that primal side is what took Kate over. It’s no excuse, her young naivety isn’t an excuse. But I know you feel it, and what you’re feeling right now is only a fraction of what she felt that night.”
That burning sensation in the pit of your stomach was utterly unbearable. It hadn’t gone away since Kate had bitten you. Not when you shoved cold lasagna into your mouth or swallowed three glasses of water. Nothing dulled the pain except your proximity to Kate.
“You’re saying that we’re destined to be together?” You scoffed, breath forming in a cloud.
“That’s for the two of you to decide.”
Wanda stopped in the middle of the path. She grasped your other hand and her solemn energy crept through her touch almost as if she transferred it directly to you. That burning ache in your stomach threatened to calm.
“This is a lot to take in, leaving everything behind and being thrown into the deep end of a world you don’t understand. But I am here for you and Clint is here for you, and so is Bruce and Peter. All four of us… all four of us were ushered into this life instead of born into it. Some by choice and some by chance. And regardless of how we got here, we know the struggle that it carries. We’re here, y/n.”
The room that was given to you was set up in the same beige colors as the rest of the house. Wanda had the same kindness that she seemed to always exude as she explained that you could paint and decorate however you wanted. It was yours, and despite this being a fancy prison, you could always make it feel a little less like a prison.
It was when you were left with your thoughts, did you become wracked with discomfort. The house was mostly silent. Wanda had explained to you the purposeful thickness of the walls. They were meant to dull sounds and form privacy. That- you were thankful for.
There were minimal scents in here and if you tried hard enough, you knew that you could relax. As long as you didn’t think about the fact that you had given up your scholarship, and your life with your friends and your family and your heart was pounding unforgivably in your chest until you were forced to sit up on the wrinkled comforter.  
It took a few moments before you realized that someone was knocking on the door. You stood, opening it despite your better judgement. Maybe it would be Wanda with her soothing nature again, or even Natasha to slap some sense into you.
Instead, it was Kate Bishop. She looked like a kicked puppy, her stormy gray stare boring into yours with enough apologies to last a lifetime. But you didn’t want to hear it. Not at the moment and probably not for the foreseeable future.
Though, you had to admit, everything seemed to simmer down with her familiar clove scent. Her hands were in the pockets of her pajama pants, and she held up a brown bag filled with fast food. The grease had soaked through the paper in dark splotches.
You hadn’t eaten since yesterday and embarrassingly, your stomach growled in response. It gave you away. Whatever was in that bag smelled absolutely divine. Kate tried to stifle the smirk on her lips in a comical expression. She had won.
The door opened wider as you stepped aside. “I know we talked about Italian on the bus ride over here, but the only place within sixty miles is a burger joint and I’m helpless in the kitchen.”
“This is perfect. Thank you, Kate.”
The two of you sat on the floor close to the double windows that led to a small balcony. At first, you were tempted to pull the curtains in front of them. It was easier to ignore the eyes that stared back in the reflection. Your own eyes but something different and carnal about them that you weren’t ready to confront.
Kate had supplied you with one of the messiest cheeseburgers that you had ever eaten and a basket of equally as damp fries. It was the best thing you had ever tasted. You were admittedly starving and had been since the moment you woke up.
“God, this is,” you used your thumb to wipe a bit of ketchup “This is good. Not enough to forgive you yet good, but fucking delicious.”
She cleared her throat “I didn’t expect one burger to get me in your good graces. But I figured you were hungry. It’s been a big couple of days.”
“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘I’m sorry’, don’t you dare ruin the bliss this burger brings me.”
She laughed, a beautiful sound. Kate moved from her spot on the floor to one that was next to you. She still gave you distance, a good couple of inches. Her back was against the side of the bed and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments.
Your reflections were distorted. Between you rested the moon. The real moon that you had noticed outside with Wanda. It was brighter than it had been, or maybe you were just closer. It’s pale light vibrated against your skin and filled you with a tingling sensation.
It wasn’t fondness exactly. It was like pulling a cozy blanket around you and basking in it’s effects. Like the room around you is cold, frost creeping up the windows, and the only solace is that small piece of fabric. The moon warmed you. You wanted to swim in it.
“How long do I have?” You whispered; Kate scrunched up her face into a half-frown. She looked at you. “Wanda told me about the first time she saw Natasha change. She wouldn’t go into details, and I don’t blame her. But it sounded… painful.”
Kate crossed her legs and picked at the fuzz on her socks. She successfully plucked two balls of lint off the pattern before she spoke. “My family is rich. It’s uh, it’s generational. They’ve always had the best in everything. The biggest homes, the fanciest clothes, the best cars. The strongest cellars.”
You weren’t quite sure where she was going with this. Part of you stifled your anger. You had worked your ass off through high school to just get the vague chance of a college education. All of that was shattered because of the girl next to you. All of that was something that you were starting to understand. That dull ache was thrumming in the pit of your stomach, ever eased by Kate’s presence.
“I’m sticking my foot in my mouth. None of that matters. Growing up with generations of lycanthropy and having it treated like a prize. It’s disjointing. My father believed that that pain made you stronger, and that embracing that rage instead of commuting it was the way to go. And I thought the same until I met Clint.”
Kate let out a wavering breath. She played with the rings on her fingers, twirling them around until there was a little red mark on her skin. It seemed to dissipate just as soon as it had appeared.
“I was thirteen the first time that I turned. And I begged, pleaded with everyone around me to do something, anything, that would ease the agony of that first transformation. I was met with the silent treatment. And… I was a child. I was a scared child that wanted comfort.”
You reached forward and placed a hand on her knee. There was an electricity that flowed through the both of you, a specific energy that buzzed in the same way it had with Wanda, but different somehow. Stronger and all-consuming. She placed her hand on top of yours.
“The night of the full moon, my father locked me in one of those strong cellars. There was no light, no comfort. Nothing but a musty prison that had a small window out of reach. It was just big enough to let in the moonlight. The walls, they were torn up and bloody. It was all I could smell and think about.”
Kate paused to pull in another breath. “For years, I was convinced that was the only way to do things. Embrace the pain and let it harden you. But things are done differently here, y/n. It’s not going to be easy, but you’re not going to be alone. You won’t be locked in a cellar to feel that pain. And I have no quarrels if you don’t want me there-“
“Kate,” you interrupted her, “I want you there. Because despite everything, your presence is reassuring and I think that’s what I’m going to need.”
She gave you a sad smile, yet somehow it was still endearing. There was an exhaustion that settled over you in the same moment. Your stomach was full, and your eyes were feeling heavy. Tentatively, you rested your head against her shoulder, embracing her scent and her comfort.
For a half a second, she tensed but melted just as you had. The silence was far from uncomfortable and you drifted into her protection, dropping into sleep with the sound of her heartbeat in tandem with your own.
The living room, despite it’s size, was filled to the brink with people that all turned their eyes to you upon arrival. You knew that this was coming, the introduction phase. It reminded you of college orientation without the stifling June heat that made it impossible to pull in a proper breath.
You still couldn’t draw in one correctly, not with this many eyes and this many smells. It was like ripping a band aid off and you were incredibly thankful that they had let you get a full nights sleep before springing this on you.
At some point, you had crashed on Kate’s shoulder on the plush carpet of your room. She’d moved you to the bed and you woke up there alone but well rested. It took you a few moments to gather yourself and shove the sadness of leaving your life to the back of your mind. There were things to do, people to meet.
Kate was next to you. She leaned on the edge of the closest sofa and let you take in everything- everyone- that lingered. One man stood at the forefront of it all. He was massive, well built in a way that his strength commanded the attention of the room. There was a kindness in his stare too, one that you admittedly admired right off the bat.
“Hello,” he said it so simply, reaching his massive hand out “I’m Steve.”
“Y/n” You took his hand and shook it timidly.
Steve glanced at the waiting faces around the room. Each one watched with bated breath for him to speak. You even found yourself entrapped by his mere stance. “Everyone, y/n is going to be staying with us for the foreseeable future. This is a situation that we have yet to encounter, and I expect each and every one of you to treat it with the respect and care it deserves.”
There were a few faces that you didn’t recognize, but they seemed to accept the decree. Kate’s hand found its way to the small of your back out of view of the others. It steadied you, though you didn’t know you were unsteady in the first place.
It was explained to you that you were quite the exception to the house. Wanda was clear about how this group had formed and nowhere was it stated that someone who had never turned before was here. Each and every person had a solid grip on who they were- what they were.
“Should we play an ice breaker?” A man that was spread across most of the middle seat on the section asked. He had darkened eyes, black hair that was spiked with an obscene amount of gel. “Two truths and a lie?”
Natasha smirked wolfishly “I like this game; Tony Stark is a humungous ass, Tony Stark is so full of himself he has six mirrors in his room, and Tony Stark wears sunglasses inside like a douche.”
“Second one is the lie; I have eight mirrors in my room and each and every one of them is necessary.”
You pursed your lips to stop the smile from spreading across your face. Natasha tossed a throw pillow and nailed him in the face. He shifted it into his lap, settling there with an eyeroll. Your view was blocked by a man that towered over you.
Steve was big. Tony was big. Clint was big. But this man was an absolute giant. He radiated a warmth that was unmatched and crunched you into a hug. Your cheek was pressed against his chest, and you gave it a pat.
“Don’t suffocate her,” Kate urged gently.
“My apologies Katie” He pulled back, keeping his massive hands on both of your shoulders “I’m Thor, you know, like the God of Thunder.”
“It fits,” You said with a smile.
There was a level of trust about him. Maybe it was his sheer size, or maybe it was his beaming smile that was nothing but genuine. He eased you more than most in the room. When he stepped aside, you were met with the last stranger in the room.
A man that seemed to draw within himself but still shook your hand with a practiced confidence. His button-down was wrinkled, his hair messy. He wore these thick rimmed glasses that enhanced his stare. There was a gentleness about him, a timidness.
“Bruce Banner, it’s great to meet you, y/n.”
They fit together like a family. All of these strangers that each had their individual quirks but were more than comfortable longing around, just existing in the same area. They’d all come from different backgrounds and chose to linger in this large house. They chose to be a group. A unit. A pack.
For a long time, America was the only one that was in your life, the only constant. Your parents were in the background; one worked too much and the other drank too much and neither cared all that much. Watching the way these strangers interacted, the community they created for themselves, made you feel like maybe it would be okay. Maybe all of this would be okay.
Steve cleared his throat and the room stilled, all eyes leading back to him. He scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the attention for only a millisecond before he smoothed back into himself. “The full moon is in two weeks’ time. We know the drill, but y/n doesn’t. It’s going to be difficult and different, and we’re going to have to prepare.”
“I have drugs,” Yelena said. There was a silence that shrouded the room as everyone blinked dumbly at the woman. “What? Not anything heavy. But enough to sedate her!”
“We are not sedating her, we’ve been through this” Clint responded.
They’d spoken about this? Truthfully, from the accounts you had gotten from Kate and Wanda, you would be more than happy to take something to knock you out. Though it seemed important to feel the pain too. Almost like a right of passage.
“That is y/n’s decision to make.” Bruce said. He addressed you, making you feel less like an observer to your own fate. “One that you don’t have to make right now, might I add.”
Steve held his hand up, quieting everyone once more. “There are natural ways of doing things too. And trust us, y/n, we will break down every single option you have until you find a comfortable solution to the predicament. Don’t be afraid to ask questions.”
Your tongue was tied at the prospect, and soon the meeting was dismissed. They were weekly, you learned, and part of you didn’t mind. A house this size with that many people could get messy quickly without some sort of pecking order.
The library on the second floor was home to bound leather books that recounted the history of lycanthropy. It was warm up there, large windows letting in enough sunlight to show the particles of dust as they float in the air.
Not many people use this place. It was kept tidy but the scent that hung in the air was mainly aged paper and wood polish. You’d pulled one of the leather books from the shelf and curled up in the window seat. The pages were yellowed and brittle but filled with invaluable information.
This was the first moment in the last few days where your mind felt quiet. Your world was quiet.
Hours passed as you worked your way through literature, through Norse mythology of a curse, and pelts that would let men roam the countryside as wolves until they gained their lucidity again. There were diary entries from families that were descended from lunacy; the Bishops and Rodgers and Odinson’s and many more that you could not recognize.
You’d made it through two and half books before the light bouncing off the pages shifted to a vibrant orange of the sunset. You’d been left to your own devices for the day, and you rubbed your eyes, tired from the constant strain.
There was a quiet knock at the door and the scent of turkey filled your lungs. You blinked a few times. Steve leaned against the doorframe, holding a plate filled with a pile of potato chips and a sandwich. You’d again, forgotten to eat.
“I come in peace,” He said, entering the room and setting the plate of food on the table in the center of the room. He gestured to the other end of the window seat. “May I?”
You nodded, pulling your feet back and tucking them under yourself. “This is the second time in the last twenty-four hours that I’ve been bribed with food.”
 “It’s a love language around here. Learn anything interesting?”
“That a lot of werewolves are French and it’s much easier to be a one in the twenty first century.”
He chuckled and the sound was nice. It made sense that he was in charge. Being around him made things feel like they were solvable. The many answers floating around in your mind, the fears, could center into one concrete thing.
“The French gave us a bad name, I’m afraid. But you’re right about the second part. I wasn’t lying when I said that there are multiple ways to go about this.”
“Like drugs?”
“That’s one option, yes. Clint told me that one of the first things you were concerned about was keeping everyone around you safe.”
You nodded, pulling your legs up to your chest and resting your chin against them. The only reason you had gone along with all of this was to keep the people you love safe. That combined with the deep seeded feeling that all of this was real had lured you here, had kept you here.
“I’m trying not to be angry.” You admitted in a small, weak voice. “There is this deep rage that I could blame on whatever emotional distress these books outline. But nothing will change the fact that one minute I had a chemistry quiz due at midnight and the next I was waking up in a filth of rotted leaves and my own blood. And the only thing I can think about is that I have every right to hate her but I… I can’t.”
Steve was patient, silent in his ministrations. He turned a gold band on his ring finger around and around, much like Kate had. It was a nervous habit, something that soothed him, you supposed.
“I have always been able to handle anything that’s thrown at me. Always. Life has a mass of problems and those problems can be solved but this doesn’t feel real. It won’t feel real until I’m there but I’m- I’m scared. I’m so scared.”
You tried to smother the bloom of emotions in your chest, but it wasn’t working. There was an immense shame in cracking in front of Steve that you couldn’t quite explain but he seemed to have no quarrels about your tears or wiping them away with a calloused hand.
“This shouldn’t have happened.” He said with a shaky breath “And you have every right to be angry. I would be angry. No one expects you to forgive and we certainly don’t expect you to forget. What’s happened is unfair. But we can ease that fear.”
You swallowed hard, throat dry “how?”
“Well, drugs” He gave you a weak smile, and you snorted out a laugh. “But if we want to do things old school, that’s possible. It’s recommended, really. This place is built for people like us, and even though right now it feels like a curse, like a burden, maybe fate intervened.”
Your head thud softly against the bookcase behind you, “Fate carries the last name Bishop.”
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swan-of-sunrise · 1 year
Note
Omg that Bruce Banner fic was SO FREAKING ADORABLE!!!💚
Thank you, I'm so happy that you enjoyed it! 💖
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The Halcyon Hypothesis
Fanfiction Masterlist
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prettykittycastle · 7 months
Text
Why Me?
Summary: The last thing Bruce expected to happen to him was getting a blowjob in the lab.
(The reader uses she/her pronouns and is 18+. The ethnicity/race is preferably black.)
(Content Warning: blowjob, oral sex, male receiving, slight dirty talk, slight sub-Bruce)
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"You should relax, Dr. Banner."
"You're always so tense, doctor. I can help with that."
"Maybe the Hulk wants you to have some fun."
At the feel of your warm tongue running over the head of his cock, Bruce thought over the things you had said to him before this night. Of course at the time, he didn't realize you were constantly making suggestions to him, his focus always on his lab work. But now, lightly shuddering at feeling the tip of your tongue run against the slit in his tip, he felt incredibly stupid to not notice them sooner.
"Mmmm," you hummed, sliding his member into your mouth, instantly the salty taste of him on your tongue made your mouth water.
"Oh God," he moaned, closing his eyes and laying his head back against his lab chair, his legs shaking.
"How ya feeling, Doctor? Still tense?" you slipped him out of your mouth and asked him. You wrapped your hand around him and held him firmly, grinning up at the sight of the anxious scientist before you.
For a while you had been trying to get his attention, wanting so badly to have him writhing in pleasure and finally have him be able to relax. Tonight was gonna be your last night of trying to catch his attention and if he didn't catch on yet, you were planning on moving on, but it seems that the universe had finally decided to do you a favor, and Bruce finally noticed you.
Now looking at him, you just wanted to rip all his clothes off and ride the fuck out of him. His lab coat was spread open, the first couple buttons on his shirt were unbuttoned and some of the hair on his chest was showing, his glasses askew upon his face, and his pants were pulled down around his knees. Be patient, you told yourself, wanting so badly to hear him moan your name.
"Y-yeah,...n-no," he quickly changed his answer, trying to keep control of his mind and his urge to thrust into your hand. "Uh, (Y/N)-"
"Bruuuce," you cooed at him, beginning to slowly jerk him off, the saliva from your mouth making it easy. "Just relax for me, sweetie."
Easier said than done, he thought, closing his eyes tighter at the feel of your hand jerking him off. He knew that agreeing to this was risky, worrying that the big guy would appear at any moment, but he couldn't turn down the opportunity to have you, of all people, on your knees, ready to have his dick in your mouth.
"Please," he begged. He didn't have to say what he was begging for because you already knew and by the time, he opened his mouth, ready to say something else, your lips were wrapped around his member again.
"Mmm," you moaned around him, loving the salty taste of him on your tongue. Lowering your head, you relaxed your jaw and throat to take him deep into your mouth till your lips stopped halfway down his cock. When you felt that you couldn't fit anymore of him in, you let the saliva from your mouth run down his length before wrapping both of your hands around the rest of him. Bobbing your head and stroking him, you couldn't control the moans escaping your mouth and traveling to him. You had been fantasizing about this for so long and now you couldn't be happier to feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue.
Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm. Bruce tried to remind himself this as he tried and failed to keep his lower half from lifting itself up from the chair and attempting to fuck your sweet mouth. He could feel his heart rate picking up and he worried that the other guy might make an appearance at the worst time.
"Shit, (Y/N)," Bruce groaned, letting his head fall back onto his lab chair while clenching the armrests tightly. "S-Slow down, please."
Your response to this request from him was simply bobbing your head faster, swallowing as much of him as you could, letting drool run out of your mouth and down his cock, helping you stroke him faster.
You didn't need to look up to know that the skin on his knuckles were probably turning green by how tightly he was holding the armrests and you wondered how long they would last before they completely broke off from the chair.
It's been so long. I'm not gonna last. He realized. The last time he had any type of sexual interaction was years, before the appearance of Hulk. After him, he never thought he'd ever get a chance to touch another person this way again.
"Bruuuce," you said, pulling your mouth away from him, but still stroking him. You looked up at him and couldn't help the smirk that grew on your face at seeing his head laid all the way back, holding onto the armrests for dear life.
"(Y/N)," he moaned your name again, hearing you call his name and forcing his eyes to open, and when they finally did, he instantly regretted it. The sight below him almost made him cum right then and there, but thanks to his years of perfecting control over the big guy, he held himself back from cumming too early. Seeing your (E/C) eyes look up at him, hazy and full of lust, your mouth and chin shining from the saliva on his dick, and the string of it hanging loosely from your bottom lip and his tip was almost too much for the poor scientist who had thought he would be living a life of celibacy because of his condition.
"How ya feel, Dr. Banner? You relaxed yet?" Your smirk grew wider, feeling his dick grow harder in your hands at you taunting him.
"Y-yes, yes, I am," he replied back, his eyes barely open as he tried to hold himself off from cumming, but your words were too much. "Please, (Y/N)."
"What is it," you asked, your voice changing to a lighter, more innocent tone despite what you were currently doing. "Bruce, what is it?"
"Aah," He moaned loudly, straining to control himself, his mind almost completely lost to lust. "I'm-I'm close t-to-"
"Close to cumming," you finished his statement, slightly tightening your grip and quickening your strokes. You could practically feel the cum waiting to burst from him. "You wanna cum?"
He couldn't find it in himself to open his mouth to speak, and simply nodded his head.
"Tell me. You wanna bust a nut on my face or in my mouth?"
"Oh God," he whimpered, lifting his hips to fuck your hands, his desperation evident.
"I'm fine with either one," you told him before lowering your head down to swallow his dick again, moaning at his hardness, and wiggling your tongue against the underside of him.
At that moment, Bruce couldn't handle it anymore, and before he knew it, his cum came spurting out of him in long, white, salty ropes down your throat to which you gladly accepted swallowing as much of it as you could.
If seeing you on your knees for him was already too much, watching you through half open eyes, gobbling and swallowing his cum was too overwhelming and he had to force his hand to let go of his armrest and use it to lightly push your head away.
"Shit, shit. Stop." He could feel himself becoming overstimulated, and knew without a doubt that if he got anymore stimulated, the big guy would definitely show up.
You didn't move at first, happily slurping up everything he offered and more, before deciding he had enough. You lifted your head from him and took a breath, wiping some of the spit from your face and gathering any cum that escaped from your mouth onto your fingers.
"Why," he asked, trying to catch his breath, and attempt to lower his heart rate back down. "Why...me?"
"What do you mean 'why you'," you asked, putting your cum-covered fingers in your mouth and sucking it off.
Seeing you do this, he had to take a second to calm himself down, before responding. "I mean...why out of all the guys in this building, you chose me? Why not Tony, Steve, Sam, Thor? Why me?"
The way he asked that made your heart almost break and suddenly the urge to fuck him grew tremendously stronger, wanting to give this man as much pleasure as you could.
"I don't want Tony or Steve or any of the others. Just you, Bruce. I like you. I think you're hot."
"Yeah, but," he sat up in the chair and straightened himself, his usual shyness coming back over him. "But why me? Why do you like me? The guy that has a big green rage monster in him."
"Because I think it's hot how smart, sweet, caring, and shy you are, Bruce." As you told him this, you stood up from the lab floor, wincing at the small ache in your knees and climbed into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulder. "I've liked you for a while. And if you just want this to be a one time thing, I'm cool with that. But I also want us to be something." You knew that one of the reasons the scientist tended to distance himself from the others was not just because of his shy nature, but also because of his worry of how he, the team, and others viewed him and his second half. He saw his second half as a monstrous nuisance and thought that the team might as well, but you knew that was wrong and you want to show him that you view him as more than the Hulk, and as Bruce Banner.
"I can control him most times, but every now and then, he wants out and it's hard to put him back in," he warned you, placing his hands on your hips.
"That's fine. We'll handle it together." You laid a gentle kiss upon his lips, aware that he still has to calm his heart down from your blowjob. He didn't say anything else and kissed you back with a surprising amount of vigor that seemed to make the fire in between your legs burn stronger.
"You know we have to be careful in the future when it comes to...this," he pulled away and warned you.
"We will and we will have a lot of fun, too," you told him, going back to kissing him. Even though, you two had just made it official, you were already thinking of the many things you wanted to do to this man, and unbeknownst to you, Bruce was thinking of the many positions he could put you in by the end of the night, how to not risk the big guy coming out while doing so.
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Can you please do Bruce Banner with 8&9 much love ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
Watching
Bruce Banner x plus size reader
Bruce likes proving that even if you find others attractive, they will never own your cunt the way that he does
Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, little bit of voyeurism, possessive!Bruce, Thor knows all 😏
WC: 492
Minors DNI
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3000 Follower Celebration
Bruce knew you had a crush on Thor. I mean it was pretty obvious given how you would clam up around the god, especially when he was working out. Bruce trusted you, he knew you would never cheat, but it was still so much fun to tease you.
And the one-way mirror that overlooked the weights room in the Avenger’s compound was absolutely a godsend for the good doctor. 
The glass was freezing against the burning skin of your tits as you were pressed into it, your breath quickly causing condensation to form on the smooth surface. “B-Bruce.” You moaned, trying to reach back for your fiancé but he instead grabbed your wrist and pinned it to your lower back, his pace unwavering.
“Look at him while I fuck you.” He groaned, redirecting your lust-filled gaze back to the gym where Thor was working out. He was shirtless (as per usual), sweat dripping down his tanned skin like droplets of gold, leading your eyes to his rippling abs and dark snail trail that ended right above his tiny workout shorts. The bulge in the grey fabric was fucking magnificent and your cunt clenched down on the cock inside of you at the sight.
“Jesus, loosen up, you’re squeezing me so tight.” Bruce’s hips stuttered, suddenly incredibly close to cumming.
“T-too much.” You stuttered and attempted to pull away from his incredibly thick cock. Two calloused fingertips made contact with your clit, sending you further towards the edge. 
“Watch him, watch him and know that he will never be the one to make you cum like this.” With a brutal thrust straight to your g-spot and a particularly firm pinch of your clit, you came violently around him. “Shit!” Bruce followed soon after, burying himself to the hilt inside of you and coating your pulsing walls with his release.
“If I didn’t know any better, I would say that you enjoyed the view as well my love.” You cooed as you caught your breath. Bruce chuckled and placed a kiss to your bare shoulder before he carefully pulled out of you, causing you to hiss.
“We’ll explore that some other time honey. But I do unfortunately have to get back to work.” You reached back and brought your lips to his in a sweet kiss, a stark contrast to your previous activities.
“Go on. I’ll see you for dinner tonight.” He smiled shyly and with one last kiss, he did up his pants and sneakily left the small observation room. You dressed quietly, cringing slightly at the feel of Bruce’s cooling seed seeping into your panties but you couldn’t complain much; you were the one that insisted on a mid-day quicky.
You took one last glance through the mirror only to catch Thor’s bright blue eyes staring directly at you. He winked and blew a kiss your way before he turned and sauntered towards the locker-room with a noticeable tent in his shorts.
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literaryavenger · 5 months
Text
Love Is A Battlefield
Summary: Bucky gets hurt during a mission and you can't help but blame yourself.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language cause why not. Mentions of Bucky's past. Injuries. Overprotective reader. Description of violence. Fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 4.5K
A/N: This was inspired by this post and a dream I had lol. I couldn't help but start writing and this is what came out. Enjoy.
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"Who the fuck do you think you’re calling a bitch, you ass?" you sneer at the guy to your left right before kicking him in the stomach and then bringing his head down on your knee when he doubles over, effectively knocking him out.
"Language!" you hear in you earpiece and roll your eyes.
"Why don’t you shut the fuck up, Rogers." you tell him while making your way through the corridor, taking Hydra agents down as you go.
"Can’t you do this without cursing so much?!" he sounds more exasperated at you than at the agents he’s supposed to keep distracted outside.
"Can’t you stop bitching in my ear? I’m a little busy here!" all he answers with is a groan and you know you won this round.
You hear Sam crackling before he says "1-0 to Y/N." which makes you laugh.
"Thanks, Sammy."
"Anytime, baby." you roll your eyes at his nickname, the small distraction allowing an agent to get too close to you and you feel a sharp pain in your forearm and almost drop your gun.
"Shit!" you hiss at the pain and zero in on the idiot that cut you.
You can hear the concerned voices in your ear, but don’t allow yourself to get distracted again as you take care of the last few agents on your side of the building.
"Y/N, are you okay? What’s happening? Can someone get to her?" you hear Bucky’s voice for the first time since the mission started and you can’t help the warm feeling it brings, the concern in his voice making you answer almost immediately.
"Just give me a minute!" you say as you battle the last guy standing.
Once you’ve successfully knocked him out, you take a second to breathe before addressing the voices still coming to your ear while you make your way through the maze of corridors in this Hydra base.
"I’m okay guys, but apparently all these people have some sort of collective knife kink." you say and you can hear Steve’s annoyed groan and the rest of the team’s laughter as you check out your cut. Not too deep, you think to yourself.
You think you hear a relieved sigh between the laughter, but almost instantly forget about it as you finally come to the door you’ve been looking for.
"Clint, status?" you ask him since he’s on the roof, being the eyes on the whole operation.
"Everyone’s thoroughly distracted out here." he answers.
"Good. James, Sam, are you done with the explosives?" you can hear Sam grunting as you enter the room, locating the computer you need and turning it on.
"Just a second!" Sam says, you hear a couple of punches landing and then "Done. This place is ready to blow as soon as you have the files."
"And hurry, we can’t hold them off forever." Steve adds.
"Inserting the USB now, I need at least 5 minutes for the download to finish. Friday, remember to copy Hill at Shield HQ and to save the files in the Avengers private server." you tell the AI as you make your way through the office, grabbing files that seem important as the digital ones download.
"Really? Why the private server?" Steve asks between punches.
"Because, Captain Dumbass, these files could contain sensitive information about one of our own. We have to be careful with them." you say while still looking through the cabinets of papers.
"Do you have to be so mean to me?" he almost whines.
"Hey, it’s your best friend that I’m looking out for." you say almost laughing.
"Yeah, I’m sure it’s me you’re doing this for." You can basically hear the smirk in Steve’s voice but before you can answer, Natasha cuts in.
"Are you two done bickering?" she says annoyed.
"Oh no, please, let them keep going, this is so entertaining." Tony comments, but you get distracted from the conversation when you find a black box in one of the desk drawers that was previously locked, you open it and can’t help the gasp that escapes you. Bucky’s dog tags.
"Guys… do we have to blow up this base?" you ask, quieter than you’d like, leaving everyone else confused. Between all of the “what”s you hear Steve say your name.
"You know the drill, we download the digital files, save as much of the paper ones as we can and then blow the building up. This one’s no different." he tells you, but you can’t help but disagree.
"I think it is…" you can hear them asking you to explain, so you do, trying to find the right way to say this "I think… I think this is the first base they took James to." you say, still talking quietly but loud enough for them to hear.
The comms go silent, everyone processing what you just say, only the sound of battling going on, but you’re only worried about one person.
"James?"
Nothing.
"James, are you okay?" you can’t help but worry, his silence snapping you out of the trance you were in, you close the box you were still staring at and put it safely in your pocket, your hand going to your ear instinctively.
"Bucky?!" He still doesn’t answer.
You hear a bip behind you and Friday lets you know the download is complete, you take the drive and make your way out, your worry only increasing with every step.
"Does anyone have eyes on Barnes?" you ask the rest of the team.
"Oh no." Clint says, and you stop immediately, your heart beating out of your chest.
"What?! You can’t just say ‘oh no’ and not elaborate, Barton!" your mind is going into overdrive, not knowing what to expect.
"I have eyes on him, but you’re not gonna like it."
"What do you mean, Clint?! just say it!" this time Steve is the one to snap at him.
"He’s getting surrounded, it looks like he’s passed out." you swear you can actually feel your heart stopping.
"Can anybody get to him?" you say desperately.
"He’s got maybe 2 minutes before he’s surrounded, everybody’s too far or too busy." yeah, Clint’s really not giving you any good news today.
"Can’t you help him out?!" you almost yell at him.
"Not without hurting him, there are just too many!" he sounds more worried with every word and you know it’s bad. "Technically you’re the closest." He informs you and you frown.
"What do you mean, technically?" You look out the window of the corridor you found yourself in, looking towards the roof and find Clint already looking down at you while he speaks without stopping his aid of the others with his arrows.
"The second window to your left. He’s right under it." you go to said window and try to open it, but it’s closed shut.
"These windows are bulletproof, Clint can you break it somehow?"
"I can, but you could get hu-"
"Just do it!" you yell, cutting him off.
You can see him aim an arrow to the window, it hits its target and you can hear Clint counting down from 3 before it shatters.
You take no time to be careful of the glass as you take a little disk from your belt and press the button while pointing it at the ground.
A rope shoots out of it and anchors to the floor and, while attaching the other end to the back of your suit, you make a mental note to thank Tony for always updating your tactical suits with new useful gadgets.
You leap out the window, landing with your feet on the wall, basically running down on it as you take out your guns and start shooting down at the now dumbfounded agents.
Before they can even figure out where the shooting is coming from, you're on the ground next to Bucky, cutting the rope with a knife, then stabbing the agent closest to you.
You’re punching, kicking and shooting, trying your best not to get too far away from Bucky, basically shielding him with your body.
You hear a faint ‘holy shit’ from Clint and the other’s voices come through but you can’t follow the conversation, your whole focus on keeping Bucky safe.
You stray a little too far away from him as you do the take down move Natasha taught you on one of the agents, your legs around his neck as you bring him down to the ground.
When you turn around you see one guy getting dangerously close to Bucky’s unconscious body and you feel a sudden burst of possessiveness throughout your own body.
"He’s mine." you basically growl, taking a knife from the body of the guy you just took down and throwing it.
It lodges perfectly in his throat and he goes down right away, blood pouring out of him. You have no time to be disgusted as you keep taking down agents and, one after the other, they all drop.
The second the last one touches the ground, you're kneeling down next to Bucky.
"Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead, please don't be dead..." you keep repeating, looking for the button on his tactical suit that monitors his health. Again, thanks Tony. You find it and press it "Friday, vitals."
"Heartbeat detected." the AI says and you immediately let out a breath of relief, not even knowing when you started holding your breath. "Head injury detected, possible concussion. Various cuts throughout his body. No other injuries detected."
It could be worse.
You give yourself a second to breathe while looking at Bucky, then talk into your comm, not taking your eyes off of him.
"Ok, guys, uhm... Bucky’s ass may be cute but it’s heavy. I’m gonna need a hand here." you hear some snickers and then Clint’s voice. "Cap and Sam are on their way."
You’re still looking at Bucky, almost worried that the second you take your eyes off of him his heartbeat is gonna stop, when you hear footsteps behind you and, almost automatically, you grab a knife next to your foot and throw it.
You hear it before you see it, the metal of the knife hitting Cap’s shield before he lowers it and, his face shocked and glad for his fast reflexes, he says "Relax, it’s just us."
"Sorry, I’m a little jumpy."
"Gee, wonder why." Sam says sarcastically as you turn back to Bucky.
"Just take James to the jet, Sam."
"Why do I have to carry his ass?" he whines like a child.
"Because you can fly, birdbrain, you’ll get there before we make it to the front gate." you’re almost irritated at this point, but when you turn to the duo and Sam gives you an unimpressed look, you sigh and try to calm down.
"Sorry, just… take him to safety. Please." Your voice is soft now, Bucky’s well-being the only thing on your mind. Sam picks up on your concern and gets serious, moving towards Bucky to pick him up.
"I’ll take him to the jet. See you guys there." and with that, he takes off.
You watch him go for a second before you feel a hand on your shoulder, turning around to see Steve’s equally concerned face.
"Relax, you heard Friday, he’s gonna be fine. Even if he does have a concussion the serum will heal him in an instant." you know he's right, thanks to the serum his bones heal overnight, a concussion is nothing.
But still, you can’t help the worry you feel.
"I’ll relax when he’s awake and I can see he’s fine." he’s about to say something back when you hear Tony’s voice in your ear.
"If you two are done making out about it, we really should be getting out of here." you roll your eyes and smile a little at the pink color Steve’s cheeks were turning while you start making your way to the front courtyard of the base where Natasha and Tony are still holding off the remaining Hydra agents that just seemed to keep coming.
The second he sees you both giving them a hand, Tony takes off towards the roof. "Incoming, Robin Hood, get ready for take off."
This is your cue to get to the jet, Steve, Natasha and you making your way to the front gate while still fighting, the remaining agents scrambling away the second the explosions inside the building start.
You all get to the jet and, after making sure everyone’s inside, Steve turns to Clint. "Take us home, Barton." he merely nods and makes his way to the pilot's seat, immediately taking off.
You make a beeline to where Bucky’s lying on a gurney, still unconscious.
"How is he?" you ask Bruce without taking your eyes away from the super soldier’s face.
"He’s okay, his cuts are already starting to heal themselves, so should be his head injury. He should wake up maybe within the hour, two tops." you nod and make your way to the chair beside his bed, taking his right hand in both of yours. 
You don’t know why you do that, now that you think about it you’ve probably not even touched Bucky in general more than a handful of times.
You’re not the closest of friends, you work well together in the field and get along outside of it, you hang out in group settings such as game and movie nights, team trainings and the team-building outings Tony forces everybody to go on, but that’s about it.
The lack of one on one interactions, though, didn’t help you escape your growing crush for the long-haired super soldier. You just can’t help the warm feeling you get every time he’s even in the same room, let alone when he looks at you.
You can hide it when you’re in mission mode, always being professional, but the second it happens in a normal setting like the living room or the kitchen or the gym you turn into a flustered schoolgirl, stumbling over your words and blushing every time you have his attention.
You’ve convinced yourself he doesn’t notice, if he has he hasn’t said anything, but for your own piece of mind you pretend he just doesn’t.
Sometimes it seems like he does it on purpose, though. He’d get close enough that you can smell his cologne and basically feel his body heat.
Sometimes his hands hover on your waist while he passes by you, never actually touching you but just close enough to make you almost pass out at the feeling.
And you can swear you can see a smirk on his face, but it always disappears so fast it’s just easier to convince yourself you’re imagining it.
He would have the most innocent face while asking you if something’s wrong, and all you can answer with is a small ‘I’m fine’ before basically running away, never once seeing the smug look on his face at the flustered state only he manages to put you in.
You’re brought out of your head by Steve’s hand on your shoulder, again, as he says "he’s gonna be fine."
"It’s my fault…" you say quietly, ignoring his attempt at comforting you.
"It’s not y-" you interrupt him before he can even finish.
"Yes, it is. I distracted him." You say firmly before your voice softens. "They were so close to getting him, Steve..."
You can’t take your eyes off of Bucky, almost willing him to wake up, so you could apologize. "Do you have any idea what would’ve happened if they got to him? What they could’ve done to him…" you trail off, not wanting to voice all the possibilities out loud.
Of course you know Steve knows. He worries more than you for Bucky, his best friend, basically his brother, the only family he has left from his past life.
But Steve is having none of it.
"You wanna play the blame game? He wasn’t even supposed to be on this mission, but I couldn’t stop him. He knew what it entailed, he knew it was a base full of hydra agents, but he didn’t back down because it was the right thing to do. He wants to do good and help us take down Hydra for good, he knows the risks but it was his choice. You can’t take that on you." Logically you know he's annoyingly right, again, but looking at Bucky laying motionless you can’t help the guilt that creeps up on you. 
"Friday," you say quietly, ignoring Steve’s confused look "play the footage of Bucky before he passed out coupled with the audio from our comms."
The hologram on the table in the middle of the jet lights up and Bucky’s figure can be seen fighting, then you can hear your own voice telling your theory to the group and Bucky halts for a second, he almost gets punched but avoids it at the last second, hitting the guy with his metal arm.
Steve turns to you with a smug look, knowing he was right, but you raise your hand before he can say anything and keep watching.
You see Bucky fighting and hear yourself calling his name and you can see his eyes rolling when you call him James. He’s asked you countless times to call him Bucky, but you always refuse, not sure why.
All you know it’s that it kind of annoys him but in a different way than when Sam or Peter annoy him, you can tell he’s not actually upset, it’s kind of your own little thing with him seeing as he doesn’t allow anyone else call him by his first name.
You can see Bucky still fighting and ignoring you, but when he hears you call him “Bucky” for the first time he stops, right as an agent is throwing a punch.
You see Bucky get hit in the jaw, stumble and fall, his head hitting the wall behind him pretty hard. He doesn’t get up, but you see the last agent standing get taken out by an arrow, Clint you assume.
You can hear your alarmed conversation with Clint as more agents slowly creep up on Bucky, probably being cautious, worried he could wake up any second, then there’s the sound of bullets flying and agents getting hit.
Suddenly you’re there.
You take your eyes off the screen, about to tell Steve that even he can’t deny now that it was your fault, but the whole team's attention was on the footage of you mercilessly taking out man after man, even Clint’s there watching after putting the jet on autopilot.
The look on your face frightening to the point where you almost don’t recognize yourself.
You don’t want to relive the moment, so you shift your attention back on Bucky, your hands still holding onto his.
You can hear Clint’s “holy shit” and then your “he’ mine” and you feel yourself heat up at the possessiveness in your voice.
The video gets paused and you can hear Tony asking "what the fuck was that?" his voice clearly amused, and you know what he’s asking you.
Before you can answer though, you feel Bucky’s hand squeeze yours softly, your eyes snaps down to it and then to his face while getting up from your chair.
He’s mumbling something that sounds very similar to your name but his eyes are still closed.
"James?" he slowly opens his eyes and they instantly find yours, a smile forming on his face that you can’t but mirror.
"How do you feel, Buck?" Steve asks him from beside you.
"Like I got hit really hard in the head." he groans while he tries to sit up, his hand still holding onto yours while you help him.
"Take it easy," Bruce tells him while stopping next to him on his other side "you probably don’t have a concussion, but I’d put some ice on your head to help with the headache."
"I’ll get it." you let go of Bucky, and walk to the mini freezer to get the ice pack.
Bucky takes a moment to look around him, his eyes landing on the screen where you’re frozen mid-fight.
"Friday, unpause the video." he says, curiosity taking over.
He watches you fight, protecting him with your life and he swears he’s never been more in awe in his life. He sees you get on your knees next to him and hears your whispers, praying for him to be okay, over and over.
He sees the relief in your face when Friday tells you he’s alive and he hears you call his ass “cute” as you ask the others for help, making him smile again.
"Friday, stop the footage." you say, ice in your hands but maintaining a safe distance from Bucky, embarrassed that he saw how worried you were for him.
You stand there in silence for a second while Bucky turns to look at you, the smirk on his face definitely real. You blush, cursing your body for how it reacts to his gaze, while Steve clears his throat.
"Why don’t we give you guys a minute..." he ushers everyone to the front of the jet, almost having to wrestle Tony to take him away from what he called 'his new favorite show'.
Bucky extends his right hand for you to take and you do as you get closer, your left hand going to carefully place the ice on the back of his head.
He hisses a little at the contact and you wince, giving him an apologetic smile, but his eyes never leave yours and his hand squeezes yours, letting you know he’s okay.
"I’m sorry." That's all you can say and, whatever you were expecting him to answer, it was definitely not what he says next.
"You should be." you bite your lip to stop it from trembling, your emotions getting the best of you and your guilt only growing, but he keeps going, "You distracted me. You’ve never said my name before, and it was the sweetest sound to ever come out of your mouth. Shame on you for keeping it from me for so long, doll."
He brings you closer to him, taking your hand in his left, his right going around your waist as he rests his chin on your stomach while looking up at you, your left hand still holding the ice to the back of his head.
You giggle at the puppy look he’s giving you, trying to resist the urge of leaning down and kissing him.
"Smooth, Barnes." he laughs with you, before growing more serious.
"You looked really worried." you feel your emotions bubbling up again.
"I was…" you say, your voice small "I’m sorry you got hurt because of me" you're basically whispering, afraid that if you raise your voice any louder the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold off will start falling.
"It’s not your fault, doll." before you can protest, he keeps going "and I’m fine. We’re all fine. I just took a little nap."
You roll your eyes at his attempt at a joke but can’t hide the smile starting to form on your face while he gives you a grin of his own.
You're so lost in his eyes that you almost forget about the reason all of this happened.
You let go of his hand and he gives you a confused look with a slight pout on his lips that just makes you smile more.
"Bucky," you start, taking the little box out of your pocket, but he interrupts you with an exaggerated gasp.
"Are you asking me to marry you, doll? Because, don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered, but maybe we should go on a date first." you can't help but laugh as you gave him a little shove, careful not to hurt him more.
"I’m not asking you to marry me, you jackass." you get more serious as you look at the box in your hand.
You don’t even realize you're biting your lip until Bucky reaches up and tugs it out. You look back at him and feel weirdly nervous, not knowing how he'll react.
"I found this at the base, and I’m pretty sure it belongs to you" you laugh a little out of nerves as he lets go of you to take the box and opens it.
He lets out a real gasp this time, fishing out the tags and holding them in his flesh hand, his face unreadable.
He looks back up at you and for a second your brain goes to the worst case scenario in which there's a lot of blood and screaming, but that image is quickly forgotten as Bucky gives you the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on his face.
He places his hands behind your thighs and effortlessly moves you to straddle him, his movements so fast that you drop the ice pack out of surprise, but you don’t have time to do much as Bucky starts peppering kisses all over your face.
Your surprise turns into giggles and he slowly stops his assault, the smile never living his face, the look on his eyes that of pure adoration. "Thank you, doll… You don’t know what this means to me."
You don’t know if you’re imagining it, but you think Bucky’s starting to lean up and you think he’s about to kiss you when you hear a whistle followed by a slapping sound and an “ow”.
You both turn towards the sound to find the whole team looking at you two, Steve has a smirk on his face, Tony’s next to him, rubbing the back of his head and the rest of them are snickering.
"Seriously?!" your irritation does nothing to hide your blush, Bucky’s own embarrassment clear as he hides his face in your chest. 
"What? Capsicle said a minute, we gave you a minute!" Tony said, earning another slap on the back of his head from Steve.
"Just go away!" you say laughing and they all go back to the front of the jet but you can hear their little laughs while they whisper, making you roll your eyes before looking down at Bucky who’s already looking up at you.
"Can you do me a favor, doll?" he asks you and you nod.
"Anything."
"I’d hate to lose these. Hold on to them for me?" he says, holding up his dog tags.
"Are you sure?" you ask uncertainly as he puts them around your neck.
"I’m more than sure." he says while looking at them on your chest and then looking back into your eyes, his smile impossibly big and you’re sure yours looks the same.
He wraps his arms around your waist, bringing you closer and you wrap one arm around his neck, your other hand going to play with the tags around your neck. You’re looking down at them when Bucky speaks again.
"So," He starts, his smile becoming a teasing smirk. "you think my ass is cute, huh?"
You groan, hiding your face in the crook of his neck while he laughs at your reaction.
You can hear the others laughing too and can’t help the laugh that comes out of you, more sure now than ever that everything is gonna be okay.
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