#ik she likes wanda

[starlooove]

Guys big daddy got pregnant and gave birth to Wanda. And blonda.

[cherryblossom-heart]

Could you love me one last time? (B.B ModernAU!)

Bucky Barnes x Reader 

Masterlist

Summary: It was inevitable, everyone else around you could see it. You and Bucky Barnes were meant to fall for each other. Unfortunately you were also meant to break each others hearts. You left, he stayed and you thought that was it, until a wedding made you come back to face the past you left behind.

13.1 k words

Content warning: ANGST, toxic 'situationship' between Reader and Bucky, heartbreak, alcohol comsumption, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT Bucky and Reader sleeping with other people while they have their situationship going on.

A/N: It's been a long time since I posted. Ik I teased this a long time ago but life got in the way and I forgot about it but now I'm back with this so I hope you guys like it. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this 😊

Post dividers by @firefly-graphics

Peggy’s dress was surprisingly beautiful. The first time you had seen it in pictures, the dress up in a hanger, you had thought of it a bit ugly to your liking. The long, slight puffy sleeves, the plain A skirt, and the square neckline made for an overall boring piece of fabric, and when she had asked you over FaceTime what your thoughts were, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. But now, as she walked with a smile on her face to her soon-to-be husband, you were happy you kept your mouth shut. It wasn’t the dress or the makeup or the hairstyle that made her stunning, it was the love and care in her eyes. It was the happiness in her face whenever she looked at Steve.

Just as she reached the end of the aisle, taking her place next to you and the rest of the bridesmaids, a pair of familiar blue icy eyes caught your attention. Bucky looked good, you could admit to yourself, even after not seeing him for the past almost six years, it seemed that time had just made him even more attractive. He no longer was the youthful, long haired and clean shaved guy that had once dared you to see who could fit more grapes in your mouth, accidentally spitting one to your face as he tried not to choke with them. The traces of his fuckboyish persona were long gone too, instead replaced by a seriousness you had only seen on certain occasions. This Bucky was no longer a boy that enjoyed playing with feelings and breaking hearts; this was a man. A man that looked slightly older had light wrinkles and shorter hair that came with a slight beard. This was a Bucky changed, mature.

This Bucky wasn’t the one you had left behind when you moved away.

His eyes stayed on you during the whole ceremony, and you couldn’t help but stare back at him.  For years you had wondered what you would do if you ever saw him again, you wondered if things would be awkward, or perhaps he would act as if nothing had happened, as if both of you hadn’t ended up with a broken heart that night. A part of you thought it would still hurt as it did almost six years ago, maybe the anger would still be there and it would end up with both of you avoiding each other as much as you could. You saw a hundred scenarios running through your head all through your seven hour flight, but you never considered this one.

You never expected he would be so direct, or to look at you with such intensity. You were sure that after all this time he would have already forgotten about you, leaving your memory buried in the back of his mind as he easily replaced you with some other girl. Yet the way his eyes screamed for your attention made you think otherwise, a deep-rooted desperation washed over them, and you understood what he said.

“I’ve missed you.”

You weren’t the only one to notice it. Once the party started and the bride and groom were going around tables greeting everyone, Natasha, Wanda, and Pepper dragged you to the venue's private dressing room to drill you with every question they could think of. You were thankful Peggy was too busy with her new husband, or else the interrogatory would’ve been ten times more exhausting.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Have you guys talked?”

“Are you going to talk to him?”

“Why is he looking at you like that?”

“Do you still love him?”

And that was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Did your heart still belong to James Buchannan Barnes? Was your heart still yearning for the tumultuous yet passionate and ultimately toxic relationship that had ensued between both of you?

The answer to all of that was yes and no. You didn’t miss the person you had become at the end of your "relationship," if you could even call it that; you didn’t miss the fights, the crying, and the resentment. You didn’t miss the uncertainty that came with being with young Bucky Barnes or the hole in your chest that you felt whenever he would leave.

However, you did miss his company. Not the bullshit, flirtatious, overly confident, and emotionally distant persona he would often put out. No, that dickhead was one of the reasons you never worked out. Instead, you missed the Bucky that would buy you a coffee every morning, the one that would make you laugh until your stomach hurt, the one that would invite you over to have a movie night and buy your favorite snacks.

You missed Bucky, who used to be your friend.

Natasha, the ever-observant of your group of friends, had warned you before it started. She had seen the way you eyed each other at a party one drunken night, both your eyes burning with desire as a product of the growing sexual tension you have had ever since you met for the first time.

As it turned out, Natasha was not only beautiful but also intuitive.

“Nat, please—” you drunkenly argued. Your red cup filled with liquor spilled as you tried to walk away from the redhead, but her hand stopped you.

“Listen to me. I know you want to fuck him, but you have to promise me you won’t do it.” The seriousness behind her voice didn’t register in your intoxicated brain, though, and you kept rolling your eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You half slurred, half laughed.

“I see the way you look at him; I also see the way he looks at you. Maybe one day you guys could be a good couple, great even, but right now the only thing that could come out of you two hooking up is one of you getting hurt, if not both.” Her hands grabbed your face, and green eyes met yours. “You will break each other's hearts. You already love each other; we can all see it, but neither of you is ready to be in a relationship or to compromise yet. So please, for the love of God, do not sleep with him.”

Natasha’s words were wise, and with time, they turned out to be true. The next morning you had woken up in bed alone; the only memory of him was the smell of cheap beer, sweat, and the cologne he always wore.

That was the first time Bucky had broken your heart.

Truth be told, as much as you had blamed Bucky for the downfall of your situationship, you were as equally guilty as he had been. The loneliness, the anger, and the resentment you felt throughout the relationship were probably reciprocated because, as Nat had said, you weren’t ready to be together.

Both of you loved each other deeply, but you didn’t know how to do it. Not in a healthy way.

So you tore yourselves apart, sleeping with one another but never brave enough to define things. You acted as if you were a couple, but neither of you would admit your feelings, not even to each other. It was a cycle of stability and sex that always crashed down with one of you being scared, perhaps both of you at the same time, of giving your heart away.

“Hey”

Your heart drummed against your chest, and a warmth spread over your cheeks. You had missed his voice, the sweet baritone of his voice had always made your body react like that. And now, after years of not hearing it, you finally realized how much you had craved for it.

He carried two flutes filled with champagne and passed one to you, which you gladly took.

“Thanks.” you said with a smile.

Both of you took a sip from your drinks, unsure of how to start the so needed conversation. Fortunately, Bucky decided to take the first step.

“They seem happy, huh?”

You chuckled mentally at his opening line, but you admitted to yourself you couldn’t do better.

“Yeah.” You took a second sip of your drink. “The happiest I’ve ever seen them.”

“You must be proud.” he pointed out. You looked at him, confused at what he meant. “Of your matchmaking skills. This wouldn’t have happened without you convincing Peggy to let Steve show her around the city when she first moved here.”

Ah, of course. A sweet smile placed on your lips as you remembered Steve’s adoration showing on his face the first time he saw Peggy after coming to visit you. She, on the other hand, thought nothing more of him than just a pretty guy, but you could see that behind the tough façade she always displayed towards men that tried to flirt with her, she was interested in him, his character, and the kindness he always displayed.

So naturally, you intervened. And you got the perfect opportunity when Peggy got offered a job in New York.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You smirked at him.

“Sure,” he chuckled.

A heartbeat passed, and blue eyes connected with yours once again. The more you looked at them, the more you could feel all the things he wanted to say—a storm of words locked behind them and almost ready to spill. But above all, you could see a bit of sadness, and he found himself finding the same in yours.

His hand twitched in instinct, wanting to caress your face to comfort you, as he had done for so many years, but he caught himself before doing it. It was too late though; you caught it the moment you saw his eyes tense up.

“Do you—” his words died on his mouth, the rushed beating of his heart stopping them. He cleared his throat, trying to push out more confidence than he actually felt. “Wanna go take a walk?”

You didn’t answer immediately. You couldn’t. Every rational part of you was screaming at you, scolding you for even thinking of going with him. You couldn't do it, you couldn’t fall for the same cycle you had run away from in the first place. You weren’t the same person as you were before, you matured, and you learned from your mistakes. Going out with the man that always seem to bring your deepest, darkest, and most unwanted feelings was something you couldn't do.

You couldn't.

You shouldn’t.

You shouldn’t.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

You were convinced that whoever planned Steve and Peggy’s wedding was into sorcery, or at the very least a clairvoyant. When Peggy and Steve chose this place along with a terrace to host the ceremony, everyone had been skeptical of it, as having a wedding outside in the middle of April wasn’t a good choice. As the day of the ceremony closed in, the rainy days did too, and five days before it wouldn’t stop raining all day. Steve and Peggy had expressed their concerns to the wedding planner, but they only got a confident response that nothing would ruin their day. And the wedding planner had been right, not a single drop fell that day in the middle of April; instead, a cool, warm day had welcomed the newlyweds.

As you walked the chilly but comfortable night streets of New York, you thanked the wedding planner and their perfect timing. Even walking in silence along him brought your heart back to the many times you had done the same thing back then, back when you were just two college students without any idea what the future held for you.

“So... how you’ve been?” He asked, unsure of what else to say.

“I’ve been alright. Work has really taken over my life.”

He chuckled. “You? A workaholic?”

It wasn't that you had been irresponsible or a mess back in college, but you had always been more of an adventurer, and you had always pointed out your desire to never lose your freedom.

He had been the same.

“Look who’s talking, Mr. ‘I have my own firm’,” you teased.

Steve had told you a couple of years ago about their idea of opening his own firm, alongside Bucky and Sam. You remember your heart stopping at the mention of his name, but you didn’t tell Steve to not mention him; instead, you asked more about it. It was the first time in years you got any updates on his life, and you allowed yourself to dwell in it. That call stayed on your mind for weeks.

“Shut up,” he smirked.

That was all he needed to open up about what had happened to him. He told you about his old firm and how he hated to work there. How he wanted to have a place where working pro bono wasn’t such an impossible thing to do, he wanted to do more than just defend white collar rich people that seemed to think the law was always above them. He told you how scared he was of leaving somewhere where he had stability but was ultimately convinced by Steve to make a big move, follow what he wanted to do.

In return, you told him about how scared you had been of building a new life in a different country and how you thought your job would suffer from it, as you had thought that as a journalist with a lack of connections and knowledge of the place would put you in a thought position. You told him how you had met Peggy when you were interviewing a couple of government officers for alleged corruption practices, and out of everyone there, Peggy seemed to be the only one that had taken any concern in it. You told him about the job offer you had gotten for a company right in New York that you weren’t taken so seriously but you still wanted to see what it was.

The more you heard him speak, the more happiness grew inside you. Sometimes you wondered whether you had made the right choice or not when you left him behind, but hearing everything he had accomplished, both of you, you were confident you had done what was right for you both.

You turned to him, both of you stopping in your tracks, your hand moved before you could stop it and found it’s place in his, and he reacted on pure instinct, his fingers intertwining with yours.

Bucky’s touch had always brought you warmth on cold days. Ever since the first time you shook hands, there had been an invisible force that made you crave his touch, your hands prickling wherever he had touch. With Bucky, you had always felt safe, even when he was breaking your heart.

You searched in his eyes for any signs of uncomfortableness or rejection at your touch, your heart aching in your chest at the thought of it, but there was only surprise and vulnerability in them. The corner of his eyes lowered as his eyebrows furrowed and his thumb swept over your skin, sending sparkles all over your body.

He had missed this, more than he would ever admit.

“I’m proud of you, Jamie.” His face lit up, a happy smile spreading over his face. “I always knew you would do great things.”

Bucky’s hand leaves yours, a sudden ache installing in your chest, but it didn’t stay there long as he engulfed you in a tight hug, one of his arms surrounding your waist and the other one going behind your neck.

Your head found its place in the crook of his neck, and his hand held the back of your head. His eyes closed as he smelled your lavender shampoo.

“I’m so proud of you too, my beautiful angel,” he whispered next to your ear, making your eyes prickle with the treat of tears spilling from them. “Peggy told me how hard you’ve worked for your position. You have the job of your dreams, you deserve every promotion you’ve gotten, every award, and every adventure you’ve had. I’m proud of the life you have built for yourself.”

The hug became tighter as you both relished in each other's touch and smell, a memory of the past that still ached but also brought you the sweetest of comfort.

Even after all that had happened, the love and care, no matter how tainted it had ended up as, still remained there. Deep down, in the bittersweet memories of how good things had been and the old promises that were never kept, the feelings were still there.

After a few minutes, the embrace was cut short, both of you now slightly embarrassed for the sudden display of affection. The heat in your cheeks made you cringe inwards, and you forced yourself to look away. You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as you did. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this, you wouldn't feel so deeply for him.

As it turned out, stopping loving Bucky Barnes wasn’t as easy as you had thought.

His hand wrapped yours, taking you by surprise. A charming smile showed his white teeth, and the little wrinkles around his eyes made your heart melt. You smiled back at him, the butterflies in your stomach growing stronger and stronger; perhaps they never left.

“Remember that old bar with the arcade inside?” he asked out of nowhere.

“The one where we found after the whole John Walker thing?” He nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Let’s go grab a drink there.”

Electricity ran through your veins at his words, and you felt like you were a freshman in college again.

“Aren’t we a little too overdressed to go to a bar?” You question. Bucky’s navy blue suit that was paired with an expensive-looking pair of black shoes and your lilac flowy long dress were definitely too much for a dinky little bar.

Bucky’s eyes shone with a youthful spark you had seen so long ago as he squeezed your hand.

“Who cares?”

When you got accepted into your first college choice, you thought you might have been dreaming. The chances you got accepted were the lowest of every place that you had applied to, but by some miracle you got it. You had dreamed of what college life would be—the classes you would take, the new and interesting people you would meet, and even the parties you would attend. You had prepared yourself for a life full of work and perhaps adventure.

But not even a lifetime of daydreaming could’ve prepared you for Bucky Barnes.

Life is filled with an ocean of coincidences, but the ones that always lingered in your mind were the ones that brought you to him. If Natasha’s phone had not died the night before, she would’ve woken up in time to get to class, and she would’ve taken her preferred spot in the middle of the class. If she had woken up in time, she wouldn’t have ended up sitting in the only available seat, which coincidentally was next to you.

If Natasha had woken up earlier, you would’ve never ended up talking to her and subsequently going to go grab something to eat; she would’ve never introduced you to her roommate Wanda or her longtime friend Steve. Also, she would’ve never invited you to hang out with the rest of her friend group in the exact same bar that you would adopt for a weekly Friday reunion for the rest of college.

And perhaps you would’ve never had met Bucky Barnes, or you would’ve ended up being one of many nightstands. Or maybe life would’ve ended up bringing you to him no matter what, because after meeting him you started to believe in soulmates. Not in the typical type of soulmates that, with just one glance, you weren’t that naive, but you did believe in the type of soulmates that would understand you unlike anyone else. There had always been an emptiness in your heart that you never noticed, not until he held you for the first time after a bad day.

Bucky was your soulmate because things had never been complicated with him, not even the first time you met each other. Talking to him, opening up, and letting him see the ugliest parts of yourself was almost second nature to you. You were convinced that the only person who could see the world the same as you was him. He saw the good and the bad in you because, in the end, the same parts in you that were broken were already broken in himself.

Maybe this was why you didn’t work out.

At the time you didn’t care, the only thing you cared about was the fact that being with Bucky made you feel good. That’s why it wasn’t so hard to convince you to go with him to do things that weren’t necessarily smart, wise... or legal. Things like breaking into a party that was hosted by Bucky’s college nemesis and spray painting in his room the words “You are nothing without Daddy’s money.” Bucky had always been talented at hitting where it hurt, especially when it came to someone who had jeopardized his scholarship.

John Walker had been furious later that night when he had brought a girl upstairs only to fund the stench of the spray pain nauseatingly filling his room. The black letters still dripped from the freshness of it, and Walker had gone in what could only be described as a temper tantrum at the age of twenty, at least that’s what everyone had said next Monday when you went back to class.

That night you had decided to celebrate, roaming the streets of New York in search of a bar that would take your fake ID’s and wouldn’t think twice about it but could also drink in peace without having to fight for a beer. Unfortunately, everywhere seemed to be either packed or the bartender would intensely check everyone's ID, driving you away from there. You had already paid a good amount for them, you didn’t want to risk losing it.

Almost close to giving up and just going back to Bucky’s apartment, a neon light caught your attention. Big, bright cyan letters read “Blue Circuit,"  a lonely bar in the middle of town that not a lot of people seemed to go to. A bar that would become a place just for you and Bucky, away from everyone else, from people’s expectations, and above all, away from the real world. As long as you were there with him, nothing mattered, and no one else could break apart what this place meant.

But if things had gone the way they were supposed to, then you wouldn’t have left, and even after all these years, this place would still be yours, and his eyes wouldn’t have looked at you with such hatred when he had caught you in the bathroom with a random guy you met at a party.

“C’mon!” Bucky yelled once your character had gotten the last winning hit on his. The animation of the pixelated woman with steel fans using them to cut his character's head officially proclaimed your victory.

With a cocky smile, you took a step back, winking at him as you took a sip of your drink, and the taste of rum filled your taste buds. “I don’t know why you’re so surprised, I’ve always been better at this than you.”

His body came close to you, close enough to smell the beers he had been taking, and with a seamless swing he took your glass away from your lips and brought it to his, his body ever so slightly trapping you against a table.

“That’s because you always cheat.” He said, with a playfulness in his eyes that made your heart pound against your chest. “You do your little cheat codes that I’ve never learned.”

“You mean learning the combos and using them?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure, if that’s what you call them.”

You took back your drink, placing it on the table behind you, before grabbing his hand and guiding him through the other machines, scanning them with your eyes as you passed the few that still remained there. The classics were still there: Pacman, Space Invaders, MK, Tetris, etc; but those were still games that Bucky still struggled with. You remembered you used to tell him he had an old soul, and that’s why he always struggled to play any videogames, no matter how old they were.

“So, what do you want to get your ass beaten on now?”

His eyes swept through the room until they finally landed in a new addition to the bar, a brand new air hockey table. He didn’t even have to say a word, once his eyes had reached yours, you knew it.

With a happy smile, you rushed to the table. The way you both laughed reminded you of the way you would run hand in hand to your next class when you were late, the rushing in your veins and the tingling sensation of his touch in your skin being the only thing that mattered once you caught a glance of his face. A silly crush, you had deemed it. As if his smile wouldn’t warm up your inside, as if his presence wasn’t the only one that you could tolerate sometimes. As if he hadn’t managed to become one of the most important people in your life in just six months.

As if he wasn’t your first actual love.

College me was so naive, you thought amused with yourself. What you weren’t expecting was the speckles of bitterness that lingered in your mouth moments after it.

“You wanna make this more interesting?” Bucky broke you from your thoughts.

Right, air hockey.

“I’m listening.” A smooth tone filled every letter you said, making his skin filled with goosebumps.

He dug into his pockets, pulling out the change he had previously gotten from the bartender so you could use it and putting it in the side of the machine. One flat hockey disc fell, and he placed it on his side.

“Let’s make it a challenge.”

“What do you mean?”

James, the man whore seductress he always was, began uncuffing his sleeves off, folding them up until they reached right below his elbow. At first you would’ve thought of it as a way to get himself comfortable for the game, but the way he leaned over the table, his muscles popping discreetly against his shirt and his eyes burning you with something you were familiar with, you knew it was intentional.

“If any of us score a point, we get to ask a question to the other person , whatever it is, and we have to answer it, no bullshit allowed.”

Bucky was tempting you the same way he used to do it. He had something in mind he wanted to ask, and he was fishing for an in. He knew how to sweet-talk to you to give in, he knew how attractive he was, and he had learned what worked on you to the tea. James knew what he was doing just as much as you knew it, and that wasn’t even the worst part.

The worst part was how much you wanted to give in.

“No bullshit, huh?” You asked, downing the rest of your drink before grabbing the mallet in your hand. If James Buchanan Barnes knew something was how to bring excitement to your life. You missed that. “Alright, ready to tell me your deepest, darkest secrets?”

He chuckled at your words, an ever so attractive smirk placing in his lips as he moved medium length hair away from his face. “Overconfidence is going to be your downfall, angel.”

Ah, there it was again. Angel.

He was trying, you could give him that. He really was trying. He knew that nickname always made your heart race faster. Sure, it wasn’t the most original one, people had called you that before, but it the way he said it that made it special.

He always made you feel special.

“It’s not overconfidence, old man. It’s just a fact.”

“Hey, fuck you. I’m only a year older than you.” You gave him a blank stare, knowing fully aware that wasn’t what you meant. “Besides, people say I have an old soul.”

And with that, the game started.

He took you by surprise, the little shit. A hard swipe, and the disk went zigzagging through the table until it got past your guard. The sound of the disk falling back for you to pick it up finally reached your ears before you could even process what was going on.

“That was cheating!” You argued, picking the disc back up.

James shrugged. “What? Now that I score a point, you're going to call it cheating?” He started to shake his head. “Such a sore loser.”

Ok, alright. He wanted to play like that, you could play the same.

“Fine.” You grunted. “Ask away.”

He took his time, a couple of seconds in, and you could see the question forming in his mind. Your heart pumped against your chest so rapidly, anticipation building up at what he was going to say.

“What was the first thing you thought when you saw me again?"

“Uh,” you stammered, You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to ask, but it still took you aback. “That’s your first question?”

James shrugged. “I’m just curious.”

“Well, I thought you looked more mature.”

“You mean old?” He questioned, half offended.

"No,” you chuckled. “Mature in the sense that I can’t see that same childishness I used to see all over your face ever since I met you.” You threw back the disk in the table and shot it with your mallet, the disk zigzagging all over the table. Bucky’s reflexes were good though, he blocked it right as it was about to go through and the next round began. “A part of me expected to see the same smug, cocky smile that followed me all through college but with a couple of wrinkles, maybe even a few gray hairs.” He chuckled. “But it’s not there. Well, it’s still there, but not in the same ‘I’m Bucky Barnes, I’m a total 10 and I know it and I definitely think I’m the hottest shit around’ type of way” You paused for a second, before almost whispering. “I was glad it isn’t there anymore.”

For a moment his eyes left the table and went to see your face. You thought for a second your words might’ve offended him, but the smile plastered all over his face brought relief to you.

“I was that annoying, huh?” he chuckled.

“Just a little bit.” You shrugged.

With an abrupt movement, you stopped the black circle and looked directly at him. Blue eyes looked at you confused until he saw the coy smile on your lips, your eyes looking deeper into him and making his spine shiver.

You gave him “the eyes.”.

“I also thought I almost forgot how good you look when you wear blue.” You told him before sliding the disk right across the table.

Score.

Not only could you play the same game as him, you could play it better.

After all, it was you that made the first move that night.

“Are you sure we can go up there this late?” You questioned as the imposing building in front of you two seemed locked for the night.

Bucky’s hand squeezed yours harder while still guiding you towards it. “Trust me, I’ve spent my fare share of nights here.”

He knocked on the glass doors, as they were already blocked at this time of the night. A man dressed in a security guard outfit came close to the door, a tired smile on his face.

“I’m starting to think you don’t actually own a house, Mr. Barnes.” He joked while searching between his keys.

The security guards comment made him chuckle. “What can I say, Jeff? There’s nothing like the smell of a copy machine to put me to sleep.”

“I can tell.” Jeff let you in, closing the door quickly behind you. “And I see you brought some company this time.”

You smiled at him shyly, extending your hand to introduce you as you told him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Jeff.”

“Nice to meet you too, maybe you can convince this one to stop sleeping here every once in a while.”

“I’ll try my best.” You smiled at him.

After a few more inoffensive jabs from Jeff, you and Bucky made your way towards the elevator, the doors closing as you waved goodbye to the old, gray-haired man. You chuckled one last time at his jokes, and you laid against the wall. There was something about this building that you couldn’t shake off, the layout seeming all too familiar, scratching the back of your mind, but you weren’t able to see why.

“Have I been here before?” You told him.

He turned around with that playful smile he always had, and your heart skipped a beat. His eyes looked at you, and you could tell his mind went to the past, a memory he seemed to treasure.

“I’m surprised it took you so long to recognize it.”

“I don’t remember it, it just seems familiar.”

A small flash of disappointment crossed his blue eyes, and it made you feel a little guilty, but his little smile stayed the same.

“Maybe once we reach the top you’ll remember.” He told you, his fingers sliding between yours once the door opened.

You walked through the hallways of the office space, a lonely desk welcoming you both with a big plaque behind it that read “Rogers & Barnes” with golden letters. He had told you about his partnership with Steve, but having actually seen it made you realize how real it was.

Bucky deserved it; they both did. Everything they had worked for they had earned it with sweat, blood, and tears, and if there was anyone that had ever deserved success, it was both of them.

You kept walking, turning in some hallways and walking up some flights of stairs, passing conference rooms, what seemed to be a communal eating space, and office floors filled with computers and documents. Your journey came to an end once you reached a door, his name engraved on the dark chocolate wooden door.

Once you were inside, you left your coat on one of the three deep blue couches that occupied the center of the room.

“I’ll be right back.” He said before turning around and leaving you alone.

You took your time admiring the place. His desk, big and magnificent, looked clean and professional—not a single paper out of place. On the sides of the room there were bookshelves, some of them filled with books, others with binders of what you assumed was important documentation. However, what caught your eye was the pictures displaying on them.

There was one of Steve and him, both dressed up, and the golden sign in the entrance behind them. You assumed it was taken when they had opened the office, a big, almost juvenile expression on their faces. The next one was one of him with his old college football team, you saw similar faces popping up, Thor, Sam, Clint, Tony, Pietro, Steve, even young Peter was in it. They were all sweating, but the grins on their faces made you think this was after one of the games they had won.

You expected to see pictures from before, but you never thought you would see your own face in them. Almost all of the group pictures that showed all of you had him next to you, his arm around your shoulders or your waist, his grip pressing you against him. In all of them, you were both happy, except one of them caught your eye. It was a normal group picture on the surface, but this time his eyes weren’t on the camera taking the picture.

His eyes were on you.

“Having fun?” His words broke you out of your thoughts. You turned around, his hands holding two glasses and a bottle of scotch.

“Just looking at your collection of mementos.” You answered, leaving the picture in its rightful place.

You accepted the drink, taking a small sip of it as the bitter taste reached your tongue.

“So, you still don’t recognize it?” he questioned.

You shook your head. “Nope, I got no idea where we are.”

He guided you to the big glass wall to the side of his desk, and you saw it, overwhelmingly beautiful and majestic. The city looked bright, colored vibrating lights filling the scene while skyscrapers rose above everything, its architecture set in a messy yet harmonious display.

“What a view.” Was the only thing you were able to say, your hand reaching to touch the glass.

“Now look over there.” He pointed to your left.

Your eyes squinted, trying to search for whatever it was that he was trying to show you, but the darkness of the night didn’t help at all.

“On that tall building, under the light.”

You scanned the scenery, this time more carefully, until you finally found it. Your heart pounded against your chest, the tears almost filling your eyes instantly. That old brown wall was lit up by a single lamp, but its brightness was enough for you to read the graffiti on it.

If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.

Once sentence, and you were twenty-two again.

Tony’s party had been more fun than you had thought. When he had invited you all to the inauguration of this building, his building, you guessed it would be filled with pompous and uptight rich people. Maybe there would be boring classical music in the background and the menu would be entirely of caviar, Iberic ham, and some weird meat like kangaroo steak or something like that.

You should’ve known better than that.

Tony Stark, the only heir to the Stark fortune, was known for his rebellious ways. If he was throwing a party, it would definitely be wild; it didn’t matter what the setting was. So, in true Tony Starks style, the party ended up being a music and alcohol fest, to his father's dismay. Most of the attendees were his “party friends,"  with the exception of his parents and a few of their friends, and what was supposed to be a dull night ended up almost being a college party.

You and your friends had fun dancing, drinking, and laughing in the best clothes you owned. For you, it had been a green sequin dress you had the fortune to have found in a thrift store, as being a college student didn’t really allow you to spend hundreds of dollars on a dress. Bucky's suit had been an old deep blue one his mother had bought him for when his sister got married.

He looks amazing, you thought to yourself.

She looks breathtaking, he thought to himself.

He had spent the whole night by your side, as this had been one of your “good streaks,” as you called them. Neither of you had started a fight in a while, there hadn’t been any angry calls, tears, or ignoring each other, nor was there any jealousy, petty revenge, or hooking up with strangers. The last three were the worst; those usually happened when shit hit the fan, more often than not, and would leave you with an empty feeling after the storm had cleared.

Fortunately, this night instead had been filled with dancing, kisses, and lingering touches that would make you feel as in the highest of clouds. You loved the way his lips would kiss your neck, or how his fingers would caress your face, one of his hands in the back of your neck. You loved the kisses, how his lips tasted, the smell of his cologne, and the way his hair would fall on top of his eyes. You loved the way he smiled when he looked at you, how when he started to notice you, you were overwhelmed by everyone around and took you to explore the new but somewhat empty hallways.

You loved the way he made you laugh.

You loved the way he always knew how to say the right thing, even when everything else was bad.

You loved the way he made you feel.

You loved that you felt safe.

You loved— You loved—

You loved hi—

“Let’s go, around here.” Bucky pulled you with one hand, the other holding a bottle of champagne.

After a couple of minutes more, you finally found an empty office, all the way back into the room. An impressive big glass wall on the side of the office lets you see the whole city at night. It was beautiful.

Bucky took out his jacket, putting it on the floor so both of you could sit on top of it. After settling down, he opened the bottle, the cork flying behind you. The both of you stayed there for a while, your heads resting against his shoulder while you passed around the bottle.

“Could you imagine having an office like this?”

You chuckled. “Only if I win the lottery. Or marry a rich guy.”

“Too bad I’m broke.” He retorted, taking a sip.

His words took you aback, once again. Bucky had a tendency of saying things like that, and you weren’t sure how they made you feel. Sure, you could clearly see a future with him, but that wasn’t what you had agreed on. After that first night, you had agreed you were better as friends, but the next weekend ended with the two of you sleeping together again, and you decided that perhaps adding some benefits would be the best. Always friends, but never more.

Then why would he always say things like that?

You stood up, coming close to the crystal wall in an attempt to escape the overwhelming thoughts that plagued you once you thought about your "situationship." After a few seconds, he stood up too, placing himself to your right.

“I would like to work in a place half as nice as this.”

“Maybe you can ask Tony to give you family and friends a discount."

Your retort was met with a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, right, even then I’d have to sell one of my kidneys to be able to afford one month's rent.”

“I’d tell you to sell your liver after, but with how much you drink, it’s probably already damaged goods.”

He laughed. He always looked so beautiful when he laughed.

Why were things so simple yet so simple with him? Why was being friends with him so complicated? You wanted more, you knew that he wanted more, but for some reason neither of you would say it. None of you were brave enough to say it.

Maybe the bad things about your “situationship” would go away once you were together. Maybe if you finally decided to take the first step, whether you felt ready or not, then the things that he did that broke your heart would stop. Maybe you would also stop trying to break his in return.

“I—”

Before you could even get one full word out, he interrupted you.

“What the fuck?”

His eyes were looking at some of the buildings below, an amused expression on his face.

“What?”

“Down there, there’s a guy doing graffiti.” He pointed.

You scanned the buildings over where he pointed, thankful that your eyesight was good enough to be able to spot a person with a red hoodie painting on a big wall that he had just covered with a lot of strokes of blue, purple, and pink, all of them mixing together to form what looked like a galaxy. He had just started to paint something on top of it, so his body was blocking the progress he had made, but you could tell he was writing something.

“What do you think he’s writing?” You asked him, your eyes fixated on the stranger.

“Something that will make us question the meaning of life.” He stated in an all-too-serious tone. “Or maybe he’s just writing his name.”

You chuckled. “Maybe he’s writing something like ‘peace’ or ‘love’, something nice.”

“Or, hear me out, something about being chill or keeping it real.”

After a few minutes of brainstorming options, Bucky pointed out the stranger had finished. After a few seconds of squinting your eyes, you saw the white letters that were still dripping with the freshness of the paint, and it read:

‘If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.’

Your eyes welled up with tears.

You were sure things were meant to be with him, but you weren’t ready to say them out loud. Not when you were so scared. Not when you couldn’t even tell him how you felt. Not when you couldn’t even bring to think those three words that would linger in your brain.

Not when a small part of you hated him when things were bad.

Instead of risking it all, you grabbed the bottle from his hands, taking a sip of it and rasing your pinky finger. “Let’s make a promise.”

His finger held yours.

“About what?”

“That no matter what, we’ll always be friends.”

“I thought that was implied already.” He joked.

“Promise it.”

His grip got tighter.

“I promise. Until death do us apart.”

And with that, he pulled towards himself, his arm around your shoulder as you both looked at the city lights.

“And who knows, maybe once you graduate you’ll get a good job, save some money, and have your own firm here. Or maybe get Tony to be your sugar daddy and gift you the whole building.”

He chortled. “Only if you promise you’ll stop by once in a while to have lunch with me.” He kissed you at the top of your head before continuing. “And to help me break things up with him after he signs the deal.”

“Promise.”

As life would have it, every promise you made each other was broken.

“How?” You questioned him, still taken aback.

“When Steve and I were planning on opening our own place together, we couldn’t find a good place to rent, so Tony offered us a space here.”

“He offered you this office?”

“Well, not this one exactly. I asked him if we could get this one.”

You didn’t utter a word for a couple of minutes, the silence of the office drowning you. A thousand questions ran through your mind as you processed what he said. Only after you were sure you could speak, you let out one word.

“Why?”

Bucky's eyes changed, the creases in the corners of his eyes pulled them down, and his eyes were clouded with a sadness you weren’t sure how to describe.

“You know why.” He whispered, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it.

Heartbreak.

That’s what you saw in his eyes.

A heartbreak that you thought you had left behind so many years ago.

You took a sip of your drink, hoping the burning of the alcohol would take away the knot in your throat.

“Well, that realization came in a little too late, didn’t it?” You remarked. You sounded bitter, it wasn’t intentional, but your mouth seemed to be acting before you could stop it.

“Yeah, I guess it did.” He muttered.

Why did he have to bring this up? Why couldn’t you just keep pretending like you were catching up as if you were just old friends who hadn’t seen each other in a while? Why couldn't you just keep pretending?

You left the glass on his desk and grabbed your coat.

“It’s late; I should probably go back to my hotel. I gotta prepare for my interview.”

“Don’t leave yet, please.” He begged.

He grabbed your hand, his touch breaking your heart once again. You didn’t move away from it though, you weren’t sure you were able to hold yourself together if you broke apart. You didn’t want to break apart. He came closer to you, his hand going to your waist as the other one wiped away the stray tears that scaped your eyes.

Bucky’s eyes looked at your lips before turning his attention to your eyes. He wanted to kiss you, he craved it like a madman in a dessert that hadn’t had water in weeks. He needed to kiss you, but he was still looking for something in you that would stop him. The sound of your coat dropping on the floor and your hand on top of his was the answer he needed.

His lips tasted like scotch and longing. Your arms surrounded his neck in an attempt to bring him closer to you. You could feel his heartbeat against your skin, the desperation of his touch as his hand pushed the back of your head to him. The kiss wasn’t pretty to watch either, but you liked it this way. It was messy and hurried, but you could feel everything he felt.

The side of you you had buried half a decade ago was crawling back to the surface, it’s claws filled with love, passion, admiration, and all the good things that came with Bucky. But it also brought everything that was unfinished, all the fights, the pain, and worst of all, all the resentment that you had never spoken about.

It was all at once.

And it was too much.

“No.” You pushed him away.

You needed to get out. You needed to run away.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you before.” His voice was rushed, he knew his time with you was coming to an end. “I was an idiot, I was scared—“

“I don’t want to hear it.” You bent down to grab your things, but your belongings had come out of the pockets, your purse spilling its contents.

“— and for the past six years the only thing that’s been in my head is that I should’ve told you that day how much I loved you—”

“Stop.” You were trying to pick up everything.

“—and I know I should’ve went after you, I should’ve apologized for everything I did to you—”

“Stop it.”

“—but I was a coward. I’m still a coward because that’s the first thing I should’ve done when I saw you. But I’m here now because—”

“No.”

“— I still love you,—”

“Stop.”

“—I never stopped loving you—”

“Fucking stop!”

Your scream resounded in the office, the echo bouncing off the walls. Your words made him back away, as if you had burned him.

“Just—” your voice cracked, the tears prickling your eyes. “Just stop.”

He took a step forward, his hands hesitantly moving towards you, but you slapped them away.

“Why are you telling me this? Why now?”

For a few seconds, he remained silent as if he didn’t know either.

“Because I lied. That night you left my apartment, I lied when I said that I didn’t want the same thing as you.”

“You alright? You sounded weird over the phone.” Bucky asked as he opened the door.

Your hands were shaking with anticipation, your heart beating against your chest so quickly you thought you were about to have a heart attack.

“Yeah, I’m alright.” You answered as you made your way to the couch, your hands gripping on the side of it in an attempt to calm down.

His steps echoed behind you, the sound of a glass clinging was followed by running water.

“You want anything to drink?” he offered.

“No thanks.”

"Ok, just give me a sec, and I’ll be with you.”

You assumed he was doing the dishes by the amount of noise he was making. Bucky had always been a loud person, this being a clear example. A somewhat annoying  charm of his that right now was calming enough to make your pulse settle, at least enough to let go of the poor couch.

Instead, you just rested your hands on the side, caressing the fabric. Your whole focus on it until you felt a change in the texture. You looked at your hand, almost in between the cushions, and saw something that looked and felt like lace. As you pulled it out, you recognized it was underwear.

It wasn’t your underwear.

Don’t think about it, you said to yourself.

Someone else was here.

Don’t think about it.

Who was it?

Don’t think about it.

Was it Dolores again?

Don’t.

Think.

About.

It.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” He said behind you.

Quickly, you put the underwear back in its place, tucking it. He sat next to you, his back reclined.

The next few minutes were a blur in your mind. Sure, you had prepared a speech that you had gone over and over again until you had seen all possible scenarios and you had prepared for every possible answer he could have. What you didn’t expect was for you to black out while doing it, only remembering a few sentences.

“I know we said that we would leave things be, that we were good as just friends, but from the very beginning I’ve wanted to be with you, not just as friends. You make me happy, you make me feel safe, you make me feel alive.”

“You have become the only one in my heart, I can’t feel like this for anyone else. I don’t want to feel like this for anyone else.”

“Things haven’t been exactly light and breezy as we expected, but I know that we can be better. We can be good. It’s not too late for us.”

“I love you. I’ve loved you from the very beginning. And I think I will always love you.”

You knew things were over. What gave it away wasn’t the fact that he remained silent, letting both of you simmer in the echo of your words, it wasn’t either that his body had positioned as far away as the couch could allow it, with him almost sitting in its arm.

It was the eyes. The cloudiness in them, along with a mixture of emotions that were happening too fast for you to process. For a millisecond, there was a tenderness that made your heart melt. He wanted it too, you were sure.

That was until you saw the fear.

“I—I can’t.”

Two words and your world shattered.

“What?”

He stood up, beginning to pace back and forth. The fear that you had seen was being replaced with anger.

“We agreed to be just friends. You even said it was for the best.” He argued

“I wasn’t being honest. I was afraid.” You tried to reason with him, but he wasn’t listening. “I was afraid that you didn’t want it, or that this could ruin our friendship.”

“And this isn’t going to ruin us?”

It hurt. He must’ve seen it so he went up to you, his hands cupping your face.

“We are better off being like this.  I’ve never wanted a relationship, and neither have you, and you know it. We care about each other, and sure, we sleep together, but that’s what works out for us. What’s so wrong about being friends who sleep with each other?”

You didn’t answer for a while, your heart trembling in your chest.

“You…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your throat closing as you fought the tears that wanted to escape your eyes. “You don’t love me?”

His forehead touched yours before answering. “Of course I love you. You have become one of the most important people in my life, and I lo– I can’t explain the way you make me feel. But this is not about that, I can’t love you the way you want me to love you. What we have is good, why can’t that be enough?”

He loved you but didn’t want to love you. Why?

Because your love was never good enough. That’s why there’s someone else’s underwear stuffed between the cushions. 

You scoffed at him, pulling yourself apart. “Good? You mean is good for you because you get to fuck me and anything that walks without feeling guilty?”

Your words were venomous. You wanted to hurt him, you wanted him to feel like you. And above all, you wanted to win, you wanted him to hurt more than you.

He turned around, looking as if you had just slapped him.

“Don’t fucking start.”

“I mean, that’s all you care about, isn’t it?” You pulled out the underwear and threw it to his face, a shocking expression as he grabbed it with his hand before throwing it away.

“Where did you get that?”

“It was in the fucking couch.” You threw him one of his couch cushions. “Let me guess, Dolores?” you asked, bitterly.

His lack of answer was enough.

You laughed sarcastically. "You’re fucking pathetic, you know that? Honestly, it’s getting really sad to watch you grovel around that upper class bitch, hoping her daddy will let you get an interview in his firm. At least have some self-respect and accept the fact that no matter how many times you screw her, you’re never going to get out of the shithole you were born in.” You got close to his face, so close you could feel his breath on you.

His fists clenched until his knuckles turned white. He was angrier than you had ever seen him before, but the pain in his eyes was the thing that you noticed the most. You had hurt him where it hurt the most.

Good.

Except he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“At least I’m not the one that came here expecting something more out of this because I’m the only man that has stuck long enough in your life and didn’t just fuck you and leave. Now that’s fucking pathetic.”

Silence. He regretted the moment the words left his mouth as your eyes clouded with tears, but he couldn’t say sorry, not after what he said.

This was the end.

It was always meant to end this way.

“I never meant any of the things I said that night.” Bucky pleaded.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. We can’t change the past.”

You walked away from him, opting instead to look at the city lights outside of the window. Your own reflection welcomed you at the same time, tears ruining what once had been a nicely applied makeup. Dark speckles covered the top of your cheeks; your eyeliner was almost gone, with the puffiness starting to settle instead.

This image seemed way too familiar; the last time you saw it was almost six years ago.

Bucky walked behind you.

“I’m sorry.”

A bitter laugh came out of you unexpectedly. Things never really change, do they?

You whipped your tears away, suddenly feeling as if you had run a marathon. The weight of everything made you think you weren’t going to make it past the doors of the building.

“I’ve heard that before.”

You turned around, little droplets streaming down his face.

“I love you.” His voice trembled.

You came close to him, your hands whipping away his tears.

“And what good has that done to us?”

If you hadn’t been so drowning in the sense of despair that didn’t seem to want to leave you, you might’ve found it funny the fact that every time you were in this room you ended up with a broken heart.

Your words had seemed to leave Bucky speechless as he only stared at you while a thousand thoughts ran through his mind, his eyes coming to the realization that you were right. What good is love when the only thing that you get out of it is pain?

His forehead was warm when you placed a kiss on it, but his body was still not moving. His breath hitched for a second when you cupped his pace, his eyes finally staring at you, empty.

Familiar arms wrapped around you, his arms encasing you in an embrace that yelled misery, a misery that could almost be compared to yours. Your legs started giving in, the imaginary weight of the situation taking a toll on you like nothing before.

People say that the way to stop hating someone is forgiveness. You had healed, you had reflected, and you had learned and forgiven. You had been right before when you said you didn’t hate him anymore; no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t hate him forever.

You knew how to forgive.

But how do you stop loving someone who's hurt you as much as you have them?

“I still love you too,” your lips trembled, a bitter sensation placing on your throat. “Why do I still love you?”

You trapped your love for so long you had convinced yourself it was gone along with the hate. It was only natural, wasn’t it? You had fooled yourself, though. It was always there, burning deep in you along with all the pain it had brought with itself, and now that you allowed yourself to admit it, it came in as if it were the first day.

“I don’t know,” he whispered against your lips. The warmth of his hand against your face made you yearn for a different outcome. “But not even thousands of miles between us and a hundred years could make me forget about you. Nothing can.”

His eyes looked at yours, desperately as if the words were rushing out of his mouth, running out of time.

“Nothing.”

You kissed him.

You kissed him with hunger.

You kissed him with anger.

You kissed him violently, desperately, passionately.

You kissed him with love.

His hands reached back to your zipper with a movement so quick you didn’t know how your dress ended up on the floor. Your chest was exposed as the dress you were wearing couldn’t be worn with a bra. The desire in his eyes made you shudder; his pupils had seemed to grow, and the look on them seemed almost animalistic.

You were like a drug to him, and this was the first time in years he had seen you like this.

Who were you to deny him when he looked at you like that?

You were never a romantic when it came to sex. The slow kisses, the soft touches, and the caresses were never your thing. You craved for the roughness, the possessiveness, and the fire. You were never a romantic when it came to sex, but with Bucky, there was always a layer of care, even in the roughest of times. His eyes always looked at you with a softness that made your heart pound against your chest.

Perhaps sex was never pretty whenever you two were together, but it sure as hell felt amazing.

Somehow his clothes were on the floor along with yours, both of you using them as a way to avoid the coldness of the tile. His hands dragged along your skin, his touch burning you with passion as they made their way down to your underwear. You were thankful you had chosen a semi-sexy pair of black panties instead of the almost grandma but extremely comfortable ones you had thought of. His lips went for your neck, nibbling just a little in the right spot to make your thighs clench.

A part of Bucky was relieved that he hadn’t forgotten how to touch you. He remembered the spot on your neck, right below your ear, that made you shiver. He remembered the way you liked when he toyed with you, his fingers just barely brushing against your slit over your panties. Your nails scratched his arm, a confirmation for him that you needed more of him.

Bites and licks traveled down your body, invading your senses. Your hands pulled on his hair hard, guiding him to kiss you again as your hands pulled down the edge of his boxers. You couldn’t take him anymore; you needed him now.

You both looked like teenagers, fighting to get out of the final remnant of your clothes while looking desperate to finally be able to fuck. In any other situation, you would’ve laughed at the sight of it, but now there was nothing you could think of more than having Bucky inside you.

Perhaps deep down you were still those dumb teenagers.

His fingers played with your clit, drawing slow and dragged circles that overloaded all your nerve endings. He knew the pace you liked, the muscle memory acting by itself. In return, yours also acted the same, drawing small little circles on the top of his cock. His breath hitched once your finger dragged along the vein of his cock.

One of his hands went to your neck, pressing slightly hard.

“You missed this, didn’t you?” He whispered against your ear. You couldn’t talk, the hand on your neck making sure of that, so you nodded. “I missed this too, angel.”

His fingers made their way inside you, your wetness letting them go inside easily as he reached inside for that little spot you loved so much. You couldn’t control the moans that came out of your mouth, and you were thankful there wasn’t anyone else on this floor.

You were getting close, your thighs clenching along with your walls, but his fingers left you once you were on the edge. You opened your eyes to look at him, anger clear on them, but you just saw him placing himself between your legs, his body on top of yours.

He was bigger than you remembered, his cock sliding into you slowly, allowing you to take your time to get used to him. You were waiting for the hard thrusts as soon as he knew you were ready, but instead he cupped one on your cheeks.

He kissed you.

He kissed you, but it wasn’t like before.

It wasn’t filled only with lust, dominance, and passion.

His lips tasted sweeter, his touch seemed warmer, but most importantly, his feelings were different.

He was kissing you with so much love it was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t stopping himself from showing it anymore; he allowed himself for the first time to be honest with you, but above all with himself.

He loved you.

He loved you intentionally and wholeheartedly.

He loved you eternally.

The sunrise shine began to make its way above the darkness. A couple of glasses with whiskey and a packet of crackers lay in front as you covered yourselves with a blanket he kept for when he stayed.

His fingers were drawing lazy circles on your skin as you were playing with his hair. A few stray kisses would sometimes land in your cheek, making you giggle like a teenager.

“Angel,” He called your attention, his eyes looking nervous. Your mind raced as you waited for him to find the words he wanted to say.

Maybe he was about to say it was a mistake. Maybe he had a girlfriend he hadn’t told you about. Maybe he was trying to kick you out.

Thought after thought flooded your mind until he spoke.

“I’m sorry.”

His words took you by surprise.

“I–“

“Wait,” he interrupted you. “I need to say this before chicken out again.”

You nodded, unsure of how you felt.

“Remember the first time we met?” He asked, a warm smile placed on his lips. You nodded again, the same smile on yours. “I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I was ready to make a move on you as soon as I saw you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Well, Nat kind of warned me not to try anything. I didn’t really matter anyway; if anything, it made you seem more enticing.”

He chuckled as you rolled your eyes. Bucky was always Bucky.

“Anyways, when I first got to the bar, you were with Wanda and Nat while you were doing shots with them, and Wanda said something that made you laugh, and you ended up spitting your drink all over me as I was about to introduce myself.”

The once uncomfortable moment had lost its awkwardness and was now a funny memory to you.

“I don’t blame you for not sleeping with me after that; having tequila in my eyes would really put me out of the mood too.”

He chuckled.

“It wasn’t great, but it didn’t really put me off.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” He said as he played with your hair. “You took me to the bathroom and helped me clean my eyes on the sink, and you started to say the most outlandish shit ever.”

The cringe got in you, your body slightly retracting itself as you remembered everything you said.

“I was drunk and nervous. Besides, I thought you might sue me because Nat told me you were a law student.”

“I considered it.” He joked. “I knew I liked you from that very moment.” He whispered, almost as if he were doing it with fear. “I never met anyone that made me laugh like that; even when it felt like my eyes were melting out of their sockets, all I could do was laugh at everything you said.”

Your hand reached to his chest, trying to give him the push he needed to keep going.

“I also remember the moment I realized I loved you. Remember that fight we had at Quentin’s party?”

“Which one?”

“The one with John Walker.”

“What are you even getting angry about?” He yelled as he chased you.

You were fighting against a sea of drunk college students, and the more you fought, the more you found yourself being pushed around. You heard him behind you, calling your name, but you had no intention of hearing him. You weren’t even sure why you were so angry, but you knew that you had to get away from him.

His arm finally reached you, dragging you to the side.

“Leave me the fuck alone.”

“What the fuck is your problem?” The smell of beer hit your nostrils as soon as he spoke. It was strong—almost too strong.

You shook off his hand.

“My problem is that you supposedly left to get me a drink, and then when I go looking for you, you’re getting all cozy with Dolores, and you just forgot about me.”

He rolled his eyes.

“She stopped me to talk; what was I going to do? Ignore her?”

“Maybe. But what you don’t do is tell me you’re going to be back and disappear for forty minutes.”

“Are you mad because I didn’t come back or because I was talking to Dot?”

Dot.

What a fucking asshole.

“I don’t care who you talk to, but you don’t leave your supposedly best friend stranded like that.”

“Well, sorry for thinking that my best friend was a grown woman that could take care of herself. I didn’t know you needed me to be by your side all the time.”

He didn’t mean that. He shouldn’t have left you alone in a party this big, not when it was only the two of you out of your friend group.

“Then why the fuck you brought me here if you were just going to fuck off as soon as we got here? You’re basically the only one I know here.”

“Then go make some friends.” He should’ve stopped there. If he hadn’t been drunk, maybe he would’ve just said sorry, and you two could’ve had a good time. Unfortunately, his brain and his mouth would sometimes lose against his own stupidity. “Maybe you’ll even find someone that’ll take that stick out of your ass too.”

Your eyes watered for a second, but you were never going to let him see you cry.

“Fuck you.” You muttered before submerging yourself in the sea of people again.

You drank.

The more you drank, the angrier you got. And the angrier you got, the more you wanted to hurt him and forget.

The next time Bucky saw you, you were on top of John Walker, your mouth against his as his hands squeezed your ass.

“When I saw you with him,“ his voice faltered. “It hurt. I thought it hurt because you were with fucking John Walker and I fucking hated his guts, but it wasn’t just that. Even if you had been with a random guy I’ve never seen before, it would’ve still hurt the same.”

“Bucky…” You try to apologize, but he’s quick enough to stop you.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. It’s my fault how all of this ended. If I had been honest with myself about you, then none of this would’ve happened. I have loved you for so long I’ve almost forgotten what it’s like to not love you, and now that I have finally said it, I don’t think I want to forget, even if we are not together.”

You didn’t say a word, not sure that you would be able to talk without breaking down, but when you saw his eyes, you couldn’t stop it.

“We hurt each other so much, didn’t we?” He nodded, a sad chuckle along with it.

The irony of it. Love could conquer everything, except the pain that you had caused each other.

“I’m sorry too.” You whispered. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for wanting to hurt you.”

His arm went over your shoulders, squeezing you tightly against him.

“I’m sorry for disappearing; I know it hurt you when I left. Steve tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen, but I could see he was worried.”

“It was rough.” He hesitated to answer, not wanting to make you feel worse about it.

“I’m sorry for everything.”

His lips kissed the top of your head, both of you turning to see the sunrise.

“I forgave you a long time ago.” He whispered. “Can you forgive me?”

You smiled as you squeezed his hand. “I forgave you a long time ago too.”

You didn’t say anything for a while, deciding on just taking in the view of the city that was once your home. And just like that, sitting on the floor with Bucky at your side, you finally felt your heart truly healing.

“I missed this.” He said.

“Me too.”

“We should’ve taken a cab.” He said, watching you walk uncomfortably.

“And miss the opportunity to get this fucking deliciousness? No fucking way.” You take another big bite of your bagel, squeezing it a little too hard and making the side push out the cream cheese. “Besides, we’re almost there.”

After a couple more blocks of walking, talking, and eating, you finally reach your hotel. Once you get to the steps, you hop out of the uncomfortable heels that had been punishing your feet for the whole walk, a sigh of relief so loud it made Bucky laugh.

“Well, this is my stop.” You gesture towards the building behind you.

“Yeah.”

A certain heavyness settles on both. You don’t want to say goodbye.

“I didn’t even ask you, how long are you staying for?”

“A couple of days more. I still need to catch up with everyone else.”

“Good, good.”

He’s the one to hug you first. His arms around your waist pushed you against him, the small remnants of his cologne filling your nostrils. Your arms clung on to him, clutching him in between them.

Minutes went by, and you were the first one to let go as you kissed his cheek.

“Don’t be a stranger.” You said.

You walked up the steps towards the entrance of the hotel, your mind just now processing everything that had happened that night. You never thought you would talk to him again, let alone spend a whole night with him.

It was a good night.

It was a good goodbye.

Your hand reached out to open the door to the lobby, but Bucky called your name. You turned around, not sure what he was going to say.

“Do you think you could love me one last time?”

You smiled at him. The so-ever dramatic and romantic Bucky Barnes had never changed. He laughed along with you, knowing you found him a little ridiculous.

“I’ll see you around Jamie.” You said as you turned around.

None of you were sure what was next. Maybe it was best if you stayed friends and rebuilt the relationship you both had tainted so badly. Or maybe this was a new opportunity for something that could be the best thing of your lives, or perhaps it was the last time you saw each other. Whatever it was, you were sure of one thing. You were never going to lie about your feelings again, and neither would he.

If you like the story please interact: reblogs, likes and comments go a long way. Feedback is always appreciated! Feel free to message me about it.

[marionettedupaincheng]

anti wanda is So Silly.

she has a southern accent, crooked teeth, and she eats with her feet? fantastic give me more of her

her husband simply provides for her and protects her and is only mildly exasperates by her quirks, while she is head empty, no thoughts except food and her family and i think that’s so sexy for her.

she’s such a good mom too 😭 she’s always so proud of foop/irep. it’s so lame that we never see more of the anti family dynamic beyond the first episode when foop is born.

my hc is that foop is such a mama’s boy. like yes he calls his mom stupid but if anti cosmo acts up, ik he’s a rabid dog for his mama

(anti wanda is probably the glue that holds her fam together bc let’s be real anti cosmo and foop both drive each other crazy).

ANYWAY I LOVE ANTI WANDA. I really hope they stop overusing irep and give her some focus. she’s always been overshadowed

[imaginedanvrs]

where did you go?

part 1 l part 2 l masterlist

natasha x reader.

word count: 5.5k

warnings: alcoholism, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of torture, break up. ik you asked for a happy ending...

Your throat burned unbearably as you expelled the last few hours of poison you had consumed. The moment Natasha had left you had stumbled towards the bathroom unceremoniously and acquired several future bruises on the way. You were thankful that the redhead had cleaned the bathroom the day before as you clung to the toilet like a lifeline and threw up until your stomach ached. You barely jumped away when you felt a soft hand on your back, too drained to even consider fighting off any intruder. Fortunately, it was Wanda. 

  “Hey, sweetie,” she called softly as she crouched down next to you and rubbed your back soothingly. You whimpered in response and she tied back your hair gently. “You’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a state, huh?” She enquired as she continued to rub small circles below your shoulder blades. 

  “Yeah,” you hiccuped. “I’m sorry.”

 “It’s okay,” she assured you with a compassion you were sure you didn't deserve. 

 “Why are you here?” You asked as she passed you a glass of water. 

  “Nat called,” Wanda said honestly. She didn’t need to say any more. Even through your disorientation you could piece together what that meant. Natasha must have called the brunette after she left, knowing that it was dangerous for you to be left alone as you were.

  “I fucked up, Wanda,” you told her. You hadn’t exactly lied when you finally expressed your fears to the redhead. They were all possibilities that you found yourself wondering every time you had a drink, but you had never meant to put them on Natasha in the way you had. You didn’t really blame her for any of it, you had just gotten so intently caught up in your anxieties that your developing habit of pushing her away had peaked in the worst way, adamant on keeping her away. Natasha was the best thing in your life, but you were certain that she didn’t deserve to be with someone who was afraid of her. It really was no fault of her own. 

  “Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Wanda replied instead, not wanting to promise a reassurance that might not be kept. She didn’t know what had transpired between you and the other Avenger, but given that it had forced Natasha out of the apartment for Wanda to be by your side instead, she gathered it wasn’t something that could be fixed overnight. 

  With the aid of her magic, Wanda lifted you to your feet and supported you through the small apartment and into your bed where you collapsed in a heap and immediately passed out. The Sokovian methodically worked to adjust your body properly into the bed so you wouldn’t wake up aching more than you already would, then placed a sick bowl, painkillers and a fresh glass of water by your bedside. She couldn’t leave you as you were so she grabbed some blankets from your closet and made a bed up on the sofa with the door between you wide open. 

~

Natasha typed away furiously on her laptop as she set her focus on the task at hand and would not allow it to waver. It had been some time since she had stayed in her old room at the tower. Even in the previous weeks where you and the redhead had been on unstable grounds, she had never desired to spend the night away from you, perhaps hoping it could possibly make up for the seven that she had. She had gotten some questioning looks from Tony and enquiries from F.R.I.D.A.Y when she had returned and ignored both as she made a b-line for her room with her laptop in hand. The billionaire had surely seen how Natasha’s face was flushed from previous tears, but he knew better than to approach with the present look on the spy’s face. She had cried enough on the drive there and refused to feel sorry for herself any longer. She had amends to make. 

  Natasha had no intention of asking for help regarding tracking down your kidnappers anymore. Instead, she was set on doing it herself and putting all of her time and energy into the task until she yielded the results she needed. Once she found the people she was looking for, she would kill every last one of them, protocol be damned, in an effort to give you one less thing to worry about. Though she hoped that if you knew that threat was gone, you would be more open to letting Natasha back into your life, the redhead was prepared for the act to be one purely out of revenge if not for reconciliation. One way or another, Natasha was going to add a few more drops of red to her ledger. 

~

The headache that greeted you when you awoke was splitting. You winced and grabbed the back of your skull that felt as though it had been cracked wide open as you slept. You took the glass of water from your side and chugged half of the glass before you spotted the painkillers you didn’t recall placing there. You took them anyway and finished the glass before laying your heavy head back down with a quiet groan. Hangovers were not getting any easier. 

  Gradually, you started to recollect the night before until you could unmercifully remember every harsh word of your argument with your…with Natasha. Fuck, you cursed internally as you struggled to put aside the wholly heartbroken look in her eye at the unfair atrocities you had accused her of. Oh god, what had you done?

  “Are you gonna puke again before I make you breakfast or are you saving it for after?” Wanda asked from the doorway, faltering when she saw your crestfallen expression. She walked over to your bed silently and sat by your side as you exhaled shakily. 

  “I can’t believe I did that,” you muttered. “Did…what did she say to you?” You asked when you noticed Wanda’s hesitation to respond. 

  “Nothing much, she just asked me to check in on you,” Wanda answered honestly. 

  “Oh,” you mumbled, unsure if you wanted to admit to the things you said to Natasha. “How did she seem?” You asked instead. 

  “It was only a text and she hasn’t answered me since,” Wanda told you, her features etched with her own concern. 

  “I said some shitty things,” you admitted shamefully. 

  “You were drunk,” Wanda stated though not as an excuse. “Why?” You weren’t sure you knew how to answer that. 

  “Did you say something about breakfast?” You asked instead, avoiding Wanda’s gaze. She shifted and stood up.

  “Yeah, I’ll make something up,” she said, though you could hear in her voice that she wasn’t willing to let the subject go yet. That was understandable, you just needed some time to sort through your thoughts of the night before first so you got out of the bed and headed for the shower. 

  When you stepped out of the bathroom you were greeted by the hearty and generous smells of Wanda’s cooking that never lingered long enough for you to completely enjoy. You had been in the shower for a while, but you were surprised to see Wanda pull out a tray of breakfast muffins just as you strolled into the kitchen. You didn’t even think you had all the ingredients for it, but didn’t put it past the Sokovian to find a way around that and still have the muffins taste incredible. They also just so happened to be your friends go-to bargaining chip to get you to talk to her. 

  “I hope you won't offend me by not asking for seconds this time,” she teased as she placed the perfect hangover meal together on a plate for you before doing her own. You smiled sheepishly, knowing that your appetite hadn’t really grown since the last meal she had generously made for you. “So what’s going on with you?” She asked once you were both sat down. 

  “You don’t want to hear what I said to Nat first?” You countered but Wanda wasn’t phased. 

  “No, I want to know why I found my best friend almost passed out in her own puke,” she told you whilst refraining from giving you the look she wanted to. There was no point kicking you while you were down, but it was clear that Wanda wasn’t pleased at what she had seen. “How often does that happen?”

  “That was the first time it was that bad,” you said honestly. “I just…” you sighed. “I needed something to tune out the memories.” Wanda considered that as she looked at you, knowing that there was a hefty weight to your thoughts because she could feel how they were dragging you down. Except that the night before, Wanda could feel them crushing you, whether you felt it or not. “And I know it’s a habit I can’t have but it’s the only thing that helps me cope,” you told her.

  “But you’re not coping, y/n,” Wanda said. “And I think you know that.” You did, it was just hard to accept. 

  “That doesn’t make how I treated Nat okay,” you muttered. Wanda wasn’t quite ready to move on from what she saw as the more important topic, but she let it slide for the time being for you to say what you needed to. “I blamed her for what happened.”

  “Is that how you really feel?” 

  “No…” you paused. “I was just pissed off and scared,” you admitted upon reflection.

  “Scared of what?” You bit your cheek, not wanting to admit it sober. 

  “Everyting,” you muttered instead. Wanda nodded though she saw that there was something more specific you were holding back. 

  “I think you should come stay with me for a bit,” she said, something you weren’t expecting. 

  “I can’t burden you with that-” you started.

  “You’re not and I don’t want you to be on your own,” she insisted with an adamance you recognised you couldn’t dissuade her of. She didn’t want to outright say it, but she was also determined to stop you drinking. “Besides, how much longer does your sick pay last?” Your stomach dropped as you thought of all the emails and texts you had been ignoring from your workplace that only knew vaguely of what had happened. Your reaction was enough for the brunette. 

  “Thank you.”

~

Despite her body’s natural response, Natasha forced her breathing to deepen and steady as she examined the five men ahead of her. Usually, she didn’t have to think twice about steadying her breathing when she was faced with opponents on missions. After all of the tedious training from the red room, the spy’s body had become somewhat conditioned to calm itself at any sign of danger or potential threats, and yet when faced with the unremarkables ahead of her, Natasha struggled to subside her emotions. She wanted to kill them all. She would, but not if she rushed ahead and disposed of the first five too hastily. 

  Eventually, the three more men that Natasha had been waiting for emerged to join the five. She could name all eight of them, but she didn’t care to. The extensive research she had done when she finally discovered the identities of those that took you had only been for the purpose of Natasha discovering their weaknesses. She had no interest in talking to them and making them see their wrongdoing. She wasn’t going to capture them and hand them over to S.H.I.E.L.D and let the government hand them their punishment. She wasn’t going to tell them how exactly they had fucked up badly enough to sign their death warrants. She was going to make them suffer. 

  Just as one of the men lit up his lighter and held it up to the cigarette between his lips, Natasha threw the sleek gas cylinder out from around the corner and pressed her back to the wall despite wanting to watch. The cylinder only made a noise when it hit the ground at the group’s feet, by which point it was too late for them to avoid because the gas expelled from the small device and immediately reacted to the small flame. The explosion was grand, but it wasn’t enough to kill all eight of the men. That worked just fine.

  Natasha emerged as the remaining targets struggled to get their bearings and understand what had just hit them. Some of them would never know because two Natasha shot dead the moment she approached. Another received a knife to the neck that the redhead kept lodged in a second longer than necessary. For the rest, Natasha brought out her batons. She struck the remaining three over and over, caught in a blaze of anger that she couldn't get a handle on. She was striking them down on autopilot, barely able to see through the screen of red that told her to keep hitting. Hundreds of bolts shot through their bodies at any one time but it wasn’t enough. Nothing would be for what they had done. They had destroyed the woman she loved and no amount of pain Natasha could inflict would rival what either of you felt. She could still try. 

  Natasha’s hands were still stained red when she returned to the tower. She cursed when she noticed, only then coming down from her adrenaline and rage enough to be able to see clearly. The spy grabbed her wipes that she kept in her glove compartment and methodically started to swipe at each of her digits, concealing what she had done as best she could because nothing about it had been allowed. Natasha had used her own weapons that she kept secret from all of her coworkers and friends, she had driven in the dead of night, no one knew she had found your captors. She had done everything she could to cover her tracks, but her head remained foggy and it put her at risk of slipping up. Even though she wouldn’t have been arrested for killing your captors, she would be in deep shit with Fury. She wasn’t even entirely sure if she should tell you. 

  “Couldn’t sleep?” A voice asked as Natasha stepped out of her car. She recognised the voice immediately and turned around at a casual pace to see Maria sauntering towards her with her own keys in hand. Though she didn’t live there, it wasn’t unusual for the agent to spend the occasional night at the compound if it wasn’t deemed safe for her to return to her own home after a mission.

  “No,” Natasha said simply. 

  “Me neither,” Maria told the redhead, apparently oblivious to the real reason Natasha was in the tower’s garage. “Want some company?” She asked as she leant against the hood of Natasha’s car with a glint in her eye that the Russian recognised from before she had started dating you. 

  “I was just about to go up,” Natasha dismissed, not clearly enough. 

  “So was I,” she continued with an easy grin Natasha couldn’t reciprocate. She had no interest in hooking up with Maria, even if she wasn’t in a relationship at that moment. It would still feel like a betrayal towards you and the love she couldn’t seem to let go. 

  “Maria,” Natasha said slowly, feeling herself grow tired from her excursion. The agent nodded after a moment, knowing that she wasn’t going to get anywhere with the redhead. 

  “Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll see you around, Romanoff,” she said as she ventured back to her car while Natasha continued on, not sparing a glance back so that she could instead pull out her phone. She looked briefly at her unanswered texts to you, unsurprised to find them still ignored, then went to Wanda’s contact. She knew that there was little chance she would get a response from the Sokovian at two am, but she tried her luck anyway. 

  Nat: does y/n need anything bringing over? I thought I’d come and see her tmrw, she typed and stared at the screen for a few moments before turning it off. 

  Wanda chewed her lip as she read the message, trying to put together something in her sleep hazy mind that wouldn’t hurt the redhead. Wanda: no need : ) let’s raincheck that for now, she sent off. 

  Nat: she doesn’t want to see me? Natasha replied instantly.

  Wanda: it’s only been a couple weeks

  Nat: how is she?

  Wanda: better, Wanda typed honestly. 

  Nat: keep me updated, she replied, knowing that was all she could do. 

  Wanda: get some rest : ) Natasha didn’t respond as she smiled weakly at her phone before laying down on her unhomely bed. She missed sleeping next to you. She doubted that you missed it though. 

~

You really had improved since you started staying with Wanda, even if it didn’t feel like it to you. You had stopped drinking, but the nightmares were back. You didn’t like being on your own, but you also struggled to stay in anyone’s company for too long, Wanda included. You had been out a handful of times with the Sokovian to the grocery store around the corner, keeping close to her side the entire time and needed some days to recover before trying again. You were beyond frustrated with the mental barriers that dented your progress and Wanda’s reassurance didn’t help when your self loathing was as high as it was. You just wanted life to go back to the way it was, that included Natasha’s part in it. 

  That was the cause of most of your distress: wanting to be back in the Russian’s arms and yet unable to imagine what would transpire once you were. You knew that she would never hurt you, but you couldn’t unsee what your mind had conjured up when you had been taken. You couldn’t have mistaken how her usual comforting smile had been twisted in something sinister as she rained down her torments on your helpless body. You couldn’t forget. 

  Wanda had encouraged you numerous times to open up about that week to her. She wanted to offer you some understanding and empathy about the moments you were plagued by so relentlessly in hopes of driving them away, but you could never face recalling them to your friend. You were aware that it could help, you just weren’t sure if it was worth it. 

  The weeks you had spent with Wanda had also come with some expected lows where your progress had wavered. You had stopped drinking but there had been numerous occasions where you had come close to breaking your promise to the brunette only for her to stop you at the last moment. You never lashed out at her for it, only feeling terribly ashamed to be caught and yet it still wasn’t enough to rid you of those cravings entirely. Although Wanda couldn’t be around all the time to watch you, you were fortunate enough that she was there when they hit you at your worst. That usually came when the nightmares did. 

  You grasped at your throat as you woke with a start, immediately kicking away from the body that loomed next to you. Your mind was racing too rapidly to process the gentle reassurance coming from the figure, nor did you stare too long to make out Wanda’s face in the dark until you were on the other side of the bed. You held a hand out to create some kind of barrier between you and the intruder until the comforting red expelled from her fingertips to illuminate her concerned features. Your breathing steadied marginally but your heart continued to pound. Your dreams had seeped through and it still felt like there was a constriction around your neck. You scratched at it as if to break free from the invisible force only for Wanda to settle on the bed and carefully remove your hands. 

  “None of that,” she instructed with hesitance. 

  “But there’s…” you panted, scanning the room.

  “No one’s here,” Wanda reassured. You wanted to believe the logic of what she said, but you had seen the other woman as clearly as the day you broke her heart. 

  “I thought she was,” you whispered, as though the spy was watching from the shadows. 

  “Who?” Wanda frowned.

  “Natasha,” you answered, eyes set on the window across from you. This seemed to make the brunette take you seriously because her eyes flickered over to the window as well. “It was just a dream,” you dismissed after a moment. 

  “What happened?” Wanda enquired as she tore her attention away from the window and onto you. 

  “I was there,” you breathed out. The Sokovian stilled. This was the part where you always shut off. “And so was she,” you added. 

  “Natasha?” Wanda asked with a slight furrow between her brows. You nodded, not looking at your friend. “Do you see her there a lot?” You scoffed but just as quickly a tear sprung to your eyes.

  “She’s always there. She was there,” you muttered as you squeezed your eyes shut. “I know she wasn’t really. She would never…it wasn’t real but she…I saw monsters, Wanda. And Nat was one of them,” you admitted as you finally turned to your noticeably shocked roommate. She wasn’t sure how to respond but fortunately you didn’t seem to know how to stop as you continued to ramble on. 

  “They gave me some kind of gas that must have made me hallucinate because everytime they came all I could see was her. Sometimes there were others with her like those stupid fucking clowns from those horror movies Tony used to get us all to watch.” Wanda could recall those late night horror showings. You were great with them until Tony decided to put the clown ones on, then you hid behind Natasha the entire evening and apparently had a nightmare or two after. Wanda knew it must be easy to dismiss a fear like that until it felt as though you were physically at its mercy. 

  “And I know it wasn’t really her. I know it. But I can’t look at her without remembering what I’ve seen her do to me,” you told the Sokovian as your lower lip trembled and you couldn’t speak any longer. 

  “Oh honey,” was all Wanda could offer you as she pulled you into her chest and tried to piece together what that kind of experience would have done to her. She couldn’t imagine how she would see Pietro if she had thought he had committed such sadistic acts towards her. How would she ever move on from that? As you clung to Wanda’s frame, the young hero finally realised the extent of your pain and how little she could offer you in comfort when the only person you truly wanted it from had their image fractured. It was clear you both still cared for each other, but was that enough? 

  “I still love her,” you muttered. 

  “I know you do,” Wanda responded. 

  “Do you think she still loves me?” You asked. 

  “She does,” the Sokovian said honestly. “She misses you.”

  “I want to see her,” you said with a certain determination to your words. “Tomorrow,” you added, deciding that you couldn’t spend any longer putting it off.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Wanda inquired. 

  “Maybe just part of the way?” You shrugged, already knowing where you wanted to meet Natasha. 

  “Okay, you better get some rest then,” she encouraged and you nodded. “I’m glad you told me all of that,” she said. 

  “Me too,” you smiled, watching as she left the room for you to take out your hardly used phone to text Natasha. She hadn’t messaged you much since she left, trying to give you the space you requested. It took you several minutes to put together a text to her.

  Me: hey, are you free to meet up tmrw? I was thinking of our coffee shop : ). Natasha replied in less than a minute.

  Nat: Yeah that sounds great, usual time? She asked as if nothing had changed. You appreciated that. 

  Me: yep : )

  Nat: perfect, see you then : )

  Neither of you slept much that night, both in equal shock that you had actually given Natasha an invitation to meet. Natasha was thrilled you wanted to meet and she took the location you chose to be a good sign. It was where you had your first date, an attempt at something any normal civilian couple would do despite you being anything but. You visited it often as the years went by and it comforted the spy to know that you still saw it as something you shared. 

  She told herself that over and over as she sat in your usual spot towards the back of the cafe as she waited for you. It wasn’t that she thought you wouldn’t show up because you had never been one to bail on her, but the redhead couldn’t help but wonder how you would deal with being in the city with her. However, when you stepped through the door, she almost forgot everything she was anxious about. 

  You smiled at Natasha from across the room, feeling everything else around you blur to the background as it always did when she was around. That was helpful then more than ever, knowing that she still provided some consolation to you when the world was too loud. You exhaled shakily and drifted towards her as she stood up. 

  “Hey,” she smiled, refraining from reaching out to hug you and instead pulled your chair out. “I’ll get your drink,” she told you at once. 

  “Thank you,” you said to her as she ventured over to the counter. You glanced out the window to the morning streets that you had successfully navigated with Wanda’s help, relieved that you had been able to make it to the cafe without any issues. It was good. You were doing good. 

  You thanked Natasha again as she placed your usual order down in front of you, not surprised in the slightest that she remembered and paid for it. “How are you?” You asked, beating her to it. 

  “Better, and you?” She said after a beat. 

  “Better,” you smiled as you took Natasha in. She was wearing loose jeans and a hoodie with her hair down as though it really was just another trip to the coffee shop. Even though you could pick up the indicators that she was tired, she still carried herself with that effortless beauty that had you stumbling over your own feet the day you first met.  

  “I’m glad you texted,” Natasha told you as she tried to catch your eye. You met them. 

  “I wanted to see you,” you told her honestly. “I didn’t like how we left things last time even though that was my fault,” you paused to consider how to say what you wanted. 

  “It wasn’t,” she jumped in as she looked down at your hands, refraining from leaning over to hold them. 

  “Nat, I made the decision to drink, that’s on me,” you told her firmly, not wanting her to keep making excuses for the actions that hurt her. She wouldn’t do that for anyone else. “The things I said,” you paused and Natasha shifted, “they weren’t fair.”

  “At least it was honest,” she said.

  “Not entirely. None of what happened was your fault, Tasha.” She brightened at the nickname. “You’ve never done anything except try to look out for me. With your line of work you know that even the gods can’t always save everyone,” you attempted to quip, finding yourself more at ease with the redhead than you had been in a while. 

  “I put you in danger when I asked you out,” she said but you wouldn’t let her fall down that rabbit hole. 

  “I knew the risk. I would take it again,” you replied simply. Natasha looked at you with hesitation. 

  “That’s not how you felt when you were drunk,” the redhead pointed out. She didn’t want you to start saying things for the sole purpose of making her feel better. 

  “It is, I was just trying to push you away,” you admitted shamefully. Natasha’s brows furrowed briefly as she tried to detect any lies from you. 

  “Why?” You sighed, peering down at your empty cup. 

  “Do you want to get some air?” There was a park just short of the coffee shop that would give you the chance to be more open with Natasha without having to worry about anyone overhearing you. What you had to say certainly wasn’t something you wanted anyone listening in on. 

  “Sure,” Natasha agreed, getting up as you did and walking several paces in front to open the door for you. You walked side by side in silence until you reached the park, Natasha in anticipation of what you had to say while you overworked your brain to piece something coherent together while being overly aware of your surroundings. Going out was getting easier, but it still had its moments of stress.

  “You’ve been really good with me these past few months,” you told Natasha once you made it past the gates. “I couldn’t have asked anything else of you.” The redhead didn’t respond nor did she appear convinced. “But it was hard being around you.” It was a painful truth, but one she needed to know. “Because the last time I was, I was in there.” Natasha peered at you as you walked but didn’t dare interrupt. 

  “They kept me in this room that um…” you bit your cheek and dug your nails into your palms in an effort to give yourself something more uncomfortable to deal with to distract you. “There was this gas that came through the vents sometimes, before they came. It did something to my head. It made me see things.” Your heart started to pump faster as the images from your nightmares flashed before you. You had to keep going. 

  “I saw those creepy fucking clowns holding knives to me. I saw thousands of spiders crawl across the walls and over me. I saw each of the six walls contract. I saw diseased feral dogs. I saw you.” Natasha peered at you but you didn’t dare meet her eyes with what you were imagining. 

  “I know it wasn’t real. You weren’t there. You never said or did the things I felt but fuck it was all so vivid and I was scared and you just wouldn’t stop- but I know it wasn’t you but…” when you finally looked at Natasha, your saw tears brewing in her eyes as quickly as they were in yours. “They stole you from me,” you whispered, voice cracking without the realisation that Natasha felt exactly the same way. They had stolen you too. She stopped when she suddenly felt light headed. 

  “They’re gone, y/n. I fixed it.” She didn’t have to clarify, you knew exactly what she meant. You had known the spy long enough to know the difference between prison and grave. “But I think a part of us was buried with them,” she admitted as tears streamed down her pale face. You reached forwards and took ahold of both of her hands. 

  “That’s not fair,” you defied as you felt the small pressure below your eyes that always came before you began to cry. “I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.” A smile cracked through Natasha’s features. 

  “We never were very good at them,” she said, causing a pained laugh to fall between you as you both shared the memory of how you left your first few dates with an awkward wave goodbye as you had both considered kissing the other until the moment had passed. So much hesitancy for something you both wanted at the fear of messing up. You had missed your turn of the roll of the dice then and had been fortunate enough to jump in at your next turn but you weren’t sure you were going to get another go in this game. 

  “Do you want me to call Wanda to come and pick you up?” She asked dutifully. This was so not fucking fair. 

  “No,” you defied again. “They don’t get to win. Not when I still love you,” you objected, unwilling to let go. “Will you…will you give me another chance?” You could see the hesitation in the way Natasha was looking at you and you feared that she had already grieved the part of you she had lost. 

  “Only if you let me help you,” she decided. You knew that agreeing to that was easier said than done and that there was a chance you could screw things up if you failed on your end of the deal. But that wouldn’t be fair and you were done disregarding the best part of your life based on a fear that had just had its foundations destroyed. 

  “Okay,” you whispered, a smile breaking through as you gazed at the redhead. 

  “Can I hug you?” She asked tentatively. You didn’t give her an answer, instead pulling her impossibly close and clinging onto the woman you loved and swore never to push away again. You would start over, make it better, make it right. You would heal, together, and regrow that part of you that had been lost into something far stronger.

[romanestuffsposts]

Hi! I hope this is okay, it’s my first time asking you and I don’t wanna burden you. You don’t have to write it but it’ll be super awesome if you do. So could you maybe write where little!reader has a healing power but it would drain her energy depending on how big is the injury. So one time daddy!bucky goes out on his mission but he’s so careless and he got nasty injury it’s so bad, he can’t move without feeling like he would pass out (maybe a big deep cut or smthg) and he did get them stitched or fixed. But cause he’s the best daddy ever he still takes care of the reader and reader is so worried cause he looks pale due to his injury and it looks like he’s in pain and maybe he sits down after awhile and sleep on the couch. Then reader comes to him and saw blood seeping out of his clothes and so reader panicked bcs she thought he’s dying so she can’t help but heal him (despite him telling her to never do it since it drains her). And then Bucky wakes up seeing reader passing out and sees that his injury is gone and he freaks out.

You can decide the ending. Ik it’s a lot but I hope you don’t mind writing this. You’re one of my fav writer and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Hi there love! 💜

Of course it’s totally okay and I actually really love the idea thank you so much for asking me to write this! It’s really good !! 😍

And you’re not a burden at all babe, I absolutely love your demand and I’m more than happy to write it 🫶

I really hope you liked how I turn your beautiful request 💋

Enjoy <33

*****

Warnings : bad words, mention of I jury and blood, anxiety, traumatic,

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : your daddies want to protect you but what if you want to protect them ?

*****

‘’Okay tell me how bad it is, rogers’’ stark asks through the phone.

It was a late Friday night, it’s been almost two weeks that Tony and Pepper take care of you while your Daddies are on a mission with Dr Strange, Wanda and Natasha.

You’re used to be with them or others of your daddies’s friends whenever they have to leave to save the world so you could sleep in a safe place like they like to say, but this time it start to get really long.

You love Pepper and Tony, in fact you love all of them but you have a little weakness for the big red guy. Tony loves to give you cookies or ice cream through the day so of course he’s your favorite

‘’Yes I’ll get the basement ready for when you land. Get here as quickly as possible and I’ll do my best so we can take care of him right away’’ Tony nods at himself, already preparing everything they’ll need in the next few hours

‘’ alright be careful with him, see you soon’’ he ends up the call and turns around. He gasps and let out a little jump when he sees you standing behind him in the middle of the room

‘’For the love of god’’ he breathes out with a hand on his chest ‘’stop doing that to me, trouble’’ he points his index at you

You giggle at his reaction and watch him walking toward you ‘’it was papa ?’’

‘’Yes it was’’ he smiles at you ‘’they’ll be back today’’ he winks

Your eyes brighten ‘’oh yeahhhhh’’ you yell happily

He watches with a sad smile as you jump away, smiling and singing to get ready for greeting your Daddies, all happy about the good news.

He just hopes everything will be okay and it scares him that he doesn’t know what will happen.

‘’Hey’’ he calls making you turn around. ‘’They’ll have to go in the basement as soon as they get here to give them their vaccines and a check up so you’ll see them after that’’ he lies

You nod ‘’okay’’ and leave

~

‘’Careful’’

‘’Careful’’

‘’Careful’’

‘’I Said careful!!’’ Steve yells ‘’you’re being too harsh with him! Don’t you see that he’s in pain!?’’

‘’Rogers, you go wait outside the room’’ Tony says

‘’The fuck I am’’ he snaps back ‘’if you want me to leave you’ll have to do it yourself because I won’t move from this spot’’

Tony sighs and nods, he can make him leave but it won’t help anyone ‘’as long as you don’t stay on your paths you can stay either way you’re out’’

Steve looks back at Bucky, pain in his eyes as he watches the love of his life laying on the bed, covered in blood

He watches everyone doing their jobs, everything is in slow motion, he feels his breath blocking in the middle of his throat as he stays there, powerless.

Bucky groans in pain making Steve tears up. He hates seeing the people he loves hurting, he does that job to protect the world but to mainly protect his family.

It happens that he or Bucky get hurt on a mission, it happens that you are hurt after falling in the garden or catching a cold after playing outside while it was raining.

All of that happens because it’s a part of life, you can’t be protect for everything, you have to learn and you have to go through experiences that make you grow.

But this, what is happening to Bucky is not a little experience, it’s not a part of life where you can close your eyes and get over it. This will have consequences and he knows that.

The thing he doesn’t know is how he’ll tell you the news…

~

‘’Hi princess’’ Steve smiles as he knocks on your bedroom door.

Like the good girl you are you patiently waited in your room knowing your daddies were home and waited until someone comes and get you.

You turn your head and let out the biggest smile you could. You stand up and your little feet run to carry you right into your Papa’s arms.

He wraps his arms around you and lifts you up ‘’oh I missed you so much my sweet angel’’

‘’I missed you too’’ you kiss his cheek. You frown and pull away after feeling something weird on his cheek. You see a tear falling from his eye and look into his eyes ‘’why you cry ?’’

He kisses your forehead and goes sit on your bed

‘’I changes m’ bed’’ you proudly say, forgetting a little about everything.

He smiles through his tears and takes your hand ‘’that’s wonderful baby’’

He sniffs a little and get back your attention ‘’listen I have to tell you something’’

You look up at him with your bright and beautiful eyes

‘’Daddy had an injury during the mission’’ he starts, your eyes fall more and more as he speaks

‘’He’s downstairs with a lots of doctors who are here to help him getting better but it’ll be hard and it’ll be a long process. We will have to be understanding with him and he’ll need us’’ he caresses your hair ‘’we’ll have to be careful around him’’

A few years left your eyes as you keep staring into your Papa’s

He gently wipes them away and kisses your nose ‘’he’ll be okay sweetie, he has all the help he need and after that he’ll need us’’

You sniff and nod ‘’daddy needs me ?’’ You quietly ask

He nods ‘’yes, daddy needs you’’ he stands up and rests you on his hip ‘’we should be able to see him now’’

After they took care of him, they set him on a calm and quiet room while he was still passed out

That’s where your papa takes you. He opens the door after asking you to be quiet and good and let you in. You slowly walk toward the chair beside the bed and sit down.

You watch all the big machines that make weird noises, it’s big, everything is big in this room.

Your Papa lifts you up and sit you on his slap after sitting himself down on the seat ‘’look how peaceful he looks while he’s sleeping’’ he whispers in your ear ‘’just like you at night’’

~

It’s been a few days now that your Daddy is up on his feet. Like your Papa said he needed help, lots of helps but you’re more than okay to be a part of his healing.

He tried many times to play with you but it just last a few minutes, he gets tired quickly.

You remembered a few days ago that you actually could help your Daddy. You forgot about that because of the anxiety to see your Daddy hurting and your minds were everywhere but on your ability to heal others.

You talked about it to your Papa but he of course said no immediately, just like your Daddy.

It takes a lot of you to use that power and heal people so the less you use it the better you are.

Your papa told you he couldn’t let you do that because he needs you to take care of your Daddy, and if you use your power he’ll have to take care of the both of you.

‘’Okay baby, i need to lay down a little bit I’m really tired’’ Bucky breathes out after playing with your dolls. He made an effort and played longer than usually but he can’t take it anymore

You help him laying down on the couch and keep playing silently while taking glances at him from time to time.

Today he’s more pale than before, you start to feel that he’s not getting better and the idea of him having an infection or anything bad is terrifying you.

If daddy is healed then he doesn’t need me so I can use my power you tell yourself

So your choice is done.

You stand up and kneel beside the couch. Your put your hands above his wounds without touching it and close your eyes, letting all your magic go.

~

‘’Sweetie I’ll need your help for dinner’’ your Papa says as he walks down the stairs. He makes his way in the living room but stop in his tracks when he sees you on the floor beside the couch

‘’Oh my god’’

He rushes toward you and feel that your body is really cold. As he keeps touching you he glances at your Daddy on the couch and look at his wound.

He shakes Bucky awake knowing that now it’s like he was never hurt at all ‘’Buck I need your help’’

Don’t get him wrong, he’s more than happy that Bucky is finally okay but not like that and now is not the time.

Bucky groans ans opens an eye ‘’Steve I’m tired I need to sleep’’

‘’she healed you you don’t need to sleep now you need to help me’’ he says anxious ‘’now!’’

It take two secondes at Bucky to realise what happened and he immediately stand up ‘’get her to bed while I take the towels’’

They know what to do, whenever it happens you need the same things. You need to be laying on a bed with hot towels all over you to raise your body temperature. You need sugar ready for when you open an eyes and water, lots of water.

And that’s exactly what your Daddies are preparing.

They’re resting on your sides the whole time, they talked to you and have the phone on their hands incase something gets wrong.

‘’You’re strong baby, the strongest person I’ve ever met but you can be the stupidest one I’ve ever seen in my life’’ your Daddy jokes before sniffing

Steve smiles upside down as he strokes your cheek ‘’she sure is’

You groan and frown ‘’not true’’

They both let out a breath of relief, your daddy kisses your hand while your papa takes the water ‘’here baby’’

He helps you drinking and then come sit beside you ‘’why did you do that beautiful ?’’ Your Daddy asks, sitting on the other side

‘’Because I wanted to help you’’ you quietly say

‘’no baby, it’s really nice of you for that but you are our priority, it hurts you to heal people and even more if the injury is big. All I need is you to be healthy and okay’’ your Daddy kisses your forehead

‘’Do you understand that ?’´

You nod ‘yes daddy’’

‘’Good’’, ‘’beside that, thank you for doing that for me, my love’’

You smile and snuggle closer to them

‘’You’re tired baby ?’’ Your papa asks, putting the cover more above you.

You nod and close your eyes from the tiredness

‘’It’s okay, it’s been a rough week. Sleep baby we’re not getting anywhere’’ Steve says as he kisses your nose

You feel them shifting beside you to lie down and let your exhaustion take over you

[wndaswife]

it’s actually really fucked up if you think about it that wanda had to kill her boyfriend with her own hands for the sake of the mission and not one bitch went to go see how she was afterwards like what the hell 💀 like ik everyone brings this up but literally think ab that like she put aside all her anger and hatred and learned to join the avengers and these bitches did not give a fuck ab her.. in fact when they were saved from being attacked at the start of infinity war the first thing they did to her and vision was scold them for not laying low as if they weren’t attacked in an empty ass street in the evening 😭😭😭😭

[dontsh0vethesun]

misunderstandings

part five of home for christmas

natasha romanoff x reader

The hallmark movie inspired Christmas story that nobody asked for.

Natasha Romanoff fell out of love with Christmas, but perhaps a certain someone could help her find the festive magic once again.

Coming home to her small hometown from her life in New York City, the children’s author is reunited with the people of her past; some are happier to see her than others.

But, will rekindled relationships inspire the Christmas story she’s struggling to write? Or will she go home empty handed?

these gays are dumb, glimpses of the past, idiots in love, they’re actually just so stupid, christmas, probably too much dialogue

a/n- ik it’s not christmas anymore but there’s only one more part!! also my christmas was dookie so i’m letting myself take ages on this <3

part one | part two | part three | part four | part six

wc: 3.6k

“I heard there’s an update on the Natasha situation,” Sam smiled, his grin was mischievous and you almost wish you weren’t so attuned to his compulsion to stick his nose into business that’s not his.

“Where’d you hear that?” you answered, directing a pointed look in Wanda’s direction whilst she worked on a coffee order.

“Don’t look at me,” she defended, raising her hands in surrender.

“I’m an intuitive guy,” Sam smirked in return. “I don’t need anyone to tell me, the weird look all over your face is all I need.”

“You need to be this invested in your own life,” you groaned. “Where’s James these days, huh?”

“I’m not falling for that trap,” Sam laughed. “What happened? What’re your feelings? Please tell me,” the man practically begged.

“Fine,” you conceded with a sigh, leaning against the counter whilst there was no line of customers needing your attention. “We bumped into her at the fair last night, that’s all.”

Your dismissive shrug on the topic was not enough to appease him, however, and the faux scowl he addressed you with was enough to let you know that he was aware of your downplaying of the situation.

“Alright, fine,” you groaned with a roll of your eyes. “We talked a little and I’m still confused,” you surmised.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Did she apologise? Are there…butterflies? Give me something,” Sam pleaded. “I need to know whether to give her cookies laced with laxatives or not.”

You laughed at his seriousness - it may have happened a couple of times during high school but you all took an oath of secrecy.

“She didn’t apologise,” you frowned, trying to keep your face as neutral as possible lest you allow your apprehension on the topic to swallow you whole. “She seems different though. I want her, so badly, to be different. But maybe I’m stupid to hope for something - maybe we really just aren’t a good match.”

Sam’s eyes were soft and comforting, his lips parted to speak before another voice piped up opposite you. Kamala had arrived for her daily hot chocolate - extra whipped cream and marshmallows, of course. She takes the promise of free drinks for friends very liberally.

“As someone who’s been trying their hardest to be neutral,” she started. “You did look cute together last night - and the way she looks at you - God, it’s like a real-life rom-com. Kind of gross, actually,” she rambled on. “By the way, I wasn’t eavesdropping.”

“You weren’t?” You smirked, eyebrow twitching in question.

“No,” Kamala quickly replied with a shake of her head. “It was just, uh, intuition.”

“Wow, you might have a superpower there, Mala,” you scoffed laughingly.

“Really though, it definitely seemed like there was something there - on both sides.”

“I dunno,” you sighed with an exasperated shake of your head, cheeks flooding with heat at the three pairs of eyes witnessing your bashful feelings towards a certain redhead. Whether you hide it or not, all of your closest friends have developed a certain sense of reading between the lines painfully well. After all of these years, you suppose it’s merely a trait of a strongly entwined bond. It doesn’t make it any less annoying, though.

“At the risk of forcing you into a ‘mushy and embarrassing’ state, as you call it,” Wanda voiced from beside you. “What are you feeling about her now? You were pretty good at avoiding my questions last night,” she smiled with a poke of her finger into your side.

It was a tricky feat for you to let yourself be raw and vulnerable, it never is a comfortable thing. But, with a problem you were struggling to make sense of on your own paired with the sickeningly sweet and supportive smiles directed your way, it was harder to keep it all in than let it out.

“It - it kinda feels like before. Like, no time has passed, y’know?”

“In a good way?” Kamala asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “I dunno, it’s like, somehow, all of those things I felt towards her all those years ago had never actually left. Like they were just sitting there in my stomach waiting for the right time to come back out.”

“It kinda sounds like you know what you wanna do then,” Sam smiled.

“I think I might,” you nodded. You tried to smile but the nerves that made their way throughout your body made it difficult and, as though it was written all over your face, your friends seemed to know just what to do to bring that smile out. You were pulled into Wanda’s familiar hug with Sam closing his arms around you from the other side and with some difficulty you were manoeuvred into Kamala’s reach. It was hard not to laugh at the glimpse you caught of her, leaning across the counter, practically kneeling on a plate of cookies nearby as she stretched out to join the embrace.

Whatever happens next, they’ll be there for you.

—

Meanwhile, Yelena sat cross-legged on Natasha’s childhood bed whilst her sister lay on her back with her eyes directed at the ceiling. She could still see the mark left behind from the glow-in-the-dark stickers you’d struggled to plaster up there, ones that had slowly begun to fall down. She’d never had the heart to throw them away and the used and tattered celestials still sat in the drawer of her desk.

“This is exhausting, Natasha,” the blonde groaned. Having been witness to it all from the beginning, watching it all play out as it has has been nothing short of tedious for her. She’s never been patient and this was no different. In her trademark Yelena fashion, she resents the long and drawn-out trail of feelings being muddled up and left behind, she would rather you both get on with it.

“You don’t think I know that?” her sister sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s complicated,” Yelena mocked in a less-than-perfect impression of Natasha’s voice. “What’s so difficult, huh? You’ve always had the hots for her, she’s always ogled you, it’s simple.”

“It’s a little more nuanced than that,” she mumbled. “So much time has passed and I made a stupid mistake. I left her behind, Lena. I just left and didn’t come back - she deserves better than somebody who’d just do that.”

“You were stupid,” Yelena agreed. She didn’t let her role as Natasha’s sister blur the lines between right and wrong, when it came to what she did she didn’t shy away from berating her.

She remembered the evening it happened, the redhead coming home in tears that were a rare sight to see. She held a book in her hand that was soon shoved to the back of her wardrobe to never see the light again; she comforted her sister as best as she could but by the time she’d unmuddled the series of events Natasha was already gone. She’d made plenty of phone calls telling her sister to come and make it right but the fear had sunk its claws in and nothing she said swayed it in her favour.

“I know I was - I know. But, when I saw her that night with Pietro it just looked so real. I think I was looking for a reason to chicken out of telling her, y’know?”

“And letting yourself believe she was already dating someone was easier than her rejecting you,” Yelena nodded. She understood her sister’s reasonings no matter how illogical they truly are.

“Yeah,” she nodded with a sigh. “I mean, she’s so perfect, it wouldn’t have surprised me if he’d been lucky enough to date her. I saw it, so why wouldn’t somebody else?”

“Okay, I didn’t mean to listen but you know I can’t help myself,” Melina suddenly announced from the doorway. Of course, she’d decided to come upstairs just as a ‘confidential’ conversation was occurring. “You never told me all this.”

“That’s because you’re a gossip,” Natasha groaned, sitting up against her headboard whilst her mother took a seat on the bed too.

“I just like knowing things,” she shrugged. “So, tell me what happened.”

“Fine,” she sighed, rolling her eyes at the clear excitement on Melina’s face. “So, it was Christmas Eve, the first one after starting college. At that point, it was like we were still in high school, we were all in contact and we were all meeting up on the weekends - nothing had changed.”

“Mhm, I remember,” Melina nodded. “I was scared you were all gonna drift apart, well, until you were the one that separated from them.”

“Yeah,” Natasha sighed with a frown. “So, we were all here and I’d had a lot of time to think. I mean, I was at a different college - she was at the same one as the Maximoff’s - and, it was a lot of time without her. It gave me a lot of time to think about her, it was so different not having her at my side all the time, y’know? So it made me realise that I just had to suck it up and be honest with us both about how I feel about her.”

“I think you two were the only ones not to know,” Melina muttered beneath her breath, earning an agreeing laugh from Yelena.

“Anyway,” she scowled. “I guess it was something I was always trying to avoid. I didn’t want it to ruin the friendship we had but it got so hard to ignore. All of my assignments - the stories I’d write - they all ended up being about her. It was like all of the feelings I tried so hard to ignore were just forcing their way out like they were too big to keep down.”

She took a breath and cleared her throat, blushed at the mere thought of you and let the comfort of her mother’s hand on her arm urge her to carry on.

“I wrote her this story - it seems so silly now,” she scoffed. “It was so cheesy - the kind of thing we’d make fun of - but I couldn’t help myself. I illustrated it and wrapped a red bow around it - it was hideous but I knew it’d make her smile. And, on Christmas Eve, I made my way to where I knew she’d be.

“God, just remembering it is so ridiculous. I don’t know why I let myself get in my head,” she grumbled with a shake of her head. “She was there, sitting in the quiet part of the town square, but she was only there with Pietro. Looking back, I know that Wanda must’ve been on her way but in that moment nothing was logical.

“I stood there, just looking at her for a second. I watched her laugh and I remember being amazed that my heart truly did feel like it skipped a beat - I always thought that was just some cliche until her. And as I stood there just watching, I saw Pietro point to this piece of mistletoe hanging above them. I thought it was funny at first and carried on walking to them but then his hand was on her cheek and in my mind that was enough to make me turn back around. I suppose I thought that, in the time they’d had together whilst I’d been away, they’d - I dunno - realised feelings?”

“Oh, Natasha,” Melina whispered.

“I know. It was stupid - it was probably just some joke but I was so scared. You know I’ve never been the kind of person to wear their heart on their sleeve and that was the perfect out my brain was looking for.”

“You caused yourself so much pain, honey. So much pain you didn’t need because you feared she didn’t feel the same?”

“I suppose so,” she nodded. “I thought that, maybe, if she was happy it was enough. So, I went back to college and left it all behind. I felt awful, I did, but I wanted to keep myself away for both of our sakes. If I wasn’t there, she could get on with her life and I could try and move on. I put all of my focus into studying and then into my work - I found that pushing away all of those things that hurt me would just shield me from coming to terms with things.

“So, the friendship I tried to protect was ruined because of me. Because I was scared.”

“But now? How are things with her this time?”

“I think - I know that I still adore her. And, if she’ll have me, I would want nothing more than to just let her know how I’ve felt for all my life.”

—

Before Natasha had begun to associate Christmas with the ache in her heart, the 24th of December was a treasured occasion.

The group of you had always met up, sneaking eggnog from her parent’s fridge when you were younger, sharing it around with sips from a shared glass around a makeshift fire you’d conjure up in the garden. The cup would be passed around in secrecy and clumsily hidden beneath a blanket when an adult would approach.

As you grew closer, the two of you began to uphold a tradition and for the couple of years leading up to her departure, you’d meet up before the remainder of the group arrived. She’d meet you at the cafe with two hot chocolates in hand and she’d offer you her jacket no matter what; she always did and you always declined but it made your cheeks hot to the touch. She’d always refrain from reaching out to feel the warmth beneath her palm.

You’d walk back to her house taking the long route just to savour one another's company and neither of you would think too much about the hand she’d rest on your back whenever you’d cross the road.

You’d sit beneath the decorated canopy in the middle of town, watching people enjoy the festivities, failing to hold in your amusement when people would slip on icy ground. She’d look up at the mistletoe and swear she’d kiss you beneath the winter sprig one day, that she’d use it as one of her many excuses to press her lips to yours. She would imagine that you’d tell her she didn’t need a reason to kiss you, that she could do it whenever she liked, but she’d find any moment she could to feel your lip balm-coated mouth with the tip of her tongue.

The one year you had forgotten your gloves and, for practicality of course, she linked her hand with yours for warmth and left it there until she was leading you up to her front door. You’d help her mother with preparations for the evening’s party whilst Natasha would smile at the close relationship the two of you shared. And when the rest of the invitees would trickle in, she’d revel in your laugh. The one you’d let out at something Kate or Kamala would say when recounting the goings on of their days and the giggle you’d share with Wanda whilst having hushed conversations in the corner.

…

The last Christmas Eve you’d seen Natasha until this year, was the same as always. You were planning on meeting Natasha at your usual spot, only an hour after leaving the Maximoff twins where they were.

You sat with Pietro whilst Wanda made her way back with a cup of hot tea for herself and a latte for her brother; they were meeting up with Monica and Carol before the annual party and you were waiting with them until it was time for you to go. You’d told them you had some last-minute shopping to do and they bought the excuse - you felt rather smug at your deception and were pleased to keep your tradition with Natasha a secret. It wouldn’t be the same if it turned into a group affair - you didn’t admit that you merely wanted her for yourself. Even if it was for only a couple of hours.

You missed the teasing grin on Pietro’s face when he’d spotted the mistletoe above you and only realised what he was doing when he tugged it from its place and held it above your faces.

“Ew, Pietro,” you’d laughed, shoving him away whilst he faked a warm look your way.

“There’s something I simply must say,” he joked, cupping your cheek with a soft hand. He inched closer and closer whilst you held in your laugh, acting into the joke of a scene he was creating. “I- wow, this is hard to say,” he sighed. “I just need you to know that - that I forgot to get you a gift and just added my name to Wanda’s.”

You gasped before you both laughed.

“That actually better be a joke.”

You waited for Natasha until you got a text saying she was stuck helping her mum and the rest of the evening was sullied with some kind of unspoken melancholy that you could not understand.

…

Two weeks ago, Natasha was called into her editor’s office to be given the task of creating a winter story. She listened to the requirements she was expected to reach; a heartfelt children’s book, the wonder of winter with a happy ending.

It wasn’t something she was overly familiar with anymore. The magic of the season had long left her when she left you and, though she accepted the job, she was unsure of how to complete it. Her books always held a part of her, every story she wrote had a piece of her soul bared throughout the pages.

She’d gone home and began to plan, sipping a glass of red wine whilst her laptop screen remained blank.

After a few days of sitting on the problem she’d been presented with, and a lengthy conversation with her closest friend in New York, she thought it time to visit home. After all of this time away she thought she could go back easily enough, feelings may have been dulled and the town that was the epitome of a winter wonderland would fuel her creativity.

She just didn’t expect to take one look at you and have every feeling she’d ever held for you to come flooding to the surface. It was quite a story indeed.

And, though she was apprehensive at first, she’d found that opening up the warm-hearted part of her that she had forced closed many moons ago was just the spark she needed. She’d found inspiration at home - her true home. She found it with you.

…

Your heart was beating with the buzz of nerves in your chest, stomach swarming whilst your palms grew clammy despite the biting cold that came with the slowly falling snow.

Each step up the Romanoff’s driveway drew you closer to a conversation that made your head blurred. It had taken the entire group of your friends to give you the courage to leave your apartment for this; despite the way it was your decision to confess the feelings that were eating you whole, you were the one holding yourself back.

After much convincing, you bit the bullet to finally let yourself pull your heart from your chest and hand it over. They’d all assured you they were a phone call away no matter what happens.

You almost dared to turn back as soon as your knuckles tapped against the translucent window of the front door; you could see the blurry sight of a Christmas wreath against the glass and you could hear Yelena shout that she would answer the knock.

“Oh, hi,” she smiled as soon as she saw you, taking in your nervous appearance.

“Hi, Yelena,” you returned. “Um, is Natasha here?”

“No, actually,” she answered. “She went for a walk - think she said she might be going to the bar. You might be able to catch up with her if you hurry.”

“Alright, thanks, Lena,” you smiled. “See you tomorrow,” you finished with a wave.

“See you tomorrow,” she smirked, clearly planning to go and conspire with Melina about why you might be looking for her sister.

It wasn’t a particularly long walk, and the few minutes it took only enabled you to think about what you were going to say. You had it planned as perfectly as you could get it, a curated script you hoped she’d conform with. You’d risk making a fool of yourself otherwise, treading with the possibility of letting your butterfly inducing feelings for her get the best of you.

And, when you saw the bar ahead of you it only made your heart hit against your chest even faster. You saw the back of her head through the window, hair plaited and falling against her jacket; somehow, just seeing her, made your steps grow almost up to speed with your heart.

You opened the door into the bustling building, making your way past a few people with the subtle scent of beer lingering in the air.

You saw her before she saw you. The large grin that pulled at her eyes was directed elsewhere, though, and the hug she stood up to take part in was not with you. Her body locked with another woman’s, somebody she was familiar with by the way it lingered. Her cheek was kissed and her smile never wavered and your heart that had been beating so quickly you feared it might explode was now still, sitting in your throat as you swallowed thickly.

They shared large smiles and their hands entwined atop the small wooden table.

You couldn’t see anymore. Your fists clenched at your sides and you left as quickly as you arrived, not sparing a glance backwards. If you couldn’t be with her tonight, you wanted to be alone.

[garpen]

Dick is like season 1 Cosmos from The Fairly Odd Parents when he was so in love with Wanda until the writers decided to make him always say those kinda sexist jokes about how he hates his marriage.

Dick is so in love with Kori and I’m living for it. He gonna treat her right and ik it.

Tbh if she was my wife I’d be posting about it nonstop either!

Season 1 Cosmo with his "I love my wife" attitude and not being the butt of every joke kinda hits tbh 👀

But like yeah that's Exactly how Dick is to me, and I love to see it. DC= Disregard Canon.

(if Kori was my wife I'd treat her SO right, never shut up about it, and make being her partner my entire personality tbh)

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hello! 👋 I love your work, especially your Pietro Maximoff stuff. He deserves more recognition and writers like you do an amazing job providing it. If you’re doing requests, what would you think of Pietro x Stark!daughter in AOU; enemies to lovers HCs or one shot? They meet when HYDRA is infiltrated & struggle w/ their growing attraction to each other. Maybe she takes a bullet for Pietro in Sokovia and he stays by her side as she recovers. It’s up to you. Take care!

hii!! thank you sm :(( I did hcs, hope that’s okay, im having writers block, and anything other than hcs breaks my brain. thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

ACROSS ENEMY LINE (headcanons)

pietro maximoff x stark!daughter reader. 667

— I think tony and the rest of the team would be apprehensive about you going out into the field - wanting you to wait in the quinjet while they did their thing (the opening of AOU) 

— but while you're in the jet, you can see the people on the radar thing (im talking out my ass, but basically seeing wanda and pietro) so you're able to see them before the team - so you try using comms to give them a heads up, but the signal is lost

— so you'd do as you were instructed NOT TO DO - leave the jet. you make your way towards clint first, and then that's when you see pietro (he knocked you over as well as clint) so he's talking down to you too - he makes a quick snarky comment. maybe he says, "you didn't see that coming," to you instead (ik sorry canon) 

— im gonna say it and I hate it bc it makes me cringe, but maybe time stands still (guess that works for pietro bc he moves so fast he can slow down a singular moment???) anyway, you'd both be looking at each other (obviously communicating with eyes) until he speeds away, maybe nat tries to blast him, so she can help clint

— then all the usual movie plot happens. you regroup, offering to help - but tony kinda shuns you for not doing as asked

— then more movie stuff happens until you meet pietro again when they try to stop vision being born ?? (haven't watched it in a little while, but I think that's when they're all together next) maybe you exchange a few questioning glances, bc you're both once again on opposite sides

— while everyone is trying to stop each other - he and you do the same. he's focused on stopping you, like you him, but bc of his speed, he practically runs circles around you. then he repeats the comment to you again. or maybe he's keeping you occupied so you don't get hurt by being caught up in the middle

— vision is born and that's when you all truce - trying to find a way to stop ultron

— on the quinjet, you and pietro are seated next to each other, and it's kinda icy (maybe you're butt hurt about him beating you twice) he tries to call it even saying, "you know, we're on the same side now. you have to like me,"

— maybe you make a "mhm," sound - unamused. but he tries again, saying his name and extending a hand, "sorry for earlier... when I beat you... twice," but he's joking and laughing, not actually serious about a truce (your loss kinda thing)

— you don't talk for the rest of journey to sokovia

— rest of the movie stuff happens (but instead of ulton with the flying gun thing, one of the bots is after pietro who is protecting clint and that kid)

— you get shot in the shoulder when you basically become a shield (instead of pietro - sorry I had to say it)

— pietro helps you to the helicarrier - wanting you to get medical attention. he's all panicked, in shock of what just happened. he'd curse you out saying that was stupid and you shouldn't have done that but he's glad you're not dead

— he won't leave your side when you get stitched up, offering to hold your hand if it hurts. he'd have sympathy pains and would be encouraging (bc you literally just saved his life) !! after you're sorted he'd ask why you did it, maybe you say "you didn't see it coming," haha get it? bc it's switched over? he laughs, and it silently creates a truce between you. then you say the actual reason, something about not leaving someone behind, or it's what your dad would do

— maybe you're about to have a little moment, but you both brush it off - wanting to save it for when the adrenaline wears off 

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[wandasaura]

hi aura i missed u!! idk i’ve been thinking about the yail au all day it’s driving me insane i think i’m a fein for it but that’s good!! ☺️

so ik it’s canon that ducky gets super hot at night (same) and sleeps with little to nothing on so what would her go to sleeping position be cuz i mean everyone’s got that super duper comfy position

i believe ducky is the type to sleep on her stomach which would drive wandanat crazy cuz the slight arch this creates omggg and shed probably have her arms under the pillow

how would wandanat react to r dressed a bit more “masc” sometimes, like boxers (both the loose comfy ones and maybe the tighter briefs and stuff) or maybe like a wife beater tank top or maybe the combo. like even tho wandanat and r have an age gap, they still know what’s up. like imagine r wearing grey sweats that sag a bit showing off boxers and a white tank top or sports bra type of thing, like wandanat knows. they know. and i know the grey sweatpants theory doesn’t technically work on women, it’s still a look. would stuff like this drive them crazy as it isn’t her usual look? like would r ever even wear this shit lmaoo. if so, is it just in the house as it’s comfy or would she go out in this? just some curious little thoughts !

duckling wouldn't wear this, but in know my place, r steals all of their clothes whenever they're done fucking her into the mattress, so she has a random assortment of clothes and styles. and when they all meet up one night she's dressed in maria's tank, carols boxers, and natasha's sweats wearing wanda's pink slippers that the sokovian didn't even realise was missing. it's not her typical style, but it's also not unusual for her to wear something more masculine when they're just hanging out, but they literally cannot keep their hands off of her knowing that she's wearing their clothes. maria's the first one to crack, and she pulls r into her lap and grabs her tits over the tank and comments on how "little girls should wear bras if they don't want their nipples pinched", and carol smirks about the boxers like, "if you wanted me to use you whenever you should've just asked. don't even have to pull your panties to the side, i can just..." and she snakes her hand into the cut out in the boxers meanwhile wanda and natasha are just ogling her waiting until they can have a turn.

[ahhhwomen]

Not A Toy?

Trigger Happy AU

Part 3

Pairing: Dark!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Ik ik, everything has been written in very excruciating detail so far, this one being no exception, but I promise I'm going to up the speed and intensity very soon. Also, I am sorry if this one is a bit rushed, I just wanted to get it out there. Def not my favorite chapter...

Disclaimer: English is not my first language; all mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Kidnapping, murder, Mommy kink, smut, pet play, death (not main characters), framed murder, violence, drugging, angst, obsession, dub-con/rape-con | Minors DNI 18+

Warnings Part 3: Mommy kink, stalker Wanda, kidnapping (?), slightly stupid reader

Summary: Maybe you are more to Wanda than just a Toy.

Word Count: 1157

Your apartment had never been the best. When you moved in, months prior, that much became apparent. It was filthy, small, and there were large gaps between some of the floorboards. However, money was tight after you were cut off from your family, and the neighborhood wasn’t the worst. So, you took what you could.

You had lived there for all of 2 weeks before you got a roommate. In those 2 weeks, you tried to make it more pleasant and feel more like home. You got a carpet to hide the large gaps, you moved the furniture to make it feel like more space, and you deep cleaned.

As you came to learn, Jessica didn’t care much for that sort of stuff. Between college, working a part-time job, having a boyfriend, and loving parties, Jessica was barely even there. She had never bothered to do much around the apartment, she never cleaned, and never took any interest in changing things around.

It's therefore safe to say you are a bit confused as you take in the scene in front of you.

Why is your coach upside down?

You have no clue how you didn’t see it until now. It wasn’t like you, you had always praised yourself on your observation skills.

That damn policewoman was doing a number on you.

You are just about to pull your phone out when you hear a creak, another issue with the floorboards. The sound came from Jessica's room.

Your apartment has felt off ever since you came home, but now it feels like you are somewhere else entirely. Suddenly everything was colder, and your skin prickles with chills.

Your feet slowly inch closer to Jessica's door, trying to stay silent, and your hands push gently on the handle. Sweat runs down your back and you hold your breath, the tension is heavy in the air. With the handle down, you being to put a slight weight into the door. The door creaks open to reveal….

Nothing.

Your eyes scan the room, everything the same as when you left this morning. You let out a shaky breath, relieved, you close the door again.  

You remind yourself to send a quick text to your roommate about the furniture rearrangement before you walk back to the bathroom.

///////

Wanda bites back a groan as the door presses lightly against her. She can hear your hands shaking against the handle.

She had meant to get out before you came home, but you turn out to be a fast walker.

After her work was done for the day Wanda had spent a substantial amount of time tracking this roommate of yours. She was a busy girl. She worked at a local diner most of the week but had Mondays and Wednesdays off. She hung out with her boyfriend, that lived 2 blocks away, almost every day. She took a liking to people, always having to be around someone. She seemed to be your complete opposite.

By what intel Wanda gathered, you were a quiet girl, who liked to keep to yourself. You were sweet and always willing to help, but large groups of people made you uncomfortable.

You were perfect. Well-mannered, sweet, lonely. A good girl.

Hers.

Wanda is good at hiding her less savory side. Obsessive behavior never looked good on paper. She had only ever allowed herself to indulge in smaller doses. However, Wanda couldn’t just fuck this urge out with a random pretty girl she picked up like she was used to.

No.

Wanda needed you.

She needs to have you, nurse you, fuck you. She needs to hold you, have you wrapped around her like the little kitten you are. Hers, and only hers.

She just needed to push you a little.

So, she did what anyone would do, and began staging her crime scene.

Your apartment wasn’t exactly big, so how would a big fight play out in such a small space? Wanda was testing your living room when she heard your keys jingle in the hallway.

“I’m home!”

Wanda smiled a little.

You must have been so sleepy. There was a little crack in the door Wanda could look at you through, and you walked right passed the flipped coach and started getting your dinner ready. Wanda had to hold back a disapproving sigh as you picked up a microwavable dinner.

You were a growing girl who requires proper sustenance. Not, whatever was in those plastic tubs.

As the timer on the microwave counted down, you looked lost in thought. Wanda wondered what you were thinking about as your teeth sank into your lip, your scrunched-up nose indicating you were worried. Wanda's hands griped the door, if something was bothering her girl, it bothered Wanda.

Luckily you snapped out of it rather fast and got to eating.

You occur to be quite the messy eater. It was adorable the way you would huff in annoyance as the table became smothered in your mess.

Wanda made a mental note to always feed you on a mat. She didn’t want her floors to be stained like your table was.

You stood up.

Wanda couldn’t get a proper view of the bathroom from where she stood. She had intended on moving just a little bit to the left when her foot hit a loose tile.

Shit!

Wanda could hear you try to sneak over to the door, and she saw the handle slowly move downwards. If she made even the tiniest of noises Wanda knew the gig would be over. She pressed herself into the wall and held her breath.

You paused for a second when the door was almost all the way open. Wanda could hear you sigh. Then close the door again.

You make your way back to the bathroom.

Wanda stands there baffled for a second before sneaking out when she picks up the water running.

Who doesn’t open the door all the way when they think an intruder is in the house?

You just have to be happy it was only Wanda.

///////

“SOMEONE PLEASE!” The filth sobs as her voice echoes back to her.

Wanda smirks.

Don’t worry, it will all be over very soon.

[benedictscanvas]

Hi loveee❤️

So i have a request for Steve Rogers x reader

So basically the reader is shy! Insecure maybe

She is really quiet and has a badd crush on the captain but is not able to express her feelings necessarily. Overthinks alot. It's Steve's birthday and she works really hard on knitting a scarf because he once told her his ma used to knit him scarves. She writes a sweet letter for him along with it finally expressing her feelings. On his birthday they sit around and he decides to open everyone's gifts. She starts thinking her gift is nothing compared to tony's bmw or nat's gold wrist watch and basically tells him that she had ordered his gift but it got delayed. He finds out about her scarf and letter and confronts her💕

Ends with alot of fluffff 😌❤️

Ik this is all over the place but i needed to vent this idea here😂

This is utterly adorable and so are youuuu, thank you for a gorgeous request, my lovely <3 I got a little carried away with it! || 2.2k words of pure fluff

The little parcel is wrapped in deep red paper, tied with a crisp blue ribbon and the ends are curled with scissors. You've hidden it underneath the sofa where you're sat in its corner, both feet on the floor in an extra attempt to conceal its whereabouts. It's difficult not to be a little embarrassed by the effort you've put into it, but you keep reminding yourself the kind of person Steve is. How much he appreciates effort above end result.

But still, the reason it's hidden at all is in case you bottle it and can't hand it to him. You feel safer with a get out clause.

"Go on, Cap, start with me. We all know you save the best til first."

Tony, of course, is the one to kick proceedings off by handing Steve a golden envelope. So extreme, and funnily enough, so not Steve. But you knew that theatrics were Tony's thing and that whatever was inside would likely be perfect for him.

And you were right. Inside the envelope were two tickets to see the new play on Broadway that Steve had been dying to see. Tickets were so scarce even the Avengers themselves had been having trouble securing them, but Tony was a cut above the rest. Steve looked genuinely thrilled, far more than he had when he'd seen the envelope.

"This is too kind, Tony, thank you. Really."

A look of understanding passed between them. There was a lump in your throat. You subtly adjusted your foot so that your heel nudged the present further under the sofa.

"We get it, he's very rich," Sam said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, "But mine's a knockout, seriously. You're gonna crap yourself, Tin Man."

He launched a present across the room at Steve who caught it with little effort, but shook his head at the room's antics. This mass present opening had, of course, not been his idea. He would much rather have done all this individually with everyone, or better yet, not done it at all and have nobody even remember that it was his birthday. But they'd all insisted behind his back. Obviously. You'd been there, and wanted to speak up about whether it would really be Steve's thing, but you didn't want to sound like you were knocking their kindness.

Sam had bought him a new sketchbook, but it was circular, and bore the design of his shield on the front. Thoughtful and, again, expensive, according to Steve, who had immediately examined the quality of the paper inside with wide, appreciative eyes.

Nat had bought him a new watch, and swore she got it completely legally and above board. That was expensive too. Vision and Wanda produced a gorgeous vintage record player that she had apparently enchanted to play whatever Steve wanted to hear. Bruce had built him an actual motorbike.

It was all a bit much. Yes, you were an Avenger too and you could afford whatever you would have wanted to get Steve, but you'd really thought homemade would be a million times more appreciated. Would show just how important he had become to you.

Unlike Bruce, unfortunately your version of homemade could not include a new bike.

Everyone's presents came and went while you were stuck in your own head, struggling not to hyperventilate, until Bucky placed a friendly hand on your shoulder.

"Just you left, doll."

You hadn't even seen what Bucky had given him, lost in your own musings. You were sure it would have been beautiful, Bucky knew him inside out. It was clear that your mind had been made up, anyway. You plastered a sheepish look on your face that wasn't all that made up.

"I meant to say before we started, your present hasn't arrived yet, Steve," you said, sorrowful, even though he was smiling at you as if what you'd said had no meaning, "I'm really sorry. I'll get it to you as soon as its here."

"I hope you know that none of you had to get me anything anyway," he said honestly, looking around the room before his gaze landed back on you, "Please don't worry."

You smiled, small and unconvincing, nodding your agreement. You rose from your seat, assuming the proceedings had finished for now before the not-so-surprise party later that evening. You delivered a final back-heeled kick to the present as you stood up, just to make sure it was fully under the sofa.

"I'm still sorry," you said quietly, "I need to go and get ready, I'll see you all later."

You turned and all but fled the room, not staying to hear Tony's confusion about you not usually needing any time at all to get ready for anything. You had specifically been trying not to make a scene, and somehow you'd made one anyway. It was difficult to keep the tears in your eyes at bay.

You just felt silly. It was something you hadn't really felt since high school until this year, and now you often felt a little silly anytime you left Steve's presence. He was just so good and so unbelievably attractive and made you feel so utterly at home when you spent time with him - it was difficult not to feel silly afterwards when you lay on your bed and romanticised your every interaction.

When you were actually with him, though, he never made you feel silly. He made you feel funny and intelligent and altogether giddy sometimes, but never silly. The way he valued your words, your opinions, your company, it was impossible for your heart not to skip inside your chest.

You retreated to your bed now, flopping down right in the centre of it, tired and crying. Just a little bit. He was so kind to you, all the time. He would've pretended he loved the scarf. He would've liked it, probably, but he couldn't love it, not when it was such a tiny gesture compared with everyone else's.

And the note. Shit, amongst all the dread and anxiety, you had forgotten the note. Neatly taped to the parcel and longer than it should have been. For Steve's eyes only. Practically a confession. If you hadn't have fled, you would've been forced to give that to him in front of anyone, which categorically could not happen.

"Y/N? You in there?"

Steve. You froze, then hastily wiped at your eyes, checking them in the mirror. They were a little red, but you hoped he wasn't feeling observant on his birthday. Plastering on a smile, you opened the door. He filled the entire doorframe, all broad shoulders and-

You tried to stop that thought before it blossomed.

"Sorry, just picking out an outfit. Everything okay?"

"I came to ask you that," he said, and he almost looked embarrassed but you had no idea why, "Why wouldn't you give me your present?"

You frowned.

"I told you-"

He brought the parcel, your parcel, out from behind his back. Ah. You must have kicked it hard enough for it to come out the other side. Stupid. The embarrassment suddenly made sense. He gestured for you to let him inside, since you were still blocking the entrance, so you traipsed over to sit on your bed. If he was looking embarrassed, you guessed he'd read the note. This was torture.

"I haven't opened it," he said quickly, shutting your down and sitting next to you. He kept his distance, "And I won't, if you don't want me to. But I'd really, really like to, if you'll let me."

"You read the note?" you asked, slumped and resigned to your fate, surprised by the confusion that darted across his features. You noticed the present was the wrong way up. He hadn't turned it over. For some reason, maybe self-destruction or a cruel strand of hope, you turned it over for him, to the side where the bow and the note were on full display. Untouched.

"I didn't see it," he murmured to himself, "Can I?"

Still he waited for your permission. Such a lovely man, with such lovely eyes that, even now, were looking at you with delicate care. It ached. You nodded.

He untied the bow with careful fingers that almost looked shaky in the low lamp light you'd curated within your room. The envelope was opened with equal care, and soon he was holding the A5 paper in front of his face, eyes scanning through the words.

Steve,

You told me once that your ma used to knit you scarves, that sometimes you wished you still had one of them now. I know it could never be the same, but I hope this keeps you warmer than you would be without it. One of your gifts, I think, is to bring warmth to everyone around you and the warmth you have brought to my own life is indescribable. I could never repay it, but this is a step in the right direction, I hope.

Happy birthday, Steve.

Yours, Y/N

You held your breath as he read. You could remember each line painstakingly, having taken so long to craft it. Even he wasn't oblivious enough not to recognise the meaning behind your words, the feeling that weaved itself around the page.

It had been too long. When you braved a glance at his face, his eyeline told you he was reading it a second time. You watched him get to the end and start from the beginning. Again.

You may have been unbelievably nervous, but it didn't erase your impatience.

"You're going to have to say something at some point, Steve," you breathed, not realised how out of breath you'd gotten just watching him. His eyes snapped to yours like he'd forgotten you were there. Wide and disbelieving. Impossible to read, "Or you can just leave, I guess, if you want. We don't have to talk about it again, it was such a stupid-"

He shook his head, stopping your train of thought from spiralling. But instead of speaking, he set the letter down neatly on his lap and ripped open the wrapping paper, pulling out a knitted scarf that was striped brown and beige and designed to match his leather jacket perfectly. You'd searched for the right yarn for weeks. You'd never tell him.

"How long?"

His words were little more than a whisper. There were so many things he could have been talking about.

"How long what?"

"How long did it take?" he said, turning the fabric over in his hands, running his fingers over the stitches with fingers that were definitely trembling now, "To make it, I mean?"

"Oh, not long-" you began, but stopped when he looked up at you with tears in his eyes. You felt that lump in your throat again. You'd never seen him cry. It was impossible to tell him anything but the truth, "A few months. Whenever I had a free moment and not every single day, but a few months. Five, actually."

He just stared. You kept talking.

"I just wanted it special for you. I'm sorry I lied. Everyone spent so much, I got embarrassed. It was silly."

"Not silly," he said, firm and serious, like he was angry you'd even think it, "You're not silly. You're perfect, this is perfect. I can't- I can't believe you'd remember such a tiny comment from so long ago."

You shrugged. He'd just called you perfect and you were trying not to glow.

"You'd remember. You always remember things I've said, however small or silly. Wanted someone to do that for you."

"You're not silly, you've never been silly," he says again, clutching the scarf and staring down at it again rather than you, "I only remember that stuff because I'm so in love with you I can't stand it. I never thought you'd-"

Now you were lightheaded. Had he...? He was still staring at the scarf, awestruck and looking completely oblivious to what he'd just said. But he meant it. Steve never said anything he didn't mean. Now you were glowing, bursting, grinning and you didn't try to stop it.

"You never thought I'd be so in love with you too that I can barely breathe with it?" you supplied, watching again as his watery eyes snapped up to yours once more, shock bleeding from him, "You thought wrong, I guess. Surprise."

You giggled at yourself, because you were talking nonsense and Steve loved you. It was heaven when he giggled too, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, not the scarf, and then offering you the material. You took it wordlessly, understanding between you as there always was, and wound it around his neck. It fit perfectly.

He took your hand from the scarf you were adjusting before you could react and kissed your thumb. At your sheer delight, he kissed your forefinger, then your middle, ring, pinky and then right back up to the thumb, tiny little kisses. He stared at your hand.

"Magic," he said softly, taking your hand and his to cup your cheek. You couldn't help but close your eyes, "Promise me you'll never feel embarrassed with me again. I can't bear it. You're just magic, you have to see it."

For him, you could try. For now, all you could do was lean in to kiss him and hope you'd get to do it forever.

if you'd like to request something, please do so here. i'd love to hear from you, sunflower <3

[queerpumpkinnn]

So for the Sapphic September, (ik it's only August but im excited) i was wondering if you could write a little something of fem!reader x Wanda Maximoff and she cooks for the reader and they have a cute little breakfast date<3

Oh and also hi ilysm and your writing is *mwah* 🤌

anything for you lee <33

Sapphic September 1st: Monte Cristo, Dearest

0.6k words

Summary: Breakfast date at home with Wanda!

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: eating, pure sweet fluff, like one sexual innuendo, let me know if I've missed anything!

~

The feeling of gentle lips pressed to your temple roused you, against your own will. In truth, you'd been awake for an hour, but you relished in the weighted, blurry state that made your flesh feel as stone for as long as you could.

But as lulling as that was, too many enticing sensations were pricking your senses. A sweet scent tickled your nostrils from somewhere around you, light blaring at you even through your eyelids, the rich hum that encouraged you to blink open your eyes.

"Good morning, lazy."

You peered up at the woman in front of you. You mentally flipped her the bird, and she could probably see you doing it. She laughed upon seeing you lift your head from the pillow- partly because she knew it held no real venom, and partly because there were probably lines on the side of your face.

"Not lazy." You mumbled, rolling halfway onto your back to stretch.

"Mm, a little lazy." Wanda smiled. "It's ten thirty."

"That's early. You should commend me for being up before noon." You smacked your lips, sitting up slowly.

"Oh, should I?" She rolled her eyes, but wrapped her arms around you nonetheless. "Is breakfast reward enough?"

You pursed your lips, sighing. "I think so."

"Good." She stood up. "'Cause it's ready."

You gave a tiny huff. You didn't want to stand. That was preposterous of her to even suggest.

"Wanda?" Your voice was still hoarse, so it sounded feebler than you intended.

"Hm?"

"Can we eat in bed?" You clasped your hands together under your chin and batted your eyelashes up at her. "Pretty please?"

Wanda tilted her head back then gave a groan. "Fine."

You giggled. "Thank you Wanda!" Your tone resembled that of a kindergarten class thanking someone on a teacher's cue.

"You're welcome. If you spill powdered sugar on the comforter you are washing it."

"Needs a wash anyway." You muttered, flopping back onto your side.

"Uh huh, whose fault is that?" Wanda grinned, stepping through the doorway.

You gasped incredulously, reaching for one of the small decorative pillows you'd discarded at the foot of the bed. "Yours!" You tossed it in her direction, but it thumped noiselessly on the door.

Luckily for her, you couldn't hit her as soon as she got back because she was carrying two plates of what looked like sandwiches- you could only see the bread from your angle.

"What's this?" You asked, stretching your neck for a better view, though she was already placing it in front of you.

"Monte Cristo, dearest." She placed a quick kiss to your hair before stepping out and returning with napkins and drinks.

Once she'd settled under the covers with you, you took her hand and squeezed it.

"Thank you." This time it was said softly and sincerely.

"You're welcome, bubs." She squeezed your hand thrice, tiny crinkles forming under her eyes.

The two of you fell into a comfortable quiet. It wasn't silence, but there was something about the atmosphere that felt like a serene little bubble, like nothing existed outside of the bedroom and time didn't exist within it. It was a reset button for the both of you, having a moment to simply sit in peace and enjoy being.

Well, sort of.

"I swear to god you're not even two bites in-"

"It's not my fault powdered sugar is aerodynamic!"

~

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist

Sapphic September Masterlist

Marvel Masterlist

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[yelenasdiary]

hey i hv a request for flufftober

would u write a fic where r is reading a book in bed & wanda is just going about her nightly routine & r is just admiring her & when wanda finishes she gets in bed & cuddles into r & they fall asleep

ik this is shit u don't hv to write it

Hard To Focus

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda’s beauty distracts you from your night-time reading.  

| Fluff | 0.6K | 

AC: I miss Wanda so much!! I hope you enjoy this!!  

Every night was usually the same, well most nights. You'd be sat up in bed, nice and comfortable while Wanda was in the bathroom humming her favorite songs while she did her nightly routine. Applying her nightly skin care to her face before brushing her teeth and plaiting her hair to prevent it getting too messy by morning.  At first it was her humming that started to distract you from the printed words in your book but soon you'd find yourself completely lost in a moment of awe as you watched Wanda carefully rub the cream into her skin before washing it out only to apply another. 

Sometimes you wondered how you got so lucky to be with somebody as special as Wanda. She was everything you'd ever dreamt about, she was soft like a marshmallow, warm like a Christmas sweater by the fire, she gave you a sense of belonging and the love she gave you felt like it was right out of the princess movies you watched as a kid, only this was far better than your typical fairy-tale love story. 

"Take a picture honey" Wanda chuckled from the bathroom breaking you from your daydream, "huh?" you blinked a few times, seeing her smiling at you through the mirror, "sorry honey, I was just thinking about this chapter" you lied, Wanda could see the redness in your cheeks get brighter but she went on about her routine, brushing her teeth while you quickly fell back to watching her in awe.

The way her long hair sat almost too perfectly made you want to run your fingers through it any chance you got before she'd put it up into two plaits and when she'd get tooth paste on her chin you wanted to wipe it off with your thumb before she'd wash her mouth with mouthwash. Any chance you had to hold her, you wanted to do so which is why when she was finally finished with her routine, you knew exactly when to close your book and place it back inside your bedside table before she could climb into bed. 

"What a day!" Wanda sighed as she kicked off her slippers and pulled the covers back on her side of the bed. "Tired, are we?" you asked as you made yourself comfortable ready to have your arms wrapped around Wanda and her head resting gently on your chest. "Mission reports can take it out of you when you have to sit there for hours and listen to Thor and Scott ramble on!" she replied, finally getting into bed, and pulling the covers over her. You couldn't help but smile softly to yourself when Wanda naturally made herself comfortable, snuggling up to you and resting her head exactly where you wanted it. "You're nice and warm" she added before you could reply. 

"Well at least they're over now" you smiled as you held her tightly beside you, "I think we should take a trip next week, the two of you us" Wanda slightly looked up at you with her big beautiful green eyes. "Where do you want to go baby?" you asked, Wanda hummed in thought, "why don't we just take the car and see where we end up? I think a few days away would be good" you nodded at her response and gently placed a kiss on her lips, "I'm sure we can do that"

After moments of small talk and shared giggles, the two of you soon started drifting off to sleep, you always stayed up until you heard Wanda's gentle snores or when she'd start to mumble in her sleep but this time, she waited for you. Hearing your heavy leveled out breathing drew her more and more into slumber as she stayed snuggled into your side in your arms where she felt safest.

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz  | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @wandsmxmff | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @lizzieslcver | @youralphawolf72 | @donnietarantino | @natashamaximoff69 | @hehehehannahthings | @pandaemonium111 | 

[scarlet--wiccan]

Ik Pietro uses social media (or atleast used to) but do you think Wanda would?

In #1 of Avengers: No Road Home, Wanda claims that she's avoiding social media so she doesn't have to watch Pietro's attempt at becoming an "instagram star." She brings it up because Clint asks if she's seen any of his posts about the West Coast Avengers, so the implication is that she does have social media, she's just not using it at the moment.

I think it's worth remembering that when they're not, like, Being Superheroes, most of these characters are early-thirty-somethings living in modern America. They probably do a lot of the stuff that you or I would think of as "normal." Do I think Wanda is super active on social media? No, I'm sure she has some of the basics.

[doudouneverte]

Not so perfect little girl

a/n: i changed a little thing in the request and sorry for the lack of interaction between the twins and the R

*not my GIFs*

Wanda Maximoff x Sister!Reader x Pietro Maximoff; Clint Barton x Teen!Reader(platonic)

Request: Requested by [@darkstar225]

I'd like to request a comfort/hurt fic with Maximoff!Sister (You could do it as sibling if you don't feel comfy writing a female reader, sorry if you do) if possible, I don't find that many fics about this, especially with Pietro included 💀

The other Avengers could be platonic, maybe she/they have a bad day in school and get hurt and the others find out, tell Wanda (if she doesn't find out first and talks with Pietro about it) and try to make her feel better or just stay there with her, just a suggestion. Whatever you do ik I'll love, tysm for reading this and hope you have a nice day <3

Summary: You feel not enought...

Type: i tried to do a H/C

Warning: low self-estime(?)

word count: ~1300

-------

The Avengers were in the living room when a phone rang, and they stopped their activities to know whose phone rang. But they didn't have to search for long until Clint picked up his phone.

"Hello?" he said.

"Mr. Barton?" a man asked on the other side.

"Himself," Clint replied.

"I'm Mr. Johnson, the principal of Y/n" he said, and the archer started to worry. "I called you because we have a problem with Ms. Maximoff," your principal explained.

"Okay, I'm on my way," the archer said and immediately left the tower. During the trip to your school, he was very worried. When you came to New York with your siblings, Steve became their guardian, but you asked Clint to be yours; he was the only Avenger you were pretty close with at first. You started school for a few months now, and you have been a good student until the last few weeks.

You had been in Mr. Johnson's office for a moment before you heard knocks on his door. He walked to open the door, and your body tensed when you saw Clint. But the avenger tensed when he saw your state; you were covered in bruises and your lips were bleeding. He quickly ran to you after he greeted your principal to make sure you were okay.

"What's happened to her?" he asked worried at the other adult in the room.

"That's why you're here," Mr. Johnson said, taking a seat. "Y/n, started a fight against three other classmates," he explained, and Clint looked at him in shock.

"Wait, did you see her condition? Are you sure because, from what I see, she was the victim of her classmate." the Avenger said, and you chuckled.

"Mr. Barton, Y/n broke the nose of one of them; the ankle of the second, and the wrist of the last," he replied. "And two of them were guys from the football team." he added, and even if he knew he should be angry, Clint couldn't help but chuckle. "Listen, I know it seems funny, but I have to deal with six angry parents. I'm sorry, but I must expel Y/n for a week." he announced.

"What? But it wasn't my fault." you defended yourself.

"I would let it slide if it was the first time I saw you in this office, but unfortunately for both of us, it's not." your principal said, and the archer frowned his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"It's nothing." you said, but the man in front of you didn't think like you.

"Y/n spent the past few weeks skipping some classes and even detention." he admitted, and Clint was now looking at you. "I don't know what happened with her, but I'm sure she could use this week to think about her attitude." he added, and if glare could kill, your principal should be six feet underground now.

"I'm sorry, I'll talk with her about this." the Avenger, and after they said their goodbyes, you were now in Clint's car. There was a silence; he didn't start the car; you knew how long he waited, and honestly, you were too tired from the past few weeks to play with him.

"I'm sorry." you whispered, and he looked at you. "I shouldn't do that, but that's not my fault, I swear. I was with my friends, and one girl came to sit in front of me and started to say some hurtful things about Wanda and Pietro." you explained, and he nodded.

"And for the past few weeks?" he asked, and you didn't reply. He started the car, the drive to the tower was quiet when you arrived, he didn't unlock the doors. "So, are we talking now, or do you continue to act like a spoil child?" he asked, and you lowered your head.

"What do you expect to hear? I'm not the perfect little girl you want me to be." you replied, and he was shocked, not only by your words but also by your tone.

He placed his hand on your shoulder, and you met his gaze. "Who wants you to be a perfect little girl?" he asked, and the tears started to fall on your cheeks.

"Everyone." you admitted between sobs, "They always said I should do more, that I could do more. But what if I can't?" you said. Clint didn't say anything and just gave you a side hug. "I'm sorry." you said, and the archer pulled you away to look at you.

"Why?" he asked carefully.

"To not be enough," you replied, and instantly fell apart again. This time, his hug was tighter.

"You're enough Y/n" he said.

"But why does everyone have to say I should be more? Smarter because my sister is, or more athletic because my brother is? Or I should have powers because they both have." you said while you were crying.

"Hey little bunny, look at me." he ordered, and you looked at him. "I don't know who said that, but I can assure you they didn't know you. You don't have to move things with your mind or run faster than any arrow I could shoot to be someone. You're you. You're Y/n Maximoff; you don't have to be someone else." he said.

"How do you do that?" you asked him, and he frowned his eyebrows. "How you can fight among super soldiers, god, a man with an iron armor, enhanced people, a Hulk, and even your best friend have a little super serum, but you don’t seem to be a burden." you explained, and he laughed.

"Honestly, I don't know myself, but I think that's just why I'm training." he replied. "You don't have to be someone like them if you don't want, you can be just you. I'll always be here with you, we will be the only fully human beings in this group of super people," he smiled.

"And how should I be able to do what I want when every time someone or something reminds me what I should be." you replied, and he sighed.

"You know, I don't really trust in fate. But I start to think that maybe if life hadn't given you superpowers, it's not because you're not worthy or anything, no, I think life gave you a way to distance yourself from them. You don't have to be like them; you can be just you." he said, and you chuckled.

"I don't like superhero speeches," you replied, and he laughed.

"It was not really a superhero speech, more of a father speech." he said, and you cried again. "And if you really want to be an Avenger like them, I think Tony would be glad to make you a suit." he added, but you shook your head.

"If I become an Avenger, I want to be a hero like you. I don't need any armor." you said.

"You know I'm not someone you should take as an idol. I did bad things before being the man I am today." he said, and you nodded.

"Yeah, I know, but you helped Natasha when she needed it, and you helped us too. I don't know, but I think if life decides to make me just a simple human, I think I could be a human hero, and I need to learn it from the best of them." you said, and he hugged you again.

"You're too kind," he said. "But you still expelled for one week, so you'll have to talk with them about this, and I'll see what we can do after that." he added, and you smiled. “Look at you; they didn’t miss you.”

“You should see the other guys” you joked, and he rolled his eyes. When he unlocked the car, you opened the door, but before you walked to the tower, you looked at him. "Thanks, Clint. You're the best second dad I could dream to have." you said, and you left.

In the car, Clint had tears in the corners of his eyes. He called Laura and told her about what had happened. "She called me her dad." he said, and Laura smiled.

"She's already a big sister for Cooper and Lila, so I'm not really surprised," his wife replied.

In the tower, you talked with Wanda and Pietro, and even if your brother teased you, they promised to never let you feel like you were not enough. They liked you just like you were—with or without power, you were still their baby sister.