#like -it's tony. i call bullshit- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mellowsaturns · 1 year

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in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)

BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER

summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.

warnings: heavy angst, one sided enemies-to-lovers-ish, hydra!assassin!reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending, brainwashing, trauma, guns & knives, fighting, implied kidnapping of reader when young, all the feels, misunderstandings, poor attempt at writing action

wc: 4.7k

a/n: sorry it’s been forever but i hope my fellow buckyluvrs are still here <3 i actually wrote this a long time ago but never got around to editing until recently so i guess you can say this is (from the vault) ? inspired by the idea: what-if there was another winter soldier and bucky finds himself in steve’s position this time trying to get you back to him. anyways, i hope you enjoy this one :)

Bucky’s life was a never ending montage of gunfire and bloodshed. It didn’t matter if he was under the clutches of someone else, he still lived through the wars—the lingering smell of smoke and tang of metallic forever ingrained in his senses.

And just when he thought it was finally over—a glimmer of peace at last—it comes and steals that dream away from him.

Like deja-vu, he’s looking at faces that were once responsible for his pain.

On the screen, three Hydra officers stare back at him. All faces identified by Tony’s system. Alive. Last seen in the outskirts of some small country in Europe. Irrelevant low ranking officials that had managed to survive the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and have been hiding and secretly continuing Hydra’s mission underground ever since. Low officials or not, it was one too many.

Bucky freezes in his spot when Tony swipes the screen. The billionaire goes on a rant saying this particular face cannot be identified, which was according to Tony, bullshit because his face recognition system is the best in the world. The rest of the team is arguing and flipping through countless files and internet archives. But Bucky knows. He knows that face and those haunting eyes that he still sees in his dreams.

“Buck,” a voice calls out. “You know her, don’t you?”

He looks up at Steve from his spot, his best friend's face worried and all knowing.

One thing about Hydra was that they were always prepared. They had backups and multiple plans ready, or else how would two heads take its place when one was cut off? Unfortunately for the world, Hydra managed to make another deadly assassin, one whose work was so discreet and nimble that even intelligence didn't know they existed.

You were a ghost story that lived in the shadows of the Winter Soldier. You were another one of Hydra’s prize possessions—less known, but just as deadly.

With Steve’s comment, all eyes are now on Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air and he gulps before he confesses, “I wasn’t the only one.”

The room becomes tense. The war that they thought was over suddenly looms over like an unpredicted oncoming storm. “Jesus Christ, Barnes. You couldn’t have informed us about her earlier?” says Tony.

“I thought,” he says, shifting his eyes onto the ground, “I thought she fell with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Bucky couldn’t find you anywhere after he escaped their grasp. After he joined the Avengers, he tried once again secretly using Tony’s technology but it was to no avail—it always ended up being a dead end. And for that, he assumed Hydra had put you out of your misery the day they were caught.

But the face on the screen says otherwise. And suddenly, Bucky feels very guilty.

Steve clears his throat, “Well, they were picked up not too long ago heading north. If we leave now, we might be able to find them and stop them once and for all.”

Everyone looks at each other, debating on his proposal. “What the Captain said. Everybody, suit up. Quinjet leaves in ten,” says Tony.

On the jet, Bucky stares off into space but countless questions run through his mind.

Steve walks over and sits beside him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, voice quiet.

Bucky sighs, “I just… I thought she was gone.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”

He looks up, wondering if he should tell Steve the truth. That he’s not brooding about the fact that he concealed you to them. After a moment, Bucky speaks up. “When we get there, let me handle her. Please.”

Steve didn’t know what kind of history Bucky had with you. But judging from the look his best-friend is giving, it’s more than what Steve could understand or even comprehend but he trusts Bucky and so, he gives him a nod. “She’s all yours.”

After scouting the area and tracing the location to a very hidden underground warehouse in the middle of nowhere, they split up. The warehouse was dark and dusty, surely abandoned, but Bucky knew better—it was their facade behind the most sinister of activities. Through the comms, Natasha announces that she has already taken care of all the troops in the West wing. Moments later, Sam reports that he has eliminated one of the Hydra officers. They wouldn’t last long. Hydra didn’t have much resources or time to rebuild—their current empire was weak, they were no match for the Avengers this time.

The only person Bucky’s truly worried about is you. The fact that he trained you, made you into what you were today already gave him the chills. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he was certain that you were still in that killer mindset that Hydra forced upon you.

Step by step, Bucky walks through the quiet hallway, the echoes of his footsteps the only noise. It’s cold here, he notices, which gives him flashbacks to those days in his dirty cell and the cryostasis chamber. Down a hallway to the next, round a corner and another, there wasn’t a single soul in the eerily Eastern wing.

But he spoke too soon, because seconds later, a garrote wire was around his neck. The swift invisible steps and the perfect pressure that was being used to quickly cut off his air supply was all too familiar. He knows this move, he taught this move. You’re here, and you’re dragging him backwards.

Before all oxygen gets cut off to his brain, he jabs his elbow backwards and hits you hard on the rib which releases the hold you have on him and sends you stumbling back. Bucky takes a moment to regain his breath but you’re on your feet again. He looks at you and for a moment he freezes, then you let out a sinister grin. “Nice to see you again, Soldat,” you taunt, before running towards him.

Bucky’s deflecting your punches one after another. Maybe he’s glad he was the one who taught you everything you know because your moves were predictable—if it were another person, there is no doubt they would’ve been on the ground with multiple concussions bleeding out already. You’re ruthless when you do a triple roundhouse kick on him. On the fourth one, he manages to catch your leg and twists it, sending you to the ground with a groan.

How familiar this scene was, Bucky thinks.

Some forty-years ago, Hydra brought a woman into the training room. There was no further instruction than to train you and that’s what he did. He could tell you were well trained already—compliant and pliable. You were good. And you were just like him, injected with a serum that made you a hundred times more efficient and stronger. In just under a year, Hydra would start sending you on missions. Sometimes with him, sometimes alone.

During training, the both of you would spar for hours, leaving each other bloody and bruised, but it didn’t matter to the overlookers, the both of you would heal in a few hours anyways.

Once you pick yourself back up, he pulls a gun out on you. “Stop this,” he commands.

You smirk, “You going to shoot me, Soldat? I want to see you try.”

He clenches his jaw. You continue to look at him, a dark look on your face that shows no sign of true recognition.

His thoughts are disrupted when you tackle him onto the ground. You kick his gun away and pin his arms down as you straddle him. “I’m going to kill you,” you declare, “I’m going to put a bullet through your head.”

When he looks up at you, your eyes are full of rage. Bucky doesn’t know whether that’s the brainwashed version of you talking or the actual you talking—maybe both.

“What are you going to do after you kill me?” he says, irritated. C’mon, please recognize me. “This is all that remains of Hydra. Half the troops are already dead. One of your new leaders is dead. In a few hours, Hydra will be no more. What will you do after that? What are you going to do after you kill me?”

“What does it matter? You’re my mission. I’m going to finish it.”

He groans at your stubbornness that was identical to his Soldier persona.

He says your name slowly. “Get off. You can walk away from this.”

You frown, but he continues, “I know how you feel. You’re feeling helpless.” He clears his throat, “There’s someone behind this version of you. I want to talk to her.”

“What are you talking about?” you utter in annoyance. “Stop stalling.”

He says that name again, with calamity and care. You want to rip out his tongue.

“Let me talk to her. Please.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” you shout, grabbing for the gun that’s strapped onto your waist. “Stop talkin–”

“I was in the cell next to yours. You liked the colour green. You were wearing white when we first met. You always wanted to visit Bucharest. You hated the leaky cold showers in the Siberian facility,” he rambles, trying to remember every single thing about you in a desperate attempt to get your attention so this version of you won’t shoot him in the face.

And for a moment, it works because your hand freezes on the grip of your gun. He takes that moment to flip you over, so you’re under him now, hands pinned above your head. He takes your gun and throws it behind him.

You snarl at him while trying to escape his grasp. “I know you’re under there,” he says. “Please, come through. Please talk to me.”

Your face scrunches in pain, not from him—he would never hurt you—but from the mental warfare that’s currently going on in your mind. You close your eyes as he speaks again. “Listen to my voice, you know me, don’t you? мой милая.”

My darling.

For a moment, your entire body tenses up and then you let out a painful breath. When your eyelids start to flutter open, he finally sees the eyes he came to know and rely on—eyes he came to love.

The both of you are looking at each other unblinking. A scene neither of you expected but always dreamt about.

You break the silence with a whisper of, “James?”

Bucky slowly nods at your disbelief. Finally, he thinks. But such respite doesn’t last long, because seconds later, you hook your foot under his and flip him over and escape his grasp.

There's darkness in your eyes and he can tell that the Soldate is back and the fighting resumes.

You’re chasing him down the twisting hallway and when you catch up, you grab his shoulder and throw a punch to his jaw. He stumbles back and then a voice comes through the comms.

“Just took down the second one.” Steve. “Bucky, how are you holding up? You’ve been quiet ever since we split up.”

He’s trying his best to block your hand, which now has a damn pocket knife. Your quick movements are starting to tire him out. Maybe he taught you too well, he thinks.

“Buck? Bucky. Confirm your status, right now.”

Groaning in frustration, he taps his earpiece. “I’m fine,” he grunts. A second later, “Shit!” he huffs out as you nearly slice his face.

“You don’t sound fine. Is she with you? I’m sending back up.”

“No!” he says, “Don’t send anyone. I can handle her.”

In truth, he’s struggling right now—your stamina has always been better than his—but he’s worried that you’re going to accidentally get hurt and even more agitated when people appear. His main priority was keeping you safe. Fuck the mission statement they talked about back on the Quinjet.

You’re angry—no, you’re extremely angry at him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell. It’s a mixture of pure rage from both the brainwashed and actual you.

He supposed he deserved it. You should be angry. Because for the longest time, it was you and him.

Other than turning you into a ruthless assassin just like him, an unexpected companionship also formed during those hazy in-between moments when the two of you weren’t frozen or on the metal chair getting fried by those machines—during the times when he was just Bucky and you were just you, two unfortunate innocent souls that shared the same suffering.

They weren’t pleasant moments. It was dehumanising. It was getting shoved into draughty cells with nothing but a blanket until it was time to train or time to embark on a mission. Luckily, your cells were next to each other and it made the endless nights a little more bearable. He was a little off-putting at first, but when he yelled at you to stop crying because they would torture you even more for it, you knew he meant well.

During your shared time together, glimpses of your true selves would seldom come up and you would tell each other about the little bits and pieces of a life once known. And the both of you would hold onto each other's memories and stories in case the other forgets.

And whenever they prep the two of you for the chamber due to there being no current missions for the time being, the two of you would look at each other—a look of longing with the secret squeezing of each other's hand before going under.

Despite the absolute awful situation the two of you were in at the time, the both of you were hopeful for the next shared moments together. Because even when all hope was gone, you had each other. And that was good enough for the two of you.

He misses you. So damn much.

“Shut up,” you mutter.

He didn’t even realise he said it outloud. “Well, I do,” he admits, his back hitting a wall.

“You talk too much, Soldat,” you say, creeping up on him. “I ought to cut your throat.”

“I’m sorry I left you with them.”

You halt in your steps and your jaw ticks. In a second, you pounce on him, your knife against his throat. He’s gripping your hand to stop you from continuing your job.

He says your name again. You’re pushing but he’s pushing back just as hard. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “I’m so sorry.”

The desperation in his voice… You glance up at him slowly and he sees the pink forming in your eyes and your trembling lips. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?” you whisper.

He sees the internal war behind your eyes once again. Bucky gulps for a moment before letting go of your hand, trusting that you won’t do any actual harm, and moves his hands so he’s cupping your face, firm enough so you’re forced to look at him. You look into his eyes for a second, then a minute, and for a moment, everything stops. Your breath hitches, because those eyes… those arctic blues… you know them. You fell in love with them many years ago.

A realisation washes over your face, one that Bucky doesn’t miss. You’re back.

The first tear falls. Then the second. “Bucky.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.

You let out a small cry before you press the blade harder against his neck, your grip a vice from his betrayal. He could feel the sharp cold metal pierce through his skin ever so slightly, but he doesn’t try and stop you.

“Give me a reason to not kill you right now,” you grit through tears. “You left me. You left me behind to rot alone. You promised me. You fucking promised,” you say, voice laced with venom and so much hurt.

Bucky’s heart breaks at the sadness of your voice. Because he did promise. There wasn’t much to do in the cells other than throw around false hope. But whenever he told you he was going to escape one day and that he was going to take you with him—it didn’t feel like false promises at all because it wasn’t, and you knew it too.

Until he broke that promise and left you all alone.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with them.”

“I waited for you,” you cry. “Day and night I waited for you to come back. Even when they relocated, I waited for you because I knew you’d find me.”

You remember that day clearly. Everyone was in a frenzy when the death of Alexander Pierce broke out and that they could not locate the Soldat. For a moment, you could taste your own freedom because government officials would come anytime now and finally arrest all these criminals. But right when they came, a few Hydra officers managed to escape and took you with them, and when you woke up, you didn’t know where the hell you were. But even then you didn’t lose hope because James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the name you committed to memory, was going to come for you just like he promised.

Until days, months, and eventually, a year came with no sign of him.

You were angry at first, but it slowly turned into worry because what if something bad had happened to him? But what do you know? You were stuck in this building and only went out whenever they spoke those trigger words to you. And you were always under their watchful eyes, giving you no chance to even attempt an escape. Surely he would never break his promise to you so something must’ve happened to him, you told yourself multiple times.

But he was standing here right in front of you. Alive. We’re under attack, your handler said to you moments ago, Kill the Soldat before he kills you.

“You’re a liar. You never cared about me,” you hiss.

Sometimes, it got too much. But whenever reality was a bit too hard to endure, Bucky was there, always reaching his hand out to you through the metal cage, which you took and held tight. And it meant the world to you, that someone cared.

“All those moments, did it even mean anything to you?”

He uses this opportunity to pull your arms down slightly, knife finally away from his neck and his eyes start to sting from his own tears. “They meant everything to me. I care about you.”

You look up at him with a defeated expression and Bucky never wanted to punch himself in the face more. “Then why? Why didn’t you come back for me?”

“I did,” he chokes out. “When I escaped, the first thing I did was go back for you, but the facility had already been raided and there was no one there. I checked every inch of the building.”

Bucky had never felt so scared, because what if the government took you too? They would never understand—framing you as a villain even though that was far from the truth. But there was no news of your capture, so with a breath of relief, Bucky continued to look through other known Hydra facilities.

“I tried my best looking for you, but I also had to be careful because I was a wanted man at the time. When months passed by and there were no clues, I thought that maybe you had escaped. I was in Bucharest waiting for you. Remember how you said you always wanted to go there? I knew that if you escaped, you’d find me there. Even when you didn’t show, I never gave up. Steve… I think I told you about him once—he found me, he helped me and cleared my name. After that, I still searched for you but it all ended up being dead ends. And…” he pauses for a moment, “and so I thought you were dead. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”

He had mourned you and blamed himself endlessly for it.

He knows he should’ve asked for help, but instead, he took this task upon himself until it got too much—because that was the one thing he struggled with the most, asking for help.

When his side of the story finally comes to light, you break into a sob. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, “but please, drop the weapon and let me help you.”

You swallow hard at his confession. He never stopped looking for you. You didn’t even consider how hard it must’ve been for him after everything and yet you’re lashing out on him.

“How are you going to help me?” you say. “I’m a mess. All you have to do is say those words and I turn into a weapon.”

Twelve. Ember. Fragment. Nine. Academy. Order. Frigid. Yearning. Blue.

Those were your trigger words.

“I got you out of your trance, didn’t I?” he says with a gentle smile.

Hydra needed you to rebuild their empire and they relied on those nine words to do so. To them, those nine words were your greatest weakness but one of them, the last one, the one they liked to spit out in vexation, was also your greatest strength—your salvation.

Blue.

You think back, moments prior, when all he had to do was use his voice and all you had to do was look into the blues of his eyes. Hydra can repeat those words all they want, but Bucky would always be able to bring you back.

At that, your grip relaxes and the knife finally drops onto the floor, it’s noise ricocheting off the walls.

“There’s a place called Wakanda and I know someone there who can help you. Her name’s Ayo and she’s amazing. She helped me overcome my words.”

He brings his hands back up to cradle your face and you shutter at the familiar touch—at the calluses on his palms. “And I think you’ll like it there. It’s quiet and there’s so much… green.”

You let out a small laugh through your tears but doubt still fills your mind. “But… all the things I did,” you whimper, “I did such terrible unforgivable things. There’s… there’s so much blood on my hands.”

Sadness flares around his heart. It was all so familiar. He knows the feeling.

“It’s not going to be easy. God knows how long it took for me to believe that none of it was my fault. But let me be the first one to tell you,” he says, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “None of what you did was your fault. You were a victim.” He swallows a deep breath, “There are going to be days where it’ll be too much too bear and there are going to be nights where all those casualties will haunt you,” he admits. “But… but you’ll get there. Someday, you’ll learn to stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.”

And he vows that he’ll help you every step of the way.

You breathe out slowly, digesting all his words. “You can trust me,” he tells you, “I won’t let you down this time. I’ll be here.”

Blinking up at him, the small hesitant part of you so desperately wanted to say, “How can I trust you?” but his eyes were telling you everything you needed to know. Because it was filled with nothing but honour and truth.

He breaks away from you and reaches out his hand. An invitation. You stare at it for a while, then you slowly lift yours and brush your fingers amongst his before grabbing it tightly—a truce of sorts, a promise. He squeezes back in return, a loving smile on his face, just like all those nights many moonlights ago.

Your breath hitches when he pulls you into his embrace, your face burying perfectly into the valley of his chest. He wraps his arms around you in urgency, in fear, almost afraid you’ll slip out if he doesn’t.

“It’s over,” he mumbles into your hair.

Because two floors down an explosion erupts, finishing off the last remaining garrison of troops. Three hallways down, Natasha sets fire to a room that contained the other small red leather book that held those nine suffocating words written in Russian. Outside, the last Hydra officer attempting to flee falls to his knees from an arrow to the chest. And the only hope they had left to rebuild their regime was safely in Bucky’s arms.

He pulls away and uses his thumb to rub gently across your cheek, “It’s over. The war is finally over.”

Now that the worst is over, Bucky’s hopeful. There will be other conflicts to come, that was just how it worked, but this one, the one that held you and him underwater for years was finally over. War always took too much, but this time, it gave something back. Because among the ashes and ruins you came back to him, no more oceans in between.

“What do we do now?” you press nervously. You were taken at a young age and spent years in the Red Room before you were sold off to Hydra. Like Bucky, you’re in the wrong time period, there’s no one to go back to.

There’s so many things you could do, Bucky thinks. You can finally start living the life you deserved, the life that was taken from you too early. He’ll have to explain all this to his teammates but he knows they’ll understand. They treated him so well, there’s no doubt they’ll show the same kindness for you. Then, he’ll go with you to Wakanda, get rid of the words, maybe stay there for a while so you could heal—maybe show you the goats he took care of during his time there.

You’ll probably adjust to the 21st century better than him—you won’t need to start off with a flip phone, that’s for sure. He’ll make you listen to all the great records and watch all the movies you missed out on. There’s so many things he wanted to do with you. He knows you have no memories, no recollection. It didn’t matter, Bucky thinks, he would make new memories with you, ones worth cherishing and remembering. If you’ll have him, of course.

But first and most importantly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about it,” he says, rubbing the grime off your nose.

He grabs your hand and heads for the exit. But before he does, you pick up your knife from the floor and in one quick motion, you spin around and throw it. The knife embeds itself into the wall a few metres away, right next to a prying face. You stand in front of Bucky and stare at the intruder with a murderous gaze and Bucky’s heart races at the thought of you still wanting to protect him after everything.

The blond raises his arms up in surrender.

“Steve,” Bucky says from behind and you briefly recognize that name. You turn around to look at him and he meets your eyes, nodding. You relax your stance.

“Hi,” Steve says, voice slightly hoarse. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

Bucky scoffs at him, as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.

Steve looks at the both of you, then a gentle smile adorns his face. “C’mon, the rest are waiting outside for you both.”

You step forward. This is it. Freedom. A new life. Bucky notices your hesitation as you suddenly stop in your tracks. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes with reassurance. You take a deep breath, then the two of you follow Steve to the exit, leaving behind the smoke and memories of your old life.

Outside, the sun comes up slowly but surely on the horizon, painting the awakening sky a gentle warm hue of oranges and pinks.

A new beginning awaits.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky #bucky barnes

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cinnabunwanda · 5 months

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We shouldn't be doing this ･｡ﾟNatasha Ramnoff

content warning — Smut, Shower Sex, Degration Kink, Mommy Kink, Angst

pairing — Fem Reader X Natasha Romanoff

summary — Steve, an avenger, faces tension with his girlfriend Natasha at a shindig. Wanda suggests they make a great couple, but the protagonist refuses. Natasha admires their friendship, asks to fuck him, and makes him feel vulnerable.

word count — 6.0k

Life as an avenger was a constant rollercoaster of danger and responsibility. One day, we could be on the hunt for an Alien threatening to destroy the world, and the next we could be in a high-level meeting discussing how to utilize our powers and resources for the good of humanity.

But even superheroes needed a break, and when we did get some time off, the team liked to spend it together. Tonight was one of those rare occasions.

"What's on the agenda tonight?" I asked Tony, always the mastermind behind our group outings.

"Well, my dear comrades, I have decided to throw a little shindig for us. Drinks, dancing, games...the whole nine yards," he grinned mischievously at all of us.

"The crew? Are you twelve years old?" Bucky teased him.

"Hey now, don't be boosting his ego too much. He's ancient," Sam chimed in with a sly smile.

"Says the man born in the 20s," Tony retorted playfully.

"Well, if Nat's going then count me in," I declared, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

"Actually, Nat won't be joining us tonight. We have a date," Steve announced proudly, looking at his girlfriend with adoration in his eyes.

Natasha looked back at him with confusion written all over her face. Clearly, she had no idea about this so-called date Steve had planned.

Tony shot me a look that said "uh-oh, trouble." I couldn't help but stifle a laugh at his expression, but when everyone turned to look at me, I quickly diverted my attention to my water bottle.

"Nat is a grown woman capable of making her own decisions," I spoke up honestly after disposing of my empty bottle.

I was sick and tired of Steve treating Natasha like he owned her. She was my best friend and under no one's spell. I couldn't understand what she saw in him, especially since they were always bickering, but I admired her for standing up to him. His mind was still stuck in the 20s.

"Stay out of my relationship," Steve snapped at me, his tone harsh and accusatory.

"Don't talk to her like that!" Natasha slammed her hands on the table, her voice filled with frustration.

"What did you just say?" Steve's anger was evident in his eyes.

"You heard me. Don't. Talk. To. Her. Like. That," Natasha spat back at him.

And so it began, another argument between the two of them. Tony, Bucky, and Sam quickly made their escape, and I attempted to do the same, but Natasha called out my name, causing me to pause and turn back towards them.

"Why do you always drag her into our problems? Leave her out of this," Steve shouted at Natasha.

"I'll involve whoever I want to. You don't own me, Steve. I'm sick of this bullshit," Natasha shot back fiercely.

I wanted nothing more than to leave and take a nice hot shower to escape the tension in the room. I speed-walked down the hallway but bumped into Wanda along the way. She smiled sympathetically at me before glancing down the hallway where we could still hear Nat and Steve going at it.

"They're fighting again? What happened now?" Wanda asked in disbelief.

"I know, can you believe it's already the fourth time today? Tony was planning a team get-together and Nat said she would go, but then Steve said she couldn't, and well...you can hear how that turned out," I explained, nodding my head towards the source of the commotion down the hall.

Wanda sighed and shook her head in exasperation before turning back to face me.

"You and Nat would make a great couple, you know," she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Excuse me? Me and Nat? No way. She's Nat, and besides, she's my best friend," I laughed off the suggestion.

"Y/n, your thoughts are too loud to hide from me. Just something to think about," Wanda said with a knowing smile before walking away.

As I continued on my way to the shower, I couldn't help but wonder if Wanda was right. Maybe there was more to my feelings for Natasha than just friendship. But for now, all I wanted was a peaceful evening without any drama or arguments.

As I walked away from her, a thin smile graced my lips in response to her comment about my secrets. With each step, the sound of my feet hitting the ground echoed through the hallway. Suddenly, I heard her voice ring out behind me.

"I KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT EVERYONE, DON'T WORRY!" she shouted after me.

Ignoring her, I sent her a defiant middle finger and continued on my way to my room. Once inside, I quickly gathered all of my shower essentials and headed into the bathroom. Stripping off my clothes and tossing them carelessly into a corner, I was interrupted by the sudden intrusion of someone barging into my room.

"Ugh, this better be important. I'm about to take a shower," I called out irritably.

To my surprise, it was Natasha standing in front of me with a weight seemingly lifted off her shoulders. Concerned, I wrapped a towel around my body and stepped out into my room to face her.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked gently.

Without hesitation, she scanned me up and down with clear admiration in her eyes. Our friendship had always been like this - playful flirtation and pretending to be each other's girlfriends to ward off unwanted advances from guys.

"Eyes up here, Romanoff," I warned as her gaze lingered on my chest.

"Kiss me," she stated bluntly.

I hesitated for a moment, knowing that she had a boyfriend and not wanting to complicate things between us.

"Nat...as much as I would love for you to...you know...fuck me...you have a boyfriend and I don't want to-"

"Y/n, listen. Steve and I aren't together anymore. So please just let me fuck you until you can't walk," she said earnestly, looking directly into my eyes.

I couldn't help but feel conflicted as she leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. They were just as soft and inviting as I remembered, and I couldn't resist kissing her back. Lost in the moment, we stumbled towards the bathroom, our hands desperately tugging at each other's clothes.

Once inside, Natasha pulled away from me with a mischievous smirk on her face.

"Let's get rid of these," she said playfully, gesturing to my towel.

"I like them where they are," I teased back, unable to take my eyes off of her.

"Baby, I thought you wanted me to fuck you," she pouted, running her fingers along my jawline.

"I do," I whined, feeling more turned on by the second.

"Well then, let's remove this obstacle," she whispered seductively before nibbling on my ear as she tugged on my towel.

"Mmmh, I think you're right, Natty," I replied breathlessly.

In one swift motion, she pulled down my towel so that I was standing fully naked in front of her. Her eyes roamed over my body with hunger and desire, making me feel small and vulnerable under her intense gaze.

"You are going to be so much fun," she murmured, tracing her finger lightly over my chest before pushing me into the shower.

As the warm water cascaded over my body, I couldn't help but let out a slight moan. Natasha stepped in behind me and pressed her body against mine, her lips crashing onto mine once again. As our tongues tangled and hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, I couldn't believe what was happening. And as she pinned me against the wall of the shower and continued to ravish me with kisses and touches, I knew that this would be a night to remember.

The hot steamy shower added so much passion into our little hookup. It made everything way more hotter than normal. The way Natasha's red hair looked as the water trickled down her body was a sight I will never forget.

She placed her hands on my thighs and tapped on them. She picked me up and I wrapped myself around her waist. I began to try and grind myself to try get some sort of friction which worked for a minute as I grinded myself on her abs but when she realised what I was doing she stopped me

"Such a desperate little whore aren't you? Look at you so pathetic trying to get yourself off by using my abs" she degraded me

I could feel myself get wet at her choice of words. I was dumbfounded and my moth couldn't even form words.

"You like that? You like it when I call you a whore baby?" She smiled evilly at me

There definitely was a pool between my legs at this point. She kept staring into my eyes when she spoke to me which made it harder to keep eye contact when she was saying these hypnotising things

"Answer me slut" she snarled

"Ye-yes mommy I do" I replied with a smirk once I pulled myself together

She wore her famous smirk on her face as she stared into my eyes. "Mommy? God I love that" she smirked

She began to attack my body with kisses. Sucking,biting and leaving marks all along my neck,chest shoulders you name it she marked it. She slammed us against the wall and I slowly got off her waist moaning quietly at her marking my body

She placed her knee between my thighs so my pussy was resting on her knee. She pushed it up hard causing me to moan loudly and my moan echoed around the room I quickly covered my mouth but Nat grabbed my wrist and removed my hand from my mouth

"I want to hear those pretty moans, go on scream shout let everyone know that Starks golden child is being fucked by the black widow" she said with lust in her eyes and voice

She gripped both of her hands on my waist and began to harshly push my hips into her knee. The pleasure shot through my body sending shivers down my spine.

"GOD NAT" I moaned loudly

She smirked wildly at me and began to slow down. Which was horrible I needed a release the knot that once was in my stomach had disappeared. My head was resting on Natasha's shoulder.

"Ple-please Nat I NEED you" i panted

"What, you have me what more could you want" she slowed down even more

"Mommy please your killing me" I breathed out

"Such a little slut aren't we? Be a good girl and beg for it" she instructed me

"Please please mommy let me finish all over your knee, I will be a good girl-please mommy" I begged

"Go on get yourself off I want to watch you" she smirked at me

She let go of my hips and I began to grind myself down onto her knee. It felt so good, moans began to fall out of my mouth. I picked up the paste and I could feel my tits bouncing as I moved up and down on her. I had my eyes shut and I threw my head back in pleasure when she flexed her leg.

I opened my eyes and seen Natasha was fingering herself. God it was hot. I shoved 3 of my fingers in her and she moaned

"YES Y/N RIGHT THERE" I picked up the pace

I could feel the knot in my stomach again. I was so close. I could tell Natasha was too by the way she was pulsing on my fingers.

"I'm so close mommy" I moaned

Natasha's moans echoed through the bathroom as I thrust a fourth finger inside of her without warning. Her legs flexed and she threw her head back, lost in pleasure. I quickened my pace, my body on the verge of climaxing.

"PLEASE NAT, I CAN'T HOLD IT!" I cried out, overcome with desire. "Cum on me," she moaned in response.

The sound of our passionate encounter filled the small bathroom, but in that moment, we didn't care who could hear us. My fingers continued to move inside of Natasha as she reached her peak, her release coating my hand.

We collapsed against each other, panting and exhausted. I rested my head against her neck and she nestled hers into mine, peppering light kisses along my skin.

"Holy- fuck," she panted between breaths. "That was...the best shower of my life."

I breathed out a laugh and nodded in agreement. But just as we were starting to relax and catch our breath, Natasha reminded me that we had plans for the evening.

"We should get ready for tonight. That is, if you're still going..." I told her hesitantly.

"Y/n, if you're going, I am going," she said with a smile.

I bit my lip nervously and flashed a shy smile in return. We exited the shower and wrapped towels around our bodies before parting ways to get dressed. As I put on my favorite red dress, revealing just enough cleavage to make it daring yet elegant, Wanda burst into my room with excitement.

"Oh my God!" she squealed. "Natasha and Steve broke up!"

My acting skills came into play as I pretended to be shocked and happy by this news. Wanda bought it completely.

"No way! Really? You're not joking with me?" I exclaimed.

"I wouldn't do that to you!" She laughed. "How did you find out?"

"I overheard Steve telling Bucky," she informed me.

"I thought Natasha and I were the spies here, not you witchy," I teased her.

"That's not the only thing you and Natasha are," she smirked.

"What are we, Wanda?" I turned to face her.

"Each other's future wives," she smirked again.

I rolled my eyes playfully while trying to hide my blush. But Wanda was right, there was definitely something special between Natasha and me.

"You look beautiful, by the way. Is that for Vision?" I joked with a wink.

"Shut up, I can dress up for myself, you know!" Wanda shook her head in mock annoyance.

"Mmhm, yeah, but that dress is new and I know you wouldn't wear it unless you were planning to impress him," I teased as we linked arms and made our way down the hallway.

"Well, I could say the same. We both know a certain spy's favorite color is red," Wanda joked back as we walked.

"But how do you know I'm not trying to impress you? Your favorite color is red too," I responded with a sly smile.

"Well, if that's the case..." she smiled mischievously and we both burst out laughing.

As we entered the main room, still giggling about our love lives, we noticed that it was practically empty except for Tony, Maria, Steve, Vision, and Natasha.

"Well, isn't this quite the party," Wanda quipped at Tony as we approached the small group.

My laughter echoed through the spacious room as I stood with Wanda, trying to decide who to talk to first. There were so many people to choose from in this tower, and we were all gathered here for some unknown reason. "You two give it up," Tony commented, rolling his eyes. "People are coming, unlike you two. Some of us have lives outside of this tower." Maria smirked at me, her gaze lingering on my face. "Well, Y/n certainly does," she said suggestively. "What are you on about, Ms. Hill?" Vision asked curiously. "From the looks of it, Y/n has had some fun recently," Maria grinned, gesturing towards my neck.

Suddenly, everyone's attention turned to me. What was Maria talking about? Wanda slapped my arm playfully. "Miss Y/L/N! What is that on your neck?" she gasped. "It appears to be a hickey, I believe," Vision stated loudly. "WHO HAS A HICKEY?!" Sam's voice boomed as he and the rest of the group descended down the stairs. "Y/N!" Maria exclaimed, causing everyone to focus their attention on me.

I blushed furiously as they began to bombard me with questions. "When did this happen?" Bucky smirked mischievously. "Doesn't matter, it's none of anyone's business," I replied coolly as I sat down on the couch and grabbed a beer from the cooler.

"Okay, so it had to be recently, like in the last 2-3 days," Carol calculated, her eyes scanning my appearance. Tony looked disgusted while Bruce seemed uncomfortable and kept shifting in his seat.

"But Y/n doesn't leave the compound," Wanda announced defensively. "I do too!" I defended myself, feeling slightly hurt by their disbelief.

"I mean, she clearly does," Rhodes pointed at my neck accusingly. "Can we stop talking about this?" I asked, feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable.

"Yeah, please, can we?" Tony pleaded, looking like he was about to have a heart attack. "But-" Vision started to say.

"Yes, Vis?" Wanda interrupted him. "If Y/n went out and had intercourse with another person...well, that's impossible," Vision stated matter-of-factly.

"How is it impossible?" I asked, confused by his statement. "You haven't left the compound in 4 days apart from that mission, and unless you slept with someone from Hydra 4 days ago, plus the fact that those hickeys look somewhat fresh...it's impossible that you had intercourse elsewhere...plus-" Vision was suddenly cut off by a loud outburst from Tony.

"STOP! STOP! THAT'S ENOUGH!" Tony yelled, causing everyone to turn their attention towards him. I could see the shock on Rhodey's face as he exclaimed, "Stark, seriously?! She's half your age!"

My eyes went wide as I realized what they were all hinting at. "Ewww, no! No, we didn't," Tony defended himself quickly.

"Stop it now, please," I begged as I placed my hands over my face in embarrassment.

Tony stood up abruptly and walked over to the bar, while Natasha sat smirking and sipping her beer. Bruce also seemed preoccupied with Nat, which wasn't unusual since they were close friends. "Wait, so Y/n brought someone to her room and slept with them?" Carol looked around at the group.

"It isn't anyone here," I said quickly, trying to deflect the attention away from myself.

"I'm going to join Tony at the bar," Bruce announced suddenly, trying to make a quick escape. But Carol and Maria stopped him. "You know something, Brucey. What is it?" Maria interrogated him.

"Leave the poor guy alone," Nat defended him, giving Bruce a reassuring glance.

"Come on, aren't you dying to find out who she slept with?" Carol asked Nat eagerly.

"Of course I am, but we all know Mr. Anger over here gets uncomfortable easily," Nat teased back, causing Maria and Wanda to laugh.

"Oh, Witchy Witchy," Maria smirked at Wanda, who responded with an equally mischievous grin as she slowly walked over to Bruce.

I could see the worry in Bruce's eyes as he sent a quick glance my way. Fuck, he must have overheard something. I gave him a questioning look, hoping he knew something that could explain this situation. He looked away, his expression filled with concern. Damn, he definitely heard something.

With a sudden burst of energy, Sam practically leapt 6 feet in the air, exclaiming, "HE KNOWS WHO IT IS!"

"NO- GUYS I DONT," he quickly defended himself as everyone turned to look at him.

"DO IT NOW WANDA," Bucky smirked at her, urging her to reveal the identity.

I glanced at Nat and Bucky, who were sitting closely beside each other. Dread filled me as I realized that soon everyone would know.

"Guys, who actually cares who she slept with?" Steve groaned, clearly annoyed by the situation.

"Everyone apparently," Nat shot back, glaring at him. "Well Tony doesn't, nor do I," he began to walk away.

"Well you would care," Bruce murmured quietly under his breath.

"What was that Brucey?" Wanda smirked playfully. "Hmmmmm?" He acted dumb, but we all knew what he had said.

"Let him go guys please, this is embarrassing for me. It's my life, not yours," I pleaded with them, trying to diffuse the tension.

But my efforts were in vain as Wanda's smirk grew wider and red wisps of energy emanated from her hands. She was reading Bruce's mind. Suddenly, she gasped and Bruce quickly ran to Tony, apologizing frantically.

"I'M SO SORRY Y/N!" he shouted over his shoulder as he rushed away.

"OH MY GOD," Wanda smirked at me, her eyes glinting mischievously. "WHO IS IT?"

"WITCHY TELL US!" Maria exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement.

Wanda paused for a moment before announcing with a sly smile, "It's someone in this room."

The group erupted into a frenzy of questions, desperate to uncover the truth. Maria gasped in shock while Carol couldn't hide her curiosity.

"Okay, who was getting it on with Y/n?" Sam's wide smirk displayed his eagerness to know.

"It could be a girl," Natasha pretended it wasn't her and shrugged nonchalantly.

"That's funny," Steve commented, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

"So what if it is a girl, Steve? It's my body, not yours," I deflected his judgmental comment.

"Well, it's wrong," he argued back, causing me to roll my eyes in frustration.

"Wanda..." Maria turned to her, hoping she would reveal more information.

I gave Wanda a pleading look, but she shook her head at me. Little witch.

"I'll give you all a hint: their favorite color is red," Wanda began, enjoying the power she held over everyone's thoughts.

"Okay, so that rules out Sam and Nat. Plus, we already established that it isn't Tony or Natasha," Maria listed off potential suspects in the room.

Vision looked relieved at being cleared as a suspect, and I couldn't help but find it cute in that moment. But then reality hit once again.

"Okay, to cut ties. Sam had no clue, so that's him out," Clint suggested logically. "And let's be real, we all know he wouldn't be able to pull Y/n anyway."

Sam was highly offended by this insinuation and tried to argue his case, but I quickly shut him down. Natasha smirked at me for turning him down while the rest of the group joined in on teasing him.

"Well then that leaves two possibilities: Bucky's exes Nat and Steve," Bucky stated matter-of-factly. My heart sank at the thought of either of them being involved.

Steve was busy chatting with Tony and Bruce at the bar, completely unaware of the conversation happening right next to them.

"Well, it has to be one of them. Maybe they used Y/n as a rebound since they just broke up," Carol suggested, causing me to feel even more upset.

"I'm not some lousy one night stand," I interjected, feeling hurt by the words being thrown around.

"Are we correct that it is one of them, Wanda?" Vision asked politely, trying to move the conversation along.

"Yes, you are," she confirmed with a mischievous smirk.

"Well, I could be right then," Carol shrugged her shoulders confidently.

"You really think that?" I asked sadly.

"Well, I mean, it is strange that they broke up and whoever it is ran to you. Maybe they did it as a way to get back at Steve for something," Carol said without thinking.

I sat there in shock as Maria slapped her on the arm for her insensitivity.

"My money is on Steve. He's always had a thing against Y/n and it would make sense if it was an enemies-to-lovers situation," Sam boomed confidently.

"Nah, I think it has to be Nat. If we're going off of what Carol said, she would want to get under Steve's skin by sleeping with his best friend who he dislikes," Thor chimed in with his own theory.

Everyone began agreeing with Thor and even I couldn't help but consider their theories. After all, Nat and Steve were always on-again-off-again. But the thought of either one of them using me as a pawn in their love triangle made my stomach churn.

As I looked at her, my heart ached and tears began to fill my eyes. She was about to say something before she was stopped by Tony's outburst.

"STOP IT! Can't you all see what this is doing to her? Look at her, she is on the verge of tears. You are all making her feel like a piece of shit, like some cheap hooker," Tony defended me passionately.

I looked up and saw Bruce standing next to him, offering his support. Tony protectively placed his hands on my shoulders while Bruce sat beside me, gently placing his hand on my knee in an attempt to comfort me.

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves. We have all gone to Y/n with our secrets at one point or another, and she has never said a word. Is this how you want to repay her? By speaking about her personal life with such lack of empathy?" Bruce's tone was harsh as he scolded the group.

A tear streamed down my face, which I quickly wiped away as everyone's eyes turned to me. I could feel their gaze, but some were shamefully looking at the ground. Without warning, I felt someone wrap their arms around me from behind - it was Natasha.

"Well, I'm telling you now it wasn't me," Wanda spoke up with a smile.

I wrapped my arms around her, taking in her comforting scent. She truly gave the best hugs. As I cried softly into her shoulder, all the hurtful thoughts and accusations that had been swirling in my mind disappeared.

"It's okay, you're okay," she whispered softly to me.

But suddenly, everything came flooding back as I remembered what they had done. "No, please get off of me," I pushed Wanda away and stood up.

Feeling disgusted and betrayed, I walked away from the group. Carol was right; Natasha had used me to get under Steve's skin, and he watched me leave with a smug grin on his face - I could see it from a mile away.

From Natasha's point of view, Y/n had just stormed out of the main hall. As she looked at the rest of the group, they all wore expressions of guilt. Anger rose up in Natasha like never before.

"Baby, did you do this to make me jealous?" Steve approached her.

"Don't fucking call me that," Natasha snapped at him.

"In fact, I don't want any of you to even call me your friend anymore. None of you are my friends after what you did tonight. The only people who I consider friends are Tony and Bruce. The rest of you are just horrible colleagues that I have to put up with," she yelled at them.

"Nat, we're sorry. We didn't think she would..." Wanda started to apologize, but Natasha cut her off.

"Out of all the people, you were the last person I expected to do this to her - to us," Natasha said, disappointment evident in her voice.

"Actually, no, scratch that. I didn't think any of you would be so cruel. But here we are. So since you all are dying to know - YES, I slept with Y/n. And NO, Carol, it wasn't to get back at Steve. It was because I genuinely love her with every piece of my body, and I would die for her. It was the best experience I've ever had because I was with someone who truly cares not only for me but for everyone around her. Y/n would go to hell and back for any one of you. So fuck you all," Natasha stormed out.

She went to her room and slammed the door shut behind her. Frantically changing into her comfortable pajamas, she grabbed Y/n's favorite hoodie which always goes missing when she's away on missions. Determined to fight for her and prove her love, Natasha left her room and went down to find Y/n's room. She had to show her girl that she was willing to go to great lengths for their love.

Your POV

The weight of disappointment and hurt settled heavily on my chest. With a heavy heart, I trudged to my room, eager to shed the facade of happiness that I had worn all day. Taking comfort in soft, loose clothes, I wiped away the thick layer of makeup and let myself succumb to tears.

As I lay in bed, memories of Natasha and the events of the day flooded my mind. How could I have been so naive? Of course she slept with me as a way to get back at Steve. The realization stung like a fresh wound.

But amidst the pain and betrayal, one moment stood out - our encounter in the shower. For a brief moment, she had smiled at me with genuine affection before kissing me again. Was it all just a ploy to manipulate me?

My thoughts spiraled into self-doubt and anger towards my friends, especially Wanda for exposing my vulnerability and feelings for Natasha.

"Why did I trust her?" I cried to myself.

A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts, but I ignored it. Using my powers to lock the door, I refused to let anyone in unless it was Bruce or Tony. But they persisted and eventually picked the lock.

Ready to defend myself with my magic, I sat up on the bed as they entered. To my surprise, it was Natasha who walked in with a gentle expression on her face.

"Did you not hear me? Last time I checked, you're not Tony or Bruce," I sniffled, trying to regain composure.

"I may not have a clean record like them, but I promise you, I'm not here to hurt you," she spoke softly as she approached me.

"Nat, please just go away," I pleaded.

"You'll have to make me if you want that to happen," she challenged with determination in her eyes.

I braced myself, ready to use my powers against her despite my reluctance to do so. But her words and gaze softened me, and I slowly dissipated the energy ball in my hands.

"That's it, Natasha. It's just me," she whispered, sitting at the end of my bed with a familiar hoodie in her hand - my favorite one.

But even the comfort of my cherished item couldn't ease the disgust I felt towards myself. "Giving me this hoodie won't change how I feel about what happened," I told her bitterly.

Her face fell at my harsh words, and for a moment, I regretted lashing out. But I pushed away any guilt and continued, "Why wouldn't I be disgusted? You slept with me to spite Steve, and now everyone sees me as a cheap whore you use when you need a boost."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she asked softly, "Is that how little you think of me?"

I paused, realizing I had let my hurt and anger cloud my judgment. "You're not denying it, so yes, I did think that lowly of you – no, wait, that's not true." My voice cracked with emotion. "I don't want to believe that about you."

"Y/n, listen to me. I didn't sleep with you to get back at Steve. I don't care about his opinion. But I care about yours," she pleaded with sincerity etched on her features.

She gazed into my eyes, her expression filled with sincerity and love. "You're not some cheap hooker or a whore, Y/n. I slept with you because I have real feelings for you. I couldn't resist acting on them the first chance I got," she confessed to me.

I felt a lump form in my throat as her words touched my heart. I was about to respond when she silenced me with a gentle kiss. My body responded instantly, melting into her touch. She pulled away after a few seconds, leaving tears in my eyes.

"Why the tears?" she asked, cupping my face in her hands.

"I'm sorry for what I said earlier, Nat. It wasn't fair of me to judge you like that," I apologized, my voice trembling with emotion.

"Don't worry about that. I'm okay. Let's talk about it and I'll help you through it, if you want me to," she reassured me, rubbing my cheek tenderly.

I couldn't shake off the looks of judgement from everyone at the party. They made me feel dirty and ashamed. I know some of it may have been in my head, but Carol's words really got to me and made sense. I had been suppressing my feelings for Nat for so long, thinking they were wrong and that no one would accept us. But then we shared that moment in the shower and it felt right, until Carol's words brought all my doubts rushing back.

"Fuck it. I'm so in love with you," I blurted out, tears streaming down my face now.

Nat looked at me with so much love in her eyes that it made my heart swell with emotion. I wrapped my arms around her tightly and buried my head in her shoulder while she drew soothing patterns on my back.

"Thank you for listening to me," I mumbled against her.

"Hey, it's what I'm here for," she replied sweetly.

We pulled away and I took the jumper from her lap and put it on. She chuckled at me and I pulled her into my bed, pulling the covers over us. We both decided to keep our relationship private, but not a secret.

"You looked breathtaking tonight," Nat complimented me, her eyes filled with admiration.

"Thank you. The dress was for you," I blushed, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

"But I have to say, you are effortlessly gorgeous," she said with a smile.

"That's not true," I shook my head.

"Yes, it is. Even right now, lying here next to me. You are perfect in every way," I whispered softly.

"I'm not perfect, Y/n. Trust me," she said honestly.

"ты всегда будешь идеальной в моих глазах Наталья Романова," I whispered against her lips, reminding her of how perfect she will always be in my eyes.

She smiled into the kiss and lightly held onto my waist as I gently ran my fingers through her red hair.

"Не важно что," I mumbled against her lips, reaffirming that nothing else mattered to me.

"When did you learn Russian?" she asked with a curious smile.

"I learned it for you a while ago. I'm now fluent," I bragged a little, feeling proud of myself.

"How come you never spoke it before?" she questioned playfully.

"I was learning it to ask you out, but then you started dating Steve and all I knew how to say at the time was 'Natasha Romanoff, will you go out with me?' and 'I love you'," I laughed a little at the memory.

"Stop, please tell me you're lying," she groaned, burying her head into my chest in embarrassment.

"Unfortunately, no. But I continued to learn it so I could say things to you without the team knowing," I smiled softly at her.

Nat's eyes sparkled with love and adoration as she leaned in for another kiss, grateful for our secret language that only we shared.

My heart skipped a beat as her beautiful smile lit up her face. "Wait, you learned how to say 'I love you'?" she asked, looking up at me with shining eyes. "Yeah, it was one of the first things my teacher taught me," I replied, a fond smile tugging at my lips.

"Say it in Russian for me," she requested, her smile growing wider.

"But you already know how to say it in Russian," I said, confused by her request.

"Amuse me," she replied with a playful glint in her eyes.

My heart swelled with adoration as I spoke the words in Russian: "Я люблю вас."

Her smile softened and she echoed the words back to me: "я тоже тебя люблю, Y/N." It felt like an exchange of promises, a declaration of our feelings for each other.

She leaned in and kissed me, and I eagerly returned the gesture. In that moment, as we stood there with our arms wrapped around each other, I knew that I never wanted to be anywhere without her. She had tricked me into saying those three little words, but they were more than just words. They were a reflection of what we both felt deep in our hearts - love.

©Elena do not copy, edit, or translate my works.

#marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #wlw smut #gxg smut #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #bottom natasha romanoff #sub natasha romanoff #top reader #dom reader #x reader

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carmenized-onions · 4 months

Text

I Want To. | Wellness Check

logline; Such is life, you go from not being needed at The Bear today to being more needed than you ever have been.

[!!!] series history, this is the fourth; First, Second, Third

portion; 4.7k+

possible allergies; a dash of Tony's former paramedic background (and just medical shit in general) in this one, so, a sprinkle of post-trauma stress (and her usual yikes psyche). Mikey comes up a bit, as usual! despite the ops, we ball.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (pretty unavoidably gendered episode, mb non-fem folks)

we'll talk after babe, have a good time w/ this one.

Falling asleep was easy— par for Carmen fighting to keep his 6:30 am alarm on. When he finds out you don’t have a plug on his side of the bed and he has to charge his phone on your side, he turns it off. Cute.

Well, there’s also the part where you had to ask if he was okay because it sounded like he wasn’t breathing and it turns out —He was not breathing— He then pointed out that it sounded like you weren’t breathing —You were not breathing— Both of you thought the sound of your lungs would bother the other, so you opted not to use them at all. Turns out, counterproductive; you notice each other’s absences pretty well.

But besides that, it's easy. Carmen isn’t an awful bedfellow. He’s not super shifty, he doesn’t tug the blanket, he doesn’t roll all the fucking way over to your side, or anything like that. He’s honestly concerningly still. Is he annoyed that you’ve gotta toss and turn a little to get comfortable? Probably. He's probably dreaming of you exploding right now, he’s so annoyed. He didn’t make fun of your ages old build-a-bear plush nor it’s Cubs jersey, so that was nice. Pity, probably.

...If Carmen wasn’t here, he knows he’d be stirring and kicking and probably sleep-walking to his oven to light it on fire. But he is here. Where kicking would hurt. Where stirring would wake you. Where a fire would cause more anxiety than relief because all your plants and projects would die. Where you washed his hair and told him that taking care of people doesn’t feel like a lot of work to you. Was it not a lot of work, to take care of his brother? Was it worth it, to you? Probably not. How could it be?

He wills his body to not fucking move because if he does it's going to ruin everything. He's going to ruin everything.

He wakes up at 6:30 on the dot, alarm or no. He’d be concerned if his body functioned any differently. But he can’t get to his phone while you’re sleeping in his way and you’re so comfortable. You’re clutching a bear that’s undeniably on a losing team and you’re at peace with it. He’s trying not to make a metaphor out of this in his mind; alas, it’s already there. The only thing he can do is go back to sleep and dream about killing the teenage boy in his head before he can escape again and call you pretty.

It's around ten when you wake up, you try not to wake him when you turn to grab your phone, but the split second of motion makes him flinch like he’s about to get jumped. “Relax!” You hiss, but like, soft, whispered. “I’m doin’ the fuckin’ Wordle, not smothering you with a pillow.”

“You do the Wordle?”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“The first fuckin’ thing you do in the morning is the Wordle?”

“And I do the Crossword too, bitch, what of it?”

“…I like Connections.”

“I fuckin' hate Connections.”

“Alright, damn!”

The Chicago accent in both of you is stronger in your rasping morning voices. As is the laughter. You roll onto your stomach to get closer to him and let him see your screen. Neither of you have entirely woken up yet and that means it’s the perfect time to do a puzzle. If you don't focus on this puzzle right now, you fear you will get too comfortable in this idea of domesticity.

“C’s in the right place. Nothin’ else though.”

He’s the one that figures out its Cumin. You pretend not to be mad about this. You’re furious. Of course, it’d be a spice on the day Mr Food Guy sleeps over. Bullshit.

When you finally sit up, stretch, and say, “I’m just gonna shower real quick ‘nd—”

He’s at a breakneck speed to reply, “I’ll make breakfast.”

“Oh, you cook all the fuckin’ time, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

You blink, then shrug, the man likes to cook, c’est la vie. “Who am I to refuse?”

He looks far too happy about this, as though he’s won a lottery. A lottery of manual labour. He rolls out of bed, grabbing his back pack stuffed with yesterday’s clothes before leaving you to your own devices. In a literal sense, too, since you get a text. Ugh.

‘Gigi called in, can you reach?’

You would prefer not to reach, but this is capitalism.

‘When's the shift?’

‘6:30 to 12:30’

Why couldn’t something else at The Bear be fuckin’ broken today?

‘yeah i can reach’

‘that’s my girl, red tops today, see u’

You have also won the lottery of manual labour today. Look at you and Carm, luckiest people alive. Something like that. Alright, go shower and be normal about the fact that there’s a Michelin Star Chef making you breakfast in your kitchen. And he’s prett—

“You make your own bread.”

“I do.” You sit at your own little breakfast nook, waiting to be served. Towel hung around your neck post shower. You’d offer to help, but based on his urgency to cook for you, it’s gonna be a no. Plus, the gift on the table you’ve got for him is going to piss him off enough, can't poke this bear too much. He's already given you a mile. Too many idioms.

“I like to think in another universe I am a homesteader who makes her own soaps and renders tallow n’ shit. But I settle for growing basil and making sourdough in my shitty little Chicago apartment for now.”

“I like your apartment.” He hums, though amused. He turns and sets your plate—the one black plate— in front of you with a small smile. This smile immediately falls when he pushes the plate towards you and you push a travel bag of toiletries towards him.

“Fuck is this?”

“I don’t want to hear any complaints, Irish Spring.”

“How d’you know I use Irish Spring?”

“It’s all five of your routine, it’s going to be pungent— Now listen.” You pick up the bag; you’d dug through your sink cabinet and found a dollar store pack of plastic travel bottles, unused from cancelled trips of yesteryear. You've decanted your own products for him. It's fine, you buy jumbo sizes anyways...

“Shampoo, conditioner, face wash—They’ve even got labels.”

He takes the bag from you, setting it down on his side of the counter, begrudgingly. Though he hasn’t particularly paid it much mind, tunnelled on something else entirely, “Do you not like Irish Spring?”

"I didn't give you a body wash, you can still use it for that one purpose."

"Yeah, but do you not like Irish Spring?"

"...I think it's fine."

“Fine?”

“I’m more of an Old Spice fan.”

“You don’t deserve breakfast—” He pulls your plate, you pull it back.

“All I said—” “Thinkin’ I smell like shit—” “Did not say that—!” “Just cause you use the fruity stuff—” “I smell good! Deny that I smell good!” “You smell fine.” “Wowww—Whatever, do the thing.”

“Bruschetta with a breakfast twist.” Ah, that makes him give you the plate back. His kink is explaining food. “Sourdough toasted, topped with fresh basil—”

“Courtesy of me.”

“Courtesy of you, yes. Tomatoes, bacon glazed in balsamic, and you didn’t have parm so I used feta. And then, y’know, over medium egg on top.”

“You’re very good, Carmen.”

“Oh, I—Uh—” You haven’t even tried it yet. You’re telling him he’s good for the sake of the effort he’s given alone. He needs an antacid. “Thank you.”

It’s redundant to say his food is good. But what else can you say? It’s a fucking perfect open face sandwich. But he’s eating it with you, and half of it’s your own handiwork, and all of your pantry, so you leave your praises purely reaction based, unsaid.

You're honestly a little distracted, reading too hard into the act of him giving you the black plate and taking one of your shitty plastic ones for himself. Time to talk.

“Itinerary for today?”

“Gotta talk chaos menu with Syd before opening, then, well, running the restaurant all night… And then I’ll—I’ll go home.”

“Yeah? You can come back here, if you want to.” Thank God you took a bite in time to hide your selfish disappointment. It’s good for him to go home, but then he’s not here. Real Catch-22.

He shakes his head, “I think I’m good now. Thanks, though. What’s—What’s uh, your plans for today?”

“I’m gonna drop you off wherever you’re going, n’ then I’m gonna go shopping for Syd’s gift—”

“It’s her fuckin’ birthday or somethin?” It’s a delight how immediately panicked he is by this. You're also thankful because he's so distracted it means you won't have to tell him the rest of your plans for today. You'd like to keep that life separate. For as long as possible, at least.

“Nono, it’s just, I didn’t get her anything for her opening night and I wanna change that. I’ll get you something too.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” The very idea of waiting for his response is freaking you the fuck out, so you’re quick to clear your voice and add. “I’ll give you my number, in case you end up needing to crash.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Ey, text me your invoice too.”

You take both your cleared plates to the sink, and the lie is swift. You've gotten a lot better at that, in the past year.

“Oh no worries, your sister already covered it.”

It is 6:30 and your life is over. Kidding. Unless? You dropped off Carmen at the train station hours ago and, to use his words, ‘it’s hit’. He’s at The Bear and there’s nothing for you to fix there— So you’re not.

You’ve only been there like three times and yet it started to feel… Like your thing!

Like, like you’d just come in everyday and… Dunno, fix something... But it’s not like they’re gonna have a crisis everyday. Especially not ones that Fak can't handle himself if needed— There's no way he's gonna last at hosting, anyways. You’re now realizing the unrealistic dream— Possibly more unrealistic than homestead you.

Speaking of, Homestead You would probably throw up, if she saw the you you’re looking at in the mirror right now. You look good. Objectively, you know you look good. The mug is stamped. Your pants are black, high-waisted, and give you an ass. The bright red leather corset top is… Chafing, but it looks good! It's a sweetheart neckline so you have to take off your long rope chain necklace from Mikey and shove it in your pocket— Which is fine and doesn't feel bad at all. And listen, listen, being an on-call bottle girl is good money!

And you might get put on bar tonight! You don’t know for sure if you’re gonna have to juggle around lit up bottles for a bunch of fucking geezers!

...

God, fuck, it’s 10:20 and your life is over.

This group of geezers have been fucking annoying and fucking Cherry wouldn’t get off fucking bar even though you literally covered for her last week and these stupid grandpas asked if gratuity is included— No fucking shit! Did you take their card and put a 40% tip? Yeah, maybe. Fuck them! They’re too fucking rich to notice! And they took three hours to leave! Gonna bash this champagne bottle over his bald fucking—

“Ey! That’s a face I remember.”

You hear your name— Not Tony, not Chip, not Cousin. Your name.

You turn to see, oh fucking hell, let God kill you—

“Uncle J!~ Good to see you!~ What a surprise! It’s Jack, here.” Jack of all Trades. It was cute at the time of sign up. Your smile is bright, fake, strained, and beautiful.

“Been too long, really.” Cicero isn’t a bad guy—Correction: Cicero isn’t a bad guy, to you, but as Mikey once put it, he’s a fuckin’ ball buster and in your case, you’re one of the few people beneath him that he asks favours from. Always wants free labour and your expertise. And he always has a habit of asking for favours the second you need one back. But you don’t need one right now! So it’s fine! Everything’s fine!

“Do your Uncle a favour,”—Fully not your Uncle—“Could you pair me and my friends here with a good red?”

You let it go that they’re having fish and asking for a red. Stupid thing to get hung up over right now. You make a commission of it anyways; you just pick the most expensive bottle. He won’t know the difference. The Bear would know the difference. Carmen would notice the difference... Alright, relax.

While pouring glasses, Jimmy whispers to his compatriots and one by one they all peel off. It is almost alarming how quickly this group of men turn and leave without a second thought, taking their glasses with them.

You raise your brows and look at Cicero. “Ah. This is the moment where I sit?”

He nods, gesturing to the booth. “This is the moment where you sit.”

You slip into the booth, sitting across from him. “What do you need?”

“Right to the point with you.”

“I hate suspense.” You shrug.

“You liked Mikey.”

What the fuck?

You bite your inner cheek, hard. “Don’t say that shit.”

“I liked him too,” He says it solemnly, like your mutual grief is a proper apology. He takes a long sip of his stupid red wine. “Did you hear? Cousin Vinnie and Mira are gettin’ hitched, finally.”

“I have no fucking idea who Vinnie and Mira are.” You take the glass when he hands it to you, taking a sip. Small. You gotta drive home, after all.

“Really? It’s a big wedding—Destination too, in New York—”

“I hate to remind you, but I was friends with Mikey, not his family.” Not his biological one, at least. The Beef, sure. But you literally only met his siblings two days ago. “What’s a wedding gotta do with me?”

He bristles, and finally cuts it short. “Around three hundred guests, seven-hour shift, open bar—” “Oh, for fuckssake—” “Listen—”

“It’s an easy gig, I’ll fly you out for it, it’s a month and a half away, you’ll get to attend a big fuckin’ Italian wedding— Which will be a shitshow, certainly, so free entertainment; and Michelin Star level catering, kind of.”

You squint. Kind of? “You got Carmy in on this shit?”

“You know ‘em?”

You nod, pressing your elbows on the table, “We’ve recently become acquainted. What d’you got on him for him to cater a wedding?”

“He’s eight-hundred grand in the hole.” “Fuck!” “He gets thirty off for catering. Smart boy, said yes.”

Christ, you massage the bridge of your brow with one hand and pull out your phone with another to check your calendar, you might as well see if you can even entertain the idea. You don’t need a favour right now, maybe you can bargain and get him to actually pay you for it, this time.

“I dunno, Uncle J…”

Oh.

28 unread texts from Syd.

3 unread texts from an unknown number— Probably Carmen.

9 missed calls from Syd.

Uncle Jimmy, always, always, has a fucking way, of asking for a favour when you need one…

You slam your phone, screen down on the table, straightening your posture in your seat. “I have demands.”

He motions for you to continue, taking his wine glass back. “You always do.”

“You and your friends are gonna tip a hundred percent tonight.”

“That why you give me a 2016 Fisher?”

“I like to think ahead.”

“Smart girl.” He shrugs, palms of his hands out. Which means yes.

“If Uncle Lee comes up to the bar I’m throwing a fork at him and leaping over the counter.”

He chuckles, “Thought you 'didn’t know family'.”

“I remember what I'm told.”

His amusement fades quickly, remembering first hand. He nods. “…You’re allowed to jump him if I’m watching first.”

“And you’re friends with my boss, right?”

“We’re acquainted.”

“I’m gonna punch out now and you’re gonna smooth that out for me.”

He perks up, amused, glancing at your phone, “Somethin’ come up, Chip?”

“Don’t call me Chip.” He wants to poke at you, just a little bit more, but there’s a rattled look in your eyes that he’s so rarely seen that he lets it go.

He waves his hand, shrugging, “Be safe. I'll send you the details. December wedding, remember.”

At the end of the day, Cicero isn’t a bad guy to you, someone who loved his nephew as much as he did.

You’re running to your car while you dial back Syd. You don’t have time to read the texts, all you need to know is that it’s an emergency. She picks up just after the first ring.

“Syd what the—” “Code blue!”

You almost fall on your face and eat asphalt. For a flash, you’re in the back of an ambulance being handed a defibrillator at the age of 22, surrounded by faces just as scared and young as you. Then you’re back in the parking lot, slotting the key into your car door because the fob doesn’t work. It’s never worked.

“S-Someone’s having a fucking heart attack!?”

“What?!”

“That’s what fucking code blue means!”

“Oh my god! Sorry! No, I was just saying the thing that scares doctors the most!”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ scared Syd!” You slide into the driver’s seat and slam your car door shut. You take a deep breath, white knuckling the steering wheel. “…I’m-I'm sorry for yelling! Where are you, what’s going on?”

“The—The Bear, the restaurant.” The second you have a location you’re revving off.

“Nat locked herself in the office—” “Like trapped?” This shit again?

“No, no— Like she locked herself in— She did this like two hours ago and I thought she was just taking a breather— But we’ve closed and, and like almost everyone left and she’s still not coming out— And she blocked the door inside— and— And I think she’s trying to hide that she’s basically shrieking in pain every five minutes.”

You take a long time to register anything she’s just said. Her tone is as panicked as you feel on the inside. You’re only now registering the ambient yelling of Richie and Carmen in the background.

“…Did—Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah Syd, I’m just thinking.” You don’t step on the gas on purpose, it just happens. “A pregnant woman is screaming in pain— in intervals— behind a blockaded door?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Have you called an ambulance?”

There’s a much more distinct yell in the background from Richie, “No cops!”

Then from Carmen, “No coverage!”

“Yeah…” Syd shakily continues for them, “The insurance is a problem, and Richie said— Motherfucker—” You hear a muffled scrap over the phone before Richie continues on for Syd.

“Er, yeah, Cousin, Sugar keeps yelling that she’s fine ‘n blocked the door, if we call the cops they’re gonna ram that shit down and take her to the loony bin.”

“That’s not— That’s not what paramedics do.”

“That’s what they all do.”

“Richie, y’know, I was a paramedic, right?”

“…You a fuckin’ fed, Chip?”

“Richie, if I was a fuckin' narc you would be in prison by now. I, I— I'll be there in like, like eight minutes, everyone stop fucking yelling at Sugar!”

You’re there in four. You almost rear end someone and you run every yellow you get but you’re there in four. You don’t park properly in the back, you just drive your car in and turn it off in the middle of the lot. You don’t bother to be let in, you just punch the code in as you remember it. As Natalie told you.

“Oh good you—Oh my, God?” Syd is no better than a man in this moment, going from grateful for your presence to being one intrusive thought away from whistling.

You did not have time to change out of your ...outfit and someone has been hogging your Carhartt. You pass Syd quickly, waving a hand in front of her face. Goddammit, why do your boot heels have to have that incredibly satisfying femme fatale click right now?

“Alright— Relax—”

“Holy shit, Chippy!” Richie was yelling at Sugar through the door along with Carm, but once alerted to your presence is now snapping his fingers. You'd describe him more as impressed than actually attracted to you. “You clean up!”

“Cousin, are you—” He grabs Carmen’s face, turning it to you— Carmen does of course, immediately slap Richie’s hand away which of course, means they just start smacking each other's hands. Like preteen girls. “Ey, get the fuck off—” “I just want you to look at a pretty girl, Cousin—!” “Stop fuckin’ touchin’ me!” “Are you looking!?” “I—”

“Everyone shut the fuck up!”

You silence the room. You’re thankful most of the staff has left by now since it’s well after close. It's just Carmen, Syd, Richie, Tina, and Fak for some goddamn reason...You can't be mean you're handymen, you have to stick together.

“I look different from the usual jumpsuit, yes, we get it, can we move on? Pregnant woman?”

Syd is the first to speak, “…Were you on a date, though?”

You blink and roll your eyes all at once, twisting your head to her, “Syd—”

“It’s good to see you getting out there, baby.” Tina, deeply unhelpful in this moment, puts a hand around your shoulder. Oh to have a mother’s judgment when she’s not even your mother.

“O-kay!” You drag on the ‘kay’, clapping your hands together, “Everyone, just get your thoughts out in the next five seconds and then we’re moving on.”

“Chippy, I cannot believe you’ve held this out on me—” “—I meant it like-like a concerned, did we interrupt your date—” “—The red is unbelievable on you, Cousin!” “I need you to teach me how you do your makeup—” “Can you— can you yell again—?” “Fak!” “Oh, so that’s too much?”

A cacophony, it continues on. Your eyes glaze over, and you’re waiting for Sugar to let out a scream so everyone remembers the fucking point of being here. But then you look at Carmen. Everyone’s pivoted from staring at you to yelling at each other. But Carmen; Carmen is still looking at you. Stupid soft scary eye contact. And his voice is so much quieter than the yelling but it’s the thing that you hear anyways.

“It looks tight.”

There’s a possibility that when you killed the teenage girl inside you that you also killed the feminist. Because there’s a small sub-sect of you that’s upset that he’s not objectifying you right now. That his vision is focused on you. Not the changes. He doesn’t seem to look at you any differently than when you’re wearing a jumpsuit and utility belt, covered in toilet water. This should not be annoying and yet it is.

“It is.”

He nods, eye contact unshifting, unblinking, “You wanna change?”

“Maybe after we find out whether or not your sister is in labour.”

He nods. He takes a second but he nods.

You approach him, rather, the door, knocking gently. Everyone quiets down.

You clear your throat, and once more, the persona is put on, you’re a paramedic, putting on that soft but firm reassuring authoritative tone. “E-M Rescue, I got a call for a wellness check on Natalie Berzatto?”

“Tony—” A groan of pain behind the door, “I am perfectly well! Everyone go home!”

You grimace, you motion with your hand for Fak to hand you a screwdriver— He keeps one in his breast-pocket, even when wearing a suit. Hey, you should start doing that.

“Nat, I’m a paramedic— Or I was—will you please let me in?”

“I don’t— Fuck! —Need a paramedic!”

“Never hurts to do a check-up, Nat.” You speak calmly, like you always did. “Listen, lover, if you don’t open the door, I’m gonna have to take it off its hinges, and we're gonna lose medic patient confidentiality.”

When she doesn’t reply after a good beat, you start to unscrew the top hinge; she can hear it, “Wait, wait, wait— Fuck-Fuck— I’m opening it!”

There’s another series of pained groans as she exerts herself to open the door, and once she does, it’s only by a crack, to look at you and you alone. She’s absolutely been crying. She speaks in a whispered tone. “Just you.”

You nod, handing the screwdriver back to Fak without breaking eye contact with her. “Just me.”

She cracks it open just enough for you to come in. And so, you do. Everyone is, for the first time, too worried about her shutting down to interrupt or yell a complaint.

You close the door behind you, pressing your back to it. You note the toppled over chair by your feet that she must’ve blocked it with. Plus the puddle of amniotic fluid beneath her. Oh fuck.

...

“You wanna talk or do you just want me to check your contractions?”

“I’m—” She shakes her head, covering her face. She half sits on the desk. “I’m fucking— I am not ready for this.”

“Yeah.” You nod. You’re not here to convince anyone they’re ready to be a fucking mother. But you’re here to listen, certainly.

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“Who?”

“Her—!” Her voice is choked, another contraction. You’re silently taking the time in your head. She points to her stomach.

“And— And we just opened, and— And I’m gonna have to go on maternity leave, which is the last fucking thing we need and— and— If I could just fucking keep her in!”

“Natalie.” You put a hand on her shoulder, she finally looks at you. “This is happening.”

“Not help—fu—ll.”

“I know it’s not. This is scary and there are no take backs—” “Very unhelp—”

“Nat, your daughter wants to meet you.”

You squeeze her shoulder; she looks like she’s gonna cry all over again for a completely different reason. “She probably won’t hate you. Who’s to say. But I know you’ll love her. And that’s enough, isn’t it?”

She nods, emphatically, but something is still bothering her. You squeeze her shoulder again. You whisper, so even if everyone’s ear is pressed to the door— Which you doubt, she’s screaming after all, they won’t hear.

“Carmen will still know you love him, even when you're not here.”

She immediately goes for a hug, you reciprocate with a shuddered ease. She sniffs, head on your shoulder. She stays there for a while before letting you go, nodding. “Okay.”

You hand her the tissue box next to her on the table, she takes it thankfully, crushing it in her hand. Another contraction. Oh, that couldn't have been more than 2 minutes. Oh fuck.

You kneel down in front of her, and you’re simply no longer in your body as a person but just the paramedic. You could not be more thankful that she’s wearing a dress today. Awkward requests of spreading legs and pulling off underwear aside, Natalie’s daughter does in fact really want to meet her. Oh fuck.

You look up at Natalie, between her knees, you speak cool, professional. “You’re crowning. This is gonna have to happen here. I'll have someone call your husband.”

You’re so calm that it doesn’t give Natalie the feeling or need to freak out, she just breathes. “Okay. Okay.”

You stand upright. “Do you prefer this office or somewhere else?”

“I can’t— Move.”

“Makes sense. Makes total sense. Okay. I’ll go get everything we need, I’ll be right back. I might send some people in, okay, love?”

She just grunts in reply, nodding, now that she’s not in as much emotional pain, she can entirely focus on her brutalizing physical pain.

“Oh, hey, I know—” You grab her purse, pulling out her phone and ear buds, handing them to her with haste, your calm demeanour is faltering just a bit. “Listen to some music, loud, y’know, chill…” You put the pods in her ear for her. She’s again, in too much pain to tell you to fuck off, and just plays her music loud.

You softly open the door, smiling just a bit too much as you leave, and very softly close the door behind you. Looking at the motley crew before you, your persona immediately falls apart. You really only wanted her to play music so you could scream. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“What’s happening, she good?” What a sweet, stupid brother, Sugar has.

You purse your lips together, eyes wide, shaking your head. “She’s going to give birth in like— Maybe six minutes. Max ten.” Everyone goes to speak in an uproar of panic, and then you slap yourself in the face. Hard. That stuns them silent.

“Alright!” You press your hands over your eyes, “Tina!”

She’s been around this block before, “What do you need?”

“Can you go sit in there with her? Tell her all the breathing exercises and shit? Keep her calm? Coming from you it won’t seem so—”

“Condescending as fuck?”

“Yes, exactly, can you?”

“Gotchu, baby.” She claps your shoulder when she walks past and into the office.

You clap hers in tandem, “Thank you, Mama—Okay, Richie!”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna need you to call Nat’s husband—”

“Why do I—”

“Because you’re a fuckin’ dad, Rich, and he will need you!” You’re yelling all pissed, snapping your fingers at him, but he does light up when you say it like that. “I don’t care if he wets his fuckin’ bed, tell him to get here!”

He salutes, walking off, “Aye aye, Cap’n Chip.”

You shake off the sting in your hand, God, you really did slap yourself too hard. You turn to the next targets. “Syd, Fak.”

Syd responds hesitantly for the both of them, since Fak is silently enjoying your colonel persona a little too much. “…Yes, C-Captain?”

“I need towels, a lot of clean towels— cloth ones, like sanitized clean— Warm half in water— And then I need a clean sheet— A table cloth or something, I don’t fucking care, something clean and big that you’re fine destroying. I need sterile sheaths, Syd you get those— Other than that, however they get to me, I don’t give a shit— Just scrub in before you touch anything!”

They almost knock into each other the way they run so fast. You yell after them. “Get the big sheet first, she needs to lay down!”

“Yes, Chef!”

You take a deep breath before moving your gaze onto Carmy. The screaming lead EM in you melts off your shoulders, just for the second.

He asks before you can even say anything, “Yes, Chef?”

“I need you to scrub in and get me gloves and an apron—” “On it, Chef—” “And you’re gonna sit in with me for the birth of your niece.”

He cringes, not to refuse, but just the mounting reality of the situation is dawning on him. His sister is going to give birth to his niece in their shared office of his high-class restaurant within it's first week of open.

But you then tag on, “Carmy, she needs you— Frankly, I’m not the one giving birth but fuckin' I need you. T-There.”

He softens instantly, like tranquilizing— Well, a bear.

“Yes, Chef.”

I know the opening probably feels so far away by now, but i do want to note that Breakfast Bruschetta is my own recipe that I used to make like every fuckin' day pre-employment. It's so goddamn good. I highly recommend it, babes. It's balsamic with brown sugar dissolved, btw, Carmy's just a quick explainer.

I wrote like a solid 75% of the labour sequence before deciding it just needed to have the breathing room of it's own chapter, so until next time for that one bbs. But I'm excited for it! And also dreading it! A lot of hard conversations combined with giving birth = nightmare to write, but well worth it, i think. Speaking of: I don't believe at the end of Season 2 that Sugar is at the end of her term of 36 weeks, but in our case here, she is. I'm very much so not interested in a very scary premature birth for our girl!! She's okay!! Dw!! I just wonked with time a little, hope that's okay.

And hey, look at that reveal! Bartender/Sommelier was code for bottle service-- Which is a very respectable career, btw, don't get it twisted-- I was critiquing it only in the way I would critique literally any other job: Misery Under Capitalism. And now we've got that fuckin' wedding in the future midst! Ah!!

Anyways please send me your thoughts ad nauseam, I reload my activity feed every 3 seconds to see what you guys are thinking. If you reblog, tell me what you think in the tags!! Yell at me in the replies!! Send an anon in!! I don't bite, I swear <3

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#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmen x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear x reader #carmy the bear #the bear fx

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astr0logywh0r3 · 8 months

Text

astro observations pt. 2

1.) venus square mars ppl have trouble with balancing their masculine and feminine energies. they can feel this internally and it can make them feel insecure. one second they feel hyper feminine and the next they feel more masculine. they wish they could find a way to balance both sides of them but it’s a struggle. they could come off too strong from time to time as a result of their inner conflict (might come off too strongly feminine or masc in the moment) and then they’d feel bad ab it later

2.) i think neptune in the 1st/conjunct the asc might be good at making other people feel special 🤨

3.) mars-pluto ppl have that confident inner power within themselves

4.) cancer risings remind me of fluttershy from mlp 💀

5.) saturn conjunct asc/in 1st house might have been extremely shy kids. they have a lot of determination within themselves though. makes a very strong-willed person. go after what they want with resilience and understand the importance of taking calculated steps to achieve their desires. definitely the no-bullshit type

6.) pluto on the ascendant always reminds me of tony montana from scarface for some reason 😭. i guess it makes sense since al pacino has pluto conjunct his asc so idk. it’s just that archetype. tony wasn’t afraid and didn’t stop at anything to reach where he got. a phoenix risen from the ashes. stubborn. that “don’t tell me what tf to do” type energy. intense, babe. their eyes are crazy too (it’s like they store all their inner intensity and deep emotions in their eyes ..lotta depth). also the no-bullshit type. if they’re mad at you ……be afraid 💀 they will plot revenge and start conspiring some shit

7.) taurus risings are pretty in a “oh, they’re cute” way. they have short little noses and pretty eyes

8.) pisces risings… are y’all good at telling stories? 😭 i think you guys get a little sidetracked

9.) chart ruler in the 9th makes someone adventurous… they just wanna explore and do everything. try everything there is at least once. could have a great sense of humor too

10.) scorpio moons are really protective of their family. they guard their families just like they guard their emotions

11.) unpopular opinion but scorpios aren’t mysterious to me 😐 i’m not sure id call any zodiac sign mysterious tbh it really depends on the whole chart. scorpios to me are just super honest people who have pragmatic opinions that they aren’t afraid to state out loud. if a scorpio has an opinion they feel strongly about they won’t be afraid to let others know how they feel, which i admire about them to an extent. they like getting to the nitty gritty of situations. some of them can actually be very kind people. funny as well due to their honesty and boldness. oh, and they just love dark reds. search up “maroon” and that is literally their staple color you cannot tell me otherwise

12.) i’ve met leos who i’ve found boring before which goes against their stereotype 💀 sometimes their personalities are just the bare minimum honestly unless the rest of the chart says otherwise

13.) mars in the 11th have big dreams for themselves. they wanna make a difference.

14.) 8th house sun makes someone intriguing and mysterious. it can also be a placement that grants beauty.

15.) moon in the 4th just wanna belong.

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charaznablescanontoyota · 3 months

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"marn i missed sgdq 2024 what should i watch"

hi i decided i'm doing another one of these. it's been a minute. this past week was summer games done quick, an annual speedrunning marathon raising money for doctors without borders and also a great way to get into watching speedrunning. a lot of their content is tailored towards being both clearly explained and fun to watch for an audience outside the speedrun community, so you can jump in with basically no knowledge besides “this person is gonna play a game really fast”.

gdq has the full week's worth of vods up as a playlist on their channel, but here are some runs that i personally think you should check out:

ken griffy jr presents mlb by peanut butter the dog: look it's a dog playing baseball. i don't know what else to tell you.

the entire silly block: speedrunners get up way too early in the morning/late at night to play games that feel like a fever dream. some of the commentators are going on 24 hours of no sleep. it's brilliant. my personal highlights of what i've seen so far are stuart little 2, mad panic coaster, city bus simulator race, and the golf it wrong hole only race that the players dressed up as golfers for

alan wake 2 alan%: alan wake clips through walls and generally has a bad time while a bunch of gamers call him a sopping wet catboy. the runner for this one is really charismatic and it's very funny to see staff rushing to open up the pit as soon as we sing starts (yes they do the dance of course they do the dance). i just love joyful runs of horror games man

super mario 64 blindfolded randomizer: what if you played mario 64 blindfolded and also the stars were in completely random locations. and also you had to do it very very fast.

kingdom hearts 2 critical any%: every kh2 speedrun i've ever seen is a work of art and this one is no different. some of the boss fights go down so fast you will literally miss them if you look away for a minute. and also two of my favorite runners are on couch commentary!

balatro showcase: genuinely made me rethink how i'm playing some of the balatro decks. also great commentary and just fun all around despite (or perhaps partially because of) the absolute struggle session going on with plasma deck in the beginning

super mario world kaizo relay: kaizo is a shorthand term for a game hacked to its absolute limits of difficulty that often requires strict precision of movement and can punish the player for thinking they're smarter than it. in this segment, two teams of 4 very very good mario runners race to complete 8 kaizo levels they've never seen before in their lives

mario maker 2 troll level race: i always like the mario maker races for the same reason i like the kaizo relays. i love watching two speedrunners thrown blindly into the shit have to make up strategies on the fly via trial and error (and error, and error, and error, and...)

kirby air ride race: two high level kirby air ride speedrunners race for an actual physical title belt. the trash talk game happening here is of the insane variety that only two very skilled people who truly respect each others' talents at their game of choice can provide

kaizo mario galaxy: what if mario galaxy hated you even more than usual and would stop at nothing to kill you. also most of the commentators are only familiar with the vanilla game and their reactions to the added-in bullshit are hysterical

tony hawk pro skater 1, 2, 3, and 4: i fell asleep watching this and woke up in a cold sweat to the sound of a bunch of people singing superman by goldfinger. good run

super mario rpg remake: this was the finale block and it's just great to see a bunch of people who really really love the original mario rpg get to hang out and talk about how good it is and also watch a world record level player absolutely stunt on the game

halo 3 four-player co-op legendary: dudes rock

#sgdq #speedrunning

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forsoobado137 · 11 days

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🍨dolly_as_prez Follow

It's been five years since I made this meme and nothing has changed lol

156,932 notes

🧻Dorpblorpw93 Follow

Watching Alfred's short films on youtube are always fucking hilarious because I never know if he's being ironic or not. They all look like they were written produced by an over-caffeinated film student but if they had an actual budget. Like they are legit the funniest pieces of media out there and I have no idea if the comedy is intentional or not.

🏞fromthevalley89 Follow

Where do I begin here? The fact that he basically plays everyone? The fact that he included Arthur but didn't let him play as himself and cast him as bad guys? The fact that he was able to get Roderich and Francois on board with this? The fact that he doesn't even name himself and just puts ME? The fact that the end credits are three times longer than the movie? AND HE LITERALLY CAST HIMSELF AS GOD?! This is peak cinema.

🧭justintime12oclock Follow

Also what is up with Tony? Did Alfred just rotoscope his roommate and make him an alien? is it CGI (Really badly done)?

47,459 notes

🌌galaxylesbian Follow

AGAIN?!

🐝beemybestie Follow

Translation: wahhh wahhh my president won't give me money for Louis Vuitton and my seventh mansion so I'm gonna sit on my ass while the stocks plummet and the trains malfunction 🥺

🌟bugdrinkbugrink Follow

Actual translation: I've literally fought in dozens of wars and bent over backwards for this government and all I get in return is a minimum wage paycheck, demeaning insults from my own politicians, and disrespect from tourists that I'm forced to put up with. I deserve better, and by not working, I'm going to demonstrate how fucked you all would be without me. I hope this opens people's eyes to the lack of rights me and my fellow nations have, and that it will force governments everywhere to actually give a shit.

🌷Azaleyaaaaah02 Follow

Also that mansion thing is such bullshit. The reason nations have so many houses is because they have been ALIVE FOR CENTURIES and they can't just stay in one place forever. Also they have had more than enough time to buy houses when they were cheap and pay off multiple properties. Nations aren't just secretly a bunch of out of touch millionaires. They have been homeless, in debt, and have lived in far worse conditions than you could ever imagine.

🌟bugdrinkbugrink Follow

For everyone trying to call nations "selfish" for going on strike because it has negative effects on their countries, that is literally THE ENTIRE POINT OF STRIKES. World leaders think that all nations do is look pretty and die over and over in petty wars. In the THREE DAYS that France (and other European countries) went on strike back in 1976, the stock market plummeted, trade slowed, transportation stopped working, and other citizens stopped going to work. The leaders realized pretty quickly that they fucked up. After they got better wages, the nations returned, and everything was up and running again.

Moral of the story: PAY YOUR NPS A LIVING WAGE! These people have literally sacrificed everything for their nations. So what if France wants to be able to afford iconic French fashion brands? If I was an immortal being who died thousands of times in mankind's worst wars, you better BELIEVE I would demand that I can afford to treat myself.

41,246 notes

#hetalia #in universe hetalia #in universe hetalia memes #hetalia public au #nations revealed au #aph america #hws america #aph canada #hws canada #aph england #hws england #aph austria #hws austria #aph france #hws france #fake tumblr dash #sorry this ones a bit short

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delfiore · 1 year

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—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (4/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: your start at barcelona is rockier than expected. luckily, you have ona there to support you through it.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: we're almost at the end guys final stretch!! this series is ending at part 5

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART V

“I forgot how fucking dreadful press days are.”

You had just returned home from an entire day of cameras shoved in your face and smiling until your cheeks hurt. It didn’t help that you were nervous as hell at a new club and country. To say your battery was spent was an understatement.

“Well then don’t get used to it, 'cause I’d be happy not to do any of the work that got you here,” Toni answered on the video call.

“Fuck off,” you laughed. “I wanna stay here for a while. So, no need to worry.”

“Good. You deserve it, Y/N. You’ll do great.”

“Thank you for all that you do, Tones. I don’t thank you enough for putting up with me and my bullshit.”

“You can thank me by becoming top scorer this season?”

You grinned, “We’ll see.”

There was a different expectation of being a Barcelona player. You were presumed to integrate yourself into a team of champions and help prolong the club’s success.

These were high expectations, and with them came intensive physical and technical training. You had to adapt to a new style of play, new players with different sets of skills, not to mention having to settle into a whole new footballing culture. But you were where you are because you never backed down from a challenge, and this one was no exception.

It certainly helped that there were people you have played with at the club—Lucy, Keira, and, of course, Ona.

You felt her eyes on you as you finished a sprint on the training ground, slightly self-conscious as you were already sloppy and perspiring just from the warmup.

“Need some water, Y/L/N? You’re not already sweating, are you?” Lucy teased as she jogged past with a ball at her feet.

You pointed at the glaring sun. “Just gotta get used to the weather.”

“Well, ya better get used to it fast ‘cause I’m not gonna wait for you to catch up,” the English defender said before nutmegging you with a cackle.

“Oh, you’re fucking on!”

The laughter caught Ona’s attention. She looked over and saw you and Lucy fighting the ball off each other, your giggles rolling like a child’s yet your movements were fluid and expertly as if you were on the pitch. She couldn’t help but smile as her eyes followed your form, energized and youthful, your skin glistening under the sun.

The ball rolled to her, and she stopped it when the sole of her feet, before passing it back to you. Your giggles died down as you took the ball in your hands and tossed it over to Lucy.

“Hey,” you said with a lingering beam.

“Hi,” she returned your smile.

She lingered, watching the smile never leave your face as you jogged—practically bounced—over to Coach. You were much happier here, it was apparent. How could you not, when there is sunshine all year round in Barcelona? She could only hope she wasn’t the one to rain on your parade.

During a physical training drill involving two people, you were paired with her. Something about similar height and body weight, but she could only think about the way you were panting from the heat, and how you chugged your water like a parched man in the middle of the desert.

“Ready?” She smirked, handing the elastic band to you.

You huffed with a grin and put the band around your waist. “Don’t hold back.”

“Not planning on it.”

Somewhere along the session, Ona had forgotten all about her worries. Something had changed in you, or maybe she had never known the real you at all; the playful and charismatic part of you that you weren’t using to charm her, but it was just the way you were with people. It made her rue not cherishing you as you were before, and letting you slip through her fingers.

You were sprawled out on the grass like a starfish, heaving from the strenuous session. Several of your teammates were also on the ground, some sitting, some lying down as you were, so you didn’t feel too bad about being absolutely destroyed.

“You getting up anytime soon, partner?” A figure blocked the beaming rays of the sun, a short relief from the heat.

“Keep gloating,” you groaned and stood up, pulling your shirt up to wipe the sweat from your face. You knew your plan was working when you spotted her looking at your abdomen, your skin glowing and contoured in the light.

Hardly hiding your smirk, you grabbed a bottle of water, feeling a strange tightness in your thigh just as the session was brought to an end.

“Everyone, gather around,” Mapi waved her hands. “We’re hosting a little party to celebrate a new season at ours. Saturday night, 7 o’clock, BYOB, and a potluck vibe. Whatever you can bring, okay?”

“As long as there won’t be another fire like last time, we’re all good,” said Rolfö with a smirk.

“That was one time, okay? And it wasn’t even that bad,” Mapi protested.

“It almost burned your pretty little face off,” Pina teased.

“Hey, you alright?” You heard Ona whisper next to you. She must have noticed the way you were grimacing and grabbing at the back of your leg.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just feeling a little tight right here.” It was the spot in which your hamstring was injured a couple of years ago.

“Okay, let’s go to the physio,” Ona offered you her arm.

“Oh, it’s okay. I can find my way there.”

Ona hesitated. She suddenly realized how this must have looked for her; either an overly concerned and attentive teammate or an appropriately concerned and attentive lover.

“Do you . . . not want me to come with you?” She asked, her voice quiet and almost inaudible over Mapi frantically defending herself.

“Well, I . . . I don’t want to bother you.”

“It won’t be a bother,” she was astonished to know you thought you could ever bother her. “Promise.”

You nodded and walked with her to the physio quarters. All the while, Ona was walking a step behind you just in case you needed her assistance. When you arrived, a couple of the physios greeted you heartily in Catalan, and Ona was quick to jump in and translate when you looked at her for help.

“We’ve got a feeling this might happen, given her history with that hamstring injury. Tell her to lie down, I’ll have a look.”

You grimaced as the physio felt your thigh, digging his fingers into your flesh, your soft groans stirring a hidden part in Ona. There was a time when she was the one to dig her digits into your thighs. She knew you liked it when did because you would always make your pleasure known.

“He said you’ll be okay, Y/N. Just have to remember to stretch thoroughly before and after physical exercise.”

You sighed and pouted, as you rested your chin on your folded arms.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I just came to a new club, I don’t want this to slow me down,” you blew air out of your mouth. “I just don’t wanna let anyone down.”

“You won’t, Y/N,” Ona took a stool and sat in front of you. “I know any club would be happy to have you at 70%, much less at your full capacity.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Is this your attempt at making me feel better after everything?”

Ona stuttered, gawking at your comment. Your grin never faltered, and you tilted your head, taunting her.

“I guess I deserved that,” she chuckled quietly, feeling warmth creep up her cheeks.

“I’m just kidding, Ona. I wanna get past it, really,” your eyes softened. “It was causing unnecessary stress and . . . I don’t wanna feel like that anymore.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“No, please. Don’t apologize anymore. I know you’re sorry.”

“Okay, sorry,” she cringed as soon as it came out. “Okay.”

“I want us to start over. As friends.” You said, extending a hand towards her, dangling it in front of her face. “After all, I feel like we should at least be friendly if we’re playing on the same team now, right?”

She wanted nothing more than to scream in your face and tell her how much she wanted you, how much she wanted to wake up in the morning and find you in the bed next to her, to make you coffee and hold you and kiss you and tell everyone on the team about it because she would be so proud to be yours, to tell you that there hasn’t been a day since she left Manchester that she didn’t wish she could go back and tell you how she really felt.

Instead, she nodded and took your hand. “Yeah, okay.”

It wasn’t just her decision anymore, it never was. And yet, she decided anyway and had to live with it.

As the season rolled on, you found yourself slipping sometimes. You would think about Ona and the time you spent together, but you also cherished what you had now. You were teammates, but you were also friends. You supported and helped each other during training and matches, just as good teammates should. Maybe it was easier that way, but you yearned to be close to her again.

Keira insisted that the best thing you could do was to go on dates and go on dates you did. You went on so many dates in the span of a month that all the faces seemed to have blurred together. A couple of them became one-night stands, but none turned out to be anything meaningful, not when you only had one person in the back of your mind, hard as you tried not to act on them.

They reminded you of Leena, how shitty you handled the situation by basically fleeing the country. You had called her a few times, and left a few messages, wanting to talk and apologize, but none of them were answered. You tried her Instagram, but she had blocked you on there too. You didn’t blame her, and maybe reaching out now was only giving you the closure you needed to move on, but you wanted to do it because you believed Leena deserved an apology for everything she’s done for you.

So you texted Gio, letting him know what happened. He wasn’t pleased when you told him, not exactly liking that you had disrespected his friend, but agreed to pass a message along.

“Hello, Coach. Tough loss today. What do you think was the main factor in Barça’s defeat today?” “Well, it’s never fun to go through a loss, and we all have a lot of work to do. I can’t comment as to why we’ve lost—I’d have to watch it back—but we simply were not the better team today.” “What do you think of Y/N Y/L/N’s performance? There were several chances that she’s missed today, and she hasn’t made an impression at the club quite yet. Have you had any reassessments about this signing at all?” “To evaluate a player’s performance this early is simply unfair. Some players hit the ground running right away, but some don’t. It doesn’t mean they are doomed. Y/N has shown time and time again that she is a world-class player, and I have full faith that she will become an integral part of our squad.”

Barcelona hadn’t won in five games. It was starting to worry the board. You knew it was a team sport, and that if you lost, it meant multiple people were doing something wrong. But you started all five of those games, and you missed a lot of chances and passes. It made you think it was your fault somehow.

You turned off the press conference you were watching of Jonatan’s. Even though he didn’t show it, you knew he was stressed, trying to find a fault in the system. You wished you knew the answer, but you didn’t, because you were trying your best and it still didn’t seem to be good enough.

“Alright, girls.” Alexia clapped her hands together as she stood in the middle of the dressing room. “We lost. Big deal. Feel the sting, and let it pass over you. If you don’t, we might as well just give up on the title now. We can’t do that. We’re champions. The reason why we are is that we are strong enough to get back up, time and time again. That’s what makes us champions.”

Your eyes darted toward Ona sitting across the dressing room with her head in her hands. There were two goals out of the four the team conceded that came from the right flank, where Ona was covering. The moment those goals hit the net, you had the urge to yell, but seeing the way her shoulders sagged as she dejectedly looked away absolved you of any anger you felt.

You remembered the nights you spent consoling her over losses that could have gone either way. She blamed herself for every defeat she had suffered, finding every fault that she had contributed to, and today was no different.

“Hey,” you knelt in front of her.

She looked up at you, and you knew she had been crying from how red her face was.

You offered her a sad smile. “Look around you. There’s something worse than being sad, and that’s being alone and sad. You’re not alone.”

Placing a firm hand on her knee, you rubbed her skin softly. She laughed quietly, and you remembered how it was to kiss her. It was so long ago, but the traces of it still haunted you before you closed your eyes at night. It wouldn’t be good for either of you now. Plus, everyone was here.

“Did you just quote Ted Lasso at me?”

“Yeah, but he ain’t wrong.”

Looking around the room at the sullen faces of your teammates, you couldn’t help but feel grateful that they were all here, united by the same emotions. But you still couldn’t shake that gnawing feeling in your stomach that you might have been the problem. The moment you came to the club, Barcelona went on its worst streak in years? Was it the inevitability of a club’s success running its course, or that you had come in and fucked it all up? You knew the answer, of course, and you hated the anxiety that followed.

But you were Y/N Y/L/N, and you never backed down from a challenge, and it wouldn’t be fun if there were none.

It felt like everything you were doing, it was all wrong. Jonatan had sent you in to utilize your dribbling, but you felt like every time you tried, the opposition would mercilessly cut you off. You felt helpless, seeing the way your teammates attempted to hide how annoyed they were you had lost possession again, this time from a quick pass to the flank from Aitana. You were subbed off halfway through the second half to make way for Salma, who managed to salvage a point with an equalizer later in the game.

You sat on the bench, watching your teammates fight on, feeling dejected and trying not to cry before you could get to the dressing room. Patri, who had also been subbed off, put her arm on your shoulder and rubbed it soothingly.

Whilst you were coming off, you heard boos coming from the stands, from Barça fans, calling you names, telling you to go back where you came from. You bit your lip, and kept your head down, so people wouldn’t see your tears and make fun of them too.

You excused yourself at the final whistle to find a bathroom you could hide in. Why was it so hard for you to receive those passes? You had never had trouble with passing before.

Looking in the mirror, you saw a face looking back with pity. But it wasn’t you, not really. It was the insecure child you were years ago, the one whose ambitions were driven by fear of abandonment. Her eyes were brimming with tears, her bottom lip jutting out and quivering, her chest rose and fell like she awaited the world to close in on her and swallow her whole.

Your breathing picked up, and you started pacing back and forth, breathing heavily out of your mouth. Your hands shook as you mumbled to yourself to get your shit together. The breaths you drew grew faster and shallower until you sunk to your knees on the cold tiles and wept. You didn’t know how long you were there. It could have been minutes, or hours until two arms wrapped around you tightly.

You looked up, panicked, but it was just Ona. Still, you stood up and walked away from her attempting to hide your tear-stained face, but she insisted, pulling you into her.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” She said, over and over. “Look at me.”

So you looked. You were so tired of fighting, you just wanted to go home. Her eyes darted back and forth between yours, hard at first trying to get you to stop being stubborn, but then they softened, seeing you fall apart like this.

“This feels oddly familiar, doesn’t it?” She said.

You sniffled, and let out a tearful laugh before launching yourself into her arms. She stood there holding you while you cried until you were too tired to continue.

Winter could have come and gone in Barcelona and you would have never noticed. Still, the Catalans were big on Christmas, at least the ones you knew were. Everyone had been talking about their holiday plans, much of it involved big dinners surrounded by family and/or drinking until you passed out, but you thought about the vacation you would be taking somewhere warm. Mexico perhaps, the Maldives, or back to good ol’ Ibiza.

So when Ona invited you to come back to Vilassar de Mar to spend Christmas with her and her family, you had an important decision to make. You knew how it looked, but things were far from how they appeared between you. After that game away, you had found it easier to confide in Ona about things; little things, big things, it didn’t matter, Ona was always there to listen. In return, you lent her your ears and maybe a shoulder to lean on. You had almost become something like friends.

Ona’s childhood home was no grand castle, but it was warm and loving. Her parents and brother greeted you like you were family right from the moment you stepped through the door, taking your suitcase and jacket from you. Her father, claiming to be a big fan of yours, asked for your autograph and you could only happily indulge him.

“Please, our home is yours,” her mother said, leading you inside.

“Told you they could be a lot,” Ona murmured with a grin.

“What do you mean? I’m being treated like royalty! I’m not complaining,” you smirked and she rolled her eyes.

Her mother led you and Ona to her childhood bedroom, a small room littered with posters and trophies sitting on a shelf at the foot of her bed.

Just then, her mother gasped quietly as if remembering something, and spoke to Ona in Spanish. She stuttered for a few seconds, then turned to you. “My mom’s saying you could take this room and I’ll sleep in Joan’s. He’ll take the couch if that’s—”

“Oh, no, no, please. I feel bad enough that you guys are hosting me, I can’t just kick your brother out of his room.” You shook your head quickly. “I could sleep here if that’s okay.”

Ona nodded gingerly and relayed the message to her mother, who was fully understanding and left you both to unpack.

The door clicked shut, and you looked over to Ona, who had lifted the corner of her mouth looking back at you.

Aitana came to visit on the 23rd, claiming it was always a treat to hang at the Batlles because she always leaves well-fed. You could attest to that, as the dinners they served you were mouth-watering, and you found yourself thinking about the next one the moment you opened your eyes in the morning.

You had helped Ona’s mom with juicing some lemonade to bring out to everyone relaxing in the backyard or—in Ona and Aitana’s case—passing a football around. Quickly setting the lemonade down on the table—much to Mrs. Batlle’s dismay—you sprinted towards the girls and took the ball from Ona’s feet.

She stuck her tongue out at you and walked towards the table, taking a glass of lemonade for herself.

“Would it be so hard to admit to what you’re both denying yourself?”

You chuckled quietly at Aitana’s words. “It feels more like deprivation than denial.”

“Ona loves you, Y/N.” She said, watching Ona on the other side of the yard conversing with her brother.

“Did she tell you that?”

“I’ve known the girl ever since we were 15,” she shrugged. “And yes, she cried to me last year about you.”

You chuckled. “Well, the feeling is definitely mutual.”

“But . . . ?”

You glanced at her and sent a wordless smile, plopping your sunglasses back on before joining the Batlles for their daily lemonade. Aitana watched you to the table, picking up on Ona quickly handing you a glass, and brushing hair out of your eyes as you drank. Idiots, she thought, the both of them.

Looking back, there was not a single moment during your time in Vilassar de Mar that you weren’t holding your breath every time you were in the same room as Ona. It made you seek out her mom, and hang with her more than you did with Ona. You were also able to pick up some more Spanish, as it was the only way you could effectively communicate with her. You didn’t want to toot your own horn, but her mom did call you an aprendiz rápida, a fast learner.

“Your parents have outdone themselves once again,” you said, leaning against the window. “I wish I grew up with the stuff you guys eat here. Christmas would be so much more fun.”

“Did you like the caga tío too?” Ona grinned and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Best thing ever. It poops nougat!” You said excitedly and shook your head.

As your laughter died down, you could hear slurred singing and laughing outside the window somewhere down the street.

“I can’t remember the last time I was this happy,” you said, a ghost of a smile remaining on your lips.

Ona looked out the window, smiling too. “It’s why I always go home whenever I feel down. If I can’t go home, I’ll bring my family to me.” She was sitting next to you now, her arms folded and propped on her thighs. “You’re always welcome to visit. I’m sure they love you more than they love me now.”

“Well, I’d be surprised if they could resist my charm,” you grinned and pushed her shoulder. “I envy you, Ona. Your family’s fantastic.”

“You’ve never told me about your family before,” she said.

“Because there’s nothing to tell,” you shrugged. “Mom and Dad never really cared about me anyway. The only good thing they did for me was sign me up for football and let me leave home to go to my youth club.

They used to go to my games because they were obligated to. The moment I turned 18, they never felt the need. Sometimes I just want to win a game, then look into the stands and see them wearing my shirt, cheering me on, be proud of me.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Ona offered, bumping her knee against your own.

“Don’t be. If they’re not, you shouldn’t be,” you smiled sadly.

Your gaze shifted to her face, seeing the way she studied you, just like that day in the tunnel. Ona was an observer, and it was apparent whenever she was. It was why she was so good at the game; she absorbed like a sponge and repeated what she learned like it was nothing.

Her eyes darted back and forth between your own, and you smiled, watching her nuzzle into her arm, yet leaning in ever so gently.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

“Is this wise?” You raised an eyebrow at her, grinning.

“No,” her voice came out as barely a whisper, “but I know it’s not wrong.”

She was right. It shouldn’t be wrong to feel the way you did. From the beginning, it’s always been her.

You were depriving yourself of the one missing piece in your life, but you were afraid of getting hurt again. But you wanted to be loved so badly, and you didn’t want anyone else.

#ona batlle imagine #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagines #ona batlle angst #one batlle #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #aitana bonmati #lucy bronze #woso imagines

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queen-of-the-avengers · 11 months

Text

Whatever It Takes

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: angst, hating loki for what he's done, only one bed trope

Summary: You hate Loki and everything he stands for. He ruined a bunch of lives, and you don't want to hear some bullshit on how the mind stone influenced him. He knows he's not a bad person, and he has to figure out a way to prove that to you.

Squares Filled: “god, if only you knew what you did to me.” (2021) for @lokibingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

You take some puzzle books and shove them into your bag along with some coloring books and markers. Where you’re going is known to have spotty Wi-Fi service despite you having the best service, so you’re making sure to bring something to do when you can’t get online. The last thing you put into your bag is noise-canceling headphones so you don’t have to listen to Loki yap the whole time.

The thought of him makes you so angry. You slam your headphones into your bag and zip it up angrily. You’re more than happy to go on missions for the team, but you’re not happy with going on missions that Loki is going on. Even worse, you two are going to be alone for this one. This is a highly sensitive mission that can only have a couple of people on it, and they chose you and him.

You haul your bag to the living room where Natasha and Tony are waiting for you. Loki is still getting ready but he can take his fucking time. You don’t like Loki and you’re not shy about it. Everyone, including him, knows your dislike for him.

“Where’s the fire?” Nat asks when you stomp past her.

“I don’t know why I’m going on this mission. Why can’t you go?”

“You can hack your way through anything. Right now, we need that skill. I’m not a hacker. I kill things to get what I want. You sneak in the back door.”

“Okay, why does he have to go?”

“He’s a master of illusions. You’re the perfect pair.”

“Don’t call us that,” you roll your eyes. “It’s bad enough I have to go with him, but going alone? Why do I have to be alone with him? Come with us.”

“You know why we can’t. The less people, the better. It’s only for a week. You can handle being with him for a week. I’ll even take your next two missions for you.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “Let’s get this over with. Loki! Hurry up!”

Loki appears seconds after you call him with his bag slung over his shoulder. He knows you don’t like him. You make sure everyone knows it whenever you’re within close proximity to him. He doesn't feed into your dislike because that would only egg you on so he silently takes whatever you give to him. It’s cute how angry you can get at him.

Your anger is justifiable. After all, he is the one who fucked with New York and brought an alien race to kill humans. He took Clint and used him as a puppet for his own greed. He killed eighty people in two days. He’s the one who let the Dark Elves into Asgard, causing a war to be brought to Earth. He’s not a good person despite him telling you over and over again that the mind stone influenced him for most of it.

“Have fun, you two,” Tony smirks, “but not too much fun.”

“Gag me,” you roll your eyes. “It’s not going to happen.”

You take your bag to the car while Loki stays behind with Nat and Tony.

“Be gentle with her. I don’t need her coming back in pieces.”

“I’ll check in in a few days,” Loki chuckles and walks out to the car. You fit your bag in the trunk leaving just enough room for Loki’s bag. He heaves it into the car and shuts the trunk. “Give me the keys.”

“Hell no. I’m driving.”

“Darling, you’re a terrible driver.”

“No, I’m not, and I’m not going to let you drive. I don’t trust you behind the wheel with my life in your hands. I’m driving and you can back the fuck off.”

Loki could have won this entire argument if he wanted to, but he’ll let you have this one. If you two are going to be stuck with each other for a week, he’s gonna have to pick his battles around you. This won’t be the only fight and it certainly isn’t the last.

You two pile into the car, and you’re off. Loki turns to you to say something but you immediately turn the music on so you can’t hear him. Loki sighs and lets you have your tantrum, but he does want to talk to you. He lowers the music to speak but you cut him off.

“Let’s get one thing straight, shall we? We’re doing this mission together but that’s all this is. The mission. I don’t want to talk to you unless it’s work-related. Got it?”

“You’ve got to talk to me sooner or later about something else.”

“I choose later,” you smile sweetly and turn the music up again.

Tony is responsible for your shelter and he picks the worst fucking place on the planet. The motel he chose is run-down and old with the sidewalk chopped up, the paint in the parking lots is so faded it’s hard to tell where the next parking spot is, the building looks like it’s going to collapse any second, and the numbers on the doors are no longer there. Only a faded shadow of what was.

The inside isn’t much better, but what did you expect? The people you’re targeting are weapons dealers who choose places like this for a reason. No one would go looking for someone if they were here. Tony is one of your good friends but you’ve always hated his sense of humor. If you call him now, he’s going to say it’s a mistake on his part because there is only one bed. One bed that you and Loki have to share.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you huff out in anger.

“It’s only a bed, love,” Loki says and walks inside.

“I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Be my guest.”

It’s already too late to do anything so you two get ready for bed. You grab two pillows and drop them on the floor. This isn’t going to be very comfortable but you’ll do it if it means not sharing a bed with Loki. After you brush your teeth, Loki prepares to take a shower. He closes the door before he gets undressed, and you glance over in curiosity. He hasn’t closed the door all the way so you can see him through the sliver.

His back is turned to you but damn, it’s a muscular back. He may be lean but he has well-defined muscles. Thor likes to show his off while Loki is more reserved. His pale skin glistens in the dim glow of the bathroom light, and you look away before he catches you staring. Yes, he’s quite handsome for a God. You’re not blind, you have eyes. No, stop it. He’s a bad person. He’s not handsome.

You shake your head and grab the top blanket layer on the bed to get comfortable. Your back is going to hurt the whole time you’re here but you refuse to sleep on the same bed as him. Loki finishes his shower quickly and quickly changes into silk pajamas. Of course, this motherfucker would have silk pajamas.

He walks out as he’s drying his hair and scoffs when he sees you on the ground.

“Really? You’re going to sleep on the floor?”

“Yes, now go to bed.”

“You can have the bed.”

“No, you take it. I’m fine down here,” you say stubbornly.

Loki sighs and doesn't argue as he gets into bed. An hour after the lights are out, you’re no closer to sleep than you were before. Every time you move, you end up knocking some part of your body onto the cold ground, and it’s starting to piss Loki off.

“Darling, come up here,” Loki finally says.

“No.”

“I will pick you up off this floor and tie you to the bed if you don’t get in it yourself.” If you’re being honest, the thought turns you on. He will make good on his promise so you stand up and transfer the pillows and blanket to the bed. You get in it but stay at the very edge. There is no way you’re going to be touching him in any way. “You’re being a child.”

“Shut up and go to bed.” You close your eyes to get some sleep when you feel his cold hand on your skin. Chills run down your spine but you’re not sure if it’s from how cold he is or if you’re turned on. You quickly slap his hand away before you get your answer. “Don’t touch me.”

Loki chuckles and lays on his back. An hour later, he can hear your soft snores that he finds adorable. Knowing he’s safe, he grabs your waist and pulls you into him. Subconsciously, you snuggle into him which makes him smile. He runs the back of his finger down your cheek gently so as to not wake you up.

“God, if only you knew what you did to me,” he mutters.

He has to find a way to make you see he’s not a bad guy, and he’ll do it for the rest of his life if that’s what it takes.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#loki #loki x reader #loki fic #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki fiction #loki fan fiction #loki fan fic #loki angst #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fan fic #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel fiction

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daydaydayrk420 · 18 days

Note

So basically...

Could I please request a fluff smut with a male reader and Tony Stark where Tony wants to have sex with reader (for the first time) but when he asks reader about it reader feels conflicted and uncomfortable about it thanks to his trauma? To the point of breaking down?

Tony is sorry and comforts him, telling him they don't have to do anything. Reader calms down and tells him he would love to but he doesn't know...how. He was never loved and never loved anyone, never had sex, etc.

So Tony takes it as a challenge to make him as comfortable as possible, talk to him, comfort him, love him and stuff and they both make the most loving and mind blowing sex? Ofc reader's the top and Tony the bottom.

Backstory: Reader used to be a soldier on his home planet, but his people lost in the last one, the remaining got locked up, tortured and killed. He thankfully escaped and ended up on earth. Avengers found him (after causing a mass hysteria that there's a feral devil on the loose) and gave him a safe space under the condition he would become an Avenger. Through his time recovering he got close to Tony who was curious about his kind/race and story (also because he's a huge hot buffed guy).

Reader comes off as cold, stoic, almost insensitive, but it's just him not tolerating bullshit. He's also not naive or dumb.

Reade's not a monster ofc, he's just been through a lot. In reality he's a loyal, kind, loving and gentle gigant.

Tony also likes him because he laughs at his stupid jokes (they both gossip and hate on Steve), listens to him and they both understand each other because both know how it feels to be the black sheep and unlovable. They hit it so well together they started "dating".

Reader never was in love and could never be with someone, have sex or have a family, being stripped of such privileges because he was only a soldier, just a tool to kill and win battles, if you survive you survive, you die and you die. Sex was also used as a tool to only make children or as a way to punish or reward someone (not him). The saddest thing was that he thought, from the day he was born, that this was the way of living and he never questioned it. His time on earth ofc changed it, Tony changed it.

Thank you for the opportunity love~! ❤️

God dayum. You sure you don't want to start a blog too? XD

My first request!! I'll try my best!! And thank you for all the details I won't have to write XD

How do I do this

Tony stark X male reader

⚠️trauma, first time, soft sex, bottom Tony, top male reader, marking, creampie⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

______________________________________________________________

Screams.

That's all he hears when he sleeps.

Which is what he's hearing right now. He can't help but thrash around in the bed. Mumbling soft pleas for silence.

"Y/n" Tony mumbles as he rubs his eyes. He looks at the sleeping giant. Sleeping is a strong word.

Tony and Y/n have somehow become a couple. It started with Tony calling him Winter Soldier 2.0. Then Tony changed his mind about his cold and lifeless demeanor when he heard him laugh at a poorly made joke. Since then Tony has been making jokes left and right just so he could hear that laugh again. One day they were the only ones in the tower so Tony used it as an excuse to get to know him.

They actually share a lot in common. They both have trauma and absent fathers, and they both hate Steve.

They've gotten so close they practically became a couple but they never really specified it.

"Y/n" Tony calls out again to try and wake the giant. Y/N only grunts in response and twitches in his sleep. Tony leans over and kisses his forehead. Y/n sits up wide-eyed and looks around.

"Easy big guy. It's just me." Tony took his hand. Y/N lets out a sigh and lays down. He runs a hand over his face in frustration. Tony lays his head on the giant's chest and traces his faint scars. Y/n closes his eyes and rests his free hand on the smaller man's head.

"Your planet?" Tony asks even though he already knows an answer. Y/n just nods not wanting to talk about it. Y/n's home planet is probably dead by now. He doubts anyone is left.

Tony kisses his chest gently. Y/n tenses not used such care or touch in general. He only started sleeping in Tony's room two days ago. So this position is new to him. Why is he shirtless? He sleeps without his shirt in this weather. Which gives Tony more access of course.

Tony caresses the giant's chest and lulls him to sleep.

The next morning y/n wakes up to breakfast in bed. Tony is making sure the tray is secure and stable as y/n moves. "Morning sleepyhead." Y/n only response with a soft hum. He's still a bit disoriented.

"I made you some pancakes." Tony smiled and sat down next to him. "Did you or did you hire a chef?" Y/n jokes. Tony shrugs. They both know he can't cook.

The day goes on like any other. There's no missions to go through so the tower is pretty calm. Most of the people are either home or somewhere at the park. But Tony and y/n are in the tower. Watching TV. "Baby?" Tony's voice suddenly calls out and grabs Y/N's attention. He looks down at the smaller man and tilts his head.

Tony is looking at him with something in his eyes the giant doesn't understand.

"Can we have sex?" Tony asks bluntly. The giant is stunned. His eyes widen as he looks at the younger man with uncertainty. "Tony i-" "please?" Tony begged with puppy eyes. The giant shakes his head. "I don't know..."

Tony tilts his head. Trying to understand what's wrong and why he doesn't like the idea.

Y/n looks at Tony. "I was never in a relationship Tony. Everything we do is new to me. Including that." His confession made Tony's eyes widen. He never thought of that as a possibility. But considering y/n was raised as a soldier since day one was an understatement. Tony lets out a quiet "oh.." as he thinks of all the possibilities his unofficial lover would be comfortable with.

"I won't force you into anything. But I will make it my mission to make you as comfortable with it as possible." Tony said with determination. The giant smiles. He feels warm in his chest as he realizes how different his current life is. And how Tony makes it better.

Tony kept his word and every day he made the baby steps forward. He started with more physical touch. Holding hands whenever he could. Running his hand over the giant's shoulder, giving massages, high fives when he was playful. Which of course made y/n make use of his height and always put his hand high up so Tony had to jump up. He was getting more comfortable.

Then he started giving more kisses. Pecks on the cheek. Morning pecks on the lips when the giant wouldn't want to wake up. Pecks on the chest or anywhere Tony could reach when the gentle giant didn't want to bend down. Sometimes Tony would climb on a desk to be on eye level with y/n. The giant found that amusing. And adorable.

Then he started to show his body more. Y/n is used to sleeping shirtless and sometimes in just his boxers. But Tony? This is unusual for him. He starts off by wearing more revealing clothes. Like a thin tank top. Or a band crop top. Then he started sleeping without pants with only a large shirt and loose boxers. He made sure to cuddle with the giant so he could get used to their skin touching. Then he removed the shirt and started only sleeping in his boxers.

And now? He walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing and laid on the bed like nothing was unusual. Y/n on the other hand is staring. Not with hunger. But with confusion. He didn't realize he was staring but Tony knew. He was filled with butterflies as he thought that this could be the night.

"Did you forget to wash your laundry again?" Y/n asks with genuine curiosity and confusion. Tony can't help but laugh at his boyfriend's cluelessness. "No. I've been getting hot in bed recently with the summer heat so I decided to shed some clothes." Tony lied. Well not really. It is pretty hot but the actual truth as to why he's naked is that he wants his lover to get comfortable with the nudity.

"Oh." The giant looks ahead of himself as he thinks that it's a good idea. It is pretty hot tonight. He removes the sheets and stands up. Tony watches with curiosity. Y/n removes his boxers too. Tony shamelessly looks down. And he is very satisfied with the view. He knows his boyfriend is a giant. But he didn't imagine it being that big.

Tony feels his dick get hard against the mattress. He blushes and stays lying on his belly. He doesn't want y/n to be uncomfortable.

But he didn't realize that the giant had gotten used to their every nightcuddles he would notice how he was not already throwing his tiny arms around him as soon as he laid down.

"Tony?" Y/n asks confused. Tony snaps out of it and looks at the giant. He didn't realize he had laid down next to him. "Yeah?" His voice comes out shaky.

"Are you alright?" The giant runs his hand over the smaller man's back. He felt the sudden shiver his touch caused and raised an eyebrow. Tony buried his face in the pillow. He doesn't know why he's feeling like this. He's been with both men and women before obviously. But y/n's touch had a different effect on his body than anyone else. Y/n realizes what's happening. But he doesn't stop. No. His body is screaming for more. So his hand moves on its own. Lower. And lower.

Tony moans into the pillow which only fuels the giant's needs. The giant watches his hand move as he contemplates the situation. But he kept going. Until he reached the curve of Tony's ass. Tony whines as the hand stops. "Why'd you stop?" His voice is quiet and shaky as he lifts his head from the pillow. He looks at the gentle giant and pauses. He can see the hesitation. He can practically hear the cogwheels breaking.

"Hey." He sits up and takes Y/N's hands. He looks into his eyes and smiles softly. "We don't have to do it." He said softly as he caressed the giant's knuckles. The giant in return was staring at the smaller man's body. The way his dick was hard and yet he's still saying that it's okay to leave it. He looks Into the smaller man's eyes. "I want to..." He whispers. Tony's heart exploded.

"Are you sure?" He has to make sure. He'd be lying if he would be disappointed if he said no. But fuck does he need him. And he knows forcing it won't do anything. The giant nods. But Tony wants to hear it. He needs to hear it. "Use your words big guy." Tony whispered as he kneeled and leaned closer. Y/n'd eyes fall to his lips. "I need you." That's all Tony needs for his mind to go blank and his lips fall against the giants.

Y/n is fast to respond. His larger hand is cupping the smaller man's cheek as he deepens the kiss. Tony moans and wraps his arms around the bigger man's shoulders. The giant takes his time and slowly moves his hands down the smaller man's boy. He wants to memorize everything. Every inch of his skin.

"Tony..." Y/n moaned. Tony's knees buckled. He always imagined him moaning his name but he didn't think it would affect him that much.

All he knows is that he doesn't want it to end. Once the giant's hands reach the smaller man's thighs he slowly lowers him onto the bed.

They separate for air. Tony looks up with cloudy eyes and shivers once he sees the primal hunger staring dead at him. Even if his eyes are hungry, he can still see their gentle care.

Y/n kisses down to his chest and gently marks it. "Do you uh... Do you have any lu-" Before he can finish Tony is already pulling lube from under his pillow and handing it to him. The giant chuckles and takes it.

He wets his fingers. He reaches down and barely circles Tony's hole. Even if it's a featherlight touch it makes his stomach burst with butterflies. Y/n watches every reaction as he does what feels right. He carefully inserts the first digit of his middle finger.

Judging by Tony's whines he assumes he's doing it right. So he moves his finger around and pushes further in whenever the tight ring of muscle will allow him.

Tony whines and moves his hips against the giant finger. He may be going slow and easy but his larger fingers make it feel like he stuffed in two at once.

"Oh my fucking god." He groans and arches his back. Y/n stops and looks at the smaller man with worry. "Did I hurt you?" He starts to pull his finger out but Tony growls. "Don't you fucking stop." Y/N hesitates. He's never seen him like this. He doesn't like it. It feels like an order and that makes him uncomfortable. He doesn't pull his finger out but he doesn't move it either. Tony realizes what he said and forces himself to relax. "Please don't stop." This time his voice is more gentle and pleading.

Y/n looks through Tony's eyes. He relaxes and slowly moves his finger again. Tony lets out a really high-pitched moan. He moves his hips against the giant hand asking for more. So the giant slowly adds a second one.

Y/n keeps watching Tony making sure he's doing everything right and that he's comfortable. Tony is not here with his mind. He's too focused on the large fingers stretching him out. If this is how he feels from the fingers he doesn't want to know how pathetic he'll be once he gets the real deal.

"Please please please please" Tony whimpers for more. Y/n doesn't know what he's begging for so he only adds a third finger. Tony groans and arches his back. He knows he has to be stretched well for a man his size. But fuck was he getting impatient. He has to wait, for y/n's sake and comfort.

"Are you feeling good?" Y/n asks and gently moves his three fingers. Tony wants to laugh but all that comes out are moans. "SO good."

The giant nods and speeds up a bit. He also is getting impatient.

Tony basically crumbles in his hands as his fingers hit the right spot that makes him see stars. "Tony I need you" Y/n whines as he begs for permission to get on top. Tony whines too. "I need you too."

That's all it takes for Y/N to remove his fingers and tower over the smaller man. He pauses a bit to admire how Tony looks. Eyes half-lidded and face flush with pink.

Y/n suddenly realizes what's happening and is filled with hesitation again. Does Tony actually want this? Does he want it? Does Tony have a box of condoms somewhere? Do they even make his size?

"Y/n?" Tony's concerned voice snaps him out of his thoughts. Y/n looks at him. "Hm?" He whispered. Tony reached up to caress his cheek. "We don't have to if you're not ready." His voice is soft and sweet.

Y/N takes a deep shaky breath. They have already gone so far.

"Should we use a condom?" Y/n whispers. Tony relaxes and lets out a chuckle. "I don't think I have one your size big guy." The giant lets out a small chuckle at Tony's teasing.

He grabs the lube and squirts some into his hand. He makes sure to lube himself up as best as he can. Tony shivers as he realizes that's about to be inside him. He grabs a pillow and rests it under his hips.

Y/n adds a little bit more lube to the smaller man's hole and throws the bottle aside. He lines up and looks up into the smaller man's eyes. He waits for permission. Tony also looks up and nods.

The giant slowly slides the tip in. Shivers go through his whole body at the unfamiliar sensations. His mind goes blank as he keeps pushing in. A soft whimper from Tony snaps him out of his daze and makes him freeze in the spot. He looks up at the smaller man's face afraid he hurt him. The smaller man shifts a bit getting used to the larger size. He's been with men who got lucky with their sizes before but never like this. Which is obvious considering that the man is a literal giant from a different planet.

Tony whines and holds his abdomen. Y/n gives him time to adjust. In the meantime, he caresses and kisses the smaller man's body.

"I'm good." Tony breathes out. The giant nods and slowly pulls out and then slowly pushes back in. He repeats that multiple times until he finally bottoms out. They both let out loud moans. Y/n moans because of the new feeling. And Tony moans out because of the large bulge that has appeared under his hand.

"Oh my god, you feel so good, Tony." The giant moans as he rests his forehead on the smaller man Tony uses his free hand to run it through the larger man's hair. "You feel amazing Y/n."

They just hold each other like that until Tony commands for more.

The giant nods and slowly pulls out and then slowly pushes back in. He moves slowly. Pouring all his love and passion into his touches and kisses. Tony whines and begs for more but the giant never complies. It's his first time and he wants to memorize everything about it. Y/n angles his hips trying to find the right spot that makes Tony let out one of the sweetest sounds he's ever heard. You'd think that with a size like that, he'd be hitting it every time. You're not wrong but it does take a certain angle for the actual pleasure to spread through Tony's body.

So he finds the perfect angle and makes sure to hit it every time he can. Tony becomes a whimpering mess. His nails are clawing at the bigger man's back and his back arches right into Y/n's touch. The way his back is arched gives the giant better access to kiss and mark his body. Y/n never gave anyone a hickey. Only bruises. But it¨s basically the same thing. Right? So he does anything he can think of that would make a hickey. He bites harder than just a nibble but that only leaves a love bite. He licks it and that reminds him of how Tony gave him a hickey once. He remembers he sucked on the skin. so he does just that.

He sucks in a good chunk of Tony's pec and bites it too for a longer effect. Tony practically screams out in ecstasy.

"Oh my god, you're so deep. How are you so deep." Tony moans and keeps resting his hand right above the abdomen. Y/n can only grunt out in response as he holds him close. His body is tingling in multiple places. He doesn't know why but he doesn't want it to stop.

"oh fuck fuck fuck fuck wait-" Before Tony can call out in time he's covering his belly in white sticky streaks. Y/n only watches in amazement at how Tony's body can squirt and squirm in his arms. But he's nowhere close. Not that he can tell. He wants to continue but thinks he should give the poor man a break. So he slows his thrusts. Tony is blissed out of his mind but the moment the thrusts slow more than they already make him snap out of it.

"Don't stop." Tony calls out in panic. He doesn't want this night to end yet. The giant hasn't even cummed yet! Of course, he doesn't want to stop. "Please don't stop." He pleaded instead of ordering around. Y/n nods and starts to move again. Tony's body shakes as it's slowly being overstimulated.

But he only begs for more. And the giant gives him more. His chest is covered in large deeply colored hickeys.

"Yes yes yes yes." Tony chants with shaky breaths as he shakes with extreme and pleasurable overstimulation.

It takes everything in y/n to hold back the urge to rut into the smaller man. But he keeps fighting his urges because he wants this night to be the night when he takes care of Tony.

Tony's nails dig deep enough into the bigger man's back. Which causes the giant to groan out. He can feel the blood on his back but he doesn't care. He loves how everything feels. How he feels. How his Tony feels. His Tony. His. "Mine" Y/n growls out before he can think and marks the small spots of Tony's skin that haven't been marked yet.

The smaller man grips onto the giant's hair and cries out. His body is so sensitive it's overwhelming. "Holly fuck!"

Y/n starts to feel a tingling sensation in his abdomen. Is this it? Is he close? "Tony" He moans. "I think I'm close." He whines and buries his face in the smaller man's neck. Tony whimpered and wrapped his shaky and barely working legs around the bigger mans hips. "Me too."

Y/n manages to give a couple more deep thrusts before that tingling sensation in his abdomen changes into a warm feeling that spreads throughout his body as he spills himself into Tony. He moans loudly and drops his head. His forehead rests on Tony's chest who's also shivering from his climax. The overstimulation has caused to make Tony to squirm more than before which made his streeks of cum reach further and some even reached y/n's cheek. Which only gets him to chuckle and lift his head up to look at the art under him. He smiles to himself as he watches how Tony uncontrollably whimpered and shook.

Eventually Y/n finally pulled out and left to grab something to clean up with.

Tony's arms fall to his stomach. His eyes fall closed and a small smile forms on his face. He feels a bit bloated with how much y/n has cummed but oh god does he love it.

The gentle giant returns with a warm wet rug and crawls back into bed to clean the smaller man up. But he stops once he sees how happy Tony looks as he holds his belly. He admires him for a while. Tony's hair is a mess, his eyes are closed, he's smiling so sweetly, and his chest is covered in large hickeys. Y/n can also feel how his back is burning from the multiple scratches the smaller man left behind. Especially the deeper ones. He gently touches Tony's dick to clean him up which makes his body jolt. "You're so responsive." He chuckles. Tony mumbled. "I'm so overstimulated every little touch will make my body jump." He responds tiredly but there's no annoyance behind his words. Only satisfaction and bliss.

Once they're both clean Y/n lays down. But his back burns with immediate protest which makes him wince and flip onto his stomach. Tony turns his head and looks at the bigger man with worry. His eyes widen once he sees the scratched red marks he left behind. "Oh god, I'm so sorry." Y/n chuckles at his reaction and turns his head to the side to face him. "I like it." That made Tony relax. He wants to so desperately move closer and cuddle the larger man but his body wouldn't respond even if he tried.

"Cuddles in the morning then?" He teased. The giant chuckles in response but nods. "Happily."

Before they both fell asleep Y/n spoke up with a sleepy tone. "Will you be my boyfriend?" Tony lets out a sleepy chuckle and responds with also a sleepy tone. "Of course, I will numbnuts."

They both fell asleep with goofy smiles on their faces.

#top male reader #x male reader smut #male reader #tony stark x male reader

110 notes · View notes

scoonsalicious · 6 months

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Unwanted: Chapter 13, Uncomfortable - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, the last straw, arguing, violence, Sexually Explicit Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (angry/rough PIV, fingering, degradation kink), memories of past CSA, self harm, Bucky really, really fucks up.

Word Count: 4k

Previously On...: Tony sent you a very expensive apology gift.

A/N: Ya’ll are getting this early! Just one thing to say:

I am so, so sorry.

Coincidentally, this is getting posted on the day I'll be coming home from NoLa, so I'll arrive just in time to hear you all say how much you now hate me. Yay. -_-

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @doublejeon @pattiemac1

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, lost in the dark colors, the reflection of the moonlight over the water. The sound of the door opening broke through your thoughts, and you turned to see Bucky shuffle into the room.

“Hey, sweets,” he said, toeing off his boots.

“Hey,” you said without emotion, turning your face back to the painting.

“Whacha lookin’ at?” he asked, coming to sit next to you on the couch.

“Apology gift from Tony.”

“What’s he apologizing to you for?” God, you couldn’t even muster up the energy to be angry at him.

“Calling out your unhealthy obsession with Jade in front of the team,” you said, voice flat.

“I do not have an unhealthy obsession with Vix,” Bucky said, annoyance coloring his words. “How many times do I have to tell you there’s nothing going on between the two of us before you start believing me.”

“Maybe you should stop telling me there’s nothing and start actually acting like there’s nothing,” you said as you stood up. “Because honestly, I’m tired of hearing your empty words.” You began to walk away, but Bucky reached out and grabbed your arm.

“They aren’t empty, Pocket!” he said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it filled the room as if he’d shouted. “It fucking hurts like hell to hear you say that.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You couldn’t help the sarcasm that oozed from your voice now. “Your feelings are hurt now, so that changes everything. Let me put aside the pain I’ve been dealing with for months to reassure you.” You yanked your hand free from his grasp. “I’m exhausted, Bucky. Nothing is getting better. In fact, things are getting worse, and I keep pretending that I can be okay with things, but you just keep picking her over me, time and time again. I don’t deserve that. Not from someone who’s supposed to love me.”

“Pick her over you? That’s fucking bullshit and you know it,” he said, voice rising.

“Is it?” you asked him. You pointed to the corner where your overnight bags sat waiting for a trip you’d never take. “Is that bullshit, Bucky? Cause we were supposed to be in the Catskills right now, but because that fucking cunt came crying for you, you went running to her and left me sitting here, alone and forgotten. Again.”

“Pocket,” Bucky ran a hand over the back of his neck, a sure sign you were ruffling him. “She needed someone to support her. She’s not like you– she doesn’t–”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Barnes!” you interrupted, shouting now. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m breaking up with you because of her and you still just stand there and defend her!”

Bucky’s face paled and his eyes went wide. “No,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“What?” You weren’t sure you heard him.

“I said ‘no,’” he said, his voice louder, but still soft. “You're not breakin' up with me. Doll, please. I need you. You said you were gonna fight for us, fight for me. That’s what you said!”

“I’m so tired of fighting for you when you’re off fighting for her! I can’t do this anymore, Bucky,” you practically sobbed. “You are fucking destroying me and feel like you just. don’t. care. I can’t just sit here and let it keep happening. You say you need me, but you’ve made it clear time and time again that you don’t give a shit about what I need. Every time I’ve asked you to put a boundary between you and Carthage, you’ve stomped right over it. And I can’t keep living like this. Yesterday was supposed to be a celebration of one of the greatest accomplishments of my career, and she ruined it.”

“It wasn’t her fault she got bad intel!” Bucky shouted.

“Could you just FUCKING STOP?!” you screamed. “Stop defending her! She either royally fucked up or she set them up on purpose! Those are the only two options! Either way, the entire thing was her fault. Rhodey is unconscious– almost died– because of her! She’s got you so wrapped around her fucking finger that you can’t even see it, and I am SO. GOD. DAMNED. OVER. IT! You promised me you’d make it up to me,” you continued shouting at him. “You fucking promised! But as soon as she bats her lashes, your promises don’t mean shit! You keep making excuses, you keep saying you’re sorry, but you keep doing the same fucking thing over and over again, and the only thing your actions are promising is that she means more to you than I do!”

“That’s not true!” he shouted back at you. “You mean more to me than anything!”

“I don’t fucking believe you!” you screamed, your voice going hoarse.

“I’ll fucking prove it to you!” He grabbed your elbows and pulled you to him, kissing you with such force it would have knocked you over if he hadn’t been holding you up. The moment he broke the kiss for air, you slapped him across the face. Only to immediately kiss him again.

Within seconds, you were ripping at each other’s clothes, desperate to feel one another, skin to skin, your tongues battling against each other as though whomever could dominate the kiss could win your fight. Bucky literally tore your shirt in half before you pushed him down onto your bed. Crawling on top of him, you scratched your nails down his chest, hard enough to draw blood.

Bucky hissed into your mouth, reaching down to yank off his pants and boxer briefs. You hastily pulled them down and off his legs before climbing back up to his mouth. Your kisses were passionate, angry and feral, each of you trying to prove a point to the other.

You felt both of Bucky’s hands grasp the waistband of your jeans and rip them open, sending the button and zipper teeth flying. “Those were my favorite fucking jeans,” you warned.

“I’ll buy you another pair,” he growled, shoving a hand into your panties and finding your clit. You arched your back as he pinched and rolled it between his fingers, the aggression in his movements igniting your blood. You gasped as he shoved two fingers into you while simultaneously flipping you so you were now on your back and he loomed above you.

He pulled his hand from you, leaving you aching and empty. He kissed you as he divested you of what was left of your jeans and your panties. “Taste yourself,” he said, shoving his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them, savoring the tang of your essence on his skin. Bucky groaned at the sight before pulling his fingers out and kissing you again.

“You’re mine,” he growled, grabbing at your breasts and roughly kneading the flesh. “Look at me, Pocket. You’re mine.” You turned your head away, not wanting to meet his eyes, but Bucky would have none of it. Gripping your chin tight enough to leave a bruise, he yanked your head back so you were looking him in the eye. “I said, you’re mine.” He entered you then, the force of it nearly splitting you in half. “You’re mine and I’m fucking yours. Forever.”

He pounded into you as if his very life depended on it, and you clutched at his shoulders for dear life. “God, yes, Bucky,” you cried, all your resolve finally leaving you as the pleasure rose within you. “I’m yours, and you’re mine. Only mine. Only fucking mine!”

With a roar, Bucky picked up one of your legs and draped it over his shoulder, the new angle allowing him to hit you deeper as he drove into you. His thrusts were punishing, as though he were trying to see just how deep he could get himself inside of you before you actually broke in two.

"You like that?" he murmured as he rutted his hips into you.

"Fuck, yes, please, Bucky-- just like that," you moaned. He had you close. So, so close. "Keep going."

"Yeah, I thought so, you dirty slut," he grunted.

"What?" you asked, pulling your head back into the pillow so you could stare at him, wide-eyed as he continued to pound relentlessly into you. His words had taken you aback-- this was not something your loving boyfriend had ever said to you before. You dropped one leg from around his waist and tried to pull the other from his shoulder.

"Knew you loved taking my cock. God, you're such a filthy whore for me."

"Bucky, stop." You pushed gently against his chest, but he was already so far gone to his lust that he didn't seem to hear you.

"Such a good fucktoy for me," he grunted, his pace quickening as he neared his release. You felt your breath coming hard and fast now, but not from your impending climax, which had died with his words, but from an oncoming anxiety attack. “You goin’ dumb on me already, like a good little cockslut?”

Flashes of your miserable childhood flickered through your head, the way Darren would call you his "good little money-making whore" after you'd been raped by yet another of his clients, or when he decided to violate you himself, calling you his own personal slut, his special fuck toy.

"Bucky," you shouted, punching him with your fists, desperate now to get him off you, out of you. "Stop! Get off of me! GET OFF OF ME!" You screamed, thrashing at him. You saw the moment your words registered-- his eyes lost their haze of lust and his hips stopped pumping into you.

"Doll?" he asked, looking down on you in confusion. "What's wr--"

"Get off me, get off me, get off me!" you shrieked as you rolled out from under him, your entire body suddenly on fire with shame and disgust. The second your feet hit your bedroom floor, you were reaching for your silk robe, wrapping yourself in it as though the thin fabric could protect you from his words. From him.

"Pocket," Bucky watched your movements, his eyes betraying his bewilderment at your actions. "What's going on? What did I do?"

"Why would you call me that?" you asked, your words coming out in between your desperate gasps for air. "Why would you say those things?"

Bucky sat up, reaching for you, but you moved away from him. "Baby, what things? What did I s--" Realization dawned on him then, and his entire face fell. "Shit. Oh, God. Oh, Pocket. Sweetheart, I am so sorry. I didn't think--"

"Why would you say that, Bucky?" you asked, fighting back the tears that so desperately wanted to break free. "You've never called me a-a-..." you couldn't even get the word out. "How could you do that?"

"Fuck, Baby..." Bucky began, running his hands through his hair in response to your distress, "I never... I thought you'd like it. I should have realized, after Darren..."

"Don't say his name!" You hadn't meant to shout at him, but you were damned if you were going to invite the ghost of your tormentor into the sanctuary of your room. "Please," you cried, "don't say his name."

Bucky got up and tried to wrap his arms around you, but you pulled away, feeling too vile, too dirty, to even let him touch you.

"Sweetheart, please," he began, reaching for you again, "you're shaking. Let me hold you." You shook your head as you moved away from him yet again, trying to steady yourself.

"Where did that even come from, Bucky? Why would you think... What would even make you think that was something I would want?"

Bucky's hand went to rub the back of his neck as he looked up at you from behind his lashes. "I... I heard girls... like that sort of thing. That it turns them on."

"You can't just start it out of nowhere," you cried, "It's something you need to agree on first! You can't just say it without making sure your partner's okay with it! And I can't believe you'd ever think I would be okay with it! God, who even told you that?" You couldn't imagine any of Bucky's friends saying something like that to him; hell, Steve would have a coronary before even suggesting it. Did he read about it in some degrading kink group online?

"I was talking to Vix, and she said--"

"You what?" you spun to face him, your words sharp in your shock.

"Vixen. Jade. I was talking to her during training one time and she said girls like it when guys talk to them like that during sex. Well, she said she likes it. Said it, uh, turns her on."

Your entire body froze as if you'd been doused with ice water. "You were talking to Jade Carthage about sex and what gets her off." Your voice was hard and clipped. It wasn't even a question, just a statement that made your stomach twist, but you had to make sure you had understood him correctly.

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad," Bucky hemmed, "but sweets, I swear, it wasn't like that."

You called for FRIDAY to turn up the lights, no longer wanting to be trapped in the intimacy of the semi-darkness with him.

"It wasn't like that? Then please enlighten me, Bucky, what was it like? Jesus, how did you two even stumble into that conversation in the first place?"

"Baby," Bucky looked frantic as he grabbed his boxer briefs from the floor and tugged them back on, "I don't even remember how we got on the subject. We were sparring and I pinned her and--"

"You had a conversation about sex while you were lying on fucking top of her?" You could barely contain your rage; you were seething, about to vibrate out of your skin with revulsion.

"Honey, it's not that big of a deal, really."

"Not that big of a deal?" you asked, knowing you were about to tread into some very dangerous territory, but needing him to understand you. "So, it wouldn't be that big of a deal if I let Steve get on top of me and had him tell me what gets him hard? What makes him come?"

Bucky's jaw tightened immediately at the mention of Steve. "Don't," he growled. "Do not bring him into this. It's completely different."

"It's not, Bucky! It's a thousand times worse! God," you threw your arms above your head as you began to pace in front of your bed. "I can't tell if you're actually this naive or if you think I'm fucking stupid."

"I don't think you're stupid, Pocket," Bucky's voice was quieter now, more restrained. "I... God, I just messed up. I'm an idiot. I didn't think it through and..." He trailed off and slumped onto the edge of the bed, his hands pushed into his hair as he stared down at the floor.

You could see his muscles craving to pull you back into his arms, but he resisted. His eyes flickered to you before darting away again, like looking at you caused him physical pain.

"Do you want to sleep with her? Were you imagining her while you were fucking me?" It was a reckless question to ask--a question that you didn’t want the answer to--but it slipped out before you could stop it.

Bucky's head whipped up, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at you. "What? No!" He stood abruptly, hands outstretched towards you. "Baby, no! God, no! I would never... I can't even believe you'd think... Don't even talk like that."

"But you took her kinks, her turn ons, and you brought them into our bed. You spoke words you knew another woman-- a woman you know I fucking loathe-- wanted to hear, you... you used them on me, knowing my history, and you didn't give a shit about what saying them might do to me!" Your voice was trembling with accusation, your body shaking with tremors of hurt and betrayal.

"No! No, sweetheart... it wasn't like that." He kept repeating himself, his words rushed, his face pale with shock and regret. "I didn't mean to disrespect you like that. I heard her say it and I thought... I mean, she's a woman too, right? So, if she liked it, I thought maybe you..." He trailed off, his expression one of sheer desperation as he tried to find the right words.

"But I'm not her. It wasn’t about pleasing me; it was about using what pleases her." You shook your head harshly, a lump forming in your throat. "You don't even see how wrong that is. And you shouldn't even have been having the conversation with her in the fucking first place!"

"What can I do?" Bucky pleaded, his voice a strained whisper as he raked his fingers through his hair again. His face was etched with pain, regret seeping from every pore of him. "How can I fix this? Tell me how to make it right."

But you were too overcome by anger and heartbreak to think straight. You moved further away from him, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you were trying to shield your heart from further damage.

“What did you tell her?” you asked, but Bucky looked at you with confusion etched across his face. “You said it was a conversation. I’m assuming she didn’t do all the talking. What did you talk about? Did you tell her what gets you off? What you like? Were you sharing intimate details about our sex life with a complete outsider? Did you tell her about your ‘sergeant’ kink?”

He didn’t need to speak for you to read the truth in the expression on his face.

The silence hung in the room, heavy and oppressive, as Bucky fought for words. A nerve twitched in his jaw, the only movement in his otherwise frozen face. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he finally spoke.

"I... Yes, I did," he admitted, his voice a mere whisper. "I didn't think it through. I didn't mean to... I just..."

His voice trailed off again and he sunk back onto the bed, looking completely defeated. His hands covered his face as if he were desperate to hide himself from your accusing gaze.

“Get out.” You couldn’t even stand to look at him. This was a betrayal beyond anything you’d ever have expected from him.

Bucky’s head snapped up at your words, his eyes wide with shock. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He just sat there on the edge of the bed, staring at you as though he was seeing you for the first time.

"Get out," you repeated, each word a dagger. "I can't... I can't stand to even look at you right now."

Still, Bucky didn’t move. He just sat there in stunned silence, his face pale and his eyes filled with regret.

"I said get out!" Your voice was shrill, filling the room with a chilling echo that seemed to reverberate through every fiber of your being.

Bucky flinched at your tone, and finally roused himself to his feet. He looked at you one last time, his steel-blue eyes so full of pain that it made your heart ache despite everything. For a moment, it seemed like he might say something else, like he might try to explain, but you’d had enough of his ‘explanations’ for the evening. Hell, maybe for the rest of your life.

Bucky swallowed hard, his eyes filling with a mixture of fear and dread as he nodded slowly. "Okay... yeah," he stammered. "I'll give you some space."

“No. I can’t do this anymore. I’m done, Bucky. This… this is unforgivable. We’re finished.”

"Doll," he breathed, the pet name he had given you sounding like a prayer on his lips, but a curse to your ears. "I love you... I'm sorry. I messed up, I know. But I love you."

“I don’t believe you.” You felt like your heart was being ripped apart as you watched him standing there, consumed by remorse. You had never seen him like this before, his usual charismatic confidence replaced with fearful uncertainty.

“Just go,” you whispered, turning away so you wouldn't have to see the pain in his eyes. You felt a sob rising in your throat, but you held it back, refusing to let it out while he was still there.

With every inch of him screaming resistance, Bucky walked over to the door and hesitated at the threshold. "I'll... I'll do anything to make this right, sweetheart," he promised, his voice choked with emotion. "I'll fix this... We can fix this."

But you remained silent, your back still turned to him as you tried desperately to keep your tears at bay. The sound of the door opening and closing behind him was deafening in its finality.

You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, suddenly feeling cold. The room was suddenly too big, too empty without Bucky's reassuring presence. You sunk onto the bed, burying your head in your hands as the events of the night washed over you with overwhelming force as you began to sob in earnest.

You weren't even sure what you were angriest about. He’d broken yet another promise and left you waiting, your romantic getaway forgotten so he could be by her side. He'd called you a slut and a whore. He’d discussed your sex life with Jade-- the one woman you hated above all others, and openly discussed her kinks with her, and his own desires in return. He'd forced her kinks on you without your consent.

And then there was the worst part of it all, the bit that made you feel sick and hollow: he'd failed to see what he'd done wrong.

You had thought Bucky knew you better, that he respected you more than this. You'd shared secrets and fears with him, things you'd never shared with anyone else, not even Tony. He knew your past, knew how much trust meant to you - knew how difficult it had been for you to open your vulnerabilities up to something more than just casual sex - and yet he'd violated that trust in such a profound way.

This was just beyond anything else that had come before it. You couldn’t see a way to move forward after this.

Numbly, you began to strip off the sheets from the bed, your hands shaking as you balled them up and threw them into a corner of the room. You couldn't sleep on them now, nor ever again. You couldn't bear the thought of lying down where he'd... where he'd...

Tears started to spill down your cheeks as the reality of what had happened set in. You tried to blink them away, tried to swallow down the lump in your throat. But it was too late. Tears blinded you as you moved through your space on muscle memory alone, grabbing a garbage bag from under the sink in the kitchenette and shoving the offending sheets into it to dispose of later. Boiling them in chlorine wouldn't be able to relieve them of the taint they now carried.

Once the offending sheets were securely bagged and out of sight, you stumbled your way into the bathroom. Turning the shower on as hot as it would go, you stripped from your robe and stepped under the scalding stream from the waterfall shower head.

Hissing as the water hit your body, you let yourself succumb to your emotions. You reached for your loofah and began scrubbing at your skin, doing everything in your power to wash away the intense feeling of shame that had permeated deep under your dermis. You scrubbed until your skin was red, until it was raw and cracked and bleeding, but it offered you no relief.

The sensations were familiar, the burning heat, the stinging of newly torn flesh. It had been so long since you had felt the need to ritually cleanse yourself like this, you had desperately hoped you'd finally found yourself beyond the need to do so, but just a few words from Bucky's mouth had sent you reeling backwards, back to being that worthless, vile, used up girl that no number of college degrees, fancy company titles, or board-approved computer programs could fully erase. It was in your DNA, and you couldn't escape it. You scrubbed and scrubbed until time had lost meaning.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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tetchyorchid · 5 months

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A soulmate au where the first words you say to your mate is tattooed on their skin, words can change if the meeting is postponed or delayed.

Tony grew up with the words "Dr. Stark, it is an honor to meet you. I read your latest paper!" On his arm. It was never a question that he would get his doctorate. It gave him motivation when school was boring. It made him stay invested in being active in the scientific community after Ironman. He didn't even realize that the words had changed until after all the bots had been handled. Just another reason to hate Justin Hammer, his bullshit with Vanko stopped him from meeting his mate!

"It's you!" Replaced his old words, so he will meet but in ths future but he couldn't help feeling bitter.

Peter had, "God you're cute" On his finger most his life. He wondered about the type of person that says that first thing. Was it a cat call? Would they know I'm their mate? Whenever he felt insecure he remembered his mate will like him and it makes him feel better.

"Thanks for the assist spidey" appears after the expo and it doesn't make sense, not for a few months until the field trip...

Doom bots are super annoying, but it is pretty cool working with the Avengers. As we wrap up and restrain the last of them Iron man touches down near him and calls out" Thanks for the assist spidey " And Peter almost blurts out the first thing that comes to mind but hulk roars startling everyone for and giving peter a moment to think.

Deciding to be bold he walks over to Tony who has his face plate up. "You okay underoos?" Looking tony dead in his eye, Peter smirks and says, "Property of Mr. Peter Stark."

Tony isn't a genius for nothing so when he feels his arm burn and hears peter speak, he pulls back the gauntlet and laughs at the audacity! "Stark huh?"

"I'm playing the long game."

"God, you're cute!"

#starker #tnpt #soulmate words #fanfic ideas

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missvelvetsstuff · 5 months

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No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter Notes: I'm really nervous with the direction my muse has taken with this story. I hope I can pull it off. LMK what you think, please.

Previous chapter:

"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"

Chapter 3

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a jerk, Sharon Carter sucks

Cookie looked at Bucky with a deep exhaustion caused by researching all night and early morning briefings with the top agents to figure out what to do with Sharon while Bucky was her guard dog. Maria was ready to tear into him. Cookie cleared her throat to gain Maria's attention then made a small shake of her head to ask her to back down, Cookie knew she could handle Bucky by herself.

Maria nodded and left to sit in her office across the hall, leaving the door open just in case.

Cookie straightened her shoulders and sighed "How can I help you Sargent Barnes?"

Bucky glared at her breathing heavily "You know damn well how you can help me. Who the fuck do you think you are making accusations at Sharon like this?" He waved the report in her face until she grabbed it and tore it from his hands.

Holding the partially torn report Cookie stood up to her full height, her heels bringing her eye level with Bucky. She stared at him in his cold blue eyes to show him she wasn't intimidated by him, then walked around her desk to close the door "I don't think it's wise to leave the door open while we discuss top secret intelligence."

She returned to her chair "Please have a seat Sargent." took a deep breath and spoke calmly

"I think, no I'm damn sure I'm the lead east coast Intel analyst who was hand picked from Quantico by Nick Fury while you were still on ice with Hydra, who kept our intel operation running during the Blip while Nick Fury, Maria Hill and....hhmm, oh that's right, You, were all dust in the wind. None of my conclusions were specious and I followed the facts, without prejudice, as my job requires. This has less than nothing to do with your personal, ahem, entanglements. There's solid evidence to back up every claim."

Bucky shook his head "Bullshit. You've been acting put out since I rejected you and found a way to hurt me back. You obviously faked the proof. You better fucking retract this garbage and clear Sharon's name."

Cookie scoffed and shook her head "No Barnes. You're the one who lied to me and decided on your own to end our friendship but this has nothing to do with that." she turned away before he could respond and went into the filing cabinet behind her desk, pulling a thick folder from the top drawer then dropping it heavily on the desk.

"Here is all of the evidence that I have been compiling on the Power Broker since they showed on our radar during the Blip, and spent most of the night organizing. The pictures and the stack with a red paper clip all came in the mail from Latvia a few days ago, the envelope is attached, and was opened in front of Fury and Hill. The night before we received them I was on the phone with my top informant, the one who sent that package, who tried to tell me something about the power broker but was killed while on the phone. Before disconnecting a woman's voice told me to back off of the power broker or I'd be next." She played the recording of that call and others from the same informant.

Bucky shook his head "You've been doing this long enough, you could have made authentic looking evidence. Especially with all the AI stuff. Or had someone do it."

Cookie looked at him like he'd grown another head "Are you serious Barnes? You think I would ever intentionally risk the reputation and career that I've worked my ass off for my entire adult life, over a broken heart? You think that I would ruin someones life and risk legal repercussions on myself over a man? You know what this job means to me and what I've been through to get here."

Bucky hesitated with a pained look on his face and shook his head like he was trying to clear it. There was a voice in the back of his head, telling him this was all wrong but something made him push it down and keep going.

"Well, maybe one of your people is doing it. Are you even sure that informant is dead? Maybe the family is trying to get paid. Or the real power broker is smart enough to lead you to Sharon and you're all too willing to believe the worst because of me."

He paused for a minute "And I heard you call me a liar but I've never lied to you."

Cookie laughed "You sure about that? It's been awhile so I understand if your memory is failing. That morning? The last time you actually acknowledged me outside of work related, yeah you lied to me. Twice actually"

Bucky tried to remember back to that morning, something he tried to avoid because he knew he made one of the worst mistakes of his life. He shook his head to clear the image of her heartbroken face "Yeah I don't know what you're talking about."

Cookie scoffed "Of course you don't, I'm surprised you remembered my name when you came in here. First, you told me you weren't ready for a relationship but you jumped into one with Sharon before her car cooled down" Bucky opened his mouth to protest but she glared at him and he backed down "and second, you told me you loved me and wanted to stay friends but went to ignoring me before my tears dried."

She felt her eyes filling up and cursed "Fuck. You even started leaving the room if I was there. Do you know how it feels to have one of your so called best friends cut you out of their life like you were dog shit on their shoe?" She cleared her throat and wiped her tears.

"I would never frame someone, ever. No matter how I felt about them. Not even you."

Bucky stared at her then winced as though he was in severe pain and dropped his head into his palms before speaking again.

"Well something is going on somewhere because I know, in my gut that Sharon isn't the power broker. There's no way."

He picked his head up and looked at Cookie

"I'm not in a relationship with her, we're just friends. And I didn't lie, I was wrong. I thought I wanted to stay friends with you but I don't, I can't. You're always looking at me and making me feel guilty and I don't deserve that. Plus you've been nasty to Sharon since she got here, don't think she hasn't told me about the horrible comments you make to her."

Cookie laughed "This is the most we've spoken in months, I'm not doing anything to make you feel guilty. That's all on you. But Sharon has you all twisted around because she's the one making nasty comments to me."

Bucky bristled "I don't have anything to feel guilty for. I've done nothing wrong and Sharon wouldn't lie to me."

She shrugged "If you say so, I didn't say anything. Now I've given you the details and shown the evidence. What you do is on you."

Bucky stood up, winced again and shook his head "I don't know if you did it or someone you're working with but I do know someone is trying to frame Sharon and you're going along with it. I'll prove you're wrong, that's what I'm gonna do."

Cookie scoffed "Good luck with that, Barnes"

Bucky put his hands on her desk and leaned into her space, his voice quiet and cold "I'll prove you're doing this because of your jealousy and your job and reputation will be over."

Cookie spat at him "Go fuck yourself Barnes, if you think that poorly of me you obviously never knew me. I have never been anything less than thorough and professional. I guess I should be grateful you panicked and cut me out of your life before I let myself get too attached. Good luck with Carter and get the Hell out of my office."

She sat down and went back to the packets she was finishing.

Bucky stood and stared like he was expecting something to happen before turning around and stalking off to find Sharon.

He woke up in the dark, with Sharon curled into him and looked at his watch. 9pm? Not again, his last memory was yelling at Cookie after breakfast then finding Sharon but nothing after that. He decided he had enough and scheduled an appointment with medical in the morning to see if they could help him figure out why he kept losing time.

Cookie spent the rest of the day in more briefings with senior agents to discuss the Sharon Carter problem and how to negate it. Bucky Barnes attachment to Carter was discussed as well since he had already started causing trouble over the revelations and couldn't be trusted to do the right thing.

When she was asked why they couldn't just arrest Sharon and tranq Bucky if he caused a problem, Cookie told them about her concerns that Sharon had an ally in the intel department that needed to be weeded out before Sharon.

She was back in her office, cleaning up her desk for the day when Sharon Carter herself wandered in, sat down and waited expectantly for Cookie to speak.

"What can I do for you agent Carter? I'm a little busy."

Sharon smirked "I know what you're trying to do and I understand. You're in love with Barnes and he wants me. It sucks and I know you must be hurting but slandering me won't get him back. In fact he ran to me this morning to tell me what you were trying to do and wondering why you wanted to hurt him so bad. I told him I would work it out with you."

Her face turned nasty "So here's how this is gonna work. You are going to stop trying to smear my name and leave Barnes alone, he doesn't need or want you. Think you can handle that?"

Cookie kept her face blank. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, agent Carter, so get the Hell out of my office."

Sharon laughed "Don't mess with me Cookie, I'm not the girl you want to play with."

Cookie faked an exaggerated yawn "Sure Carter, I'm scared."

Sharon smirked "It doesn't matter what evidence you have, you know. Barnes won't believe you. You could record me telling you that I'm the power broker and want the Soldat to be my enforcer because that's the truth." She grinned and winked "and show it to him. He won't believe you, he's already mine." She sighed "Of course now that you're on to me I will have to adjust my plans but he will want to go with me, even beg to come to protect me from all of you.

Don't chase us little girl, you won't like what you catch."

Her grin grew to something that would rival the Joker "In fact, go ahead and show him. I know FRIDAY is recording all this so let's go and show him. I want you to see how pointless this all is so you can leave us alone."

Her face hardened "Let's go" she grabbed Cookie by her upper arm and dragged her away from her desk. Cookie tried to fight her but she wasn't great with hand to hand, give her a weapon and she might have a chance but Sharon didn't give her the opportunity to grab anything.

When they arrived at Bucky's room Sharon's face softened before Bucky answered the door.

"Hey doll, you don't have to knock just-" he stopped and frowned when he saw Cookie "What the Hell is going on, Cookie have you been harassing Sharon?"

He looked to Sharon for an explanation.

Sharon was able to squeeze a tear from her eye "I was by her office to talk to Maria and Cookie said she was watching me and knew she could prove that I'm the power broker. Listen to what she said. Friday can you play the audio from my talk in Cookies office a few minutes ago?"

"Of course agent Carter."

A recording started of Sharon and Cookies interaction in her office. Bucky started listening with a passive face but he grew angrier with everything Sharon said.

Cookie felt hopeful that he would finally see the truth about Sharon but he aimed his ire at her.

"Seriously Cookie? You just can't let it go can you? Sharon hasn't done anything except make me happy and it's killing you. Like I'm some prize to be won. I never thought you would compromise yourself like this but maybe I'll have a talk with Fury and Hill about your obsession with me."

Cookie just stared at him, trying to figure out what the Hell he was talking about. They both heard Sharon say she was the power broker but he still didn't believe it. "Are you listening to the same audio I am Barnes? She said right there shes the power broker and wants the Winter Soldier to be her enforcer."

Bucky glared at her "Jesus Cookie, that's not even close to what she said. Maybe you need to take a vacation because you're losing it."

He looked her up and down "Honestly you look like shit. When did you stop taking care of yourself? I definitely wouldn't have slept with you if you looked like this."

Sharon just stood next to Bucky grinning like a JackAss at Cookie. "I told you Cookie, he's mine so let it go."

Cookie took a breath then turned and walked away without another word. Sharon must have found some way to brainwash him again and Cookie knew there was nothing she could do right now except notify Fury and Hill that Bucky was under Sharon's control so they could work on getting him back. They scheduled a meeting for first thing the next morning at 5am.

Cookie was woken up by her phone ringing at 3am after just falling asleep. It was Sam, Bucky and Sharon were gone, Stark phones and tracking devices left sitting on the desk in his quarters.

Chapter 4

The Power Broker and The Winter Soldier, in the wind.

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