#mcu Fanfiction

[amortsukii]

AVENGERS: AGE OF ULTRON - masterlist

♡ summary. Tony Stark builds an artificial intelligence system named Ultron with the help of Bruce Banner. When the sentient Ultron makes plans to wipe out the human race, the Avengers set out to stop him.

word count. N/A

warnings. N/A

authors note. N/A

sour times masterlist. | timeline. | original characters. | spotify playlist.

TUYO

SUPERMASSIVE

YOU'RE NO FUN

JUST THE WAY YOU ARE

DÉJÀ VU

CRUEL WORLD

LOSING MY RELIGION

HUMAN BEHAVIOR

FINDING WIDOW

MEGALOMANIAC

NEW PEOPLE, SAME OLD MISTAKES

[natxhiddles]

One of my favorites for sure ❤️‍🩹

Natasha Romanoff X Reader - Come Back To Me

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X Femreader Fanfic

Synopsis: You and Natasha have been a couple for a few years when you are kidnapped and tortured by HYDRA. With all of your memories gone, will you ever remember the woman you fell in love with?

Warnings: Mention of torture and violence, Some language. Mostly just angst and fluff

Words: 12,000

——————————————

The words that were coming from the man in front of you didn’t make you feel any better about your current predicament. To be perfectly honest they were making you feel decidedly worse. For starters, you knew for a fact you were being lied to. It also didn’t help that your arms were strapped to the chair you were sat at and you were fairly certain you were about to be imprisoned for a very long time.

“Listen I know this is a lot to take in but you’ve got to try and work with me here.”

You scoffed, scrunching your hands in to fists, “I honestly just … can’t even comprehend that you expect me to believe you.”

“I would never trick you (Y/N), you’re my friend and my team ma-“

“Stop lying to me!!” You shouted, the volume of your voice surprising even yourself. “You’re one of them, you’re an Avenger, you’re the fucking enemy!”

He didn’t say anything, pursing his lips as he tried to think of an appropriate response to your outburst. Several moments of silence passed, an unreadable expression on his face before he finally rose to his feet, pushing his chair to one side and leaving you alone in the room.

Seguir leyendo

[drabbles-mc]

Invisible Silver Linings (1/7)

Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x F!Reader

Series Warnings: 18+, Thunderbolts* spoilers, language, angst, mentions of scars, mentions of self-harm/suicidal ideations

Summary: You signed on to become part of a study when you realized that you didn't have anything left to lose. What harm could it really do? How much worse could it really get? ... You didn't expect to get answers to those questions. You also didn't expect to meet Bob. You'd end up thankful for at least one of those things.

Chapter Index

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: i know i haven't written for Marvel in a while, but i started working on this lil series the second i left the theater on Thursday. it's so nice to see Lewis Pullman getting the creds he deserves. 🥰anyway!!!! I've finished this series and will be posting updates on a weekly or twice-weekly basis until it's all up here and good to go. please let me know what you think!

“They've been taking us in batches,” you told him. You hadn't even bothered to introduce yourself to him, but from the moment they brought him into the room with the rest of you, he'd been looking around, a little twitchy and on-edge. You supposed that you couldn't really blame him. It was a strange position that you were all finding yourselves in. Then again, you had all chosen to sign up for it.

He turned and looked at you, eyes wide and worried at the same time. “Wh-what?”

You nodded in the direction of the doors on the opposite end of the room, not the ones that he had just walked through or anyone else either. One set brought you in, another set brought you out. You had yet to see anyone come back into the room after they left, and while there were plenty of things that that could mean, you wondered if it was the worst case scenario that had crossed your mind before. Judging by the look on his face, it wasn't going to take him long to think of that worst case scenario either.

“The doctors. Scientists. Whatever you wanna call them,” you gave up on titles with a shrug, “have been taking people in batches.”

His mouth dipped into a frown as he took in what you said. He looked around the room that the two of you were in, looked at all of the other people who were in there with you. No one looked very happy to be there even though, if their situations were anything like yours, they had signed off on being here. Not that you looked ecstatic either, so maybe you shouldn't judge. You were just tired. And uncomfortable. All these people stuffed into this room and they couldn't find better seating arrangements? At least the clothes they were forcing you all to wear were comfortable, even if they weren't exactly fashionable. Sure, they kind of made you feel like you were in an asylum of some kind, but they were baggy and soft so it could’ve been worse. The new guy looked like he was close to swimming in his.

He looked around long enough to realize that most people were sitting. There were limited chairs and tables, but you clearly hadn't let that deter you as you found a pocket of space on the floor to sit on. Not quite in the corner but you were far enough off to keep an eye on most of the people in the room with you. The entry door was also close by, and while you didn't have any plans or desire to make a break for it just yet, you figured that it might end up being your best bet if it came down to it. Staring down at you, he watched as you rested your head back against the wall behind you. Your legs were bent at the knee, and your arms were draped over the top of them. Whatever it was that he saw in your facial expression must've been just safe and inviting enough for him to decide to sit down next to you.

It wasn’t a graceful descent on his part, but he didn't fall on top of you. He was closer to you than maybe a stranger should've been in a place like this, but he didn’t seem like he even noticed. He crossed his legs, hands resting in his lap as he looked back and forth between you and the room around you. Something about the way he was sitting, the look on his face, he looked a little bit like a boy stuck in a man's body. He didn’t seem like the kind of person who should be signing up for sketchy medical trials that bring you to undisclosed places.

You would've been content to sit there in silence until it was your turn to get called, but apparently you were alone in that sentiment. “I'm Bob, by the way,” he said, sounding more sure of himself than he had the first time he spoke to you.

When you turned to look him in the eye, you found him already waiting and watching, an expectant look on his face that only added to the little aura of innocence around him. You figured one good turn deserved another if the two of you were going to be stuck together for now, so you gave him your name in return. He smiled at the sound of it, giving a tiny nod of acknowledgment.

“I think you're the first person I've talked to since I got here,” you told him.

He tilted his head, brows furrowing in thought. “When did you get here?”

Looking up at the ceiling, you thought about it for a moment. Being in this strange, mostly empty room that had no windows for natural light had already messed up your sense of time even though you hadn't been there that long yet. “Day before last.”

His eyes widened again. “And they still haven't taken you?”

You chuckled. “You should've seen how many people were in here. I think that's why they're doing…whatever they're doing, in batches.”

“How are they choosing people?” he asked, looking now at the small clusters of people who were still waiting. Some people were keeping to themselves, much like you had been before Bob showed up and decided to switch things up on you.

Letting your eyes close while your head was rested back, you shook your head. “No clue. I don't work here.”

He let out a quiet laugh at that. “Right. Sorry.”

Even though you weren't looking at him, choosing instead to stare at the backs of your eyelids, you could still feel the nervous energy that was radiating off him. If he kept this up, he was going to tire himself out before he even got to the hard part. If he couldn’t handle waiting, there was no way that he was going to be cut out for whatever was waiting on the other side of the exit doors. You didn’t have any words of comfort to offer him, mostly because you had no idea what the hell was really going on yourself. Something told you, though, that it wouldn’t take very long for him to pick up another topic of conversation. Wouldn’t take long for him to start asking more questions that you wouldn’t have any answers to.

As if he could hear your thoughts, he said, “Anyone say what exactly it is that they're doing?”

You didn’t open your eyes. “Nope.”

When he spoke up again, his voice was softer, almost like he was afraid for anyone to hear what he was saying. “I hope it works.”

That got you to crack one eye open so you could give him a bit of a sideways glance. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, instead his stare was fixed on the hem of his pants. He'd found a loose thread and was starting to pick at it.

“What'd they tell you?” you asked.

You wondered briefly if his eyes would ever end up getting stuck wide like that. “What?”

Turning your head to face him in earnest once more, you elaborated. “What'd they tell you they were doing? What'd they offer you to do this?”

His expression dampened, and suddenly it was like he couldn’t meet your eyes. His focus shifted back to the thread. He was shaking his head, and something told you the action wasn't directed at you, but rather at himself. “They said that they could make me great. They…they could make me better.” He found it in himself to look at you, and it was then that you could see how glassy his eyes had gotten. “I really wanna be better.” He sniffed, blinking a few times to beat his tears back into submission. Giving his head and shoulders a small shake, he tried to get himself sounding normal again as he asked, “Wh-what'd they tell you?”

“Something similar.” The point of your elbows dug into the tops of your knees as you dropped your head into your hands. Raking your fingers back along your scalp, you rested with your head down for a moment before looking at Bob again. “I'm not really looking to be great. I just,” you shrugged, “it can't get much worse for me so I figured why not?”

The genuine sadness on his face shocked you. All those feelings for someone who was a complete stranger to him. “Oh. I'm sor—”

You waved him off before he could finish the apology. “Don't be. Not like any of it was your fault. Besides, we both still ended up here regardless,” you made a brief gesture to the room, “so what the fuck does it really matter?”

There was a thoughtful frown on his face as he considered your words. “Right.” Quiet filled the space between you again. You could only try to venture a guess at what Bob was thinking about. Probably everything that led him here—that's what you'd spent most of your time thinking about, anyway. Wondering if this was the right choice or not, not that there were many other choices at your disposal anyway. No use in regretting it. You were here in your pajama uniform with Bob and dozens of other people whose names you hadn't bothered to try and learn. This was what you had now. There was nothing more to it than that.

Marvel Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added!): @garbinge @artemiseamoon @late-to-the-party-81 @blackhawkfanatic

[loversrocktvgirl2]

my mini multiverse of madness…

Go To Bed, Baby (Bucky x Reader Drabble)

word count: ~0.3k

“C’mon, you’re exhausted.”

“Well, yeah, but I was still having a good time!” you argued as Bucky brought you into your apartment. You two had been out for a walk together. He was wearing a white t-shirt, his pants with his belt, and he slid his shoes off at the door as he continued to bring you into your apartment. 

“You looked like you were going to collapse on me,” Bucky said with a smirk. He sat you down on your bed.

As you relaxed into the soothing comfort, you realized, “I am really tired.”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah, see? You gotta get pajamas on though.”

You groaned. “No…”

“Yes, come on,” Bucky took off your shoes and socks gently, tucking the socks into the shoes and setting them aside. He got out one of his shirts that you kept in your drawer. He handed it to you, and you pulled off your shirt and replaced it with the night one. You took off your pants and laid back in bed, on top of the covers, exhausted. “How much did you sleep last night?” Bucky asked, a little amused.

“Give or take two hours,” you said.

“That’s not good for you.”

“Eh.” 

“C’mon, let’s get you some real sleep,” Bucky said as he moved you so that you were under the covers, tucking you in and making sure your favorite pillow was where you liked it.

“You’re awesome,” you informed sleepily, closing your eyes.

“Just lookin’ out for ya,” Bucky answered softly with a smile, and kissed your forehead. “Go to bed, baby.”

tag list

@spaceycat @vidanand @xo-cench @raikan624 @yeehawgiddyup13

[eclipsedechoesofmywords]

Hi! I love how you write Joaquin! Can I request Joaquin Torres with a magic!reader that has Maleficent style wings, and they both go flying together one day and realize they're in love? (I need fluff and banter lol)

"Winging It"

[Joaquin Torres x fem!reader]

Masterlist

Summary: Racing through the sky with Joaquin is one thing. Realising you’re both falling in more ways than one? That’s another.

Warnings: none, just fluff

Word Count: 522 words

A/N: tried my hand at joaquin's pov!

"You'll never catch me alive, Torres!!!" You yelled out behind you, spinning in the air.

Joaquin was close behind, his metal wings surprisingly keeping up with the ones you were born with. White, with a faint tint of gold, Joaquin had assumed you were an angel when he first saw you. He still doesn't think he was entirely wrong.

He finally, finally, caught up with you, now side by side. "Always talking such a big game, aren't you sunshine?"

You frowned, and he grinned.

It had been just past seven months since you two had met. He remembered it as if it were yesterday. On the ground, he was groaning in pain while Sam yelled in his ear through the comms, a shadow, your shadow, falling over him, same frown and all. He might've said something stupid then, but he was too out of it to remember.

Now, here you were, racing through the clouds like it was the most natural thing in the world. The wind rushed past, cool and exhilarating, and for a moment, Joaquin forgot about everything else—missions, responsibilities— and just flew.

You dipped lower, skimming the treetops, and he followed without hesitation. "You're gonna get us both killed!" he called out, but there was no real worry in his voice—just pure, unfiltered joy.

"You love it!" you shot back, tilting your wings to spiral upward again.

And damn it, he did.

He loved the way your eyes sparkled when you were challenging him, the way you laughed when the wind caught you just right, the way you trusted him enough to lead him through the sky like this.

Then, without warning, you slowed, hovering in place as the clouds parted around you. Joaquin circled back, tilting his head. "Giving up already?"

You smirked. "Nope. Just wanted to see the look on your face when I do this."

Before he could react, you reached out, grabbing his hand and yanking him into a freefall.

Joaquin's stomach dropped, the ground rushing up way too fast—but then your wings snapped wide, catching the air, and you pulled him into a smooth arc just before the ground could claim you both. His heart was pounding, his breath coming fast, but all he could focus on was your hand in his, warm and steady.

"You're insane," he breathed, but he was grinning like an idiot.

You squeezed his fingers. "And yet you keep following me."

Something shifted in that moment—something quiet and undeniable. The sky stretched endlessly around you, the world below feeling miles away, and Joaquin realised, with staggering clarity, that he would follow you anywhere.

"Yeah," he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "Guess I do."

Your wings beat once, keeping you both aloft, and for the first time, there was no banter, no teasing—just the two of you, suspended in the air, hearts racing for reasons that had nothing to do with flying.

Then you smirked again. "Race you back?"

Joaquin groaned, but he was already adjusting his stance. "You're impossible."

"And you love it," you repeated, winking before taking off.

He could never argue with that logic.

[johns-walker]

change

john walker/f!reader

when you get injured during a job, you and john have a genuine conversation for once

cw some thunderbolts spoilers (pre-movie, about his personal life), non-graphic depictions of injuries, discussions of mental health / 2.1k wc

i've been a john walker sh**ter since 2021, i've been in the TRENCHES and have watched wyatt russell's entire filmography - i love him. this mainly serves as a set-up/prequel to the second part which takes place during thunderbolts. also, named after the djo song. did i mention that i saw djo last night? i in fact saw djo last night.

It was supposed to be just a job. An easy one at that. 

Really, you were embarrassed to admit to yourself that you actually believed Val when she told you that this would just be an easy in-and-out, that you she was only sending you with your only frequent collaborator because she wanted extra assurance that the package you were retrieving would be found in a timely manner. Believing Val about anything had been a mistake from day one, especially something that had to do with your own personal security and well-being. 

From the moment a cloaked man’s blade embedded itself in your thigh, you knew that this wasn’t ever supposed to be an easy job. 

“She’s trying to get us killed.” Your voice came out as more of a complaint than an actual statement that you were trying to communicate to the man in front of you who was doing his absolute best to patch up your wound with what he had on him. 

“We’re alive, aren’t we?” Walker was stubborn, he always was. But sometimes you wondered if that stubbornness came from the fact that he had more going on than he ever wanted to let on to people. You knew about his issues at home, what had happened about six months ago at this point. It was why you became gentler with him, but he all but rejected any sign of kindness from you - mainly because he seemed to believe that you were just patronizing him, because, as he said, he ‘didn’t want to be coddled’. That didn’t mean that, eventually, he hadn’t started being a bit nicer to you, too. 

“Didn’t you take a knife to the shoulder, too?” 

“Yeah but I’m a super soldier, I’ll be fine.” 

He was too stubborn for his own good. 

“You still couldn’t died, I could’ve died. She told us this was easier than it was, and you know it just as well as I do.” 

As you finished speaking, he finished wrapping your leg and looked up at you. But there was a look in his eyes that told you that this conversation simply wasn’t going to go the way that you wanted it to go, because there was no reasoning with him on this matter. 

“If she wanted us to die, we would be dead.” 

“John-”

“You’ve said this for the last two jobs, if this is too hard for you, you can always tap out.” 

Sometimes it was easy to get a more human side out of him, but sometimes - times like this - it proved itself to be a challenge. Deep down, you were sure that he knew that there was a part of this operation that relied on Val lying to you so you would be more willing to do what she wanted you to do. Did she really want to get you killed? Probably not, she’d have to find more people willing to work for her if she did. Granted, you were certain that would-be superheroes weren’t too difficult to find nowadays. 

“Maybe she doesn’t want us to die, but she clearly has no regard for our well-being.” 

“Oh, please-”

“Forget it, John, I don’t want to argue.” 

Maybe it was the exhaustion on your face that made him listen to you as he moved away from where he was sitting, grabbing the chair that he had moved opposite to the edge of the bed that you were on while he was patching your leg up and moving it to the corner. 

“I’ll be in the other room.” 

Like usual, when you had far-away jobs, Val would either fly you out or get you a hotel with adjoined but separate rooms. When John decided to get up and leave, you could go talk to him whenever you wanted - and you typically did. That was what made it so difficult for you, when it came down to it. Well, it was among the things that made everything so difficult for you.

The issue stemmed from the fact that, at some point, the two of you had become friends. You weren’t sure when things changed, when your professional relationship had become a lot more personal. Maybe it was the night that you were feeling a bit rough, and while he wasn’t the type to talk you through that and give you a hug, he didn’t mind wordlessly sitting beside you and watching movies that the hotel had until you eventually fell asleep. Then you both started sharing more personal things with each other, personal issues that neither of you were sharing with other people. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like that you were friends, because you did. But sometimes you liked it too much. It hadn’t taken you very long to figure out that the feelings that you had when you were around John weren’t exactly platonic, but that wasn’t something that you were going to tell him. Even if it had been months ago, he was clearly still reeling from the loss of his marriage and you knew that. The issue wasn’t workplace romance, or not wanting to tell him because of some minuscule reason. It was because you knew him, and you knew that if anything were to happen between the two of you it would need to happen on his terms - for both of your sake. 

Knowing him itself was a battle, because sometimes you wished that you could do more to help him. You wanted to do something beyond just exist and be a friend, because you knew what it was like. It was the reason you were the way that you were, and the reason that you were in the position that you were in. You knew - perhaps in a difference capacity - the pain that he was experiencing and you wished that there was something that you could do to help him. But knowing him meant that knowing that he would just live with whatever pain it was that he was going through, that trying to talk about it would only make matters worse. 

As you heard him settle into the other room, presumably changing out of his uniform, you did the same and let yourself lay down. The pain in your thigh was quite unbearable, but you were so used to getting stabbed at this point that it wasn’t something that you were particularly surprised by. 

With some Advil in your system and the knowledge that his experience in patching up combat wounds probably left you in a pretty decent position, it took you maybe twenty minutes to fall asleep for what you hoped would be the rest of the night. But that hope was dashed a bit later as you awoke to the sound of a light knocking on the door attached to your own. 

“It’s John, uh, if you’re still asleep that’s fine.”

“You can come in, there’s no locks.” You replied, sitting up in your bed and turning on the light. It had been about five hours since you had fallen asleep. John had clearly gotten out of the shower a bit ago, his hair still damp even if he was covered in dry, clean, casual clothing. 

“Have you been able to shower or is the pain too bad?”

“You know, it’s not often polite to tell a girl she needs to bathe more.” You replied, a normal playful tone in your voice as you spoke. But you knew that he was just being nice, even if a small smile covered his lips, you wanted to be nice, too. “I was going to, but then I fell asleep.” 

“I can wait here, you know, just in case you need anything.” 

“What’s going on, John?” 

He could be nice to you, but right now he was downright doting. It was true that you had been in danger during the mission, but even then he didn’t seem too disturbed by it afterwards. This was odd, to you. You had never seen him act so… caring. 

When he didn’t respond, though, you nodded and got up off of the bed. “We can talk after my shower.” 

You weren’t as quick as you would’ve liked to be in the bath, but you were trying your best to stay off of your bad leg. Despite the fact that the pain had dulled considerably since it happened, and the fact that you were used to things like these happening, you couldn’t say that you enjoyed the pain. Nobody did, even if it was something that you had become used to over time. Still, you were out and dressed in your sweatpants and tank top before you knew it, and you found John sitting on the bed waiting for you like he had nothing better to do. 

He wasn’t on his phone, hadn’t turned on the TV even though the remote was sitting right beside him. He was just waiting. It was quite odd, especially for him. 

“Seriously, John, what’s wrong?” There was no judgement in your voice as you sat down beside him, careful to not sit in a way that would disturb the medical bandages that were covering your leg. “I mean, you know I enjoy your company and all but it seems like something happened.”

You really felt like you shouldn’t known that something was wrong from the moment that he was the one to knock on your door, and not the other way around. Something had clearly been bothering him since before he had come into your room, and the fact that he asked if you were still asleep implied to you that he had seemingly tried to talk to you before, and couldn’t because you were knocked out. 

“You were right, I just wanted to tell you that you were right.” The confused look in your eyes seemingly only made this more difficult for him from the way that he was looking down. “About Val, she doesn’t care about us that much.” 

Truthfully, whether he told this to you or not, you knew that this was something that he was never going to repeat to someone else. He was telling you because he wanted to tell you and because he trusted you, but you were well-aware of the fact that this wouldn’t change how he acted around other people. You would never really ask him to change who he was, though. There were aspects of everyone that could be changed, it wasn’t your place to change that for him. 

“Is that the only thing bothering you?” You asked him, not because you were prying, but because it seemed like there was more that he wanted to tell you. There was a part of you that knew he would never, ever be completely out in the open because it just wasn’t who he was. But you hoped, somewhere deep down, that he would try to be more honest and open. 

“I just wanted to tell you that, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t… I don’t want you to think that I’m trying to be withholding.” 

Seemingly, it was difficult for him to get those words out. You understood why, and you were honestly more than surprised that he even said anything to begin with. But again, you knew him and what he had been through. He hadn’t been there for his family, he hadn’t been there for anyone other than himself. He got selfish, and mean, and he wasn’t the person who you were sure that the people who cared about him knew. You weren’t there when any of it happened, because that was his home life and you weren’t really friends at that point, but you knew about it. He told you about it. And you knew the importance of him coming to you now.

“You’re the only person I have, I don’t want to make you leave.” 

“I won’t leave, John.” Your words were soft, and quicker than you intended. But he didn’t seem bothered by it, and for once, he didn’t seem bothered by the feeling of you pulling him into a hug. Even softer this time, as though you were confessing some kind of secret that he didn’t already know, you continued -  “You’re the only person I have, too.” 

The tone of the evening seemed different than the other nights that you’d fallen asleep watching movies with him, because for the first time, he didn’t leave. He didn’t mind the feeling of you asleep on his arm, and you didn’t feel perturbed the next morning when you woke up to find his blond hair obstructing your eyesight and you tried to get up.

But the change in tone didn’t bother you, even if it changed the way that your relationship functioned as a whole. You couldn’t be too sure what would happen, and you knew that some of your actions throughout the coming weeks and months were implicitly non-platonic even if neither of you explicitly admitted it. But whether you talked about it or not, you had each other, and even if nobody else was there for you, that was more than enough.

[chiefduckgarden]

Peter

Based on Taylor Swift's Peter.

And I won't confess that I waited, but I let the lamp burn

As the men masqueraded, I hoped you'd return

With your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned

Sokovia was forgotten country. Only known for its war and the bomb attacks that terrorized the country a few years ago.

You were born and raised there. In the early years of your life the city was a nice, quiet place to live, but once the Stark Bombs appeared, everything changed. The country was plunged into a state of war for years. Bombs, attacks, bunkers and protests by citizens to cease arms. Everything changed very quickly. In a span of two years your family moved six times to be away from the main targets of attacks. And although it was difficult, it was all worth it in the end. Your family was still safe and together. 

Unlike your best friend, Wanda Maximoff.

You had met Wanda during the first year of school, a somewhat shy girl who hid behind her twin brother Pietro when she walked. You became friends one day when Pietro was sick and you invited her to play with you during recess. From then on, you two became inseparable. Between laughs, games, birthday parties and sleepovers, the connection with Wanda grew stronger and stronger.

Unfortunately, the war ended the children's childhood in Sokovia, including Wanda's and Pietro's.

When the war was just beginning and the attacks were still unpredictable, a bomb hit the building where the Maximoffs lived. Wanda's parents died immediately, but the twins were left under the rubble for days, fearful that the unexploded bomb would finally do its job. Luckily that never happened. The Maximoff twins were rescued and placed in a program for war orphans.

Your parents tried to get them out, but the collapsed system did not allow that to happen. Despite that, Wanda and Pietro would sometimes sneak out to come see you, have a decent meal and a hot bath. It was then that you became Wanda's main emotional support. With you she could cry for hours and she knew you would hold her. You felt your heart break every time she cried, you wished you had the power to take that pain away. But you stayed strong for her and offered her your unconditional love. Unbeknownst to you, that friendship turned into love during your early teenage years.

Each time Wanda visited you, the hugs were longer, the closeness increased, her hands sought yours to hold, the smiles were different. Until day, it finally happened. Wanda kissed you before she left. It was quick, awkward, but you smiled and kissed her back.

Wanda's visits increased since that night. Even if Pietro wasn't there, Wanda knocked on your window almost every day. You would spend hours talking, playing with your intertwined hands and kissing. Wanda seemed happier every time you saw her. Although her life had taken a drastically different path than she expected, the constant within her chaos, was always you.

As they grew up, Wanda and Pietro matured in a different way than you, even though the three of you were children in a country at war, you still had a home and a family. They, they sought to survive. That's how one day Wanda mentioned a man named Strucker.

- He says we can do something for our country. They are looking for people who want to avenge Sokovia, who want to destroy Stark.

Tony Stark. The man everyone hated. Within your many talks about life, Wanda always mentioned her hatred for the businessman. The bomb that killed her parents had his name written on it. Something Wanda never forgot. Her hatred was something you could never cure. Wanda was full of rage, with good reason. But you never thought she'd want to sign up for something like that.

- Is it like an experiment? On people? I don't know Wanda... - you said sincerely worried.She took your hands.

- This is my chance to do something for this country, for my parents. Pietro agrees too.

You looked at her sadly.

- Just stay safe, okay? I'll be here for you.

She smiled and kissed you. The twins had been involved in anti-war revolts before but, this was different. Wanda left that night with Pietro and you moved in for the last time with your family. You didn't hear from them for months.

Life without Wanda was different… sad. When the war calmed down and you were able to go back to school with some normalcy you wished Wanda was there with you.

As the war subsided more and more your concern for the twins grew. You didn't know what they had done with them or where they were.

Until one night, while you were trying to fall asleep, someone knocked on your window.

Your heart stopped for a second. There was only one person who knocked like that. You looked at your . Two o'clock in the morning. A second tapping finally got you out of bed. A faint red light was sneaking through the curtains. You didn't have much time to think about it because Wanda's voice rang in your head.

-Y/N, it's me.

Your heart stopped for a second. There was only one person who used to knock on your window like that. You looked at your nightstand. Two o'clock in the morning. A second tapping finally got you out of bed. A faint red light was sneaking through the curtains. You didn't have much time to think about it because Wanda's voice rang in your head.

-Y/N, it's me.

Confused you walked quickly to the window, opened the curtains and, to your surprise, Wanda was there, smiling.

-Wanda! - you said excitedly, almost shouting - Oh God, I thought I would never hear from you again! - You immediately hugged her and she reciprocated without hesitation.

-I'm sorry, it's been a difficult few months, but I have a lot of things to tell you… did you hear my voice?

You looked at her quizzically.

-Sure, you called me to open the window, didn't you?

She looked at you and shook her head.

-My voice, you only heard it in your head.

Strangely, you thought about it for a second. Clearly you had heard Wanda's voice, but now that you analyzed it carefully… You looked at her again, in front of you. It was then that something else crossed your mind. Your new room was on a third floor. How did Wanda…

You looked down… She was flying?!

Before you could scream, she quickly came in and covered your mouth.

-Calm down, let me explain.

You looked at her, and again, heard her voice in your head.

-It's me, I'm your Wanda, I swear… Just, let me explain, please.

You slowly nodded and she took her hand away from your mouth.

That night you hardly slept, it was an hours-long conversation. Wanda told you about the horrible place they took her to with Pietro, how the experiments turned out to be more torturous and dehumanizing than she thought. She confessed to you that only she and Pietro had survived.

Just as in the past, you held her and let her cry for as long as it took. After months without seeing her you felt her lips again, and god… how you had missed her.

Then she told you about her powers. Pietro ran as fast as light, that was easy to understand. But she… she was extraordinary. Telekinesis, being able to read and manipulate minds, lifting things with her powers… it was all unreal.

-Can you read my mind then? - you asked curious

She nodded.

-I can feel you - she looked at you softly - I know you're worried, even a little afraid… but I know you're not afraid of me, you're afraid of what might happen to me.

You smiled slightly and hugged her crying.

-I don't want anything to happen to you, please… stay - you begged.

She closed her eyes.

-I can't, we finally managed to control our powers, the mission is just beginning…. Stark hasn't paid yet.

-Wanda… Please…

She caressed your cheek. I couldn't stop, not now that I was so close. She kissed you again before speaking again.

-Trust me, please, I will come back, I swear.

Wanda left again that night. But this time she did come back to visit you every chance she got. You waited for her at your window every day. Despite spending hours talking, she never told you much about Strucker's plans, or how she planned to take revenge on Stark.

A part of her world became unknown to you. But it didn't matter because she always came back to you.

You could wait. Every night, you left a lamp on in case Wanda knocked on your window. A custom that stayed with you for years.

As time went on her powers became more sophisticated and she handled them better. One night she even flew you to the top of Sokovia to see the city from afar. You couldn't believe how incredible it was, to you, it was magic. You lived in your own little bubble of love… until it burst.

Again, everything happened very quickly. The news was talking about The Avengers and how they had finally captured Strucker and wiped out a small subset of what was left of HYDRA.

The blood ran cold through your body as you imagined the worst.

Wanda and Pietro had luckily escaped the base and were still at large. But now, they had become the target of Tony Stark and his team.

Wanda managed to see you one more time before joining Ultron, she explained everything very quickly before promising to return one more time.

Everything remained relatively calm until days later when the Avengers showed up to evacuate Sokovia. Wanda visited your home the moment she arrived. She tried to explain to your parents that they should leave while she tried to evacuate the city.

-I was wrong - she repeated - Now you and the whole country are in danger because of me.

Once again you held her while she explained how Ultron was planning to end the world and that she had helped him. You repeated to her that it was all right, that she was doing the right thing now.

She helped you evacuate with your family and kissed you before returning to the, now floating city, to help The Avengers.

Time passed slowly, you hugged your parents while you prayed with all your heart that Wanda was okay.

Finally, your city was destroyed and The Avengers defeated Ultron.

Wanda arrived with your family in the arms of a robot you didn't knew existed. You were grateful that he brought her to you and he left immediately.

You hugged her and she only repeated one thing between sobs. One name.

-Pietro

Your stomach churned and you began to cry too. Your best friend was gone.

The next few weeks were not easy for Wanda. Your family took her in while she was still grieving the loss of her brother. Now that there was no city to return to, your dad decided it was time to start a new life in America. In less than three weeks you had moved into a house in California.

But it wasn't the same anymore. Wanda. Your Wanda. She was now an extraordinary being who could offer so much to the world. And the Avengers wanted her in their ranks.

-Do you think I can do it? - Wanda asked you one night as you cuddled before bedtime.

You sighed before answering.

-You are an extraordinary being Wands... and not just because of your powers, but because of your conviction to use them for good. To do the right thing.

You caressed her cheek.

-I want to try it- she replied - Rogers said they would take me in, I would live in New York to train and help on missions, I would even have a salary.

Your heart stopped for a second, but then you smiled.

-You're going to be the best super hero there is.

She smiled and kissed you. A long, deep kiss. Her hands caressed your body over your pajamas, and when she stopped to look at you for a second, you just nodded and kissed her again, giving her permission to continue. She was yours. You were hers.

Wanda left after a few days. The Avengers took her to New York. Before she left, she promised to visit you whenever she could, as well as promising to take you with her at some point to start a life together. She was gonna grow up to be better and come find you. You both cried and hugged for hours until it was time to leave.

You said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me

Words from the mouths of babes, promises oceans deep

But never to keep

Never to keep

Every day you waited for Wanda to knock on your window. The lamp remained lit, accompanying you in the nights of waiting. But that didn't happen for a long time. That part of Wanda's world where you didn't belong grew bigger and bigger. And although at first you called each other every week, as Wanda's training progressed and the missions grew more and more, those little moments became fewer and fewer.

You went off to college when Tony Stark and Steve Rogers decided to break up The Avengers. From the few phone calls you received from Wanda you were able to learn that the government was looking for her and that she was now a fugitive.

You cried wanting to hug her. But this time it wasn't possible.

The next thing you knew was that no one knew where Steve Rogers and his allies were, Wanda let you know that she was not in America and had returned to Europe, but could not reveal where.

Your life went on and, one day you stopped waiting. No one would come knocking on your college dorm window. The only one that seemed to be still waiting for Wanda was the lamp.

Thanos, aliens, and the extinction of half the population... it all happened in the blink of an eye. The Avengers had lost and Wanda was no longer here.

Again, your family was safe. The first months were devastating for you, you had lost Wanda. Your parents were your main support in those times. You didn't want to... you couldn't let go of her. You held on to those promises and the love you felt for her.

Tony Stark came back to earth after being lost in space and then everyone gave up. And you decided you would too.

Wanda came back in the blink of an eye for her. One moment she was mourning the loss of her android friend Vision and the next one, Doctor Strange was pointing out to her that the final war was still on, and she was needed.

Weeks later she finally found out everything that had happened. The five years that had passed. And her heart stopped.

With the help of The Avengers she track down where you were. Apparently you were no longer living with your parents. You had moved to Chicago during the blip.

With hope in her heart she flew to were you were. Your building was very tall and you lived on the 12th floor.

It was nighttime.

You were on your balcony, looking out over the city.

She hid for a few seconds, admiring you.

Your face was as beautiful as ever but your features... you looked older. You were older. Time had indeed passed for you.

A tear rolled down her cheek. She got lost watching you, until a voice called out to you from inside.

-Honey, I'm going to bed.

You smiled and answered.

-I'm coming.

Her heart stopped again. You were with someone. You were someone else's.

Slowly she came out of her stealth enchantment and approached your balcony.

When you turned around to see the city once more, finally, after years, you saw each other.

Time stopped for a second.

You approached her, slowly, fearful that it was an illusion.

-Wanda? - you asked.

She nodded, landing on the balcony.

-It's me. Your Wanda. I'm fine.

You caressed her cheek, recognizing her skin to the touch. The tears fell down on their own.

-I can't believe it, you're okay.

You hugged her and she cried. For the last time you held her.

-I'm fine. You're fine - she whispered comfortably.

- I'm sorry - you kept repeating - I'm so sorry, I swear I waited for you, I swear.... It was so hard... I'm so sorry.

She smiled softly caressing your cheek.

-I know

-I clung to your love. I clung to you. But it was too much... You promised to come back for me...

Wanda knew you weren't blaming her for anything. She knew you were just letting out everything you had repressed for years.

She smiled and hugged you once more.

You loved someone else. She knew it. But you loved her too.

But your moment never came. Life never allowed you both the peace of mind your love deserved. Your love was lost among the pages of a story that was never told.

After a few minutes the voice called you again from inside.

She understood that it was time to leave. For the last time. But now, leaving no promises to keep.

You hugged her for the last time. Your connection was so strong that no words were needed to understand what was happening.

Wanda said goodbye with a smile looking at you. The little girl who looked at her every time she left was no longer there. She knew you weren't waiting for her anymore.

This time, when you went to bed, before going to sleep, the lamp was finally turned off.

Forgive me, Peter, please know that I tried

To hold on, to the days

When you were mine

But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light

[samfunko]

okay so,

i watched Thunderbolts* today and have some thoughts

SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS* BELOW CUT

—————————————————————————-

so obviously we see Yelenas and Bobs rooms in the void but i was thinking what rooms would the other thunderbolts* have anddd what rooms would the og 6 have??

i feel most of buckys would be Hydra and possibly when he found tony with steve in civil war

i’m not sure really on ava’s but that’s cause i need to rewatch ant man and the wasp

i feel like alexeis would contain yelena and natasha but what else??

and for walker i know we see him arguing with olivia about their kid but then others might be him in the wars and losing lemar

and then the og 6

steve’s would probably be about bucky, the war, his home life in the 30’s and 40’s and possibly tony in civil war as well

natasha’s would be the red room, SHEILD falling (maybe) and maybe yelena

tony’s would be obviously the events that happened in afghanistan and then maybe obadiah and losing pepper

clint’s i’m actually not sure except the ronin

bruce’s would be the gamma experiment, possibly his “relationship” with nat (i hate you joss whedon for including that into the mcu and him trying to 🔫 himself

thor’s would mainly include loki, previous battles, losing his mother and his father

and then obviously they’d all have something from infinity war/endgame…

please share thoughts i find it really interesting to think about!!

[nessieart]

The Way Back. XV

wc: 7.4k

Summary: You found the answer, didn't you? The whole reason you were headed on this journey in the first place. It's been staring you in the face the whole time.

AN: It's a long one. And i think this is the end? I might do an epilogue, maybe.

Bucky x reader || Steve x reader

Masterlist

Previously:

"Doc?" Tony's brows furrow a little before he meets Strange's eyes. "1 in 14 million, and it had to be her?"

Stephen gives him a sad smile, "Let her tell you when she wakes." The portal closes behind him, and it's silent for a while.

Tony huffs, leaning into Pepper as she wraps an arm around him. "Well, that didn't answer any of my questions."

It was almost 2 weeks since you snapped Thanos and his army out of existence, that Stephen took you out of stasis. You came too slowly,eyes squeezing shut tight before you opened them. The room is dim. There's a dull pain in your chest and ribs.

"Ah, welcome back," a voice says to your left. You tilt your head to the voice and smile at Stephen. He looks tired, the dark circles under his eyes and his slumped shoulders - a dead giveaway. "I sent a message to your friends that I'd be waking you." When you give him a questioning look, he leans forward in his chair, hair falling onto his forehead and his hands taking your left hand.

"I had to put you in stasis," Stephen's brows furrow as he looks down at your hand. "You would have died if I didn't." You inhale sharply, then exhale a shuddering breath. You didn't think it would be that bad. You thought, maybe, your body could handle it.

Guess you were wrong.

"Everyone else?" Your voice a little hoarse.

Stephen nods, "Everyone is alright."

"But?"

Stephen exhales from his nose and grips your hand tighter. Then he conjures a mirror in front of you. It takes a moment for you to notice, but when you do, you jerk your hand out of his grip. Your left hand first comes up to your right shoulder, the limb chopped off just shy of the joint.

Then your hand drifts to your chest, your fingers drag across the splintered remnants of your scar. The glow is faint and dim, like the light is burning out. The crystals splinter inward like something cracked down the middle. It goes up your chest and over your collar bone arcing over to your right shoulder.

After about five minutes of straight silence, Stephen clears his throat, "It looks worse than it is," he says quietly. He dismisses the mirror with a flick of his wrist, and he helps you sit up against the pillows.

"I've come up with a spell," he starts. "Though, you'd have to perform it." He hums thoughtfully. Then, with another flick of his hand, a large tome materializes from nowhere, and he grabs it.

The pages flick on their own as Stephen sets the tome on the bed next to your legs.

"What kind of spell?" you ask. Your only hand fidgeting with the blanket around you, but it moves, wraps a comforting corner around your wrist. You smile at the Cloak, the high collar folding up and snuggling around your shoulders.

As the pages slowly stop turning, Stephen gives you a once over, his eyes lingering on your right shoulder, "A new arm. Theoretically," he adds. "It won't be flesh and blood, but, " he looks down as the book finally opens to the page he needs, turning it to you, "it might be better than having nothing."

When you look down at the text, Stephen waves a hand across the pages, and the symbols and ancient words turn to English, so you can read them. You take in the words. The spell seems pretty straightforward.

It mentions drawing an anchoring sigil onto the spot where you want the new limb to appear. The paragraph continues to say that the 'Phantom Limb' will work like a normal appendage. You have complete control over it. It seems like Stephen is holding his breath for you to give him an answer.

You take a deep breath in, "Thank you, Stephen. Really. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. But, let me think about it, okay?"

Stephen nods in understanding. He dismisses the book with another wave of his hand.

You feel otherwise okay, and Stephen helps you out of bed and guides you down the familiar halls of Kamar-taj.

It's early morning. The cool breeze sweeps in from the mountains. The Cloak around your shoulders hugs you tighter to fight off the chill. There's very few people in the courtyard this early. "I forgot how peaceful it is here," you say. Stephen tucks your left hand into his elbow as you both walk. "I missed you, Stephen."

He hums a laugh, his eyes bright as he looks down at you. "It's good to be back. Though, I'm not sure where to go from here."

"Maybe back to New York? Wong can only be in one place at a time." He hums again, nodding along.

It's quiet between the two of you as you walk around the courtyard another time.

"They're having a wake for your friend - Natasha - tomorrow. I- I can take you if -"

"Yes," you interrupt. "Please, I want to go. I - I would have to go home and find something to wear." Tears burn the back of your eyes the more you think about it. The absence of Nat now. It's like someone hallowed out your insides. It's getting hard to breathe. You can't breathe. You're inhaling, but not enough air is coming in. Sobs wrack your body the more you think about Nat.

"Hey, hey," there's warm palms on your face. Concerned blue eyes peer into yours. "Breathe with me. You gotta exhale, Y/N." He moves your hand onto his chest. The blue robes are soft under your fingertips. You try to follow his breathing. "That's it, nice and slow." After another minute of Stephen calming you down, he leads you over to a bench and rests a comforting hand between your shoulder blades. The cloak hugs you more, the high collar trying to pet you with soothing brushes of its fabric.

"C-can you t-take me home, Stephen?" You ask after another minute of silence. He nods, doesn't ask for you to try. He opens a portal, one hand sweeping in wide circles.

The apartment you share with Steve is on the other end, is dark. The clock the wall reads just after midnight. The only light on is the light above the stove, dim and shining from the kitchen. As you step through, you pull the Cloak, it goes reluctantly back to sit on Stephen's shoulders.

"If you need anything," he nods and gives you a small smile.

"Thank you, Stephen. For everything." As you step further into the living room, the orange portal disappears.

It's quiet. You're not sure Steve is even here. Maybe he's with Tony or in Wakanda. Maybe you should have had Stephen take you there instead.

You heave a sigh and head towards the kitchen, but before you do, you hear shuffling from the couch.

"Steve?" you call out quietly.

A head peaks up from the couch, unsure crystal blue eyes peak at you before he stands. In loose fitted pajama bottoms and a dark t-shirt. Awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

"Uh, sorry -" Bucky rubs the back of his neck with his hand, his vibranium hand stuffed into his pocket. "Steve said it would be, um, okay if I stayed here. But -"

"It's okay, Ja-Bucky, Stephen brought me home." You shake your head. "I was going to make some tea," you throw your thumb over your shoulder. "Want a cup?" His eyes slowly drag over to you, and he tries really hard to stifle the surprise in his throat. "Is Steve here?" Bucky nods and points down the hall, then steps around the couch.

"I - I'll get him," he says as he walks down the hall and out of sight.

You decide to leave the lights off and just work by stove light. You fill the kettle and turn it on and then move to reach for your favorite tea bags. Then a mug. It's slow going with only one arm, but you're managing alright.

You hear hurried footfalls pad down the hall, and you turn as Steve enters the kitchen.

He stares at you for a moment. Taking in your appearance. Loose dark tank, temple-issue pants from Kamar-taj, sandals. Then, the jagged and shattered scar on your chest and collar bone, then finally to your missing limb.

Steve takes a big shuddering breath, "Sweetheart," he swallows. "H-how are you feeling?" You shrug a shoulder, one arm going across your body as you curl in on yourself. "I - the last time I saw you," he shakes his head, trying to banish your dying form from his mind. "Did you portal?"

You shake your head, "Don't think I can anymore. Stephen portalled me." You turn back to the counter. The kettle is almost boiling, and that would have to do. It's silent for a moment. You hear shuffling and can only imagine the silent conversation the two of them are having.

You wiggle and dunk the tea bag around the hot water in the mug as you shift from foot to foot.

"Stephen said the funeral for Tasha is tomorrow," you say quietly. "I um, wanted to find something to wear." A tear slips down your face as you continue. "All my other clothes are currently under a mountain of concrete," you try to joke.

There's a heavy sigh before you feel the heat of Steve's body behind you, "Y/N, we don't need to worry about that right now. Why don't you come to bed?"

"No, I'm tired of sleeping. I can't. Not right now," you grab your mug, step around Steve, and go past Bucky to sit on the fire escape. Your chair with a small throw blanket draped over the back is still there. You set the mug down on the small side table before you sit down.

It's another hour before you feel a presence from the open window. The tea mug has long since emptied, and the city is loud and live.

The blanket is draped over your shoulders, and you glance back in the window, "You can come out if you want."

Bucky clenches his hands tight, internally debating if he does want to step outside with you. Instead, he turns and sits on the floor. His back against the window, he can see you from the corner of his eye if he turns his head just right. He doesn't speak, just sits on the other side of the window, lending you his presence if you wanted to talk.

You can almost hear the gears turning in his head. Maybe he wants to ask how you're doing but doesn't want to be like everyone else. Just asking to fill the silence.

Another hour goes by, maybe more, before Bucky shifts and turns his head so he can see you. '"You - uh, were pretty impressive on the battlefield. Before," he cringes slightly. "I didn't know you could fly."

You hum, pulling the blanket tighter. "Not sure I still can, to be honest," you turn to face him, pulling your legs up onto the chair. His brows furrow, a small pout on his lips. "I like your hair." You smile. Because you're just now noticing it. It's a lot longer than you remember. Way past his shoulders and tussled from his fingers running through it.

Bucky clears his throat, a hand raking through the strands on the side of his head. "Thanks," he mumbles. "You- you don't look as bad as I thought." He adds, then his eyes go wide.

A laugh bubbles out of you before you can stop it.

"Oh God, that's not what I meant to say," Bucky says as your laugh dies down. He curses under his breath. He goes to apologize, and he turns leaning his vibranium arm on the window sill. He stops as he catches the end of your laugh, smile still spread wide across your lips. His lips pull into a slow, easy smile in return.

After a moment, Bucky shifts again, "I didn't mean it. How that sounded," he chews on the inside of his cheek as his eyes search for something to say.

You place your hand on his arm, and the metal is cool under your finger tips, "It's okay, Bucky. I knew what you meant."

It must be close to 3 am when you climb back through the window. There's a light that shines from down the hall. You guess Steve is still awake, too.

"Thanks for keeping me company, Bucky," your fingers trail from his shoulder down to his hand where you give him a gentle squeeze. He just nods in return and watches you go.

Steve is sitting on the bed, and the side table lamp is on. When he sees you at the door, he stands, placing the StarPad down. He swallows before he motions to the bed. "I didn't think you'd come," he says quietly.

"I might not be able to sleep," you say as you walk into the room. The blanket falls away, and you and Steve stare at each other from across the bed. He gives you a reassuring smile. "But I wanted to be next to you," you shrug and sit on the bed. Steve joins you and opens his arms as he rests his back on the headboard.

You crawl into his lap, and he adjusts the blankets around you. His hands rub soothing circles along your back. He leans over and turns the lamp off. The only light coming in the room now are the street lights outside. He squeezes you tight, and your hand grips the front of his shirt.

"I'm broken, Stevie," you whisper just loud enough for him to hear.

Steve grunts in disapproval, "No, sweetheart, you aren't broken." He kisses the top of your head. "You're just hurting right now. You've got me and Tony. We're here for you. Buck knows what it's like. He'll be here, too." He tips your face up to look at him, and gentle thumb rubbing at your chin. "I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere." He pecks your lips to seal the deal and runs his nose against yours.

You hum, settling into him a bit more. Suddenly, you feel more tired than you thought. Sleep drags you under fast. Steve pulls the comforter up far enough to cover you both, and soon he's falling asleep right after you.

**

It's a long drive up to Tony and Pepper's. Everyone agreed to hold the wake there - since the compound was being cleared of rubble.

You decide to sit in the back, not wanting to fill the car with forced conversation.

When Steve pulls up to Tony's, there are already people milling about, a few dozen people filled the yard, porch, and you could see a few inside as well.

You hesitate opening the door, Steve and Bucky look back at the car when they notice you aren't following. Steve says your name. It's muffled through the windshield. He taps on the window, brows pinched in worry.

"Sweetheart?" His muffled voice calls. "C'mon, we don't have to stay long. We can go whenever you want." He waits another beat. "At least say hi to Tony?"

That makes you look up at him. He gives you an encouraging smile, and he opens the door so you can get out.

Steve runs a hand up your left arm, then fixes the leather jacket around your shoulders. The right arm sleeve is tied off, you shuffle on your feet as Steve worries over you. Bucky waits off near the front of the car, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Steve grabs your hand and begins to walk towards the backyard. There is a picnic table with snacks on top that people are picking through.

The first person to notice your little group is Sam. His wide, toothy grin is a little infectious as he wanders over as the three of you approach.

"Damn! It's about time y'all showed up!" Sam claps Steve on the shoulder, then he leans down to give you a hug but stops. His hands rest on your shoulders. He must see the way you look at him, eyes silently pleading not to make a big deal about your missing arm. He gives you an easy smile, "Hey, baby girl. How you holdin' up with two super soldiers and their appetite under one roof?" He teases instead.

You huff a laugh and push his chest playfully. Sam nods at Bucky, who nods back, and then he goes back toward the group of people he is mingling with. Steve puts a hand on your lower back, ushering you further into the gathering.

You see Tony on the porch, talking to Stephen and Nick Fury. He's holding Morgan. She's hiding her face under his chin so she doesn't have to be a part of the adult conversations but still present in Tony's arms.

Fury notices you staring. He tilts his head, one eye appraising. He nods and lifts his beer in a silent salute. When Tony catches Fury looking behind him, he twists, eyes lighting up and a smile pulling across his face. Stephen notices, too.

Stephen says something to Tony, whose eyes flick to Stephen and his brow lowers above his eyes, jaw ticking and he points and angry finger at Stephen's chest.

Tony turns towards you and says something to Morgan. She shoots up in his arms as her head swivels to find you. She lights up like it's Christmas, shimmying out of Tony's arms to patter down the stairs and weave through the throng of people until she can make a b-line to you.

You let go of Steve's hand and crouch. Steve and Bucky share a concerned look until Morgan comes giggling into view.

"Princess Charlie!" she nearly shouts. Morgan comes barreling into you, but you stay crouched and hug her as best you can with one arm.

"Hello, my love," you tuck your face into the side of hers. Morgan hugs you as tight as she can before she's pulling back and putting her hands on your face, squishing your cheeks in.

"I very upset with you," she pouts. Morgan nods before you can speak up. "Daddy said you got hurted and - and. Needed time to get betters." She pats your cheeks once. "Do you need me to kiss you boo-boos all otay? That what Mommy does for me when I get hurted."

"Thanks, munchkin. I'm a lot better now," you lift her up, and she settles on your hip. Morgan notices Bucky staring at you, and she hides her face in your neck. You chuckle and adjust your arm to hold her better.

"Morgan, this is my friend Bucky. Can you tell him hi?" Morgan nods a little and peaks her eye open to look over at him. She fiddles with the collar of your shirt and mumbles a hello. You hum, "I don't think he heard you," you give Bucky a wink, and he waits patiently, giving Morgan his best smile.

She shifts again, tilting her head so she can see him, but still hide in your neck. Morgan moves her hair out of her eyes, "Hi, Mr. Bugee," she mumbles a little louder.

"Hello, Ms Morgan," Bucky smiles and gives her a wink. Morgan giggles.

She notices Steve next to you and gives him a small wave, "Hi, Mr. Steev."

"Hello, sweetheart."

"Morguna," Tony leans on the railing of the porch just behind you, Morgan looks up at her father, "Why don't you go find Mommy?" Morgan sighs big and deep, rolling her eyes. God, she really is Tony's kid. You chuckle at her reaction.

"Okay," she extends the word and grumbles. "Bye, Princess Charlie!" She slides down off your hip. Morgan skips through the crowd of people, sing-songing 'Mommy' as she goes.

You smile, and Steve wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your temple.

"Auntie," Tony says. You look up at him with a smile. He motions with his head, "C'mon, got somethin' to show you." He taps the railing before he stands and waves you toward the house.

You look up to Steve to try and explain, but he's just smiling. He squeezes your hip before he steps away. He claps Bucky on the shoulder and leads him over to the picnic table. Bucky looks back at you with a worried look, but you just give him a smile before you follow Tony inside.

He's ushered everyone else outside except for Stephen, who is hovering behind the couch with his hands in his pockets. He gives you a tight smile, face strained as you walk further into the room.

Tony turns to you, hands on his hips. The two of you are dressed similar, dark jeans dark gray or faded black band tee. He gives you a once over before he sighs.

"Alright - well, left," he snorts, "let me see it."

"Stark," Stephen's exasperated sigh comes across the room. Tony gives him a look.

"What, poor taste?" He looks back at you, "So sue me." He gestures at your right side, "C'mon, I gotta know the damage before I can fix it."

"You told him about my arm?"

"Only after I couldn't save it," Stephen's eyes plead, he straightens more. "The healers did all they could. Christine - the doctors did all they could before that. I couldn't - " he takes a deep breath, "I couldn't save you without taking your arm."

You give a resigned nod, removing your jacket and draping it over a chair. Tony motions for your shirt next, and you roll your eyes at him and just pull the right side of your shirt up, pulling it back so Tony can see the nonexistent limb.

The small nub at your shoulder is exposed, and the jagged scar that angrily reaches towards it is on display for Tony to see. He steps closer, the engineer and mechanic in him accesses how he can fix this, but the Tony that cares for you like a daughter - a best friend - he hesitates just for a second. The pain behind his eyes when they meet yours is telling. You don't like the pity. You'd do it all again.

Tony whistles low as his fingers drift on the top of your scar, then over your shoulder. "Okay, no problem-o," he steps back with a clap of his hands. "FRIDAY, let's show her the good news, shall we?" FRIDAY hums happily, showing a holographic image on the table in the room. Tony makes it larger, some highlighted areas display descriptions next to them, and you pull your shirt down and step closer.

It was a beautiful piece of machinery, maybe almost as nice and sleek as Bucky's vibranium arm. It looks matte gunmetal gray. There are lines of glowing blue that show between the plates. A repulsor on the palm of the hand.

"Don't let anyone tell you you do anything by half, Tony," you joke. Tony hums, he rubs a hand over his goatee, then nods to himself.

"I can start right away. I sent the schematics to Shuri, she was overjoyed to help. You did save the universe and whatnot."

"Tony," Stephen warns again. He heaves a sigh.

"I appreciate this, Tony, really. But I'm okay," you tell him. "I-it's okay.

Tony snorts, but it's humorless. "Of course it's not okay," he leans on the table in front of him, on hand gesturing towards the hologram. "I can fix this. I can fix you!"

You take a steadying breath in, "I don't need fixing, Tee. I've barely had time to process any of it. I woke up yesterday, but you've known for a whole week." Tony goes to protest or say something to persuade you otherwise, but you talk over him. "I love you, but this is something you can't fix. At least not right now."

You turn to leave, "I just need - I need a little time, Tony. To process. To cry. To figure out who I am now."

"You're my friend, Y/N," Tony says quietly. "Let me help. I need to."

You give him a sad smile, "You are helping. But I'll be fine. At least for right now, please."

Tony finally relents, nodding and waving a hand over the table to dismiss the hologram. He walks over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, grabbing your jacket and swinging it over his shoulder as he leads you back outside.

Stephen follows silently behind as you rejoin the people outside. Drinking and reminiscing about years gone. Most of the stories you share are about Natasha. Clint had a lot. It was hard for him at first, but his wife was there to comfort and support.

The afternoon sun dips low over the lake behind Tony and Pepper's place. Slowly, people start leaving. They thank Pepper, then Tony, waved goodbyes to the few that remain.

You sit in an Adirondack chair, a low bonfire a few feet away, Morgan is sleeping on you after a long day of running and playing with Clint's kids. Pepper had draped a blanket over Morgan. She curls into you more as you run your fingers down her back, soft snoring coming from her lips. You're not sure where everyone else is, most likely on the porch, still drinking and chatting.

You hear soft footfalls approach, they stop just out of your periphery, but you can tell from the way he stands, it's Bucky.

"Checking up on me, James?" you ask quietly. When he doesn't answer, you look over to him. His gaze is on the water, brows low over his eyes, lost in thought. "James?"

Bucky inhales sharply, then his piercing eyes find yours, he looks conflicted, and a myriad of emotions linger behind his eyes. "You remind me of someone…" he mumbles. You wait patiently for him to continue.

After another long moment, he swallows thickly, "Why- why does Morgan call you Charlie?" His eyes search your face, and you give him an easy smile.

"Because I am Charlie. Steve didn't tell you?"

"What?…"

"I'm Charlotte Stark. It's a long stor - Hey-!" But Bucky turns around and storms off in the direction of the house.

Great.

You need to get up, smooth over anything that's about to happen, but you can't. Can't scoop Morgan up like you usually do when she falls asleep like this.

You try maneuvering Morgan around a little, but it's difficult with one arm, and you still can't see the house from how you're sitting. You groan in annoyance, when Pepper comes walking toward you soon after.

"Oh, thank God," you sigh as Pepper picks her daughter up.

"Though I'd help," she offers quietly. "You better hurry. It didn't sound too great when I left." She gives you a sympathetic smile, then takes your place in the chair as you leave.

As soon as you opened the door, it wasn't the chaos you thought it would be. But Sam and Tony stand between Steve and Bucky.

Tony sighs in relief, "Oh good, please do something," he gestures to Steve, then Bucky. Bucky's jaw is tight, mouth in a grim line as he glares at Steve. His chest is heaving like he ran a marathon.

Steve looks at Bucky with pleading eyes, but his shoulders are squared, and his back is rigid. He's ready to defend himself, but you know he won't fight back if it comes to it. His eyes don't leave Bucky's as you enter the room.

"What did you tell him, Y/N?" Steve asks. You see his hands clench when Bucky's lip curls back and his eyebrows lower.

"Uh, that I'm Charlotte? I figured you told him. It's not exactly a secret."

Steve exhales sharply from his nose, "I was trying to protect you -"

"Bullshit," Bucky grits out. He goes to take a step closer, but Sam stops him. When your eyes flick back to Steve, you notice the angry red outline of a fist on his jaw. The mark is bright and will bloom into a bruise in no time. Most likely from the vibranium fist that's clench tight at Bucky's side.

"You wanted me kept in the dark. Just so you could control me."

"No, Buck, that's not -" Steve sighs. "Look, it's not that simple, and you know that."

"Sam, Tony, give us a minute," you say over Steve and Bucky's bickering. They share a concerned look with each other, then look at you, but you nod, and they leave.

You want to cross your arms over your chest, but you can't. The motion is caught by Steve and Bucky. They falter a little. You settle for placing your hand on your hip instead. You huff.

"Explain. From the start."

Steve goes to take a step towards you, but Bucky growls low, angry, and feral. He huffs out his nose and grinds his teeth. Steve takes a step back, his hands held up.

"I'm - I'm not the person I was before," Bucky starts. His eyes shift from Steve to you. They soften, but you can still see the tension pulled tight in his body. "I'm different. I- I'm still me, but I'm not the same man I was during the war. And no matter how much Steve wishes I was - you do, don't stand there and tell me any different. Im just... not him."

You nod and step closer to the pair. They both seem to lean into your presence. You turn your eyes to Steve, giving him a nod.

"I was going to tell you, Buck - I was! It- it's hard to explain," Steve shakes his head. "Time travel? Would you have even believed me? That Y/N went back in time and then -"

"Then we watched her die. And now she's here?" Bucky scoffs, shaking his head. "We fought aliens, twice. We were born over 100 years ago, Steve. And you thought I wouldn't believe you?"

Steve hangs his head with a sigh, his hands on his hops. "You're right," he says softer, quieter. "You're right, Buck. I'm sorry. I just thought - after everything, I guess I was just trying to," Steve shrugs, brows puckered in the middle as he looks up at Bucky. They share a silent conversation. Eyes searching the other. It's a little unnerving. Bucky sighs and runs a hand through his long hair.

"Yeah, yeah, punk, I get it."

And then, as if nothing happened, they embrace. Tight and then a clap, once, twice on each others back, and then pull apart and share a smile.

Steve and Bucky turn their eyes to you. "I feel like you didn't even need me at all," you smirk.

**

In the car, on the way back to the city, Steve glances at you in the rear view. You catch his eyes after an hour of him trying to get your attention. You smile at him, and he shifts in the driver's seat before he clears his throat.

"I'm returning the Stones in two days," he says. The quiet hum of the car and soft jazz playing stretches on before you say anything.

"Did Bruce and Tony -"

"Yeah," he cuts you off. "Tony said they finished a few days ago. He uh, wanted to wait. For you."

"Okay, I'll be there," your heart skips a beat. Maybe you could see Howard again, just one more time. Bucky peaks back at you over his shoulder, eyebrows creased with worry. He probably knows what you're thinking. Maybe.

**

You like when Tony and Bruce bicker, they mutter to each other over the console, Tony's hands articulate while Bruce rubs a hand down his face.

Sam wraps an arm around your shoulders when he stops next to you and Bucky. He leans in and stage whispers, "They act like an old married couple," he smirks.

"I heard that, Bird Brain," Tony says without missing a beat. "Don't bring my Auntie in on this. You know she'll take my side." He winks at you and goes back to his conversation with Bruce.

"Man, that's so weird," Sam cringes. You bring your left hand over and pinch his side. He yelps, and you both chuckle. Sam sees Steve approach and meets him halfway, sharing a greeting.

Bucky shifts next to you, fingers brush against your own, grounding himself as he takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he says, just loud enough for the two of you to hear. He continues before you can ask why. His gaze is hard and determined as he looks down at the grass. "I-I took him from you, and I don't - I remember it - whenever I look at you, and Stark." Bucky swallows. His throat works hard around the lump, his eyes glaze over, and he looks at you. Sad, broken, seeking forgiveness or a lashing. Anything is better than the turmoil and guilt roiling in his gut and in his head.

You remember the video from Siberia. The silent tears falling from your eyes. But you didn't know Howard then. You cried for the pain Tony was going through, seeing his parents killed. Cried because Bucky was a shell of who he actually was. The Winter Soldier may share Bucky's features, but it wasn't Bucky that did it. You knew that the moment that video ended.

The tears gathered on his lashes as he dissociated and relived that moment in his mind. He was a victim, just like Howard and Maria. Bucky had no choice, and you know that.

But it still hurts. Knowing that's how your brother died, at the hands of the man you loved. A bitter laugh escapes you, and Bucky flinches.

"I don't blame you, James. There's nothing to forgive," you turn and place your hand on his shoulder. He barely turns his head to look at you, "Hydra killed my brother and his wife. When I look at you, I don't see the weapon they used and abused. I just see you. And, that's enough, isn't it?"

Bucky lets out a low, slow shuddering breath. He scoops you into a hug. It's warm and familiar. He tucks his head into your shoulder and holds onto you. You wrap your arm around his shoulder and place your hand on the back of his head.

You lock eyes with Tony, and he raises an eyebrow, a somber look on his face. Bucky may have the face of Tony's parents' killer, but Tony doesn't blame him, no matter how much he tried. But he still isn't comfortable being around Bucky longer than he has to be. And to say he wasn't overly thrilled that you used to 'go steady' didn't win over any points in his book.

Tony claps his hands, gaining attention from your small group.

Bucky pulls away from you, but his large hands stay splayed over your ribs. He sniffles back the tears gathering on his waterline and gives you a small smile.

"Okay, folks. No time like the present. Let's get a move on," Tony chirps. You roll your eyes and scoff in Tony's direction. He just winks at you.

You place your hand on Bucky's chest before you try to go over to Tony, but he stops you, his hand covering yours to keep you there. And for a moment, everything feels familiar. Calm. Intimate.

His fingers curl around yours, his thumb runs over your knuckles with such familiarity it knocks the air from your lungs. Your fingers twitch and grip the fabric of his jacket.

You look up into Bucky's eyes. They seem to sparkle, crystal clear, and searching.

"You're glowing," he murmurs.

You gasp, looking down, and you see your shattered scar pulse brighter than it has since you used the Stones.

Bucky drags his vibranium fingers along the top of you scar, it hums and sings - like water around a crystal glass.

"Whoa," he breaths. His wide-eyes find yours and you huff a disbelieving laugh. Bucky mimics your grin, his eyes crinkling as his thumb runs along the edges of your scar again.

There's a sudden arm around your shoulders, Sam's surprised voice makes Bucky remove his hands from you and take a half step back. He shoves his hands into his jacket pockets, avoiding your gaze, his cheeks flush a faint red.

"Damn, Star Child, you get your powers back, or what?" Sam squeezes his arm around your shoulder again, his toothy grin is infectious.

"Maybe," you mumble, a small smile tugs your lips. You look over at Tony and Bruce, they are explaining to Steve that he has to take the Stones back exactly when they belong.

Steve makes his way over to you, and Sam pats your shoulder once before he steps away next to Bucky.

Steve stops in front of you, his free hand coming up to frame your jaw, "You seem happier," he says.

You nod once, placing your hand over the star on his uniform, "Maybe it's that fancy new uniform you've got." Your fingers trace the outline on his chest. Steve rumbles a laugh, shaking his head.

"Told ya, Cap," Tony calls. You and Steve level him with a playful glare.

Steve's thumb rubs your cheek, and when you look up at him, he leans down and kisses you. You smile into his lips. His fingers tighten, and suddenly, it feels different. Something you've never tasted before pouring out of his lips onto yours.

And before you can think about it anymore, he pulls away, "I love you," it's said like the first time he's ever said it. And if he doesn't say it now, he might not say it ever again.

He steps away and goes over to Bucky. Bucky, who looks like he might curl in on himself the closer Steve gets. He slowly looks up to meet Steve's eyes, brows puckered and mouth in a thin line.

Steve exhales sharply from his nose. "Don't do anything stupid til i get back."

A laugh escapes Bucky, sad eyes roll upwards as he shakes his head. "How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you."

They hug, Bucky mumbles something into Steve's shoulder, and when Steve steps away, he just nods.

"It's gona be okay, Buck."

Steve steps up onto the platform, it whirs to life. He activates the nano suit.

"How long's this gona take?" Sam asks.

"For him? As long as he needs," Tony shrugs.

"For us, five seconds," Bruce finishes.

Steve turns to pick up Mjolnir, and he fixes his gaze on you. His blue eyes soaking in the sight of you. You give him a hopeful smile.

"Ready, Cap?" Bruce asks. Steve nods, not taking his eyes off you, even when the helmet appears around his head. "Alright. We'll meet you back here, okay?"

"You bet."

As Bruce counts down, Steve looks between you and Bucky.

And when the count reaches one, he's gone.

Bucky steps up next to you, his shoulder grazing yours. You lean into him more.

Tony counts the return as Bruce flicks a switch. The platform hums to life again.

But nothing happens.

"Where is he?" Sam speaks up.

"I-I don't know," Bruce flicks another switch. "He blew right by his time stamp."

"He should be here," Tony's brows scrunch.

"Get him back," Sam demands.

"We're trying!"

"Tony…?" you ask. He gives you a small shake of his head.

Bucky's hand shoots out to stop you, grabbing your wrist. He nods his head over towards the river.

There's a man sitting alone, staring off into the water. As the three of them argue behind you, you feel the burn of tears in the back of your throat.

"No..he…" You look at Bucky, and he has the same sadness in his eyes. You feel your heart plummet, and you blink back tears. "S-Sam-" your voice cracks, and Bucky tugs your wrist to stop you. Your chest heaves, and you really want to leave. You can't stay here, you can't look at him. Because if you look at him, you might explode.

You feel Bucky motion over to the man on the bench when Sam turns to look your way.

"I-I can't stay here," you choke out. It's harder to breathe the longer you stand here.

"Just wait, doll, please," Bucky's voice pleads through the rush in your ears.

When you look at Sam, your vision is blurry around the edges. He's holding a new shield. It suits him, you think. He walks away, a little confused. A little surprised. Maybe a little more confident.

Sam clears his throat when he stops near you. He can't seem to meet your eyes as she adjusts the shield on his arm.

"He, uh, wants to talk to you, Y/N."

Bucky's grip on your wrist tightens, and a tear slips down your cheek as you turn your hand free.

You stop behind the bench and barely make a sound. But you know he hears you. His head turns only a little.

"Steven," your throat is tight when you say his name. His hair is white, and you can see the wear on his skin, the wrinkles. His frame is slight, but you're sure he's still tall and imposing, no matter how old he is now.

He hums, weathered hands grasp his knees as he stands and faces you. You can still see your Steve under his wrinkles and the age. But he's not your Steve.

Hell, maybe he never was.

"Hello, sweetheart," he smiles. "It's good to see you again."

You don't say anything. He rubs his hands together, then stuffs them in his pockets.

There's so many questions on the tip of your tongue, but you can't find your voice to ask them.

After a moment, he speaks. "I want you to know -" He stops as he sees the tears fall down your cheeks. It hurts so much. You bring your hand up to your chest to soothe the ache.

"Please. Please don't say 'it's not you, its me' ," you croak. "Because I already know. It was never me." Steve goes to speak but stops when you glare at him. His throat bobs as he swallows. "I love you, and you took that from me," you whisper. You know he can hear you. He winces slightly.

"I know you're upset, sweethe-"

"Stop calling me that!" You yell. Your voice echoes across the water. Your chest heaves, "I want to hate you. So much. But you know the funny thing?" You huff humorlessly, "I don't think I could ever hate you." You want to curl in on yourself. But you won't give him the satisfaction.

"Do you know why I took those Stones and snapped my fingers, Steve?" You barely give him time to respond before you continue. "Back in 1943, I tried to find a way back here. I went to the Sanctum to use the Time Stone. And when I went to use it, everything stopped. It was bright, and still. And then I saw the moment Stephen talked about on Titan. The 1 in 14 million chance that everything goes the way we want. We win."

You shake your head a little, Steve shuffles on his feet, inching a little closer as you speak.

"Howard asked me once - back then - that if I ever made it home, to look after his kid. Keep him safe, and watch his back. Cause if he was anything like Howard, he'd need it." You chuckle to yourself.

"And that's what I've been doing, y'know? Without even realizing it. From the very beginning. I caught him out of that wormhole. Found him when the world thought he was dead. From Ultron, the Accords. Siberia," you level Steve with a cold glare, and he feels it zip down his spine.

"The future Stephen saw, I prevented. Tony was the one who was supposed to snap his fingers," You snap yours, and Steve's eyes go wide. "He dies. And I saved him. Because I made a promise a lifetime ago."

"Y/N -"

"You promised me you would never leave me. And like an idiot, I believed you."

You look behind you, at your friends. Sam's face is sympathetic. Bucky's brow is lowered over his eyes, his lips in a grim line. Tony looks worried, and Bruce looks too stunned to have any emotion but shock.

Your gaze stays on Bucky for another moment, "Maybe I can forgive you for leaving," you shrug. Bucky's staring at you, his jaw ticks. "But leaving him?" You turn back to Steve. The tears have turned to anger now. There's still heartache and sadness thrumming through your veins, but now?

"I won't ever forgive you for leaving him. Ever."

**

You turn to leave, and don't stop walking even when Steve calls your name or when Sam asks if you're okay. You walk up to Tony, and he hugs you tight. Whispering reassurances into your hair that you can't hear over the beat of his heart in your ear.

And when pull away, you step back into a portal and disappear.

i want to thank you all for reading and coming with me on this journey. I never thought this story would go anywhere, but! It did, and I'm really really happy with where it ended. If there is an epilogue, please stay tuned. Maybe we'll see them again.

tags: @valckenaux ; @yunloyal ; @otterlycanadian ; @frickin-bats ; @leahmck ; @8812-342

[ang3ltine]

Guys I just finished watching thunderbolts!! Please send in requests of what you want me to write, I'm definitely open to writing for most of the characters in this movie ⚡️

[kylopen]

In My Head

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sunshine reader is always seen as sweet and innocent to the team, always happy to use her healing magic wherever possible. Bucky, touch starved and in love, discovers reader is not as innocent as she seems.

Word count: 8.2k words <3

Plus size reader safe! All body types are safe in this fic! Everyone loves Dom! Bucky I do too but good god I need whipped Bucky who will do anything for Reader. This is the longest piece I’ve written in so long! Enjoy and leave a note<3 I’m in my marvel era again so feel free to request anyone! I didn't proof read (i finished it at 1am)

Tags: There is a plot! (porn with plot lol) AFAB reader, The smut is pure FILTH tbh, Smut, Pining Bucky, no use of Y/N.

Smut warnings: Sub!Bucky, soft dom! Reader, use of ‘Good boy’, Bucky has a praise kink, pussy eating (lots of it), Needy/touch starved Bucky, Bucky has an Edward Cullen moment, Oral (female/reader receiving— THREE times hehe) penetration, Buck likes his hair pulled, Bucky dry humps, Reader squirts (third oral sequence so skip that part if you wish) needy creampie.

There were things in the modern world that baffled Bucky, Bubble tea, new terms for prejudice ending in 'phobia', babies with Ipads in their faces. And you. The first time he laid eyes on you, you gave him a blindingly sweet smile, and held your hand out for him to shake. When he didn't take it you didn't judge him or look at him funny, you smiled like you understood. From then on, you respected his boundaries and he began to feel safe. It made sense to him that someone like you had the power to help and heal others.

You’d always bring them things; vitamins, water, those weird orange flavoured things that dissolve in water, something a little sugary for a boost, with that sweet, innocent smile he'd grown to adore. He would never- could never admit that though, someone like him wasn't worthy of you. He could settle for some longing and pining instead.

Bucky is lounging on the sofa with Steve, some 50s flick playing that Steve had insisted on, something about a painter in Paris- he wasn't sure. And then, you walk in, your sweet voice drifting into his ear.

“An American in Paris, huh?” you asked, gently teasing as you moved closer to the sofa, catching sight of the movie they were watching.

Bucky shifted a little, his gaze flickering to you, then quickly back to the TV. He tried not to look at you too much when you were around, not because he didn’t want to, but because every time he did, it felt like something in his chest tightened. It certainly didn’t help that it was a hot day today, you’d opted for a cute pink and white sundress that stopped mid thigh.

“Yeah, Steve’s choice,” Bucky muttered, trying to sound casual, but his voice came out a little softer than he intended. He knew that you liked these kinds of old movies, so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

Steve grinned from the other end of the couch, catching the subtle shift in Bucky’s tone, but not saying anything about it. Instead, he glanced up at you with a friendly smile.

“You a fan of the classics too?” Steve asked, gesturing for you to sit if you wanted to join them.

You walked over, the scent of your shampoo reaching Bucky’s senses. Vanilla and coconut, coincidentally his favourite fragrance, something that had changed not long after he’d met you… coincidentally of course, and the more you lingered around, the harder it became for him to focus on anything but you.

“Reminds me of my dad. Some are super sexist but I’m a sucker for Marilyn Monroe” you said, sitting down at the edge of the couch, right next to Bucky. Close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off of you, but still with enough space to respect his boundaries. You always seemed to know exactly how to balance that, without even trying. It amazed him.

Bucky felt his pulse quicken as you sat beside him. You were so close. Too close. Not close enough.

He grunted in agreement with your statement, nodding, though his eyes stayed fixed on the screen. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you—he just didn’t know how. What could he say that wouldn’t make him seem awkward or broken? Besides, talking might make him reveal just how badly he wanted to be near you, and he couldn’t afford that.

But then you spoke again, your voice soft and gentle, like you were speaking just to him. “How was training today?”

He cleared his throat, trying to push away the thoughts clouding his mind. “Same as always. Steve still hits like a truck.”

Steve laughed from the other side, “You’re the one with the metal arm, Buck.”

Bucky shot him a look, but there was no real bite to it. Just a distraction. He was grateful for it.

You laughed too, and that sound—it was like a melody that settled right under Bucky’s skin, making him feel warm in a way he hadn’t in a long time. He stole a glance at you again, just for a second, and you were looking right at him. That smile on your face, the one that had been seared into his memory from the moment you’d met.

“Let me guess,” you said, eyes twinkling, “you didn’t let him win this time either?”

Bucky’s lips twitched, almost into a smile, but he stopped himself. “Nope.”

“Good,” you replied, your voice soft again, almost as if you were relieved. “Can’t let Cap off easy.”

It was such a simple thing to say, but it hit Bucky harder than he’d expected. You cared. Not just in the way you handed out snacks and drinks after training or smiled when they passed by, but genuinely cared. For him. For Steve. And maybe, just maybe, that meant you’d be willing to see something more in him than he saw in himself.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but it was thick with unspoken words. Bucky could feel it. He wanted to reach out, say something—anything—but the words lodged themselves in his throat, like they always did when it came to you.

For a moment, Bucky let himself wonder what it would be like—if he could let himself believe he was worthy of you. Of someone so full of light and warmth, when all he felt was the shadows of his past.

But then the doubt crept back in, and he looked away again. He couldn’t let himself get too close. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could manage without giving too much away.

You didn’t push him, though. You never did. You just smiled again and settled into the couch beside him, watching the movie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And for a fleeting moment, Bucky let himself pretend that it was.

The training room echoes with the sharp sound of fists hitting metal, the rhythmic thud of boots against the mat, and the occasional grunt of exertion. Bucky and Steve were sparring again; the same routine they'd run through countless times. It usually helped Bucky clear his mind, focus his energy on something physical, something he could control. But today, it was different.

“Come on, Buck, focus,” Steve says as he circles around, hands up and ready. His movements were fluid, precise. He was always like that—disciplined, unshakable. Bucky was too, usually. But not today.

His thoughts kept drifting, unbidden, back to you.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how close you had been on the couch last night, the way your voice had softened when you’d spoken to him, like you saw something in him that no one else did. That smile. It was haunting him in the best way.

As if to taunt him farther, his mind flashes with the image of you in your sundress, the way it swayed around the soft skin of your thighs.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice cut through his reverie, but not fast enough.

Distracted, Bucky moves just a second too late. He swings wide, and Steve, quicker than ever, ducked under his arm and swept his legs out from under him. Before Bucky could react, he hit the mat hard, air leaving his lungs in a sharp gasp.

“Damn it,” Bucky growles, more at himself than at Steve. He stays on the floor for a moment, trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He shouldn’t be getting distracted like this. Not during a sparring session. Not ever.

Steve stands over him, offering a hand, his brow furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky grumbles, accepting the hand and letting Steve pull him back to his feet. His ribs ache from the fall, but it wasn’t anything serious. It was more the embarrassment that stung. Bucky didn’t like feeling off his game, and lately, thinking about you was doing just that.

“You weren’t focused,” Steve says, stepping back into position. It wasn’t a question.

Bucky wiped the sweat from his brow, shaking out his arms as if that could somehow reset his mind. “I’m fine. Let’s go again.”

Steve hesitates for a second, then nods, getting back into stance. He could tell something was on Bucky’s mind, but he wasn’t going to push. At least, not right now. Steve knew when to back off, and when to press—though Bucky had a feeling that conversation would come soon enough.

They start again, trading punches and dodges, but Bucky couldn’t shake the lingering thoughts of you. The way you made him feel—safe, seen. The way you’d praise him. God… the way you’d tell him he did a good job after training or a mission,

Just for a second, his mind drifts again— Your pretty eyes, the way they’d look at him like he was something amazing, the smile you’d give him and then he wonders what your face would look like as he dives down deep between your thighs-

Steve’s fist came in fast, and though Bucky manages to block it, he doesn’t account for the follow-up. Steve's knee connects with his side, hitting just below his ribs with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

Bucky staggers back, holding his side with a grimace.

“Whoa, Buck!” Steve stops immediately, hands out in concern. “You good?”

Bucky clenches his jaw, nodding, though his side throbbed. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You’re not fine,” Steve replies, taking a step forward, but Bucky waves him off, frustrated with himself more than anything.

“I said I’m fine,” Bucky snaps, turning away for a moment to catch his breath. He hates this. Hates how easily you get into his head, how much he let himself think about you when he was supposed to be focused. It wasn’t like him to get distracted, especially not in a fight.

Steve gives him a long, knowing look. He wasn’t pushing the subject yet, but Bucky could see it in his eyes—Steve had noticed something. And knowing Steve, it wouldn’t be long before he asked about it.

Steve lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “You need to go get that checked out.” He motions to the cut on Bucky’s cheek and his ribs.

“I said I’m fine,” Bucky mutters.

Steve doesn’t budge. “Buck, if you don’t get that cleaned up, it’s going to get worse. You’re already bruised, and that cut—” He gestured to Bucky’s face. “—needs to be looked at.”

Bucky was about to argue again when Steve adds, with a pointed look, “Go see her.”

He blinks, his heart suddenly beating faster in his chest. “What?”

“Go see her,” Steve repeats, his voice calm but insistent. “You know she can patch you up. She always does.”

Bucky opens his mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. You always did take care of them after training, offering vitamin drinks or snacks, your touch gentle and your presence calming.

“I don’t need—” Bucky begins, but Steve cuts him off with a significant look.

“Buck, you’re hurt. Let her help you. Besides, we both know she’d want to,” Steve says, his tone softening as he rests a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She cares, man. And you’re not doing yourself any favours by pretending you don’t need her.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his chest tight with a mix of frustration and something else he couldn’t quite name. The truth was, he did want to go to you.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky nods, finally relenting. “Fine.”

Steve smiles, patting him on the shoulder. “Good. Now go get cleaned up. I’ll finish up here.”

Bucky hesitates for a second before turning to leave the training room, his side still aching from the hit.

All he knew was that when he saw you, when you smiled at him with that gentle, understanding look in your eyes, it was going to make it that much harder to keep pretending he didn’t feel anything.

Bucky’s footsteps echo softly through the hall as he makes his way to the infirmary. When he reaches the infirmary door, he gives a soft knock before stepping inside.

You’re there, sitting at your desk with one thigh crossed elegantly over the other, your attention focused on some paperwork in front of you. You’re dressed in your usual professional attire—a fitted dress that hugs your form just enough to hint at your curves beneath your white lab coat. The subtle click of your black heels against the floor when you shift is a small, but noticeable, sound that makes Bucky's heart beat a little faster.

You look up when you hear him enter, that sweet, welcoming smile appearing almost instantly. “Bucky,” you greet warmly, your voice soft. “What brings you in? Did you and Steve go a little too hard today?”

For a second, Bucky just stands there, distracted by how you look. His heart skips a beat as he takes in the sight of you. He notices, maybe for the first time, how the hem of your dress rides up slightly when you cross your legs. He forces himself to look away before you catch him staring.

“Uh, yeah,” he mutters, gesturing vaguely to the cut on his face. “Just a cut… and maybe some bruised ribs.”

You arch an eyebrow, your smile turning a little coy. “Only maybe bruised ribs? Sounds like you need me to take a closer look.”

Bucky blinks, heat creeping up his neck as he tries to decide whether he’s imagining the playful tone in your voice or if it’s actually there. He clears his throat. “Yeah… probably.”

With that, you uncross your legs and stand up, heels clicking softly against the tile floor as you walk over to him. Your movements are graceful, confident, and Bucky feels his pulse quicken as you draw closer. There’s something about the way you carry yourself today—calm, collected, but with an air of subtle suggestion that makes him feel off balance.

You stand just inches away from him, reaching up to gently tilt his chin up so you can inspect the cut above his eyebrow. Your fingers are cool against his sweaty skin, and Bucky freezes, his breath catching in his throat.

“It’s not deep,” you murmur “But it’s a little more than a scratch. Seems like you need my magic touch~” you wiggle your fingers and Bucky bites back a groan at the subtle implication.

Before Bucky can respond, you place your hand gently over the wound, and he feels a soft, warm tingling sensation spread across his skin. Your healing powers are subtle but effective, and within seconds, the pain is gone, the cut already closing up beneath your touch. He’s experienced your abilities before, but every time he feels a spark from your touch, it’s a simple move but he craves more.

“There we go,” you say softly, removing your hand from his face. Your fingers linger a little longer than usual, trailing down his jaw ever so slightly before you step back, your eyes locking with his for a brief moment.

Bucky swallows hard, trying to shake off the heat rising in his chest. He’s probably imagining it—just reading too much into things. You’re always sweet, always kind and innocent.

Your gaze drops to his side, and you gently brush your hand over his ribs. “Lift your shirt for me?” you ask, your voice light but carrying a tone of suggestion that makes Bucky’s heart skip a beat.

He hesitates for a second, then does as you ask, pulling up his shirt to reveal the dark bruise spreading along his ribs. You make a soft sound of sympathy, a small pout forming on your lips as your pretty eyes lock with his for a moment. You look back down, your fingers grazing his skin as you crouch slightly to get a closer look.

“You really got hit hard,” you murmur, your tone carrying a note of concern but it switches up subtly as you carry on: “Good thing I can take care of you.”

Bucky’s breath hitches. Did he hear that right? Is there something more in your words? You were just talking about the injury right? The way you said it, the way you moved—it feels almost sinful in a way he’s not used to, at least not from you. He tries to keep his focus, but with you this close, your fingers trailing lightly over his bruised skin, it’s damn near impossible.

You place your hand gently over his ribs, your touch soft but firm as you close your eyes for a moment, focusing on healing the injury. Bucky feels the familiar warmth of your powers again, spreading through his body like a gentle wave. The pain begins to melt away, the bruise slowly fading beneath your hand.

“There,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “All better.”

But your hand doesn’t move right away. Instead, it lingers on his ribs for a second too long, your fingertips brushing the edge of his abdomen in a way that makes his breath catch. Then, just as he’s about to say something—anything—you pull away, turning to your desk, palms flat and bending as if you’re looking for something. Bucky’s mind flashes to pulling up your dress and fucking you senseless then and there, his metal hand clenches and he shakes the thought away.

Bucky exhales slowly, trying to calm the sudden storm in his chest. He has to be imagining it, right? You’re just being your usual caring self- but that touch felt different. Everything you’re doing feels different. More intentional. And the way you’d looked at him just now—

He notices you didn’t actually pick anything up from the desk after you’d bent over it a little.

“Alright, just one last check,” you say as you come back to stand in front of him, a small, almost playful smile on your lips. “Let me make sure everything else is fine.” You reach up, your hand lightly brushing against his neck as if you’re checking for tension or soreness. But then, your fingers linger—soft and warm against his skin, trailing slowly down to his collarbone. The touch is innocent enough, but there’s something in the way you do it that makes Bucky’s entire body tense.

You meet his eyes, your expression still sweet and professional, but there’s a hint of something more—something almost teasing in the way you hold his gaze. “Hmm, seems like you’re all healed up,” you murmur, your voice soft but suggestive in a way that makes his pulse race.

Bucky swallows, his throat suddenly dry as he stares at you. For a moment, he can’t move, can’t speak—stuck between the need to figure out if what he’s feeling is real or just in his head. He tries to convince himself it’s all innocent, but the way your hand lingers on his neck, the way your eyes flicker to his lips for the briefest of moments… it leaves him wondering if you aren’t quite as innocent as he thought.

You finally step back, that same sweet smile on your face as if nothing happened. “Take it easy, alright? Don’t push yourself too hard next time.”

Bucky nods, his voice hoarse when he finally speaks. “Yeah… thanks.”

You tilt your head, your smile widening just a little. “Anytime.” You sit down on your chair again, crossing one thigh over the other, it seemed deliberate.

You rest a pencil on your lower lip, teeth grazing it just slightly, pretty eyes on him. Bucky draws in a breath and feels a problem growing between his legs. He spins around to the door, hoping you don’t notice.

As Bucky begins leave you call out once more: “Let me know if you need me Bucky~ you can always come to me”

As Bucky leaves the infirmary, his mind spins. He came in with injuries, but now he has a different kind of problem, he attempts to calm down, the hardness in his pants making it hard to think. Something has shifted between you two, and whether it’s real or just in his imagination, Bucky can’t help but think back to it all. Did you want him too?

That night, Bucky stares at his ceiling, mind flashing back to you at your desk. Why didn’t you pick anything up? Did you forget what you were looking for? The look in your eyes told him you must’ve known what was going through his head.

He groans and pushes his face into his pillow, he thinks back to something that had happened a few days ago. You were giving out some sort of vitamin pill to everyone, when you’d leaned in, lips near his ear as you whispered:

“I saved you the last cherry flavoured one, don’t tell anyone” before winking slightly.

He shivers at the memory; he could smell every inch of you when you leaned in.

He grunts and pushes his face farther into the pillow. Why did you always save the good things for him? Was it on purpose? Whenever you baked you’d give him first pick- he thought you were just being nice, the sweet girl they all know. But the more he thinks about you the more he notices those little things.

Before he had even registered what he was doing, he was standing and making his way to your rooms. You did say he could always come to you. Bucky freezes outside the door when he realises where he was and what he was doing. Was he crazy? How could he come up with an excuse for being at your door at eleven at night? Before he can change his mind and turn around your door opens. There you stood wearing nothing but a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top- with no bra.

Bucky freezes, his breath catching in his throat as his gaze locks on you. The soft glow of your bedside lamp spills over your frame, highlighting the way your sleep shorts hug your hips and your tank top clings to your chest. His mouth goes dry.

You blink at him. “Bucky?” your voice is soft, a hint of curiosity laced in your tone. “Is everything okay? F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you were stood outside my door.

For a moment, all he can do is stare. He knows he should say something, anything, but his mind is scrambling for an excuse—an explanation for why he’s standing at your door in the middle of the night. His thoughts drift back to your touch earlier, the brush of your hand on his neck, and the memory of your lips near his ear just days ago.

You tilt your head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, and Bucky swears there’s something teasing in your expression. You step aside, opening the door wider as if you’re inviting him in. “You didn’t have to knock, you know,” you say with that same sweetness. “You can always come to me.”

His heart pounds in his chest, loud enough that he wonders if you can hear it. He swallows, trying to push down the tension, but something in your eyes—something about the way you're looking at him—has his feet moving before his brain catches up.

He steps over the threshold.

Bucky steps inside, the door clicking shut softly behind him. The room is dim, and the soft scent of your perfume lingers in the air, teasing his senses. He watches you as you turn back toward him, your smile still warm, still innocent—at least on the surface.

“So…” you say, your voice soft as you walk a little closer to him, “What brings you here so late, Bucky?” There’s a hint of playfulness in your tone, like you already know the answer but want to hear him say it.

He shifts awkwardly, his eyes darting away from yours. “I… uh, I couldn’t sleep.” His voice comes out rougher than he intended.

“We both know my healing powers can’t help you sleep Bucky. So what’s up with you coming to see lil’. ol’. Me.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but no words come out. His mind is racing—unsure if you're playing a game or if he’s just reading too much into it. His eyes flick down to your tank top, the way it clings to you, the coolness from the hallway had made hard peaks appear on your chest he then glances back to your face. You’re watching him carefully, that same playful glint in your eyes.

You tilt your head slightly, voice soft but teasing. “You’ve been thinking a lot lately, haven’t you?” Your fingers brush lightly against his arm, sending a shiver through him. “About me?”

Bucky feels his pulse quicken. He’s certain now—there’s no way he’s imagining it.

“I—” He swallows hard, trying to find the right words. But before he can, you step even closer, your body inches from his now, your hand lingering on his arm.

“You think I didn’t notice?” You ask sweetly

Bucky’s breath hitches as your words sink in, and his chest tightens, the space between you suddenly feeling far too small. His mind is racing, but his body is rooted in place, drawn to you in a way he can’t explain. He tries to speak, to form some kind of coherent response, but his voice fails him.

“You think I didn’t notice?” you ask again, your voice low, sweet, but with a teasing edge that makes Bucky’s heart race. Your hand is still resting lightly on his arm, your touch burning through his skin despite the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of your body is so close now, and Bucky is overwhelmed by the scent of you—intoxicating, pulling him deeper into the moment. He can feel himself grow hard at the simple touch, he want’s your hands all over him. He just needs to feel you touch him.

He stares down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the way your lips curve into that soft, knowing smile. You tilt your head up slightly, your eyes locking with his, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just the two of you, standing impossibly close, the air between you thick with tension.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, but Bucky hears every word. “I notice where your eyes go when I wear a skirt or dress, if I bend over or wear anything even remotely low cut.”

He swallows hard, his pulse pounding in his ears. He wants to say something, to explain himself, to apologize, but he can’t—because the truth is, you’re right. He has been looking at you, watching you, craving your presence without ever fully admitting it to himself.

You shift even closer, your chest almost brushing against his, and Bucky’s breath catches as your fingers slowly trail up his arm, lingering at his shoulder. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep control of himself. The way you’re looking at him, your lips parted slightly, your eyes holding his like they’re daring him to make the next move…

He’s losing it.

“You don’t have to hide it,” you whisper, your voice laced with that same soft, teasing edge. Your hand moves up to his neck now, your fingertips brushing the sensitive skin just below his jaw. “You can tell me what you want, Bucky…”

He whines.

Before the embarrassment can hit him you let out a low groan at the sound. “Fuck…”

Bucky’s breath comes out in a shudder, his self-control hanging by a thread. He feels the warmth of your hand against his neck, the way your touch lingers just a second too long, and it sends a wave of heat rushing through him.

He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re already moving, closing the last bit of space between you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and Bucky’s resolve crumbles. He can’t hold back anymore.

His hand reaches out almost instinctively, fingers gently curling around your waist, pulling you closer. He leans down, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches from your lips, his heart pounding in his chest.

“You…” His voice is low, strained, as if he’s barely holding on. “You’re driving me crazy, doll.”

You smile, and the look in your eyes—soft, teasing, and just a little wicked—sends him over the edge.

Bucky leans to close the gap but your finger presses against his lips. A frown forms on his face, and then you speak.

“ah ah ah” you shake your head “we ask for what we want”

Bucky mentally scolds himself for not asking, he was in the moment.

“May I kiss you?” he asks.

“Say please” there was an unexpected dominance to your tone, completely wiping out the innocence.

Oh fuck.

Bucky feels himself grow harder at the tone. He’s momentarily stunned. Your pretty eyes are on him, feigning innocence but there’s something sinful hiding in them. His beautiful blue eyes look down at you, filled with need.

“Please?”

You let out a moan at the word, your body heating up, your core dampens your shorts.

“Fuck… Bucky…” You say breathily before you pull him down a little to reach your height and kiss him. It’s gentle, as though you’re teasing him, giving him a glimpse to what he can have. He just needs to ask politely.

“Doll… please… I…” He struggles to get his words out, brain fogged over from all the sensations hitting him at once. You run your hands along his abs and he whines again. The whine shoots straight through you. Bucky Barnes, the worlds most accomplished assassin is whining for you.

“Please what? Good boys use their words.” You say in a sinfully soft voice that sends a shiver down his spine.

“I need… more… please” He whispers your name at the end and you hum, satisfied. You grasp his hand and it feels so good to him. Too good. He follows you as you pull him towards the bed.

“Sit there. Lean against the headboard” you hum and he immediately does as he’s told. Sure, he was a super solider who could overpower you in a second, you were both aware. But you were both also aware that he didn’t want that. He needed you to guide him.

You plant yourself in his lap, straddling him, before letting out a soft hum as you feel his hardness push against your core over your sleep shorts. Bucky lets out a moan at the contact but you’re quick to swallow it with a deep, heated kiss. His hands claw at your hips and you gasp slightly as the metal of his hand touches your skin. He’s quick to pull it away but you’re quicker, gripping his wrist and shaking your head, guiding it back in place.

You continue the kiss, before taking his lower lip in between your teeth. You open your eyes to see his blue ones are locked onto your own in what can only be described as the hottest, neediest way, his pupils dilated. You lick over his lip before your hand snakes around the back of his neck and up to his hair. You gently tug, its light, testing the waters and his lips part, head nodding. You pull his hair back a little harsher and he moans. You laugh, the sound dark and sinful in Bucky’s ears.

Your lips kiss his earlobe. “You like your hair pulled? Dirty boy~”

He moans again and nods, hands gripping your hips a little harder, pulling you down to grind on him. You make a ‘tsk’ sound and he freezes, quickly remembering your rule.

You get off him and he groans at the loss of contact, his needy eyes falling onto you. You slowly pull down your shorts, revealing your core to him. His breathing quickens, cock twitching and straining against his sweatpants.

“Take your clothes off, honey” your sultry voice fills his ears and he does so immediately, stripping off his shirt first, exposing the honey toned abs with numerous scars here and there. He is beautiful and you let it show on your face. He drags down his sweatpants leaving him in his grey boxers. There’s a dark damp spot on them from his arousal, pre-cum weeping through from the tip. You make a gesture for him to keep going and he obliges, dragging the boxers down. He stands there, glorious cock hard against his abdomen, looking at you, waiting for your next command.

“What do you want? You just need to ask” You inquire, goading him to tell you.

He swallows, looking down at your dripping core and then back to his cock. You fully expect him to ask to fuck you based on his expression, but he shocks you.

“Can I taste you please?”

Your eyes widen briefly, stunned at his choice.

“I’m sorry— if you don’t want—“ He begins to speak but you cut him off with a finger to your lips and standing up. You slowly peel off your shorts, leaning against the wall.

“You asked me so nicely.” You beckon him and the speed in which he’s on his knees in front of you has your legs weak. His hands skim over your thighs, leaving Goosebumps in their wake. “Is this what you want?”

Bucky looks up at you with desperate eyes, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Yes, please” His voice is hoarse.

“You wanna make me feel good?” You coo.

Bucky groans, his hands gripping your thighs a little. “More than anything” He confirms.

You nod, giving your permission and he settles in between your thighs. He grasps your ass, pulling you up so your legs are over his shoulders, his head cradled by your thighs. You’re momentarily stunned, briefly forgetting he’s a super soldier with insane strength. The thought goes right to your core. Your back is against the wall, his hands still firm on your ass, keeping you in place. Bucky’s breath ghosts across your core before he looks up at you. The sight was nearly enough to make you come. With a firm squeeze on your ass, he dives in, licking a stripe up your lips, making you gasp and weave your fingers through his hair. He groans and begins to lap at your clit like a man starved. He occasionally moans and groans, letting you know how much he’s enjoying being between your legs.

“Bucky— oh my god” You moan out. This only drives him more, he focuses his tongue on your bundle of nerves and you see stars.

He is good at this.

Really fucking good.

Too good?

It doesn’t take you long to come at all, you grasp his hair tighter, thighs squeezing around his head in a way that makes his cock twitch against his abdomen. He rides you through your orgasm until you’re squirming and too sensitive.

He pulls back, holding you up still, and looks into your eyes. The lower part of his face is sinfully wet, he gives you a charming smile, eyes still betraying his neediness.

“You did so well… so good for me…” You breathe out and a strangled noise escapes him.

A praise kink.

“You did so so good for me Bucky~ You deserve a reward” You coo, getting off his shoulders and standing up. You tilt his head up with your finger. “You want a reward baby?”

Bucky lets out a breathy noise and nods.

“What do you want? I’ll give you whatever you want”

Bucky Looks up at you, standing up. He shocked you again.

“Please doll… sit on my face… if… you want…” He adds the last part, unsure. All he knows is that being in between your thighs, hearing you, feeling you, giving you pleasure is all he wants right now.

You bite back a groan and nod, watching him scramble to the bed, laying on his back. He’s gloriously naked, thick cock incredibly hard and standing to attention. You crawl up his body, making sure to brush up against his length to hear those delicious whines from him. His hips buck a few times against you and then you’re settled just above his face. You look down at him and he looks ravenous— His desperate eyes flicking from your core to your face. His hands keep flexing as he struggles, wanting nothing more than to pull you down onto his face and hold you there until he can’t breathe.

“You can touch me Buck” you say softly and his hands hesitantly settle on your hips. He pauses before it eventually becomes too much and pulls you down onto his face, groaning at the impact. You don’t move much, assuming he wants to take the lead when he speaks, muffled against your core.

You giggle and look at him innocently. “Sorry honey what was that? I can’t understand you~”

His eyes grow even more needy, looking up at you. He speaks, muffled again before he decided to lift you up just enough to speak.

“Move— please. Grind on my face. Use me to come please”

How could you say no to such a beautiful request?

You settle back down and rock your hips. His tongue moves with the same finesse and you can’t help but wonder if he’s tired. He doesn’t look tired. You move his arms so he’s holding them up and you entwine your fingers, using his arms to keep you upright, moving against him. His eyes are fluttering shut in pleasure and you groan. You make quick work of your shirt, leaving you both naked now.

“Eyes open Bucky~ I thought you wanted to see what you do to me?~” You tease.

His eyes shoot open again, pupils dilated, his eyes more black than blue now.

“Good~ So good to me” You breathe out and he moans against you, making you gasp and your hips stutter. You grip his hands tighter. His pretty eyes are begging you to come and you do, thighs once again squeezing around his head, making him feel dizzy. Your hips are bucking against his face not even thinking about his breathing— but that isn’t on Bucky’s mind either. You ride out your orgasm and get off him, falling on your back, breathing erratic.

Bucky lays there with the lower half of his face wet, stubble and all. His breathing is erratic and his cock is painfully hard against his abdomen.

“Holy shit Bucky” You huff out and a hoarse moan leaves his mouth.

He slots himself between your legs, kissing your shoulder, slowly moving down your body until he’s at your hip, kissing it softly.

“You are so beautiful doll” His eyes are sincere and your cheeks feel hot at the compliment. “One more time? Please?” He asks, eyes pleading.

Sweet mother of Jesus.

“You want— you seriously— you want to eat me out again?” Your eyes are wide.

Bucky nods, nuzzling and kissing your thigh before focusing on your face again. “And to fuck you with my fingers if that’s alright with you doll?”

Sweet. Mother. Of. Jesus.

Your brain short circuits for a moment at the words leaving his mouth and you mindlessly nod, your gaze heated and intense.

He runs a finger along your dripping core and he moans. Was he really getting this much pleasure? You hadn’t even touched him at all. He teases your entrance before sinking a finger in softly. He hisses at how tight it is, his cock twitching. You let out a soft breathy moan at the feeling, instinctively reaching for his hair. Bucky peppers kisses on your thighs before he begins pumping his finger.

It’s not enough.

“More” You demand, gripping his hair. Bucky is happy to oblige, pushing a second finger in, your toes curling. “oh god yes”

Bucky begins to curl his fingers, brushing up against your sweet spot as he increases his pace a fraction and you cry out.

“Am I doing good?” His husky voice asks, desperate for praise.

“So good baby, so fucking good. You’re so good to me” You moan out and he snaps, thrusting his fingers into you with a little more force and latching his mouth onto your clit. You’re so sensitive at this point you let out a whine, your words not coherent. You didn’t even know it was possible to come this many times before being fucked. The coil in your stomach feels more intense than you have ever felt before, you tighten around his fingers and before you could warn him, he pulls away, watching the liquid squirt from you in awe. You, on the other hand are glassy eyed and trembling afterwards.

Bucky gives you a few minutes to settle before he brings himself back up to your face, you pull him in for a messy kiss. His cock is settled on your thigh, Bucky whines into the kiss and you can feel him jutting against it. You grasp his chin as he kisses you, feeling his length as he desperately claims whatever friction he can get.

Bucky is surprised at himself. There has never been a time in his life where he has felt the need to dry hump a woman. But you have the best ways of bringing new feelings and actions out of him.

“Please” He says softly.

“Oh you’re so worked up honey. After doing such a good job. Take what you want Bucky” you coo, stroking his cheek and he leans into it before settling his hips between your legs.

“Can I… are you okay if I…” He begins and you nod.

“You’ve more than earned it” You rake your hands through his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

In an attempt to ground himself, He places his hands on your headboard, letting you guide his cock into place. He pushes in and groans, immediately shattering the headboard where his hands were.

Oh lord.

You squeeze around him and let out a breathy, aroused giggle. Bucky on the other hand looks mortified.

“Oh my god doll I am so sorry—“ He goes to pull out of you but you grasp his arms and shake your head. He doesn’t take much convincing before he pushes into you fully. He’s panting and rests his forehead on yours. Even with the fingers stretching you earlier, you need to adjust. The super solider cock is no joke.

You moan encouragingly in his ear and he pulls back softly before pushing back in. Your eyes flutter and Bucky has his trained solely on you and your reactions.

“Am I hurting you, doll?” He asks, breathily, stopping his motions.

You shake your head immediately. “Please don’t stop”

He keeps his strength in check, bracing on the half broken headboard again, his hands slotting into the Bucky sized hand holes in them. He uses a leisurely pace that does hit the spot, but it’s not quite enough. You could tell he was holding back for your sake but you needed to see just how much he needed you.

“Harder Bucky~ Fuck. I can take it— please”

The headboard crushes even more at your words, your legs were wound around his hips, he leans forward, wrapping his arms around you, his face buried in your neck as he desperately thrusts into you. It’s hard and fast, a string of moans and curses leaving your mouth as you can’t move in his grip, all you can do is take it. You’re seeing stars now, as Bucky is whining and muttering praises in your ear.

“You feel so good doll”

“I would do this forever… beautiful beautiful girl”

And lastly:

“Oh god thank you” He repeats the phrase a few times and your head spins.

He’s fucking thanking you.

You manage to moan out a few praises that are punctuated by his sharp needy thrusts. He pulls his face away from his neck when he’s close. You can see it on his face, begging you to come first. He slips his metal hand down to your clit, stroking the already sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes widen at the coolness against it.

“Please come” He moans and it doesn’t take you long to oblige his plea, the metal hand on your clit, the whines from Bucky and his cock hitting you deep pushes you over the edge and you come, clenching him hard.

“You’re so beautiful” He says in awe. “Please can I come— please doll” Bucky’s thrusts are faltering.

“fill me up Bucky~” You moan and that’s all it takes, his thrusts become harder, your body jolting from the force, you’ll feel this in your hips in the morning. You could always heal it away. But you probably won’t. You place a hand over his neck holding it loosely, your other hand raking through his hair.

Bucky thrusts into you hard and deep, with hoarse moans of thank you as he comes inside you, filling you up. He simply stays inside you after, his body moving with his deep ragged breaths before he collapses on top of you, making sure to use some strength to stop him crushing you. You stroke his hair, muttering soft praises.

He rolls off you, his honey toned skin covered in a sheen of sweat that made him look godly. Your legs are jelly; you aren’t even sure you can use them for the next few days. Bucky stands and walks to your bathroom, giving you the perfect view of his sculpted ass and returns a few moments later with a warm wet cloth to clean you up with.

When the both of you are cleaned up, Bucky begins to wipe away the crushed pieces of headboard from your bed sheepishly.

“Sorry doll” He says quietly.

“It’s okay” You assure. “It was hot. Made me feel like Bella Swan” You joke.

Bucky looks at you, not understanding the reference.

“From Twi… never mind” You hum, helping to brush off the little pieces of wood. He lays back down and pulls you into his arms.

“Doll… I… I have never felt like that before. What did you do to me? I am under a spell when it comes to you.”

You yawn and let out a sleepy laugh. “You’re telling me. I don’t think I could sleep with a regular dude again after that”

It’s not long until exhaustion rushes through you. Super solider stamina is no joke. You drift off, head on his chest. Bucky watches the soft rise and fall of your chest, your soft snores filling the room.

And for the first time in what feels like forever; Bucky has a deep, dreamless sleep. His nightmares paused as he slumbers beside your soft, warm body.

It’s late when Bucky wakes up. Your side of the bed is cold. He glances at the clock on his phone, reading 11:07am, and a text from you, timestamped two hours ago:

‘Morning sleepy head. I didn’t wanna wake you. You looked too comfortable ;)’

He smiles at the text and looks for his clothes, only to find you must have taken a trip to his room to grab some fresh clothes. There is a towel on a chair with a new set of clean clothes and a pair of boxers.

When he’s all cleaned up and dressed he makes his way to the kitchen. You’re talking to Wanda, Steve and Sam.

“Bucky good morning!” Your sweet voice drifts over to him. “You slept in late. Are you feeling okay? Late night?” It’s an innocent question, no one bats an eyelash at it. You’re the healer of the team, and you’re concerned. But Bucky bites back a groan at the implications they both know is behind the sweet words.

Before Bucky can respond, Tony walks in.

“Hey Hippocrates” Tony calls out to you. “Why did F.R.I.D.A.Y tell me you needed a new headboard for your bed?

Oops.

-END-

[appocalipse]

the same thing ・❥・b. barnes

summary: during a mission, you put yourself in harm's way to protect bucky. back at the avengers compound, he wants to know why. | 1.4k words, angst with a happy ending

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

"You should be resting."

You don't turn your head as the familiar voice comes from behind you, too focused on the delicate art of making the perfect sandwich to look away. You are a woman on a mission. "I was hungry."

A few seconds later, he's standing next to you, leaning back against the countertop with arms folded across his broad chest. "It's been less than twelve hours since they patched you up."

He's not going to stop hovering, you realize, because that's what Bucky does when he's worried.

"Want half?" Maybe you can distract him with food.

He regards the towering monstrosity on the cutting board and the chaotic layers of meat, cheese, and veggies sticking out at all angles.

You can't help but grin as you slap another slice of bread on top. "A quarter, then?"

Bucky has the audacity to look offended. "I'm not eating that thing."

You cradle the plate in your left hand, holding the sandwich with your right, and give him a pointed look. "Your loss."

Bucky just watches, arms still crossed, as you take a huge bite. His blue eyes remain narrowed, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He's like a one-man intervention waiting to happen. You shrug and wander over to the kitchen table.

Sitting down is a bit of an effort. The wound on your side pulls as you slowly lower yourself onto the chair, but if you can keep from grimacing too hard, Bucky won't be able to tell, will he?

Your smile probably gives you away. He narrows his eyes further. "Why did you do that?"

"Because I'm hungry?"

"No." Bucky takes a step forward. "I meant why did you get between me and that shot?"

Good question. The answer is embarrassing and you'd sooner walk barefoot over hot coals than tell him the truth.

"Hm?"

Another step. "I have superhuman healing powers."

"I'll live."

"It was stupid."

"You're ruining my—ow," you mutter, dropping the sandwich as you instinctively put your hand over your bandage. There goes the carefully maintained poker face. You force yourself to remove your hand and look up at Bucky with what you hope is an innocent expression, even as your side throbs in protest. "My sandwich. You're ruining my sandwich. Are you sure you don't want a bite?"

Bucky is too smart to take the bait. He moves around the table, coming to stand in front of you. The whole 'arms-crossed-stern-glare' thing again. It would be intimidating if you didn't know him so well.

"You could've been killed," he's like a dog with a bone, you swear.

"But I wasn't," you say pointedly. "I'm fine."

"Fine? You were shot."

"Will you just let it go? It doesn't even...hurt...that much," you lie.

It will take a while for the super-soldier serum in your blood — a weaker variation of the same stuff that runs through Bucky's veins — to kick in and accelerate your healing.

Bucky exhales. He looks about ready to give you an earful, but then his gaze shifts and he notices the way you're holding your side, how stiffly you're sitting.

You move your traitorous hand away like you've been burned.

"How bad is it?"

"Huh?" you sound deliberately casual. Too casual. "It's...totally fine. Not bad, really. Don't worry. I don't even feel it."

There's the reason why you've never been a spy. You can't lie to save your life, apparently.

Or maybe just not to Bucky.

"Okay. It hurts, like, just a little bit...like—like not even hurts hurts, just..." you trail off with a grimace as he comes closer. "More of an itch?"

"An itch?" Bucky sounds dubious.

"More of a burn," you concede. "A...mildly annoying but totally manageable sort of a burn."

"You are a terrible liar."

"Okay, so it hurts," you snap, the last vestiges of your patience vanishing. "I have an extensive hole in my side, I get it. It's not—I don't want you to feel bad about it. It's really not terrible, I can take it."

Bucky shakes his head. "What if it had been worse? What if they'd shot you somewhere vital?"

"They didn't."

"But what if they had?"

"Then I would have died!"

Bucky looks at you like you just kicked him. "Yeah. That's what I'm trying to say."

You open your mouth, then close it.

"You think I want that?" he asks softly.

"No." You suddenly feel very small. "Of course not, I just...just..."

"Just what?"

"I don't know," you admit with a sigh. "It's just that you are...people need you, you know? And you have a life, people who care about you, but I'm just..."

A nobody. A girl with no past, who can barely make sense of her present.

"...it would be better if it was me. That's all."

"It would never be better if you were hurt."

"Bucky—"

"You don't get it, do you?" he asks in a low voice. "People need you too."

You roll your eyes. "Please. You mean the team?"

"Me," Bucky says pointedly. "You think it's easy for me? When you get hurt? It kills me."

The sandwich lays forgotten on the table, squashed flat under your clasped hands. "It...kills you?"

He just looks at you for a long moment.

Your heart flutters in your chest. You have a sudden, intense urge to break the silence with a terrible joke, a quip, something light and witty to dispel the heaviness in the air and make this moment go away. But before you can open your mouth, Bucky shakes his head.

"You kill me."

Okay, that's not where you thought this was going. "What?"

"When you say stuff like that. When you make it sound like you don't matter, like it's okay for you to get hurt. Or worse. It's not."

Oh.

"Bucky," you try again, with a more serious tone. "I don't—"

"Stop saying that," he cuts you off.

You realize your mouth is still hanging open and snap it shut.

"You want to know what I think?" Bucky is so close now you could reach out and touch him, if you were brave enough. "I think that you got this...thing in your head, that you're not good enough, or strong enough, or that you're broken somehow. I think that you forget that it's okay to want things. I think that maybe you think nobody needs you. That no one wants you."

You swallow. You're afraid to say anything, to move, because your heart is hammering against your ribs and Bucky is looking at you like he can see straight into your soul.

"But I do."

"Do...what?" you whisper.

"Want you."

It's the last thing you expect to hear. "Bucky, you don't mean that."

His voice drops an octave. "Don't tell me what I mean."

Your cheeks are burning. You feel pinned under his gaze. Your side is throbbing again and you have a mouthful of butterflies and it's all just too much.

You move to get up but only make it halfway before the wound pulls again and you wince. "Shit."

"Where do you think you're going?" Bucky reaches out to help you, one hand braced against your shoulder as you sink back down into the chair. His expression has softened. "You need to rest."

You really want to kiss him right now.

It's the closest he's ever been to you, perhaps. You can feel his breath on your face.

"I need to...? You really confuse me, Barnes."

"How so?"

"Well, first you tell me that I kill you, and then you say you want me. It's kind of a mixed message—"

"I'm not interested in being just friends with you," Bucky cuts you off abruptly. "Is that clear enough?"

Your lips part but nothing comes out. There's a warm, tingling sensation in your chest and you suddenly can't breathe properly. "That's—you—"

Bucky smirks, just a little. He looks almost...proud of himself? Like he's happy he's rendered you speechless for once.

You decide to take a page from his book and put him on the spot. "And what do you think I want?"

"I don't know," he murmurs, leaning even closer. "But I hope it's the same thing."

His lips brush against yours, soft and gentle. He pulls away and you want to chase after him but then he's back again and kissing you harder this time, all teeth and tongue and ragged breathing and heat.

You close your eyes. Your head is spinning and you can't get enough air but you're kissing him back now, both hands coming up to fist in his shirt, holding on for dear life.

His mouth trails down your neck, leaving hot kisses along your jawline. You let out a breathy sigh.

"Is that...supposed to help me heal faster, mhm?"

Bucky just smiles against your skin.

[itsmrvlxf1]

I love how we say "PROTECT THIS CHARACTER AT ALL COSTS" and then we go and hurt them like they have never been hurt before

[multiversediaries]

LOVE BRUISES

⤷ BUCKY BARNES X READER

Summary: A passionate night with Bucky caused a painful cervix bruise. Now all healed up, your boyfriend is scared to hurt you again.

Warning: soft and very cute, domestic buck! mentions of sex, small smut!

Part count: 1/2

A/N: hope you all enjoy! i absolutely adore domestic buck <3 apologies for any mistakes! english is not my first language :( i recently had eye surgery so my vision is a bit impaired! please do let me know of any grammatical mistakes!!

Your eyes widen at the intense pain you were currently feeling. A curse slipped from your lips, as you tried sitting on your shared bed. It was the day after an intense night with your long time boyfriend, Bucky Barnes.

Bucky could be rough at times, not that you hated it. In the contrary, you would find yourself begging the Winter Soldier to touch you, and pound you harder. But it seems like yesterday was too much for you to handle.

You made your way towards your bathroom, trying to continue on with your day. But the awful pain in your back and abdomen was driving you absolutely inside.

Samuel leaned back into his chair, staring at you, as you walked into the living room. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the way you were walking.

“You good?” Sam chuckled, crossing his arms infront of his chest. You shot him an annoyed look, shaking your head. You walked up to the couch, attempting to sit down without hurting yourself even more. “Rough night?” Sam teased you, raising an eyebrow at you. You snickered at him, knowing he probably heard you both last night. You remember how loud you were, not that your sore throat was any reminder.

“Too rough, it seems.” You replied, biting your lip. It was embarrassing to talk about this with Sam, but you were all so close to each other.

“No shit.” Sam laughed, throwing his head back whilst laughing still. You shook your head softly, furrowing your eyebrows, feeling a bit nauseous now. Sam’s laughter soon died down, as he saw your pained expression. “Oh, shit.”

“I’m fine! I swear.” You started, waving your arms in front of you, to try and stop Sam from panicking. “Bucky’s just… a big man, y’know? And we can get pretty… Let’s just say it was bound to happen.” You blushed at your own words. Bucky was much bigger than you, in height and built.

“I think I should get checked up, though. Pain’s pretty bad.” You continued, trying to change the conversation. You didn’t want to talk about your sex life to Bucky’s best friend. Sam sat up straight, biting his lip in worry.

“Shit, maybe he bruised you.” Sam said softly. This was probably it. It happens all the time, but this was your very first time experiencing something like this. You sighed softly, nodding your head.

“Do you mind distracting Buck while I go? Don’t want him to worry about this.” You asked.

“Oh, that ain’t gon’ work. Don’t you know the man?” Sam shook his head, knowing how overprotective Bucky was with you.

“Oh, come on, Sam. I won’t be long, just distract him—“

“Distract me from what?” You heard the man of the hour say softly. You closed your eyes, biting your bottom lip. Great. You slowly turned to look at him, staring at his serious expression. A smile instantly appeared in your lips, being so whipped for your boyfriend. His expression softened by your sweet face, now walking closer to you in the couch.

“Nothing. Just wanna get checked up really quick.” You said gently, trying to avoid certain words to prevent any worry from him. However, he knew you like the back of his hand, and he knew you were hiding something from him.

“Checked up? For what?”

“Oh, just—”

“She’s sore.” Sam started, your eyes widen quickly before quickly turning to look at Sam, your eyes begging him to shut up. “From last night.” He continued, and you couldn’t help but sigh, Bucky’s eyes widen, quickly meeting yours. He took in the sight of you, as if looking for discomfort and pain.

“What?— Did I hurt you, doll?” Bucky’s voice softened, his hands cupping your face, now kneeling in front of you. You could’ve sworn you almost melted into your seat.

“No, Buck, of course not!” You started, shaking your head, your hands laying on top of his in your face. You genuinely didn’t want him to worry or even worse, blame himself. You heard him sigh, knowing deep inside you were lying. He could feel your tense muscles; probably from the pain.

“I’ll take you to the clinic, okay?” He continued to softly speak to you. You sighed gently as his loving hands left your face to gently caress your thigh.

Cervical bruising.

God, it was extremely embarrasing to hear your doctor explain how to practice safe sex right in front of your long term partner. You remember how awkward the drive home was. Silent. Not uncomfortable, you could never be uncomfortable with Bucky, but you could just tell he felt terrible for overworking you that night.

Nights have passed awfully slow. You felt restless. Probably because your usually, very physically loving boyfriend rarely touched you. It was as if Bucky was somewhat scared of hurting you with his touch. Scared that a single caress could break you. The first nights, he even went as far as making a wall out of your extra pillows, just to be extra sure he wouldn't roll over you or embrace you at night. You ensured him it was not necessary, but after the advices of your doctor to hopefully ease your pain, Bucky was adamant to your safely and comfort. Bucky even went as far as getting you a heating pad, as your doctor explained how it would help with the pain. He just wanted you to be safe and healthy.

Bur you only craved the touch of your gentle soldier. For these endless couple of nights, Bucky would shower before bed, as usual, and hop into his side of the bed. He'd place a sweet, awfully short peck to your lips, roll on his side and fall asleep. It started to hurt your feelings how he seemed to rest so well without hugging you through the night. Soon enough, a couple of nights had passed since your small, and embarrassing injury. You felt as if you were going insane. You weren't only craving the sweet embrace of your man at night, you were also so incredibly horny.

You felt like a teenager, getting excited by the single sight of Bucky resetting his metal arm, or by the way his necklace would dangle over your face whenever he would help you to bed. It was the smallest things that would just get you going. You were currently watching as Sam and Bucky continued to fix Sam's family boat, standing by a pole, gently leaning on it. Bucky was wearing a short sleeve grey t-shirt, that accentuated his muscles perfectly. It brought butterflies to your stomach as Bucky noticed your frame, his attention now on his beautiful girl.

"Wait inside, baby. Don't want you to stand in the sun like that." Bucky spoke, a bit loud for you to hear. You smiled at him, shaking your head.

"It's okay! I'm a bit bored inside... Anything I can help with?"

"Yeah, actually! Grab that-"

"Sam." Bucky leaned over to softly slap Sam's chest. "No. She's supposed to be resting.' He continued, earning a small groan to leave your lips. Sam chuckled, raising his arms up in defense. Bucky wiped his greasy hands, walking towards you right after. "Doctor's orders." He said, his voice stern yet so incredibly loving, as if he were still worried. "I'll get you a chair, mhm? You can watch us or somethin." He mumbled, planting a sweet kiss to your cheek, before walking away. You let out a big sigh, closing your eyes in annoyance.

"Doctor's orders, he said." Sam mocked, a smirk in his face. A small grin appeared on your lips as you heard him mock your overprotecting boyfriend.

"I'm okay now. It happened almost two weeks ago and he's still..." You started, walking a bit closer to Sam. It was true. You felt all back to normal, and had been feeling this way for a few days now. No pain, no discomfort. You just felt needy.

"Y’know he's all intense like that." Sam said, offering you a small smile, while still working on the boar. You nodded, shrugging your shoulders. Bucky was just very overprotective over you, you knew this. It wasn't out of character for him to act this way. But now that you were all healed, you couldn't help but feel a bit bad, a bit unwanted even.

You spent the entire day, sitting, watching them work. Whenever you'd try to help, your sergeant of a boyfriend would order you back to your seat. You were only allowed to do small work, like hold their tools, which was exactly what you were doing right now. Here you stood, by the first floor of the boat, holding a screw driver as Bucky tried to fix the motor. You were so incredibly bored, but your mind was definitely active, dirty thoughts filling your mind. His grey shirt was now wet, and stained. It hugged his body even better than before.

"You okay, doll?" Bucky chuckled as he watched you, watching him. He had noticed a while ago, yet had decided to not mention it, loving your gaze on him. Your cheeks flushed, nodding your head.

"You look good." You simply said, your ears turning red. embarrassed by being caught staring. There was just so much tension between you, sexual tension.

"Yeah?" Bucky cockily asked, tilting his head, to follow your eyes as you tried hiding your flushed expression. He had even placed his tools down, now fully entertaining you. You nodded your head, now staring into his eyes, giggling softly. Your laugh died very quickly now swallowing hard as you took in how close he was.

His hands took their place in your hips. He felt you shake at his touch, noticing his effect on you. His face so close to yours, you could feel his breathing by your cheek. Bucky licked his lips, his eyes roaming your entire body, fully checking you out. His breath hitched, watching you be so visibly affected by him. It was so obvious how both of you were so deprived of one another.

You don't even remember who started the kiss. You just know your hands were now tangled in his soft hair, as Bucky devoured your mouth. There was no point in stopping the moans and whimpers that left your mouth, you were in pure bliss. Your tongues continued to explore each other's mouth, kissing passionately. Bucky would pull away for air, hissing in between kisses, genuinely feeling as if he were going insane. He was desperate. So desperate that his hands lifted you up, sitting you down on the same motor he had been trying to fix earlier. He now stood between your legs, his hands cupping your head, kissing you deeply and lovingly.

"Oh, baby..." Bucky whimpered once he pulled away for air yet again. Both your chests rising up and down, already exhausted by your very heated make out session. Bucky's hands ran ro your thighs, gently rubbing them continiously. His eyes were closed, and his forehead stayed glued to yours. Your eyes opened, missing the feeling of his lips on yours, needing more of him. You hummed, in confusion, yet Bucky's eyes stayed closed, wetting his lips. He seemed to be containing himself. His hands on your thighs now squeezing them, trying to calm him eager and lust down. You could simply tell he was holding back from loving you.

No.

You connected your lips yet again, grabbing ahold of his shirt, and crashing your lips together, where they belonged. You refused to go down without a fight. You refused to let him get away. A moan left his lips, his hands starting to run to your waist, needing to feel you yet again. It felt so good, so right. Your heads continued to tilt, allowing each other access ro just eat each other's lips. You remember his tongue brushing over your bottom lip, God, it was all so messy. Goosebumps cpvered your entire skin, this was his effect on you. This heaven of yours was adrumptedly interrupted yet again. Bucky has disconnected your lips, his hands now gripping your thighs yet again.

"Y/N..." his breath shuttered. God, he was so desperate and you knew this. You knew him like the back of your hand, and you could just tell by the way he refused to meet your eyes that he was holding back. You could tell by the way his body seemed to not want to obey his words, still caressing you.

"No, doll. We…” Buck tried saying, one of his hands now running through his face, as shaky breaths left his mouth. He was long gone. It was taking everything in him. “Shit, we can’t.”

"What?"

Bucky looked up to meet your eyes, his hands now on your waist, caressing your exposed skin with his thumbs. He sighed shakily, trying to get his breathing under control. He was scared to hurt you again. He was scared he'd lose control like he had done last tine, and hurt you. You gulped as you watched him, searching for a response in his face.

"Can hurt you again, baby. You haven't even healed."

"Bucky..." Your hands now laid on top of his. "I'm all healed up! I promise." You started, earning a few shakes of his head. "Yes, Buck. It hasn't hurt for a while now."

Bucky simply shook his head yet again. A big sigh left his lips, as he now hid his face in the comfort of the crook of your neck. Your arms carefully wrapped around his broad shoulders, feeling your loving boyfriend leave soft, wet kisses on your sweet skin. You couldn't stop yourself from shuttering at the gesture. Only after a few seconds, Bucky leaned back, pecking your red lips just one more time, before helping you down to your feet. He took a deep breath, and long look at you, before turning back to continue his work on the motor. The motor he almost took you on top of just now.

You frowned deeply, your head almost dropping in defeat. You put your hair in a ponytail, feeling hot after everything that had just happened. You wanted to be mad, really, you did. But how could you? When this man loved you so much he kept holding himself back in fears of possibly hurting you? You were just... upset. How would you convince this man of yours you had healed? and that he could never hurt you?

"I'm 'bout to come down." You both heard Sam announce from above. You both chuckled at Sam, shaking your head softly. Bucky grinned widely, watching as Sam came down the stairs cautiously.

“Why are you the way you are?” Bucky said between chuckles, grabbing a hold of his tools yet again.

"Y'all are forbidden from doin' it inside my family boat, I hope y'all know that." Sam mumbled, walking towards the both of you. Bucky snickered, softly hitting him in the shoulder. You laughed a bit, leaning back and watchihg them work.

Your mind soon went back to the same question...

How would you take those negative thoughts out of the mind of James Barnes? When would you feel the loving touch of your boyfriend again?

Fucking cervix bruise.

[fungateshortcakes]

Jealous much?

Pairing: dofp!Logan x fem!teacher!Reader

Summary: What happens when Logan finds the father of one of your students flirting with you after class?

Wordcount: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: Jealous!Logan, established relationship (you are married), flirting, Logan asserting dominance to the guy that thinks he has a chance with you, smitten Logan bc he loves u so much, reader is implied to be 'turned on' once, no use of (y/n), english is not my first language!

_________________

I love love LOVE jealous Logan. Someone (I think it was by @pandapetals) made a fic where Logan and reader were married and a students mother was flirting with Logan, which pissed reader off and she has to show the lady who has that man wrapped around her finger already. That was so YUMMY so this is the Logan-being-jealous counterpart, hope you enjoy!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

The end of the school day brought with it a familiar sense of relief and exhaustion. You loved your job, but after spending hours with a classroom full of high-energy students, you were ready to pack up and head to your room in the mansion.

The thought of your shared room and of your husband Logan waiting there brought a small smile to your face. But as you were tidying up your desk, the last few students leaving your classroom, you heard a voice call your name. Your head wiped around as you heard it. “Excuse me, Miss!” At first, you thought it was one of your students, but their voice was too deep to be a teenage boy.

You turned to see Mr. Reed, a tall, polished man with a charming smile. You recognized him immediately. He was the father of one of your more rambunctious students, Jason Reed. He seemed to live in this school, it was weird just how often you saw him around. He attended every single one of the parent evenings you hosted - only yours. And he often sought you out to have a conversation with him and his son. You didn't think too much of it, it was your job after all to answer the parents questions if they had any concerns.

You gave him a friendly wave as he approached. “Oh, hey, Mr. Reed” you greeted warmly, pausing in your steps. "Is there something you needed?

The man gave a casual shrug, slipping his hands into the pockets of his well-tailored suitjacket. “I was hoping to catch you for a moment. My son just won’t stop talking about you. Miss "the-coolest-teacher-ever’” he added with a chuckle, his blue eyes holding a distinct shimmer in them.

You laughed softly. Hearing this went down like honey. You were always happy to know that your students were enjoying your class. You were the teacher you wanted to be since you were a student yourself. The teacher that made other students feel safe, that didn't make them feel like they were pressured and had to deliver a certain level of performance to be good enough "Well, Jason is a great kid. He’s got so much energy. I can barely keep up sometimes, but I’m glad to hear he is liking my classes this far."

“Oh, absolutely. You’ve really made a difference for him” Mr. Reed said, his voice dipping into something smoother, something deeper. “He’s had a hard time adjusting to his mutation, you know. And the abilities that come with it. But since he’s been in your class, I can tell he’s a lot happier. More confident" he praised you highly, teeth bared in a dashing smile to you. “And that’s all thanks to you. I don’t know how you do it, managing a class full of kids with various mutations and powers they can't quite control yet. It’s impressive.”

You waved your hand dissmisvely at the single father, giggling bashfully. You weren't used to such direct praise from parents, not even from him. “I'm flattered, but it’s not just me" you replied modestly. “Mr. Xavier has build a great support system over the years.”

Mr. Reed clicked his tounge at your humble answer. “Don’t sell yourself short” he flashed you another grin. “You clearly have a talent with kids. Jason has made more progress in the past few months than he ever has before. I’m not sure how I could ever thank you properly.”

His tone was friendly for the time being. The conversation continued. And at first it felt completely professional, how it should be. Mr. Reed asked about Jason’s curriculum, your teaching methods and even about the schools approach to managing the students unique abilities. You were more than happy to answer all his questions, oblivious to the way he started inching closer.

“It’s just refreshing” he said, leaning casually against the wall next to you, his eyes subtly roaming your figure “to meet someone as smart, kind and beautiful as you. Jason’s lucky to have you as his teacher. The whole class is.”

The realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. He wasn’t just being nice. He was flirting. You blinked, your polite smile faltering. “Oh, um, thank you” you replied, starting to feel a little awkward. It showed with the way you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. A sign for him that you were all shy and bashful around him. Far from that. You felt really uncomfortable.

"I’m lucky, too, really” he added, fueling the bad feeling in your gut. His eyes sweeped over you, this time less subtle, in a way that made your skin prickle, but not the good kind.

Then he decided to just go for it and ask the big question. He was impatient and wasn't in the mood to wait until you initiated something first. He had waited long enough. “Do you ever take time for yourself? Maybe let someone take you out for dinner?”

Your composure completely faltered for a second. The nerve this guy had. Didn't he see the obvious gold ring on your finger or did he purposefully decided to ignore it? You opened your mouth, trying to come up with a diplomatic way to shut this down, but you didn’t get the chance to.

“Everything alright in here?”

Logan’s gruff voice cut through the hallway like a blade, low and unmistakably annoyed. You turned to see him striding toward you, eyeing Mr. Reed like a wild animal stalking its prey. His broad shoulders were squared, his jaw set, and his dark eyes locked onto the other man with visible irritation.

You jumped as if you had just been caught cheating. “Logan” you squeaked surprised.

He huffed through his nose, his nostrils flaring like the ones of an angry bull that was riled up by the red in its vision. Well, when he had this loser of a man flirt with a goddess like you, his goddess, then he saw red. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt” Logan nearly growled, his tone anything but apologetic as he stopped next to you.

Mr. Reed blinked, clearly caught off guard. He swallowed thickly “Oh, I was just-” he tried to save the situation, or rather his own life, but Logan cut him off. “Flirtin’ with my wife?” Logan asked, arching a brow.

Mr. Reed’s face went pale as the snow falling outside the mansion, coating the gardenwith a thin layer of white. His eyes searched for your hand. They went wide as he looked at the wedding band you had been proudly wearing for six years now as if it had just appeared. “You-wait, you’re married?”

“Sure am” Logan said, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you firmly against his side, securing you there. Marking his territory. His grip was warm and possessive and you could feel the tension radiating from him.

Mr. Reed stammered, his eyes darting between you and Logan in embarrassement and if you looked correctly, a little bit of fear. “I-I had no idea. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean-” he stuttered out, laughing awkwardly in a bad attempt to play down his nervousness.

“Yeah, well, now you know,” Logan said flatly. “So maybe next time, think twice before you try to fuck someones woman" he spat, taking a step closer to Mr. Reed. You gasped softly at Logans word and placed a hand on his chest, giving him a warning look. “Logan” you muttered softly, trying to rein him in like a guard dog that was ready to pounce if its owner let him. You couldn't say that this side of him didn't turn you on immensly. But you didn’t need to get scolded by Charles for scaring off a parent.

But Logan wasn’t done. He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. “And just so we’re clear, she’s not interested. Ever” He snarled, down right barked his last word into Reeds face, who then mumbled another apology before practically fleeing down the hallway, leaving you alone with Logan.

Once he was gone, you turned to your husband with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “and that was really necessary?" you chuckled with a proud smirk. “Damn right it was” Logan replied, his hand still possessively gripping your hips, smoothing over them. “Guy needed to know who he was dealin’ with.”

You sighed, but your lips twitched into a small smile as you leaned against your broad and strong teddy bear of a husband. “You know I can handle myself, right?”

Logans lips pulled into the slightest smile as he looked down at you as if you were the most precious thing in the whole universe. “Yeah, I know” Logan muttered, his tone softening as he admired your pretty face. That pretty face he had the privilege to wake up to every morning because you were his wife. His. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna let some jackass hit on you though.”

You giggled, shaking your head fondly, reaching up to cup his gruff cheek. “You’re ridiculous.”

Logan shrugged “Maybe” he said, smirking. “But you like ridiculous. Wouldn’t have married me otherwise, missy" he rumbled deep in his chest, making you smile because it was the truth. You married him for it. Married him for everything he was. “Guilty as charged" you murmured with a smile, standing on your toes to kiss him softly.

Logan’s arms wrapped around you fully, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss. By the time he pulled away, his loving smirk had returned, but his eyes were filled with something softer. Something only you got to see. Something that you wanted to see for the rest of your life just from him.

“Still don’t like sharin’,” he muttered. You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “You don’t have to.”

And as Logan laced his fingers with yours, leading you towards the mansions garden to take a relaxing stroll through the green and white landscape after this unpleasant encounter, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the man who’d fight the world to keep you by his side.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

And weirdly enough, you never saw Mr. Reed after that, not even at the parent evenings. I wonder why...

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[darealsaltysam]

hey tumblr. you should read my xmen fic. the second chapter just came out. this image tells you all you need to know about the plot. thanks <3