#swat officer!Nat

[desert-fern]

Alright I’m back again, can I request Phoenix as either an EMT/Paramedic/Firefighter or Law Enforcement?

Figured I’d let you have dealers choice in terms of options for our lovely lady.

“LAPD SWAT! Put the gun down slowly and hands in the air!”

NGL Mal, I would do some awful shit to get hauled down by this officer… Not sure what would warrant SWAT getting called on my ass, but I’m okay with it.

You have until February 22nd to request a moodboard from me and join in the celebration!

The moodboard masterlist is here!

[stevesbestgirl]

Their Girl - Game Day

Soft!Daddy!Stucky X Little!F!Reader

Warnings: age regression, brief descriptions of food, passive alcohol consumption (nothing major), reader gets overstimulated, younger than usual regression, crybaby queen reader, reader’s hand gets swatted, but no real violence

4275 words

A/N: This is part of Season 2 of Their Girl! Season 2 is still in progress and won’t be posted until it’s finished, but there is a new character in this part that hasn’t technically been introduced yet. Rest assured, the remaining pieces will come in time, but it’s Super Bowl Sunday here in the U.S., so enjoy! 

"Papa, I don't wanna watch football," you pouted as Steve pulled a Giants jersey over your head.

He cupped your chin, "Can I tell you a secret?" You gave a solemn nod and he cracked a half smile, brushing his thumb over the line of your jaw, "I don't really care about football either. But it makes Daddy happy and helps him get along with Uncle Tony. Do you think you can help me?"

"Can I take my game with me?"

Steve pressed his mouth into a thin line; he should have expected that. "Yes." Your face split into a grin, but Steve held up a finger, "But we're staying until the end of the game. And if I hear any complaining-"

You shook your head, "I won't."

He tapped your nose, "Good girl. Now let's get going." He hoisted you up on his hip, grabbing your backpack with his other hand.

You leaned out to watch him scoop it up, a curious look on your face. Steve chuckled, "What is it, sweetheart?"

Your cheeks warmed, "Daddy is strong." You never got tired of how easily he carried you around.

He squeezed your leg, "You like it when I carry you around?" You buried your face in his shoulder in lieu of answering. He pressed a kiss into the top of your head, "Good thing I like carrying my baby around too."

You smiled, still feeling shy as Bucky came into view, leaning against the couch. "Look at my girl," he grinned, pushing off and striding toward you. 

As Bucky reached for you, Steve spun you away, clearing his throat and puffing out his chest. Bucky grinned, changing course to cup the back of Steve's neck, "And my guy, of course."

Steve rolled his eyes, "Sure thing, Buck."

Bucky pulled him in for a kiss anyway. "Now c'mere, you," Bucky held his arms out and Steve handed you over. "Are you ready, doll?"

"Did you get my game, Papa?"

"Got it," Steve held it up before he zipped it up inside the backpack.

The three of you headed to the rec room, which Steve had promised would have fun things to do.

You could smell the rec room before Bucky even opened the door; the scent of pizza and chicken wings wafted out. The sound of chatter followed, growing exponentially louder as Bucky opened the door.

Inside, Peter and Wanda were making a racket at the foosball table. Tony, Thor, Loki, Nat and Bruce were seated at the ring of sofas that centered around the enormous television. To your surprise, there was another adult present, seated on the opposite end of Tony's sofa. It was your new friend from the office, Stephen Strange. You offered a shy wave, your comfort around him having dwindled since your last meeting.

"Thought you guys were gonna miss kickoff," Tony noted.

"It took a little bit of convincing to get everybody here," Bucky grimaced, setting you down.

Bruce held out an arm for a hug and you climbed onto the sofa next to him, tucking underneath and into his side, "Hi Bruce."

"Hey kiddo, how's it going?" You shrugged. "That bad, huh?"

"I don't like football."

"Why not?"

"Too much yelling."

He grimaced, "People get excited, huh?" You nodded. "What if you got excited too? Would it be okay then?"

You shrugged again, "Maybe."

"Why not give it a try? You might like it."

You stayed quiet; you didn't know if you wanted to like it.

Loki caught your eye from the sofa across from you, drawing a chuckle from Bruce, "Go on."

You hopped across the aisle to climb up next to Loki, "Do you like football?"

He shrugged, "Would be better with weapons."

You glanced at the TV again; you didn't think weapons were the problem, but you weren't going to argue with Loki. As one team kicked the ball all the way down the field to start the game and the crowd went crazy, you couldn't help but think that your daddies could have done a better job. But they were both watching the screen, even Steve, who had said he wasn't interested. 

"Did you bring your game?" Loki's gaze flicked from the screen to the group of adults, back to you.

You nodded, "In my backpack."

The corner of his mouth lifted, "Do you want to play?"

Glancing at Steve, you nibbled at your lower lip; it might be a bit early to ask. But you slipped off the couch and trotted over to Steve, hands clasped behind your back, "Papa, can I play my game with Loki please?"

He gave a soft chuckle, his gaze flicking to Loki on the other sofa, "It hasn't even been ten minutes, sweetheart."

You glanced over your shoulder at the TV, "But it's screen time, right?" You let your lip jut out a tiny bit, shuffling between Steve's legs. 

A little crease appeared between Steve's brows as Tony snorted a laugh, "She's not bad."

"You two can play, but not the whole time, alright angel?" Steve offered, ignoring Tony. He tipped his chin at the backpack by the sofa, "Go ahead."

You beamed, "Thank you!" Scuttling over, you rifled through the bag, pulling out your game and clamoring back onto the sofa beside Loki.

"Wait, I wanna play!" Wanda's voice piped up from the foosball table, a note of resentment at not being invited in her voice.

"Me too!" Peter echoed, scrambling to follow as Wanda grabbed her own game and climbed up next to you. 

Shuffling over to make room for her, you bumped shoulders with Loki, making him glance sharply away.

"Sorry," you murmured, pulling in to try giving him more space as Peter squeezed in between you and Wanda, crowding the sofa further.

"It's fine."

"Babydoll, do you want to sit with me?" Bucky patted his lap.

Nodding, you disentangled yourself from the others and scurried over to Bucky, who pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arm around you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You looked to Loki, "Are you ready?"

He nodded, though he looked a bit displeased, his mouth pressed into a thin line as Peter and Wanda chattered beside him.

You played, but Loki no longer seemed in the mood for it. He kept glancing at Thor as though he wanted to go home, but Thor, whose face was painted and had a plate piled with food, didn't seem to be going anywhere soon.

When the Giants made a big play, the room exploded with noise, even Bucky, who was usually so soft-spoken. He threw his free hand in the air in a fist,  "YES, WHAT A THROW!"

You tensed, squeezing your eyes closed as though it would muffle the sound. For once, Bucky didn't notice- he was focused on the game. Stifling the threat of a pout, you set your game down and wriggled out of Bucky's grasp, expecting him to protest. But he let you go, his fingers grazing your arm absently. 

Since you'd already gotten up, you had to find something to do. You slunk over to the food table, appraising the snacks, but you weren't really hungry. Glancing over at your daddies, you wanted them to notice you. Usually, they were so attentive that you couldn't hide anything from them, but today you couldn't seem to compete.

"Too loud?"

You'd been so busy watching Steve and Bucky that you hadn't noticed Peter trotting up to you; it looked like game time had been abandoned. Wanda was snuggling in with Natasha and Loki was speaking urgently in Thor's ear.

You hesitated before nodding; Steve had said no complaining. But Peter gave a knowing nod, "Me too." He held out a hand, "C'mon."

You followed him over to the closet. Inside, board games, blankets, and spare snacks filled the shelves. Eyeing a thick comforter at the very top, Peter climbed the shelves with ease, never wavering as he pulled the blanket out with one hand and tossed it down, following with two others before leaping from the top to land on the newly cushioned floor. 

You watched him wide-eyed, breathing a soft, "Wow," as Peter grinned up at you from his dismount.

He began spreading the blankets out in a dense pile on the floor, carefully closing the closet door to muffle the noise as another cheer went up from the sofa area.

Once he was satisfied with his nest, he fixed a serious gaze on you, "I'm gonna go get our stuff. I'll be right back."

He grabbed the door knob, but you touched his hand, "Wait, um," your cheeks flushed with warmth, "Could you get my paci from my backpack?"

Peter smiled and nodded before disappearing, closing the door behind him. You decided it was kind of nice in here; the door muffled the sound nicely and the blankets didn't even smell like a closet. You took another from the shelf, wrapping yourself up as Peter returned, slyly slipping back in and closing the door without a peep.

"Here, pretty girl," he said with earnest enthusiasm as he gave you your things: your game, your paci, and your sippy cup, also from your backpack. He also gave you a cookie from the snack table and a pair of blue headphones.

"I don't like loud noises sometimes either," he said nonchalantly, as though that explained everything.

"Thank you," you murmured, suddenly feeling shy at his attention. Peter was always nice to you, but this was different. He was looking at you the way small children often looked at babies, or children smaller than them; like he was honor-bound to make sure you were cared for.

Part of you wanted to reject his help; you didn't want to be the baby of the group, but you supposed Peter knew what that was like too. So you slid the headphones over your ears, muffling the sounds of the game even further, before you put your paci in and played your game. 

Never being allowed to play your game for this long at home, you lost yourself in it. It wasn't until the closet door opened, Tony on the other side, that you remembered where you were.

"Found them. What are we doing, playing Seven Minutes in Heaven?" He smirked, "I get next round."

Feeling extra small, you just stared up at him, eyelashes fanning your cheeks as you blinked in the bright light.

"It was too loud, Daddy," Peter explained, placing himself resolutely between you and Tony. 

"Pete, you can't-"

"Tony found them, Steve, in the closet," Bucky was calling back over his shoulder. Peering over Tony's shoulder, his expression melted into a smile, "What are you doing in there, babydoll?" Registering the doe-eyed look on your face, he gave you an easier question, "You comfy?"

Nodding, a contented smile peeked out from behind the pacifier. 

Peter didn't budge from his place, "See? She's comfy. We're having fun!" His fists were balled up, even though no grown ups had demanded the closet be vacated.

Steve appeared over Bucky's shoulder, "What is she doing in-" Much like Bucky, Steve instantly softened his tone at the sight of you swaddled up and dewy eyed, "What are you doing in there, angel?" Bucky murmured something in Steve's ear before turning his attention back to you, "It's halftime, princess, do you want to come out for some pizza?" He paused to placate Peter, "You two can come back when the game starts again, if you want."

Peter nodded adamantly, but it was your nod Bucky was waiting for. You were feeling slow, like Bucky's string of words needed to be untangled before you understood what he'd asked you.

With a soft whisper in Peter's ear, Tony guided him back to the party, leaving Steve and Bucky with you. Steve knelt in the doorway, offering a hand, "You hungry, sweetness?"

You blinked at him once before messily untangling the nest of blankets you'd buried yourself in and clamoring over to his hand. But instead of accepting his help standing, you raised both arms, "Up?"

Steve grinned, hoisting you up under the arms and taking you out of the closet to sit on his hip. He removed the headphones Peter had loaned you, setting them back in the closet with your other things.

You babbled softly to yourself, suddenly entranced with the way Steve's blonde hair caught the light, your fingers drawn to the glistening gold. Steve and Bucky talked, though you didn't have enough capacity to truly listen. 

"You don't think something is wrong, do you?"

"She seems happy."

"She doesn't usually get so small, Buck-"

"I know, Stevie," Bucky said soothingly. "We'll talk to her when she lets us." He kissed Steve on the cheek and you on the forehead before he veered toward the snack table, "I'll get her something to eat."

Steve fixed you with a puzzled look, "Is everything okay, sweetheart?" 

He brushed hair away from your face and you leaned into his touch, "Papa." The word was slurred and barely audible, but Steve heard. 

Fingers still buried in the hair behind his ear, you smushed your face into his neck, granting him a sloppy kiss, accented by a muffled, "Mwah." You giggled to yourself as Steve took his seat back on the couch, cradling you carefully in his lap.

You returned your attention to Steve's hair, fingers quickly undoing any attempt he'd made at styling it. He allowed it without complaint; it wasn't a secret that Steve liked having your attention, especially with an audience. 

"Papa pretty," you declared, both hands shrouded in Steve's golden crown, now tousled and messy. Natasha laughed, drawing a derisive look from Wanda. Loki, who had been unsuccessful in convincing Thor to leave, looked miserly and disinterested, tucked into the corner of the sofa with his game, though he wasn't playing. 

"Oh no, I don't think so," Steve suddenly tutted, capturing both of your hands in his, "My baby is the pretty one." And he buried his face in your neck, kissing and nibbling and tickling, your giggles devolving into gasping breaths by the time Bucky returned with food. 

Steve relented, gathering you back into his arms to make room for Bucky, but before he could settle, you were straining against his grasp, trying to get to Bucky, "Dadadadada."

"Hold on," Steve chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you in place. "Wait just a minute, sweet pea-"

"Dadada," you insisted, undeterred by Steve's interference. Reaching insistently for Bucky, you were no match for Steve's strength, eyes welling with frustrated tears.

Once Bucky was settled, he moved the plate safely out of the way, pulling you into his lap from Steve's grasp. 

He cupped your chin, wiping a stray tear away, "No need for that, Daddy's right here, princess." You sniffled, urgency forgotten now that you had Bucky. He leaned in closer, cooing, "We know you're extra little, but try to tell us what you need with your big girl words, okay doll?"

To his surprise, you shook your head, "Uh-uh."

"You don't want to use big girl words?"

But you only babbled back at him, the sounds not quite forming all the way.

Steve caught Bucky's eye, but Bucky didn't push further, keeping a close eye on you as you grabbed a fistful of goldfish crackers from the plate he'd brought, sloppily spreading a trail of them from the end table to your seat on the sofa. 

Steve captured your fist in his hand, trying to work the crackers loose before crumbs ended up scattered all over the rec room, "Here sweetness, we'll feed you instead, hm?"

But you let out a squeal of protest, fist instinctively jerking away and scattering crackers across the floor. 

Before you could process, there was a sting to the top of your fist; Steve had given you a sharp tap, "Hey!"

As the realization set in, you stared at Steve with a wobbly lip, sucking in a breath, but before you could cry, Peter exclaimed, "That's not nice!"

"Pete-" Tony began, trying to shush Peter from the snack table, but Peter ducked his arm and charged over to the sofa, crossing his arms expectantly at Steve.

"Hitting is mean."

Now that the attention was on someone else, you buried your face in Bucky's shoulder with a soft whimper, watching Peter and Steve. 

"Peter, honey," Steve tried to explain, "I didn't hit-"

"Yes you did, I saw," Peter insisted, though he glanced at your face, verifying your watery eyes and sniffles before he challenged Steve for the second time. 

"I would-"

"I saw too," Loki chimed in. Wanda was quiet under Natasha's guidance, but she nodded her agreement.

Steve looked pained, "That wasn't to hurt-"

"Steve just needed to get her attention," Bucky tried to help.

But Peter wasn't having it, "Pretty girl is little, she doesn't know." Catching the note of ferocity in his own tone, Peter dialed it back, stealing a glance back at Tony to make sure he wasn't in trouble yet, "You're strong Uncle Steve, what if you did hurt her hand on accident?"

Steve took a deep, calming breath, "I would never hurt her on purpose. I'll be more careful, okay Pete?"

Peter didn't appear convinced, but he nodded. Steve urged him over closer, speaking low, "You're doing a good job looking out for her, okay buddy? I appreciate it."

Peter nodded again, stealing another glance at you to make sure you were really okay. But before he could return to Tony, who was still at the snack table chatting with Stephen, you held out your hand, offering the last goldfish cracker clutched there.

Politely accepting a cracker, Peter scuttled back to Tony, his courage depleted after standing up to a grown up. 

Steve turned his guilty gaze back to you. You stared at him, tucked into the safety of Bucky's chest. He captured your now empty hand, pressing kisses into the back of it, "I'm sorry if I surprised you, sweetheart. Will you let me feed you, please?"

You nodded slowly, making no move to lift your head from Bucky; he was rubbing your back and it was making you sleepy. 

"Buck, she won't sleep tonight if she naps now," Steve warned, taking the plate from Bucky's free hand and offering you a bite of pizza.

Bucky chuckled at your groan of protest as he removed his hand, propping you up in his lap so you could eat, "C'mon doll, eat something for us?"

You nibbled the pizza half-heartedly, but it was enough for them, both men raining praises on you for being so good. You only ate a little, but Steve and Bucky were more focused on keeping you calm and happy. 

Suddenly remembering the party, you peeked at the others. Wanda was laying with her head in Nat's lap, playing her game solo. Peter was with Tony and Stephen at the snack table still, looking a bit shy. Thor was engrossed in the halftime report on the TV, bringing a large flagon to his lips for a deep drink, oblivious to the thunderstorm of atmosphere surrounding Loki beside him. 

Loki looked miserable. His game was turned off, resting on the arm of the sofa. He had his knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them so his chin rested in the gap in between.

Tugging Bucky's sleeve, you pointed, "Dada?"

Bucky spoke gently in your ear, "What is it, princess?"

You struggled for the words, "He sad."

"He does look a little sad, huh?" he murmured, stealing a glance at Steve to see if he was listening, but he was chatting with Nat and Bruce. "You wanna help?"

You nodded and Bucky dutifully carried you over, patiently waiting for you to speak, "Loki?" It didn't sound like it usually did- the syllables were disjointed, but Loki was already paying attention.

"Yes," he replied plainly.

"I sit?"

"Sure."

Bucky settled you in between Loki and Thor, "Shout if you need me, okay baby?" He kissed your forehead before he returned to Steve, who urgently spoke in his ear, his gaze on you.

Loki didn't strike up a conversation. Words weren't your strong suit at the moment, so you just leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder, "Okay?" Loki gave a short hum that sounded like approval, so you closed your eyes. 

After a minute or two, Loki shifted, lowering his legs. You sat up as he readjusted, and he glanced at you, "You can stay- if you want."

Smiling, you leaned on him again as he grabbed his game. Lighting up further, you pointed, "I watch?"

He gave a tight nod, "Sure."

So you watched him play for a few minutes, disturbed only slightly when Thor finally stood to refill his mug and get more food. When Thor came back, plopping into his seat and shifting the sofa, you were pushed further into Loki, sliding down into his cushion with him.

You let out a soft, surprised squeal, fingers curling around Loki's arm for support. You saw the way Bucky's head snapped to you, instantly seeking you out to make sure you were okay. Steve, who had never stopped watching, narrowed his eyes.

"My apologies, little one, are you alright?" Thor patted your head.

Giggling, you nodded, allowing Bucky to relax as the game started again. As the ball was kicked again, everyone settled back into their seats to watch, although the noise quickly picked back up.

Before long, there was a collective inhale across the room and then all of the adults started shouting.

"Come on!"

"That was pass interference! Are the refs blind?"

Thor thumped his fist on the arm of the sofa, "Foul play!"

Peter caught your eye from his place next to Tony before he stood. Moments later, he was in front of you, the pair of blue headphones and your pacifier brought from the closet. 

Rather than hand them to you, Peter carefully put the headphones on your head, though they weren't plugged in, and held the paci up to your lips.

"Fank you," you slurred around it, grateful to Peter but suddenly shy at the attention.

Peter grinned proudly before climbing back up next to Tony, who ruffled his hair. 

Loki grabbed the end of the headphone cable, plugging it into his game so the sound would cover the noise.

Resting your head back on Loki's shoulder, you could hear the faint murmur of chatter and the occasional exclamation following a big play, but the sound wasn't so overwhelming. 

And despite the dull uptick in the volume after each play, your eyelids grew heavy, your cheek smushed against Loki's shoulder. 

You woke as your seat suddenly shifted again, the collective shout loud enough to pierce the protection of the headphones. 

Jolting up to see Thor jump off the sofa, his fists raised in the air, "YES! YES!" The other adults cheered with him, but the sudden change in atmosphere was a shock. With a single sniffle, you burst into tears, the sound muffled underneath the din. 

Before you could inhale for a wail, a pair of arms hoisted you up, Steve's scent soothing you before you'd even caught a glimpse of blonde hair. 

"I've got you, sweetness," he cooed in your ear, whisking you back to his place next to Bucky. 

You sniffled weakly, lip trembling, but no one other than Loki seemed to have noticed anything was wrong. By the time Bucky finished cheering and Thor sat back down, Steve had you cradled in his lap, Peter's headphones playing soft music in your ears. 

Bucky smiled at you, brushing his thumb idly over your ankle. You blinked at him and Bucky instantly noticed the glitter of tears on your lashes, giving your ankle a soft squeeze and lifting a headphone to talk to you, "You okay, babydoll? You need to go home?"

Sloppily rubbing an eye, you shook your head, "Daddy havin' fun." 

But Bucky shook his head, leaning in closer, "You tell me if you need to go, okay?" He cupped your chin, "My baby is more important, alright?"

Cheeks warming under the intensity of his gaze, you nodded. Looking satisfied, Bucky sat back, though he rested his palm on your ankle, his thumb resuming its path. 

You curled your fingers into Steve's jersey, watching the people run around on the screen for lack of anything else to focus on. With Bucky's thumb tracing over your ankle and Steve's warm palm tracing your back, watching the game wasn't so bad. 

As a man in blue ran down the field, another cheer went up, growing louder as his long strides carried him down into the very end of the field. Thor launched from his seat shouting again, oblivious to the sharp look he got from Steve. But you were ready for it this time, clapping along with everyone else.

The room quickly got quiet as all the players lined up by the goalposts, the tension obvious.

Bucky's fingers slowed on your ankle, squeezing softly as the play started. You struggled to keep track of the ball, but the room exploded in cheers again and Bucky hoisted you off Steve's lap as he jumped up to match Thor's enthusiasm.

Giggling, you clapped again, "Did we win, Daddy?"

Bucky grinned, looking as excited as you'd ever seen him, "We sure did, babydoll."

"Yay!" 

Bucky looked so happy to see you excited about something he liked, blue eyes lit up with little crinkles around the corners of his eyes. Maybe you could like football too.

[babbygirlblues]

Sneaking Around

A/B/O AU!

Summary: Alpha!Nat is your secret girlfriend that sneaks away from the Sunday church crowd to fuck you in your fathers office. 

Note: some comments could be considered impious and anti-religious hehe, but I don’t want to offend anyone so… warning there, I'm just playing around with A/B/O so please excuse anything that isn't right / doesn't make sense. If it's any good i'll make it into a series. Explicit!

18+, MINORS DNI.

3K

Church is a performance. 

The priest holds himself high above the stands as he delivers a sermon on this beautiful Sunday. His whiny voice rises and falls as he pretends that what he’s saying has any real authenticity behind it. He waves arms, calling up to God in the sky like a dramatic 10th grader in theatre class.

Your phone pings in your lap and you reach down quickly to silence it under your fathers sharp and disapproving glare. 

“Off!” Your mother whispers harshly. She bends at the waist to lean across your father and slaps you with the back of her hand, waving away the phone in your hand.

“Okay, okay! Sorry.” You mumble back to her, flipping your phone into silent mode.

You look down at the screen, it’s a text from Nat:

Say it, don’t spray it Father!

You hold back a breathy giggle and your eyes immediately search for her across the hall. She’s sitting with her family a few rows up and across the aisle. Her eyes watch you, waiting to catch your gaze and she winks at you playfully when you find her.

You roll your eyes dramatically at the priest still shouting from the stand and it makes her smile. 

Church is a performance because you have to sit there like you’re listening to the words spraying out of the old alpha’s mouth. Pretend that you like the heavy arm that slings around your shoulder, and your eyes aren’t constantly seeking out Natasha of their own accord in a way that feels completely out of your control. 

In fact, for the whole hour you can’t take your eyes off her. The crowd seems to separate perfectly through the seats and they give you an unimpeded view of the back of her head. She turns around occasionally and her own parents nudge her arm when they notice her attention has strayed. You wish she was the one sitting next to you. Instead you're stuck with the ‘boyfriend’ your father has decided is a suitable alpha and despite your vehement protests, you will one day be expected to mate with him.

Dylan, the huge bore, seems to actually be listening intently to the priest's speech. He sits with his legs splayed out on the bench and the hand around your shoulder rests on your hair, tugging it uncomfortably. He’s from a powerful family, a “strong” - your fathers words -  and large alpha who’s not completely stupid. Unfortunately for you, that means he knows how to take advantage of his status. 

Your phone vibrates against your thigh and you sneakily turn the screen to look at the message coming through. 

How can no-one else see that we have a literal goddess in our presence?

Another grey bubble appears:

You look beautiful

You feel your cheeks blush, she’s so sappy. Before you can type a reply, everyone starts to stand and you jump up to your feet alongside them. The group applauds the priest and Dylan enthusiastically pulls you into his side and plants a sopping wet kiss on your cheek. Inside, you gag as his tongue swipes your skin like a hot wet slug. You pretend to find it cute, smiling up at him sweetly.

As you walk out, his hand slips from your shoulder and wanders down to the small of your back. In the middle of the crowd, he drops further down to your ass and grabs a lewd palmful through your thin summer dress. You reach back to swat his hand away, feigning modesty that is really a disguised aversion to his touch.

You try to catch another glimpse of Nat as you’re led by the hand back to your fathers car. He holds a barbeque every week at the house for everyone after church. Natasha’s father is always there, he’s your fathers business partner and right-hand man, so she gets dragged along too. Something you’re perfectly fine with.

~~~

Your fathers guests, the alphas, drink and laugh cheerfully out in the sun. You watch anxiously from behind the kitchen counter as Natasha excuses herself from the group. She slips through the back door and you watch her walk though the living room causally. You count to 15 in your head before sneaking down the hall after her.

You keep your footsteps light as you toe along the creaky floorboard when a hand clasps around your wrist and drags you into an empty room to the left. A squeal starts to escape your lips but a firm hand cups over your mouth, silencing you.

“Shhhh!” A raspy voice whispers behind you. 

You turn around to Natasha beaming at you shyly. 

You slap a hand to her shoulder, “You scared me!”

“Sorry, baby.” She says, “I didn’t want anyone to see.”

You look around at the bookshelves lining the room and the huge desk that overlooks the greenery outside the window. Most of the books in here are unread, only ever opened by you during the hours your father was never home.

“Jesus Natty, you chose the worst room to sneak into.” You groan at her, “this is my father’s office.”

“Oops,” She smirks. 

She steps closer into your space and you instinctively lean in to hug her, your forehead resting down onto the top of her chest. 

She takes a soft grip at the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair and she pulls you into a burning kiss. Her lips are soft, easy to surrender to and make you moan into her mouth. Unlike Dylan, the wetness of her tongue is delicious, you steal the tip of it between your lips and erotically suck the muscle into your mouth. 

Her hips react fast, bumping into your lower stomach and she pulls you against her to increase the friction between your hips. The sucking sensation puts crude images into her mind of you on your knees for her.

She kisses you sensually, slowing down the fiery pace between you as she intertwines your hands tenderly. She pulls back slightly to look into your eyes. The intensity in her emerald gaze makes you worried, she’s looking for something in your expression. 

“Are you ok?” She whispers.

Your brows scrunch up confused, “Yeah, why?” You pull your joined hands to your lips and kiss the back of her hand affectionately.

“Dylan looked like he was getting handsy.” She says softly.

She’s an alpha, she doesn’t really understand how violated unwanted touch can make one feel but she’s always been incredibly empathetic about it, always observant and cautious, even between the two of you. 

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrug, but the way you avoid eye contact when you lie to her is telling enough. 

She hates it when you feel scared, she can smell it across the room, see it on your face and in your body language despite how good you are at hiding it from everyone else. 

“You don’t have to do that with me,” She whispers, pulling your chin up so you’re forced to look at her. 

“Do what?” 

“Pretend that you’re fine.” 

You run a gentle hand over her cheek, caressing the soft warm skin and trying to sooth the deep crease between her eyebrows that appear when something’s bothering her.

“You wanted to defend me?” You tease her lightly. 

She grumbles something incoherent back to you. She can’t help the overwhelming desire to protect you when it happens. 

You smile at her, bright and toothy, and she thinks about the sweet smile you force his way. The way he must think about you makes her furious. She feels a wild roar erupt silently in the depth of her chest and it commands that she prove herself to you. Strong hands gasp around your hips and spin you around, right away grabbing violent fistfuls of your ass. The force behind her touch sends you stumbling towards your fathers desk. 

You almost faceplant into the dark wood but you catch yourself just in time, “Nat! God, what’s gotten into you?”

“I saw him grab your ass.” She growls, “In front of everyone, in front of me.”

She nips at the sensitive skin of your neck and you mewl at her aggression. 

“Who does that mother fucker think he is? Hmm?”

She withdraws and steps back slightly to pull the bottom of your dress up over your ass, letting the material drape around your waist. The cool air heightens the feeling of exposure, you’ve never let her fuck you somewhere you could actually get caught.

She slips her hands inside your underwear, pulling the material under the curve of your ass and she roughly squeezes your cheeks in her fists, it feels like she’s marking the print of her palm into your sensitive skin. She pulls the round fleshy globes apart and grinds her pelvis into your exposed hole.

“He’s not mine.” You say quickly, your voice faint from the way your chest thrums excitedly at the sensation of her threatening presence against your asshole. 

“Right.” She huffs, “Because you’re mine.”

“Say it.” She says, pulling the band of your underwear up to let it slap back against your skin.

You whimper at the light pleasurable sting, “I’m yours, all yours.”

“Hmmhm,” She hums softly into your ear, leaning flush up against your back. She cups your cunt in her palm and the hard bulge in her pants rubs against your hip.

Oh what your mother would say, what would Dylan think about the way you let her touch you. You hardly even kiss him. No matter how hard he tries you won’t let him grope your chest, let alone your pussy.

You spin yourself around to face her and dexterous fingers reach down to unbuckle the thick belt holding her pants up. She helps you yank her pants down her legs.

You palm her delicately through her underwear before pulling her cock out from under the waistband. She's massive and the weight of it bobs heavily in the air. Your fingers struggles to wrap around its girth properly as you give her a gentle stroke up to the base where you press your palm against her lower stomach. You kiss her lips teasingly soft, taunting her. 

She growls deeply, her chest vibrating and she rips your underwear all the way down your legs. Pushing you back onto the desk, she savagely spreads your legs open and the muscles of your inner thighs complain about the sudden stretch. 

You grip the edge of the desk, trying to balance your weight as Natasha moves in closer. You watch down as the space between the two of you closes and the wide pink head of her cock presses up against your entrance. Your arousal is already dripping onto her and she rubs the tip through your folds, knocking up against your clit.

She gets desperate, rutting against your entrance and she reaches down to guide herself inside. You watch the way your walls stretch around the enormous width of her, your mouth opening in a wide ‘O’, hardly able to breathe as she starts to push herself inside. The power behind her hips fights fiercely against the resistance in your walls and she moans softly under her breath. 

You lean backwards with your hands behind your back, so you can stretch out to create more space for her to dig inside. It’s an uncomfortable position and you almost fall backwards from the force of her hips rutting with a strength that lifts your whole body up into the air.

"Ugh, Nat," You whimper as your arms start to shake and complain about holding your up under the force of her thrusts.

She tries to help by gripping your waists easily with her broad hands and she pulls your hips down onto her as she spears herself up and into you. Your breasts bounce under the weak confines of your lace bra, your whole body jerks back and forth from the domineering power of her thrusts. Your hands start to slip against the desk, threatening to tip you off over the back. You whine pitifully as Natasha easily pulls out and you let her yank you down off the table so she can spin you around. 

“Bend over,” She says in a gravely whisper, her fingers pressing your chest down onto the hard wood surface. She grips both ass cheeks and spreads them apart to thrust herself back inside you. 

With the new stability she starts absolutely pounding you into the desk. Your face squishes against the luxury dark wood and drool from your gaping mouth drips onto the surface.

She growls at the cold air and fights to push herself back inside the warmth of your walls. 

“Fuck,” She huffs, “You feel so fucking good.” 

She’s rocking into you passionately, her hips slapping against your ass. The crude sound of her cock driving into your wet channel reverberates through the room. Surely, anyone walking past would be able to hear exactly how well she keeps her rhythm of drilling herself inside her. 

Her enormous size rips your walls open and you can’t help the small breathy moans of her name that she forces from the depths of your throat as she pistols into you. 

Her heavy cockhead bangs against your cervix, brushing a pleasurable spot there that makes you see stars and your whole body trembles as a powerful orgasm creeps up on you. Your walls flutter against her and she moans at the tight squeeze against her length. Her hips slow down as she carefully rubs herself against your spasming walls and you mewl at the way she hammers against the sensitive spot inside you. As soon as your breathing starts to even out she picks up again to a brutal pace.

If your father saw Natasha like this, he’d second guess everything about how ‘soft’ she is.

She's furious, jackhammering into you and taking out her anger on your welcoming cunt. An avalanche of pent up jealousy has been simmering around her head all morning since the moment you walked into church holding his hand. The mere thought of him sitting next to you made Natasha throb painfully in her pants, her alpha screaming for her charge over and take you in front of the whole church. She’d drag you over to the front steps and bend you over the altar so everyone has a perfect view of the way she fills you. 

The thought of claiming you in front of everyone, the way you whither and moan under her makes her knot start to form and it bangs into your entrance painfully with the rough momentum she maintains. 

She’s not thinking clearly but through the haze she feels something blocking her hips from pressing up against your ass. You feel the hard bugle punching against you as she mindlessly tries to force herself deeper, only registering the fact that she’s not reaching as well inside you as before. 

“Natty, Nat, Nat, Nat, please!” You moan her name, breathy and high pitched, your words slurring together into a long plea. Your omega needs her to knot you, it craves the connection that ties you together and binds her as part of you. It mewls inside you and you squirm and shake painfully at the empty feeling.

Natasha sees red, she hears your voice begging her and all she can do is fight harder to bring you pleasure. She steps her feet in between yours, forcing your legs to open wider to accommodate her. She lifts your hips until your toes drift from the ground and it positions you perfectly for the taking. 

“Natalia,” You whimper.

She pistols into you, grunting loudly as she drives her hips forwards as hard as she can. A particularly brutal thrust tears your entrance open and you bite down hard on your fist to keep yourself from screaming as you cum. Her knot pops into you and it immediately gets stuck inside your walls that grip her tightly. The strangle hold around her knot tips her over the edge and into a pleasurable high that makes her hump into you uncontrollably, yanking your whole body back and forth against the table. She rams herself deeper and the pressure against your cervix sending you into another orgasm that curls your toes and makes you choke on the air in the middle of your throat.

When your legs stop twitching, Natasha gently lets your feet touch back down onto the ground and you take a few deep breaths as your vision comes back. Her plump lips kiss the curve of your shoulder and up along your neck. In the calm, your vision comes back and you become aware of the sweat that’s started to bead along your back, it drips down your legs and your hair clings to the dampness of your forehead.

“Shit,” She mumbles in your skin. “I didn’t mean to knot you, I’m sorry.”

She wraps you up tighter in her arms and carefully inspects your hips for bruises where she violently banged you into the hard edge of the table. Her heart thuds heavily at the purple welts starting to form around your bone and it makes her eyes start to water. She prays you weren't hurting as she made love to you.

You caress the hands that prod at your hips and start to murmur back to her how much you wanted her knot, when someone walks through the hallway and Natasha jolts upwards towards the door. You whimper at the painful way her knot tugs you up with her. 

“Fuck! I’m sorry,” She whispers, “I’m so sorry!” 

“Shhh,” You shush her with a finger to her beautiful lips.

You both wait nervously until you hear the footsteps retreat back down the hallway as the person finally leaves, probably going back to join the party and Natasha laughs quietly into your neck in relief. 

“Are you okay?” She whispers.

You laugh softly, “I’m fine, sweetheart,” You tell her, twisting to try and face her as best you can. “Very well fucked is all.”

“Sorry.” She whispers again, this time through a huge smile on her face and not at all apologetic.

You wiggle your hips against her to check if she’d shrunk enough for you to slip out. But you curse her feracity, she’s still plugging up your entrance and you flop back down onto the desk exhausted and impatient.

“This could take a while,” You mumble, “maybe we can start cleaning this mess up.” 

From your viewpoint, your fathers office is a mess. His table is covered with your sweat and everything has been knocked over - either onto the floor or scattered around the table. The draws on the other side have all been rocked open, revealing the items inside. And you don’t even want to think about the mess between your legs.

Natasha runs her fingers down your spine, tenderly massaging the tense muscles the run the length of your back. 

You relax back into her, “Maybe we can pretend someone tried to rob him?” 

She giggles at the blissful daze you’re clearly absorbed by. In a minute you'll be panicking again about the state of the room and she'll be frantically helping you cover your tracks.

[dirtyvulture]

GP!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Requested by anon: Hii Could i please request a G!P NATASHA wherein we're very horny but she's on a virtual briefing for her upcoming mission we start touching her but she keeps on saying later so we left the room but then we come back with a fake d*ck and began to play with ourselves. (Nat's wearing headphones that's why she couldn't hear our soft moans at first) but then we moaned her name louder and that got her attention and she just fucks us.

Word count: 761

18+ only, read at your own risk

AN: Sadly, I don’t have time to participate in Kinktober, but here’s something to get the month started. Enjoy! :)

Even with the pandemic, work doesn’t stop for an Avenger. Although Natasha has spent a lot more time at home with you, she still has to log onto daily meetings and go out for missions. You’re grateful for all the extra time you get to spend with her, even if it feels like she’s ignoring you sometimes.

Like now, for instance. She’s in her office, headphones on to hear the confidential information from Fury and the council, sitting ramrod straight in her chair while looking into her computer camera.

You crawl up beside her, careful to keep yourself out of frame. Natasha raises an eyebrow, but gives no other indication that she’s acknowledge your presence. You place your hand on her thigh, massaging the muscle there lightly and Natasha swats you away.

You’re surprised, since you’ve given her blowjobs and handjobs before all while she was on camera and she never gave you trouble for it in the past. Maybe it was a more serious assignment.

You shrink back, staring up at her, but she keeps her eyes glued on her computer screen. With a sigh, you crawl back out of her office, but return only a few minutes later, this time with one of your dildos in hand. Although it’s not as big as your girlfriend, it’ll have to do and you stick the bottom of the dildo to the floor so it sits upright.

You take off your pants and panties, coating your fingers in your own wetness and moaning softly. Natasha has no idea you’re back in her office, nor that you’re touching yourself right behind her.

Once you feel you’re ready to take the dildo, you hover over it and sink down, moaning louder as it stretches you open. Your walls clench around the dildo and you angle your hips back so it strokes your front wall.

“Oh fuck,” you mumble, relaxing to accommodate the entire length but wishing it was your girlfriend’s dick instead. You call her name to get her attention; her final chance to help get you off. “Natasha. NATASHA.”

She finally hears you and slips one of the headphones off her ear, turning her whole body when she hears you moan. When she sees you bouncing on the fake dick, she feels the sudden tightness in her pants and is overwhelmed by the need to breed you.

Natasha logs off the meeting instantly, slamming her laptop shut and practically running over to you. She grabs you under the arms and lifts you straight off the dildo, carrying you to pin you against the wall.

“You couldn’t wait another five minutes?” Natasha hisses, pulling down the front of her sweatpants and her cock bobs out, hard and heavy already. She turns you around so your face is pressed against the wall, and you smile in anticipation.

“I always need you,” you pant, biting on your lip when she slaps her cock against your butt teasingly. “Please, Nat. Nothing can fill me the way you do.”

“Is that right?”

Natasha suddenly pushes into you and your back arches at the fullness.

“God, Nat, you’re so big,” you pant, biting into your knuckles as you feel her reach areas the dildo couldn’t. You pulse around her cock and she buries her face in your hair, growling in your ear.

Her hands tighten around your waist, her hips rolling up and down. You bump into the wall with each of her deep strokes, moaning in delight as you feel her throb inside of you.

“Keep going, baby,” you encourage, clenching around her cock harder.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Natasha moans, watching as her glistening cock disappears into you and she pulls out until she can see her red tip again. “You’re gonna take my cum like a good girl?” she whispers, her breaths quickening as she reaches her release.

“Please fill me up, Nat. I want to have your babies,” you beg.

You feel her thighs flex and she pushes her cock into you all the way, a rush of cum spilling out to paint your walls. It’s more than you can handle and some of it runs down the inside of your thighs, and the pressure on your insides causes you to cum too.

Natasha wraps her arms around you to hold you as your legs can no longer support you, and she carries you to lie on the couch, letting you rest on her chest.

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper, full and sleepy.

“You’re welcome,” Natasha says as she kisses the crown of your head.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content.

[hockeyshmockey]

Carlos Sainz- Regrets

summary: after meddling to get his sister and former team mate together, Lando may have regrets (4+1)

warnings: none, just grumpy lando

wc: 1.6k

1

It was two weeks after Imola, and Lando found himself banging on Carlos’ hotel door in Spain. The two had plans to grab lunch, and after waiting in the lobby for ten minutes, Lando had decided to go make sure the Spainard was awake. 

As soon as the door opened, Lando pushed inside. “Mate, c’mon. I’m hungry!”

Lando failed to notice Carlos’ rumpled state, and made his way to plop on the couch in the room. 

“Lando-”

“Nope, no excuses, lets go,” Lando crosses his arms and glared at Carlos until he made his way to his suitcase with a sigh. The younger brunette looked around the room in boredom, his attention quickly caught by the white heeled boots in the corner.  

“Carlos,” Lando glared at the shoes. “Did you have a lady friend over?” Lando had been disappointed to hear no great stories from his matchmaking attempt in Imola. Both Natalia and Carlos had just mentioned the dinner, and that it was nice, but nothing else. So knowing his sister liked Carlos, Lando was feeling a bit offended on her behalf that Carlos was with other women. 

“Lando,” Carlos came out of his room with shorts and a polo on. “It is not what it looks like.”

“What do you mean?” Lando stood up and looked around. “You have a girl, that’s great. Have you told-”

Lando cut himself off when he caught sight of a white bedazzled jean jacket hanging on a chair. It was customized with McLaren colors, and Lando’s own number. He knew it vividly, considering he had bought it for his older sister for Christmas. 

“Oh my god!” Lando squealed. “It’s Natalia?”

Carlos looked at the younger man nervously as he shook his head. “It is.”

“So she’s here this weekend?” Lando asked incredulously. “We live together, how did she keep that from me?”

2

“Nat?” Lando yelled out as he let himself into her house with the key she had given him when he had lived with her during quarantine. He made his way into the kitchen, stopping short when he saw the figure at the dining table with his sister, both on laptops.

“Hello muppet!” Carlos grinned brightly from the table, Natalia looking up as well.  

“Hey Lan, what’s up,” she stood up, walking over to hug him lightly before heading to the kitchen island. “Want a sandwich? We made some for lunch.”

“What is he doing here?” Lando narrowed his eyes at Carlos, who just kept smiling. 

“What do you mean?” Natalia asked as she brought out a plate to put the extra sandwich on. “Here, do you want something to drink too?”

Lando sat at the island, turning over his shoulder when he heard Carlos’ laughing. “Why are you laughing?”

“It just makes me laugh,” Carlos stood up and brought his plate over to put in the dishwasher. “She turns into a big sister as soon as you get here.”

“Oi!” Natalia swatted at the Spainard with her dish towel, scowling as he laughed and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Don’t pout,” Carlos placed a kiss to her forehead, the couple ignoring Lando’s scoff from where he was munching on his sandwich.

3. 

“Alright, that’s P5 Lando, P5. Nice drive mate,” Willam called down the radio to the younger man. “We have Leclerc P1, Verstappen P2, Sainz P3 and Russel P4.”

“Nice mate,” Lando grinned, running his car through the cool down lap. “Good job everyone.”

By the time Lando got out of his car, he could hear the anthem playing for Charles, and the Ferrari team screaming along. As the car pulled to a stop, Lando took out the wheel and heaved himself out of the car, giving the mechanics some back slaps before making his way over his press officer, Melania. 

“Ok, let’s get some interviews in before they come in off the podium,” the young woman grinned, leading him to the media pen. Lando made his way through a few typical interviews before he made his way to the Sky Sports team. 

“Lando,” Natalie grinned at him behind the camera. “How are you feeling after that drive?” Lando spent a few moments talking about the way the car drove that day, how he was hoping to improve, and more. 

“Now, getting away from the car,” Natalie’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “We noticed you were joined by your family this weekend. How was that?”

Lando tried not quirk a brown in surprise but answered her. “Yes, my mum and sister joined this weekend. It’s always great to have them here with me, fuels me a little.”

“Of course,” she nodded. “We did see your sister over at Parc Ferme a little bit ago. Let’s look at a quick video.” Lando looked at the phone in the woman’s hand which was showing the two Ferraris and their drivers exiting the cars. 

Charles and Carlos headed for the line of Ferrari workers, accepting hugs. Lando tried to keep a straight face when he recognized the beaming face looking out in a sea of red, Carlos making his way to his sister. 

Natalia reached out to the Spainard, smacking his helmet softly as Carlos reached up to remove his helmet and baclava. When he did, the video zoomed in as Carlos reached over to cup her cheek and swooped down to kiss her. 

Lando looked back to Natalie, trying to keep a straight face. “So,” Natalie smirked. “Carlos seems to have a new partner.”

“Seems so,” Lando’s eyes darted around before he began to laugh. Melanie cut in quickly, ending his time with Skysports. 

“That was one way for them to go public,” Lando giggled as he walked to the garage, beaming as he came across Carlos. “Good drive mate,” he gave the man a hug. “Could’ve warned me about smacking one on my sister.”

4

“I can’t believe Oliver has gotten married,” Lando muttered to Luisa as the couple watched Oliver and Savannah talking with their family outside of the church. 

The two were joined quickly by Natalia and Carlos. “You feeling like it’s your turn next,” Lando joked with the older couple, wrapping his arm around Luisa. 

“It will be,” Carlos looked down at Natalia with a soft smile, the girl blushing as she giggled. 

“We’ll see,” Natalia commented, quickly turning her attention to their mother who joined the four of them. 

Soon after, the wedding was at the reception stage. The Norris’ family and friends had spent time eating, drinking and dancing, and the night was finally beginning to wind down. Lando took his own seat, sipping on his last drink as he watched the last few groups on the dance floor dissolve as a slow song came on.

He smiled when he saw Savannah and Oliver stay out, his brother and his sister in law completely wrapped up as the swayed to the Etta James song playing. His parents were out there too. He was glad Luisa’s feet were killing her or he knew he would be there too. 

In the corner of the dance floor, his eyes softened at the sight of his sister and his friend in their own world. “They’re really good together,” he murmured to Luisa, the brunette snuggling into his side. 

“He’s a good man. He will take care of her,” his girlfriend commented. The couple continued to watch the older pair, in both of their minds thinking of the perfect match they had come to be. 

+ 1

“Is this thing on?” Lando tapped on the mic, the group laughing as he grinned, taking a sip of his drink. “I wanted to say thank you guys all for being here. I think a few years ago, it was a bit of a dream that I would be standing here. But deep down, I knew it would happen.”

Natalia leaned her chin against her hand, watching her little brother with a soft smile. A hand snaked around her waist, pulling her body closer to his. 

Lando turned to Natalia and Carlos, the three sharing smiles. “A few years ago, I came to the startling conclusion that Carlos and Nat had feelings for each other. And after some elaborate planning, I was able to get them on a date, and the rest is history.”

“Was it really elaborate?” Carlos whispered in Natalia’s ear, the two giggling as Lando faux glared. 

“Carlos, you and I became best mates basically the minute we met,” Lando grinned. “We spent years as team mates, and then we spent years as competitors. But at the end of the day, I always knew you had my back, and I always knew you would treat Natalia the way she deserved.”

Natalia awed as both Carlos and Lando’s eyes turned glassy. “Nat, even when I didn’t want it, you always looked out for me. Mom was running after 5 kids, and you were always there to lead our little group. Growing up I thought you were overbearing,” here the crowd laughed as Lando shrugged. 

“She knows, we used to fight about it,” he grinned at a laughing Natalia. “But Nat, you were truly my best friend. You were the first person I went to when I messed up, or when I had a bad idea, or did something exciting. And nothing could make me happier to be standing here today.”

Lando smiled softly at this sight in front of him. His sister in a beautiful white silk dress, leaning into Carlos’ side, the man himself in a sleek black tux. “The moment you two went out for the first time, I could have called we would be sitting here today.” 

Carlos and Natalia laughed as Lando raised his glass. “So here’s to my sister, and my now official brother. To many years of love, and happiness, and plenty of more racing.”

[whumblr]

Meet the medic

Custody masterpost - Previous chapter

-

“I hate you,” Jeff seethed, “I hate the lot of you.” He stumbled along with Kyle, who not only kept him upright but practically dragged him along the hallway.

He held him tight and even though – mercifully – it was his good arm, with his hands still tied behind his back every step and movement jostled and pulled at the bullet wound in his other shoulder.

Pain seared through his shoulder, spreading and tingling down his arm along muscles and veins, and outside his veins with the blood tickling down, seeping in his shirt and sticking to his skin. His fingers were numb, cold, the blooddrops dripping over them hot in contrast. He caught the drop in a clenched fist, then shakily stretched his fingers out again.

Kyle, in his usual silent manner, guided him to a room and held the door open.

Shuffling in rather hesitantly with his guard still up, Jeff looked around. He tensed up when a large metal table in the middle of the room demanded his attention, but released his suspicion in a sigh when he saw the tools and realized – or more desperately hoped – this was a safe room; the doctor’s room.

In the corner, tucked away at a long work desk along the wall that was filled with papers, a man sat hunched over his work; forehead resting in his hand as he was writing something. He glanced up as he heard them enter.

His brow furrowed deeper in annoyance, disturbed in his work, but when he realized who and what had entered, he jumped up and shot to action.

“Over there.” He pointed Kyle to the operating table. “Uncuff him, for fuck’s sake.”

As soon as he felt the cold pressure of the cuffs fall away, Jeff tried to push Kyle away from him, meaning to fight his way out. Rush back to Nat.

But in his weakened state, all Kyle had to do was close in on him and Jeff buckled as soon as the back of his thighs touched the table.

Two pair of hands roamed over his good shoulder and his chest, pressuring him to lie down. He no longer had any strength to resist, even against the doctor’s gentle yet firm touches. Still, he snarled his protest as soon as he felt his back press against the table.

But it wasn’t as firm as he’d thought. “No…” he brought out in barely a breath. His voice was as weak as he felt. “No, don’t… don’t touch me, don—” He hissed as he felt Kyle put pressure on his numb arm and his voice strengthened in alarm. “Don’t touch me! Leave me alone!”

He swatted his good arm at them, but Kyle easily caught it.

Before he could even attempt anything further, a hand clamped over his forehead, snared a grip in his hair and forced him down until the back of his head hit the table.

The doctor stood over him, keeping him down with a tight grip on his hair. “Don’t you snap at me, kid. I’m trying to help you here.”

Jeff winced. The sudden hit didn’t do much besides completely surprise him. Throbbing light pain nagged in the back of his head, but compared to the pain in his arm, it was nothing more than a pinch in warning. Which was as the doctor intended. And too tired to put up a fight again, Jeff let himself be handled further onto the table. He watched the man fuss around him, preparing various instruments, and looked into his face.

“I know you,” Jeff mumbled and he must’ve imagined it, but for a second he thought the man froze. “You were in his office. His goddamn o—” Exhaustion overtook him and he groaned, turning his head away not seeing how the man untensed.

“Yes, I remember you,” he merely said, gruff but not unkind.

“Who—” Jeff started but the man turned away from him, busying himself and pointing out instructions to Kyle.

“Don’t touch it,” he said as he noticed Jeff’s hand hover anxiously over the bullet wound. “Keep your arm still, don’t move. Blood type?”

“A… positive…” Jeff breathed out after a bewildered pause, and he saw the man gesture to Kyle.

When Eric had said to bring him to the doctor, he hadn’t really been sure what to expect. Not in this place. Not from people working with Eric. And it certainly wasn’t actual medical assistance.

“Shaun.” The man looked up when Kyle demanded his attention and he nodded in approval at whatever he was holding.

Jeff let it all wash over him in a haze. He realized that this was probably the first time he’d heard Kyle speak. Usually he was a silent presence, more felt than heard. And the doctor’s name was Shaun… yes, he vaguely recalled Eric calling him that, too.

“I… thought… you were the boss… around here.”

Shaun let out a humorless laugh. “I should wish.” He shook his head. “Most people say funny things after their anesthetic.”

“I don’t… want… anes—”

“Yes,” Shaun said over him. “You do.”

“I have to get back…” He was so tired, he could barely finished a sentence without gasping for breath in-between words.  “Back to Nat… as soon as—”

“You think you’re any good to them in this state? Do you want Eric to take full advantage of you? Want to bleed out and leave your partner to fend for themself?” he demanded, and Jeff whimpered at the thought, shaking his head. “Then let me do my job.”

The thought of leaving Nat alone with that bastard while he was out wasn’t a welcome one. He wanted to be with Nat; protect them, and if he couldn’t to just be there for them, knowing that his presence – and Nat’s for him – calmed them both. Even though he fully knew that Eric would use them against each other.

And true, in this state, it would only make him an easier target.

But maybe that was what he wanted. Because if he could draw Eric away from Nat, all the better.

Still, he let the doctor prep him so he could remove that blasted bullet.

“Why are you… helping me?”

“Gunshot wounds are always dangerous. The shoulder especially. Which Eric should know, considering…” Shaun grunted something under his breath.

Considering he’d been on the receiving end when Nat had shot the man, Jeff ventured he knew exactly how dangerous it was.

“But… why?”

Shaun didn’t answer. He swiped a piece of cotton over the crook of Jeff’s elbow, then carefully inserted an IV.

“You’re a… doctor…” Jeff tried again. “How can…”

“Be my guest and talk ethics with me,” Shaun said without looking up from the IV, attaching a syringe and he slowly pushed the plunger. “It’s better than counting back from ten.”

And sure enough, before he could even string another two words together, he was out like a light.

-

Next thing he knew he woke, back resting against a soft mattress, body covered in warm sheets. He stirred cautiously, not knowing what would await him when he opened his eyes. But when he tried to move his arm, there wasn’t much pain, and when he peeked an eye open, a familiar figure sat next to him. Merely a black blur in his state, but still easy to recognize; long black hair, a little more tangled than usual, spilled over their black clad shoulders.

“Hey,” Nat whispered, their face lighting up in relief.

A squeeze in his hand followed.

“Hey…” Jeff croaked in return, testing his voice. He blinked hard, squeezing his eyes a tad longer than necessary. A groggy feeling lingered, unswayed by his attempts to get a bearing on the world, And so he allowed it, relaxing back against the pillow.

His fingers carefully crossed over his chest until they touched over fresh bandages. The blatant irony of it all didn’t escape him, even with his level of brain fog. It was all patched up nice and well, but he made no illusions that it would get the rest it needed to heal.

He exhaled softly and opened his eyes again, focusing on Nat. The black blur took shape, filling in the details of his friend. He peeked up at their face, worried about what he’d see there. But there was not a trace of anger to be found. Just concern and a hint of guilt. And…

He winced when he noticed the darkened color and dried blood in the corner of their lips.

“It’s okay…” Nat said quickly, but they turned their head away. “It’s just… this. He just hit me once.”

That’s once too many.

"I should have said sorry..." he mumbled.

"You think?" No judging, just a small tilt of their lips.

But he was judging himself. All that energy. Wasted on recovering. Lying still in bed, trying not to move too much, while he could’ve spent it on protecting Nat, fighting their way out, looking for a way out, provoking Eric, or best yet, just wind it all up and punch him full in the face. It was a grave injury that would hold him back and prevented him from doing just all that…

He realized Nat didn’t just do as Eric said out of fear; there was a practicality to it that he, in his anger, had completely blindsided.

“I’m not as strong as you are,” he muttered, turning his head away.

“…what? I’m not—this is not—”

“Yes, it is. You are able to swallow your rage, your humiliation, your anger. Not just for yourself but to protect me as well. I can’t do that.”

“You did when he threatened me.”

“Yeah, but I can’t seem to do it for myself. He just gets under my skin. And I’m not going to bloody say sorry when I don’t mean it.”

“What, you think I meant it?”

“Nat…”

Nat sprang up at the voice. Eric stood in the doorway, a hand over his heart in feigned hurt, but a malicious yet gleeful look on his face.

“Did you just admit, did you confess that everything you just told me… was a lie?”

Nat stuttered out a breath and backed away, tripping over Jeff’s IV pole that rattled and nearly fell over as they bumped into it. Their hand, still around Jeff’s, clamped into a claw and Jeff winced as his numb fingers were crushed.

“I… no, I…” they stuttered, freezing up like a deer in headlights.

“You know what the punishment for lying is,” Eric tutted and took a step forward.

But before he could even get close to the pair, Shaun followed him into the room and gruffly yanked him back in passing.

“Eric, get the fuck out. This is a room for recovery, not whatever bullshit you have in mind.”

Eric acquiesced, taking a step back, but his eyes were slits and pinned Nat to the spot as he glared over Shaun’s shoulder. “Very well,” he said, just before he left the room, “I’ll wait.”

And his eyes shot to Jeff instead.

“I need him there to watch after all.”

-

Continued here.

Tagging: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @hurtmebeautifully @im-just-here-for-the-whump @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @queenofthenoobs @gala1981 @scribbelle

Lemme know if you want on/off.

[hopeintheashes]

been trying to swim with both my hands behind my back

The Bear. Sydney and Carmy. Immediately post-2x10. for the @badthingshappenbingo square "Caught in a Storm"

"Oh," he says, voice distant. "It's really fucking raining." "Yeah," she says, instead of I told you so. Wraps her arms around herself. The wet bandana is still in her hand. She's going to have to do something with it. She can't for the life of her imagine what. It feels like she's thrown up all of her resolve. Like gravity has given up. Like she's untethered from the floor. He turns around suddenly. "You can go, you know. You don't have to—" He's a mirror of her, arms wrapped around himself— "Stay," he finishes like it wasn't what he wanted to say. She can see the headache in the pull of the muscles of his face. "Well," she says, and it's quieter than she'd meant. "It's raining. So." He looks up from under his hair where it's falling in his eyes; looks impossibly young; looks like all of the sinews of his entire self have been wound tight like over-tuned piano wires and at least a third of them have already given way.

Read it below or on AO3.

The rain comes all at once. Without warning, if you haven't checked your phone in the last three and a half hours.

She decides her stomach is going to have to be able to handle going inside.

Tina hands her water on her way in the door and pats her shoulder sympathetically, then goes back to making sure the last touches of the kitchen cleanup are done. Gary's shaking hands with a guy with some sort of… chainsaw? and showing him out the door. Marcus and Richie are nowhere to be seen.

Natalie appears around the corner, and she's smiling but her eyes and her mouth are complicated, a little bit sad. She wraps Sydney up in an unexpected hug and then pulls back like she's afraid she might have gone too far, and Syd smiles at her reassuringly.

"We fucking did it," Nat says. Sydney nods, holding her gaze and then breaking it to look at the destroyed walk-in door.

"Carmy's out?" she says, even though obviously Carmy is out, because it's easier than any of the other questions she could ask about that.

Natalie presses her lips together, worrying them between her teeth. "He is." Eyes flicking toward the office.

"Okay." She can see Pete through the window into the dining room, waiting for Nat. Infinite patience, that guy. Baffling, but in a sweet way. Sydney looks at the office door, then back at Nat. "I've got him. You go."

So uncertain, so young: "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Yes." She can still taste the stomach acid on her tongue. "Go. I'd say try to beat the rain, but I guess it's already here."

Nat blinks at the front window like she hadn't realized. "Oh. Yeah. Okay."

Pete holds up two umbrellas through the window in the door, smiling like he would be happy to wait there all night.

"Go," she says insistently, and Natalie pulls her in to kiss her on the cheek, and then she's back through the door and Pete's got his arm around her and is trying to put up one of the umbrellas before they're even out the door. Nat swats it down and she's laughing, head tipped against his, arm in arm on their way out into the rain.

The kitchen is clean. She should've helped. Guilt twists in her gut, and she breathes through it, because she does not want to end up back out in the alley again.

Tina appears beside her again and Sydney starts. "I'm going to go," Tina says, and Syd nods on autopilot. Somehow everyone else has disappeared. "They're predicting floods and shit. Make sure you get out of here safe, okay?"

"Okay."

"You did good, Chef," Tina says, peering up at her until Sydney meets her gaze.

Sydney makes herself nod again. "You too, Chef. Good night." 

-- -- --

She hesitates in front of the office, and then goes inside.  

Carmy's pacing. One hand in his hair, the other holding an unlit cigarette. Putting it to his lips like he's gonna risk burning the whole place down. Pulling it away again.

"You're out," she says.

"I'm out." Doesn't look at her. His ears and his eyes and his nose are rimmed in red. "What the fuck happened out there?"

"We made it work." She's going for confident, but the panic is back, the acid in her throat and the shake in her hands and the goddamn fucking ticket machine printing again and again—

"Syd." He touches her arms between her wrists and her whites and it's the ice of his skin that pulls her back, grounds her, eyes locked with his, and she swallows hard and breathes in through her nose and out through her mouth.

"Yeah," she says, "No, it's okay, I just, I was just—" she gestures with a grimace— "throwing up everything I've eaten in the last three years and I thought for a second it was gonna happen again, which doesn't seem like it should be possible and yet here we fucking are, but. Yeah. I'm good now. So." She breaks off and he's still got his hands on her, his eyes on her, and she swallows hard and bites the inside of her lip to keep from rambling any more.

"Syd." Impossibly serious. "You have my full attention. This has my full attention."

She blinks at him. They're the right words, and yet something feels wrong. "Okay?"

He doesn't say anything else, just looks toward the doorway like he's not sure whether it's safe to leave the room.

"Everyone else is gone," she says, stepping back from his touch and running a hand over her hair. It catches her bandana, wet from the alley. She pulls it off. Shakes out her braids. "It's raining."

He looks at her like that explains nothing, but pulls a hand down his face. The cigarette is still between his fingers. Waiting in this uncertain in-between.

"Okay," he says. She's still a little dizzy from nausea, but he looks a little dizzy like he hasn't been breathing right: shallow, barely getting any new oxygen in his lungs. It's the carbon dioxide, says some far-off voice in her head that for some reason sounds like Richie. When you hyperventilate during a panic attack. Not enough carbon dioxide. Counterintuitive but true.

She steps away from the door and he goes out like a man in a dream into the empty kitchen. The empty dining room.

"Oh," he says, voice distant even though she'd followed him there. "It's really fucking raining."

"Yeah," she says, instead of I told you so. Wraps her arms around herself. The wet bandana is still in her hand. She's going to have to do something with it. She can't for the life of her imagine what. It feels like she's thrown up all of her resolve. Like gravity has given up. Like she's untethered from the floor.

He turns around suddenly. "You can go, you know. You don't have to—" He's a mirror of her, arms wrapped around himself— "Stay," he finishes like it wasn't what he wanted to say. She can see the headache in the pull of the muscles of his face.

"Well," she says, and it's quieter than she'd meant. "It's raining. So."

He looks up from under his hair where it's falling in his eyes; looks impossibly young; looks like all of the sinews of his entire self have been wound tight like over-tuned piano wires and at least a third of them have already given way. 

-- -- --

She changes into the spare clothes in her locker; puts the gift from Carmy (fuck, Carm, what a gift) away carefully and doesn't close the door, just drapes her bandana over the top of it to dry. Goes back out to the darkened front of house to watch the downpour.

Carmy's back, cigarette smoke and the smell of rain on pavement clinging to his clothes. "My shoes got wet," he says, and Sydney looks down and he's in his socks; shoes left at the door between the kitchen and the front. The sidewalk is a river in front of their door. Lightning flashes in the distance and they wait, breathless, for the thunder, and exhale when it finally comes.

She steps out of her own shoes. Feels the floor through her socks. Clean enough to eat off, right? That's the deal.

The rain gets louder. The lights flicker, but stay on.

The walk-in is fucked. More fucked if the power goes out.

Carmy steps up to the window with her. Shoulder to shoulder. She can hear him breathe.

Another flash of lightning, and the eerie blue light of a transformer in the distance blowing to hell.

"Fuck," she says, at the same time as Carmy pulls in a ragged breath and the same time as the thunder hits.

They're in the dark.

Carmy's hand brushes hers, his knuckles against the back of her hand, just this quick reassurance that he's still here. Still freezing. Still here.

She's mentally going through all the food they've got stored but there's nothing they can do. Only good thing is that there wasn't that much left after service. If the power's still out when their next shipment is due, that's when they'll really need a plan.

"Fuck!" He's clearly just finished the same calculation.

She doesn't tell him it's okay.

He jackknifes at the waist, both hands in his hair, breathing still ragged and getting worse; comes back up dizzyingly fast; turns to pace and runs right the fuck into a table and a chair, the corner of the table sharp into his hip and the chair leg unforgiving against his unprotected toes.

She holds her breath against the oncoming scream-shove-crash of furniture to floor, but there's just a bitten-back moan. He curls in on himself away from the table and sinks to the floor, backlit from the kitchen by the dim emergency lights. He sucks in a breath and drinks in the pain like it's medicine, bitter on his tongue but nonetheless what he needs. What he thinks he deserves.  

Same table.

The one from before.

She lays a hand on the wood, stepping carefully through the darkness between it and him. Sinks down beside him as he lays onto his back: knees in the air, hands clasped over his eyes, elbows out. She sits down cross-legged and leans back on one hand, studying him in the little bit of light.

"I fucked up," he says, and she just nods, even though he can't see her through his hands. "I fucked up," he says again, like she's supposed to say something, here, and she just sighs and slips down next to him on the floor, sliding forward toward the kitchen until they're mirrored like puzzle pieces. Rotational symmetry. That's the word.

"I mean, yeah, calling the fridge guy would have been a good idea." There's so much more she could say. She bites her tongue.

"No." He's digging the sides of his clasped hands into his eyes. "Before that. And after that. Just like— everything." He takes a breath, and lifts his hands so he can open his eyes, and rolls his head sideways to look at her. "I wasn't there, and I should have been, and I'm sorry." He looks back up at the ceiling and drops his hands back onto his eyes. "It won't be a problem again."

She wants to give him shit about it but there's something in his voice those last few words. "No?"

"No. Claire and I are done."

"Oh."

"You don't have to pretend you're not happy about that."

"I want you to be happy, Carm." Spoken to the ceiling. Barely audible over the driving rain.

A sound of disgust, but not directed at her. "I don't think happiness is compatible with what we're working toward, here."

"Yeah." She flips her gaze over to him. Still covering his eyes. "Hey." He doesn't look at her, so she taps his elbow. Once he's looking at her: "But what if it was?"

He just shakes his head and puts his hands over his eyes again.

Silence, for a while. The place feels weirdly empty without the background hum of machines. The only sound the cars sluicing by on the street. Honking at each other at the intersections where the traffic lights have gone out.

"I couldn't do it," she says into the darkness. Feels him shift beside her. Moving his hands behind his head. Looking over at her sideways. "Richie had to expo. I just…." She shakes her head. "Froze." Another breath. "Drowned."

"I'm sorry," Carmy whispers. All those promises. I'll be there. You won't be alone. I won't let you fail.

"He was fucking good at it, too. Which should make me feel better, but…"

But somehow it's just salt in the wound.

"Not sure if Richie's gonna be talking to me anytime soon." He picks his head up and scrubs his fingers through his hair. Pulls his palms down his face.

She waits. Just more silence. "Say more?"

"We both said some shit through that door that there's no taking back." Tucks his hands into his armpits like he's trying to stay warm.

"You're family. He'll come around."

"You say family like it means something other than pure fucking chaos. Than the people who know exactly where to where to slide the knife to cut you wide fucking open and leave you bleeding out on the floor."

She rolls onto her side, one arm tucked under her head. He's trembling, just a little, in the low, low light. "Nat's not going to cut you open."

"No, but no matter how hard she tries, she can't sew me back up."  

She puts her free hand on his shoulder, tentatively at first and then with some weight when he reaches up across his body, other hand still tucked in against himself, and catches her fingers with his own. Still far too cold.

She wills warmth through the touch, and takes a breath. Lets it out. "I think maybe this is something we either do broken or we don't do at all."

He blinks fast through threatening tears. Bites his lip. Another car swishes by through the rain.

He squeezes her hand. Sirens in the distance. Out on the bridge.  

She squeezes back. The tracks are flooding, all the trains called off. Who knows what the city will look like at morning light. Maybe better, maybe worse.

She watches shadows on the ceiling of this place, this island in the storm, and breathes, and listens to him breathe beside her.

They don't let go.

[observeowl]

Cake N.R

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha found a new hobby during COVID-19. But, she still has lots of room for improvement and R couldn't bear to break her heart

Your POV During COVID, your girlfriend has been trying to be better in the kitchen. She has gotten slightly used to cooking but baking was another story. 

You see, at least it was possible to salvage what she had cooked with a bit of salt and seasoning, but when it came to baking, it was a lot harder. It was a done deal, you wouldn’t know how it tasted until you were done baking. 

Unfortunately for me, Nat got into baking recently. She was baking a lot more than cooking. And it was so hard for me to tell her that it didn’t taste quite right. I mean… how was I supposed to lie to her? She would find out eventually by taking a bite. 

It has been a few weeks of attempting to bake and it has been a few weeks of me trying her cake. Sometimes it was so bad that it was hard to swallow but sometimes it was edible but not pleasant. 

I had just come back from a mission. Even though it was COVID, the mission did not stop. It just meant that there were slightly fewer missions since most people are at home and the bad guys have a lower chance of striking. 

Everyone was crowding around Natasha as she brought out the cake from the oven. Those unsuspecting people reached out to steal a bite but she swatted their hand away as she was not done with it yet. 

“What’s going on around here babe?” I let my presence be known to the group of people.

“Babe!!” Nat dropped her gloves and came to hug me. “You are not hurt anywhere are you?” She said after giving me a kiss.

“Nope. I didn’t really do much to be honest.” I held her close to my waist. “Let me change and I’ll come back down yeah?” Nat nodded and gave another kiss before letting me go.

Within minutes, I went down in comfortable clothes just in time to witness Natasha decorating the cake. She just finished putting the icing on the cake and turned to face me. Everyone was eying the cake but they knew not to touch since Natasha would most probably chop their hands off. 

Being the cheeky me, I peeled off the side of the cake to have a taste. And it was also to protect them. 

“Mhmmm.” I nodded my head. “Not bad… Nat.” I slowly pulled the plate closer to me and bolted off with it. I winked at Nat and the rest before running off to my office to finish the paperwork for the mission and snack on Nat’s cake at the same time. 

As I thought, Nat’s cake wasn’t all that good. Had I let the team take the first bite, I wouldn’t know what kind of reaction they would portray since they probably had high expectations from her, not knowing her past failures. Natasha has finally found a hobby instead of constantly working and I wouldn’t want her to revert back to her old action just because of some unintentional comment from her teammates.

At least this wasn’t the worst cake. 

Well, I was hungry coming back from a mission so that probably had a part to play. Most food tastes nice when you are hungry. I was almost halfway done with the cake when Natasha came in. 

“Hi Nat.” I pulled her down on my lap before she could do anything. 

“Are you almost done with your report?” Nat picked up the paper and scanned what I had written. 

“Almost. Why don’t you write it for me while I eat your cake?” I was determined to finish her cake this time. 

“Sure.” Nat got up and sat on another chair so I could eat in peace. She clicked the pen and waited for me to dictate what to write. 

I left my seat for a moment to get water because the cake was sooo dry. I don’t even know how I got through half of it without drinking. When I returned, I offered Nat a sip which she accepted. 

All I’m hoping for is that I don’t get an upset stomach tomorrow so I don’t have to explain why. 

“Do you want to look through before I help you send it off to Nick?” Natasha asked as she finished writing the last part. 

“I’ll read, but just to see your beautiful handwriting.” 

>time skip<

The next morning I woke up in Nat’s arms and waited for a while. Okay, no stomach churning, I should be alright. Nat always loves to cocoon me so I could never slip off without her knowing. 

“I love you.” Nat spoke from behind my back. I turned over and gave her a kiss. 

“Love you too.” I scrunch my nose. “I love it, but why did you change your morning sentence? You normally say ‘morning, love’. Now I am going to think about it all day.” 

“I know what you did yesterday.” 

 “Oh…” I widened my eyes. “The cake was honestly not bad. I managed to finish it.”

“Well I definitely didn’t think it was as nice as you thought it was.” 

“I didn’t want to discourage you… You finally found something you like to do. I didn’t know how the team was going to react if I didn’t take it away first.”

“That’s why I love you. I love you to the moon and back.”

“Don’t worry Nat, you’re getting better. You’re improving each time you bake. And I’ll eat it each time you’re done baking.” 

[tobiasdrake]

Oh, wow. That's painful. In the middle of a SWAT team moving into place to arrest her for violating the Sokovia Accords, Nat makes a phone call to Secretary Ross. During their back-and-forth, she states that he should be more worried about his wellbeing than hers, and alludes to him being in potentially life-threatening poor health, medically.

The reason she brings up his second bypass surgery is to goad him with her super-spy knowledge. This is a man actively moving officers into position to try and arrest her, emphasis try, and she's basically trolling him.

But. Um.

This film was William Hurt's final MCU appearance before passing away in 2022.

So. Ouch.

[winterspiderpurrs]

Peter standing at the stove cooking some ramen noodles on his little flat top grill since his microwave broke. Liho and Alpine both balanced on his each of his shoulders. Them reaching up over his hair swatting their paws at each other once the other realized they liked the bouncy curl of Peter's hair.

He was watching both kitties while Natasha and Bucky were out on a mission. Normally he would watch them at their apartment but they said something that they were moving cause they needed a bigger place so their stuff was in storage. They have been staying at the compound or at Stark Tower but Tony didn't really want the cats there.

The window creaked and by the time he turned the stove top off and turned around Bucky and Natasha are standing inside of his apartment.

" You know... entering in through windows is kinda my thing..."

The cats jumps off Peter's shoulders and move to their respective owner purring. Peter smiles as he watches Natasha and Bucky lift up the kitties and cuddle and pet them. " we miss ya"

Bucky and Natasha look at each other before turning to look at Peter and offer him a smile. " We missed ya too Doll. Hope the kids were good for ya"

Peter laughs " Only one fight so I say it was a success!"

Natasha glances around the apartment if you can even call it that. It was a small studio. " The new place is ready to move in... it's on the edge of Queens... it's a nice brownstone... three bedrooms... we wouldn't mind having you there Pete..."

" Yeah Doll... we have our room, then an office and we can make the 3rd half lab half armory."

Peter blushes and shifts a little " Oh! But umm .... if it's only 3 bedrooms and the other two are ..office labs space.... then.. where would I go?"

" Our room."

" If you'll have us... Nat snores"

" I do not! You steal blankets"

Peter smiles, " That....yeah... that sounds great"

[desert-fern]

Pairing: Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace X Fem!Reader

Summary: SWAT Officer Natasha Trace has a problem. Her new neighbour. One could even say she has a crush, but that can’t be true, could it? When you introduce yourself after a hard day AND you bring muffins, how could Natasha not constantly have you on her mind?

Warnings: mention of guns in the beginning, physical fight, bruising, Natasha is very gay (so is the reader tbh), cuddles, kissing

Word Count: 7.6k (because when it comes to Nat, nothing is brief)

A/N: Hello all. It’s only fitting that the first thing I post after a long hiatus is a Phoenix oneshot, since my first work on here was also a oneshot for her. I wrote this with encouragement from @/sylviebell, and it is dedicated to her in part. Enjoy!

===

“Nix, rabbit coming your way!”

Natasha vaulted over the deck railing, landing in crouch as she cut off the path of the suspect racing towards her, Jake hot on his tail, but still a ways behind. The man’s eyes widened as he went to duck by her, his whole body primed to jump out of the way if she made a move to catch him. She knew she didn’t look like a threat to this man, who seemed to be wider than he was tall, 6 feet of pure shit for brains, and more bullets in the gun he held than added up to his IQ.

“What’re the pigs doing sending a sweet little thing like you after me, huh?” His sneer was oily, the very expression would have made her skin crawl if adrenaline hadn’t been pumping through her veins. “C’mon baby, let me by and I don’t have to hurt you.”

The Glock in his hand was hanging loosely by his side, but Natasha didn’t move, standing in front of him, her finger millimeters away from her rifle’s trigger. “Not today, Harrison.”

“What a shame.” Harrison lunged forwards, his weapon raised, but she was faster. One gloved hand dropped her rifle, the other closed around his wrist, slamming it back into a two by four running along the length of the fence beside them. “You fucking whore!”

A fist slammed into her side, forcing a winded grunt to escape her as she slammed his arm back into the fence, the Glock slipping from his grip and landing between them. His eyes darted down, ripping his arm free and swung at her, making for his weapon, but a swift kick to his knee had him sprawling out on the ground.

Natasha pounced on him, a knee dug deep into the small of his back as she wrestled his arm behind him. His other hand stretched out in front of him, scratching at the dirt while trying to snatch the gun off the ground.

She pulled his arm back harder, glancing up to see if any of her team was nearby, but nothing. Harrison took that moment to buck up, his head snapping back and bouncing off her helmet and Nat reeled back, her eyes watering.

Harrison used her loosened grip to pull his arm free and get up, but he was cowed when Nat pulled her side arm, placing the barrel against the back of his neck. “Don’t fucking move.”

Jake chose that moment to show up, his rifle drawn as he saw his teammate perched on the back of their suspect, her pistol to his head. “Damn Nix,” he whistled.

“Shut up and help me?”

“Yes ma’am.”

If she had a hand free, she would have flipped him off, but instead, she watched him press his radio, calling in a Code 4, all suspects in custody. “Hands behind your back, Harrison. Let’s go.”

Jake’s rifle came into view, pointed down at the man underneath Natasha, daring him to try anything. Fortunately, he didn’t and once the zip ties were secured, she hauled him to his feet, frog marching him out of the backyard and down the sidewalk. She passed him off to a uni, keeping a sharp eye on the man while the cuffs replaced her zip ties, and Natasha couldn’t help but grin a little when Harrison glowered at her through the back window of the police cruiser.

“Nix. Nice takedown,” Coyote said, clapping her shoulder. “Glad we got at least one of those bastards, Rooster and I both had to drop ours. Then Seresin booked it after that shithead and you were gone.”

She scoffed, a sharp grin taking over her expression. “You think I’m gonna let him get the collar? In your dream, Yote.”

“Gotta show us all up, huh?”

“As the only woman here, fuck yeah I do.” Natasha Trace. 24-David. Phoenix. No matter what they called her, she remained the only woman on LAPD SWAT, shattering the expectations of the old guard who had condemned the mere idea of her presence in SWAT Academy.

“Be the best,” her former partner had told her. “That way they can’t ignore you. Prove them all wrong.” And prove them wrong, she did. Five years later, she remained on 20 Squad, but she was still the only woman in the black tactical gear. The only one standing shoulder to shoulder with a whole room of men, some of whom had wanted her gone.

The six person team of herself, Seresin, Rooster, Coyote, Micks, and the infamous 20-David himself, an older cop known only as Mav, had been hunting down a gang of white supremacists with the goal of attacking a number of Jewish synagogues in the hopes of burning them to the ground. James Harrison had been the second in command to the shot-caller, Morgan Whitmore.

Whitmore and his crew had trashed two synagogues already, having intentionally killed a number of people who tried to escape, and was now intent on disappearing underground with the rest of his so-called vigilante group, The True Bloods. With Harrison in custody, all they had to do now was lean on him, drop the blame for everything solidly on him and watch him scramble to deny everything.

“Roos! Whitmore!” Natasha yelled, pointing to a tall, scrawny, bald man about a hundred feet off from where they stood in the middle of a swarm of flashing lights.

She took off after him, her boots slapping against the pavement and her rifle bouncing against her thighs with every step she took. “Give it up, man!” Natasha heard Rooster yell. “You’re trapped.”

“That’s what you think, you k-” Whitmore shouted back, getting cut off as Nat barreled into him from the side, having snuck through a gate and tackled him to the ground with a grunt.

“Watch your damn mouth, asshole,” she spat, cuffing him and if she pulled the ties a little tighter than usual, no one would know aside from her.

Her teammate hauled Whitmore to his feet, rolling out his shoulders as he did. The same blue-black uniform she wore clung tight to him, it did to all of them. Builds hidden underneath the bulk of their vests and adorned with keepers full of everything they could possibly need for a job. Thigh holsters held Kimber Custom TLE pistols close to their bodies, ready at a moment if the rifles slung across their chests didn’t do the job.

It was hard not to feel like a badass when kitted out like they were. “Got him,” Bradley chirped, shoving the bald man forwards. He was caught by Mav, who led him over to the remaining squad car, shoving him into the backseat with little ceremony.

“Nice takedown, Nix.”

“Thanks. Asshole never saw me coming, then boom! I rode him to the ground like the world’s shittiest surfboard.”

Mickey laughed, the sound bouncing off the houses lining the street. “I’m sorry I missed it, you shouted and then you were just gone. Half the unis nearly took off after you before Mav told them to stand down.” He’d pulled his helmet off, dark curls sticking up at all angles before he raked a gloved hand through them. “Yote was talking about grabbing drinks after this, you in?”

Natasha shook her head, unbuckling her helmet with one hand. “Nah, I just want to go home and not think about things,” she replied. “Thanks though.”

Honestly, she was done with today. Natasha just wanted to go home and rebinge Brooklyn 99 while shoveling spring rolls into her face while in her sweatpants, and hopefully she came home just in time to catch sight of her new neighbour.

“You talk to her yet?”

“No.”

“C’mon Nix. Hot neighbor isn’t just gonna pop over and say something if you don’t make that jump,” Mickey reasoned, keeping his voice low.

An arm slung itself over her and Mickey’s shoulder, Jake dropping his weight onto them both. “Whatcha whispering about?” He had dropped his own voice to a stage whisper while still speaking loud enough to catch the attention of the rest of the squad. “Hot girls?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Eyes immediately turned to scrutinize her and Natasha’s cheeks flushed. “So there is a hot girl!”

Walking back to the armoured truck, dubbed Black Betty by most of the SWAT teams, Natasha had to endure comment after comment related to her love life, or lack thereof. “What’s she like?” Coyote pressed, sliding into the back of the van.

Natasha stayed silent, hoping Mickey would too, but no such luck befell her. “She hasn’t talked to her yet.”

“What?” Rooster asked from the driver seat. “How haven’t you said anything?”

“Because Chicken, it’s different for me than it is for you. I don’t even know if she likes girls.” Her face was hot and she was staring at her boots with such an intensity it was a miracle they hadn’t burst into flame. “And I can’t just do what you do. If you can even call that flirting.”

Jake bumped her shoulder. “Chin up. If she is into chicks, she’ll go for you.”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha slumped back against the wall of the vehicle, grabbing onto the bar above her head so she didn’t go flying across the back. “You don’t know that.”

“No we don’t,” Mav spoke up, his eyes kind. “But if she’s made you, the most cynical person on this team, crack her shell a little, she has to be special.”

Letting Maverick’s words settle in the air, Natasha thought back to the last time she had seen you. You had come through the door like a hurricane had made a home in your veins, whirling and barely taking a moment to stop and breathe. She’d been on her way out of the building, but paused when she saw the determination in your eyes and the large box in front of you. Natasha had watched you haul the box into the elevator, your arms flexing as you carried it past her.

It had taken everything in her not to run after you and offer help, especially when she had caught sight of the way your legs looked in the black athletic leggings that were marked by what she had assumed was flour.

That was three weeks ago and she hadn’t laid eyes on you since, even if the two of you lived right next door to one another.

Maybe she would be lucky tonight.

===

Little did Natasha know, you were thinking the same thing as you boxed up the last of the treats from your bakery.

You had seen her for the first time while moving in four months ago and it had taken everything in you not to drop the box you were carrying past her. You knew she was staring at you and it filled you with a giddiness that had you squealing to yourself when you finally made it upstairs with the last box of books. The woman next door didn’t seem to do much, shifting from work to home and back again, dressed in a tight black tee and tactical pants that hugged her thighs in a way that had you drooling when she passed you in the hall, offering a tight smile.

Three weeks ago though? She had grabbed the door for you to haul the new nightstand you had just bought through the entryway and into the elevator, you hadn’t even had the time to say hi.

But from the little you saw of her, the only things you knew were that she worked for SWAT, she liked spring rolls and cherry ice cream, she listened to all sorts of music, but had a preference for rock and punk, and she was up at nearly all hours, seeming to have no schedule to what you assumed were her days off. You didn’t even know her name, but you had heard a shorter man with dark curls call her Nix once.

She didn’t need to know that you called her that in your head whenever you did see her, lost in her own world, earbuds blasting something you couldn’t make out.

But you had steeled yourself and spent an hour past closing decorating a box you were going to fill up with some leftover treats that hadn’t sold in time. If she didn’t like them, maybe she could bring them to her team and hopefully you didn’t just shoot yourself in the foot when it came to your very attractive neighbour.

===

Natasha heaved herself out of her car, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and made for the glass doors of her building. Her body may have ached like she had been thrown down a set of stairs, but she still kept her eyes out for your blue car, finding it parked in its usual spot.

You were home, but she had likely missed you on her way to grab the spring roll wrappers.

“Fuck.”

Natasha wasn’t a creep. She wasn’t, but after the day she had, the bruise creeping down her forehead from the headbutt earlier, she could do with the soft smile you always gave her when she saw you.

It made everything better, okay? And so did the way you always smelt like cinnamon, the scent stuck in your hair.

But she would have to wait for another day, Natasha thought, as she dragged herself up the steps to her apartment. You were home and doing your own things, why waste time dwelling on a situation she had no control over? Even if butterflies erupted in her gut at the mere thought of you waving to her, smiling like you did.

Nah.

Dwelling on it wasn’t a good idea, that would only end in disappointment.

Her keys rattled against the wood, the clinking accompanying the crinkling of the plastic bag she held. Finally, her door was open and Natasha slipped inside, leaning back against her closed door as she could finally try and relax from the chaos that had governed her day.

Boots tumbled over one another as she tossed them against the shoe rack and her backpack and sweater were abandoned on the chair by her entryway. She would deal with them later, right now she needed food and Natasha had never been more thankful to her past self who had prepared the spring roll filling how her best friend’s grandmother had taught her and left it to sit while she was at work.

Now all she had to do was assemble and fry them, maybe bake them if she wasn’t feeling up to the task of dealing with hot oil. They wouldn’t be the same if she baked them, but it meant a lot less effort and more time spent sinking into her couch cushions.

So she did just that; each roll getting placed on a tray until it was full. Then into the oven and Natasha dropped her dishes in the sink, grimacing at the clattering sound before traipsing off to change out of her work clothes and into a tank top and the softest pair of sweats she owned.

Natasha had just sat down, pulled her blanket off the floor and onto her lap when a tentative knock sounded from the door. Great. She was really hoping it wasn’t her team, her head hurt and the last thing she needed was to contend with Rooster and his monster appetite.

She refused to share her food with him anymore, given how much he ate. That was a mistake she only made once.

Pulling herself from the couch with a groan, Natasha padded over to the door, stealing a glance through the peephole to find… you. What were you doing at her door?

Her body seemed to lock up, completely paralyzed at the thought as to why you were outside. Why now? And more importantly, what was in the box you were holding? Mickey and the boys would never let her live it down if she didn’t answer the door. Hell, she didn’t think she would forgive herself if she didn’t talk to you face to face.

But she was still frozen behind her door, your shifting posture happening in front of her unblinking eyes. It was when you sighed and brought your hand up to knock again that something knocked loose in her mind and Natasha cracked her door open right before you made contact. “Umm… hi?”

In your mind, you were whooping and hollering, but on the outside, you gave her a small smile. “Hey, I uh… I live next door and I know we haven’t actually met in person yet, but I wanted to bring these over to you.” You held the blue box out in front of you, eyes darting between the white ribbon holding the lid on and her curious expression.

“Oh, thank you,” Natasha said, a smidgen of caution lacing her tone. She opened the door wider, stepping fully into your view, her hands out to take the box from you. “What are they?”

You let out an awkward laugh, passing over the box. “Oh, right. Sorry. I own a bakery and I don’t usually have treats left over at the end of the day, but I had more than I could eat on my own so I figured I would bring them over.” You were rambling, having been struck dumb by her in a tank top, biceps defined in a way that you knew there was strength in her. “A few muffins and some other pastries.”

“Any blueberry ones?” Natasha was grinning at your flushed cheeks, finding your apparent nervousness adorable as you fiddled with the belt loop on your tight jeans.

“Actually yes.”

Giving you a smile of her own, Nat pulled the ribbon free of its bow and the smell of baked goods filled the air between you both, making her inhale deeply and let out a groan. “How you have anything left over at the end of the day when these smell like this, doesn’t make sense,” she mumbled, peering into the now open box.

While she searched through the box for the blueberry muffins, you stood ramrod straight, trying to ignore your reaction to the groan she had let out. The black tank top and gray joggers were bad enough, but add in a sound like the one that had slipped from her mouth? God, this was one of those moments where it was both a blessing and a curse that you found women attractive.

“I’m sorry. I should have introduced myself, Natasha,” she said, swapping the box to her left hand so she could offer her right to shake yours.

Natasha. God, even her name was pretty. Focusing your thoughts, you took her hand and introduced yourself, immediately priding yourself on not freaking out over the calluses on her palms and the small ridges of scars.

You fell into a natural silence, neither one of you sure on what to say next. “So…”

“I uh..”

“Sorry, you go first,” you told Natasha with a nervous laugh.

She was staring intently at the box in her hand, a blush creeping up her neck. The curiosity in your eyes combined with the warmth of your expression, and the tight jeans that cling to your legs had all rational thoughts escaping her mind. Natasha just wanted to drag you inside and never let you leave, but the logical part of her brain reminded her that as an LAPD officer, that was kidnapping and it was illegal. “Just uh… thank you for these. Really needed them today.”

The shy smile turned into a beaming one, the butterflies in your stomach coming back in full force. “You’re so welcome, Natasha. Happy to bring some joy to one of LAPD’s finest.” There was an inflection on your tone that you hadn’t intended but you couldn’t lie and say that watching the blush spread higher up over her cheeks wasn’t satisfying. “I’ll get out of your hair, have a good night.”

You stepped back, scanning over her face one more time, this time your eyes caught on the growing purple bruise halfway down her forehead. “Oh my god! What happened? Are you okay?” You knew concern flooded your once gentle expression, a sudden change from a heart beat earlier.

Natasha chuckled a little. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just a job-related thing. I’m all good,” she replied, waving off your concern. Yet deep down, she was preening under your attention, relishing the fact that she had caught your eye, even if it was mostly from an injury that seemed to throb in time with her rapidly beating heart.

“Can I ask what happened?” Your voice was quiet, very curious but not wanting to overstep. “Completely fine if not, but that looks like it hurts.”

She opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by the oven timer going off. “Ummm…”

“All good. I’ll let you go get that,” you reassured her with a smile. “Hopefully that heals up soon. Have a good night, Natasha.” You turned away, hoping she didn’t catch the dejected look on your face. A part of you wanted to turn back and hope she invited you in, but a larger part of you was wary.

You never wanted to intrude, a leftover piece of your childhood that would never be fully left in the past. Especially now.

But as you disappeared into your apartment, you didn’t catch the pained look on the SWAT officer’s face, who now felt worse than before. She had been this close to inviting you in, a second more and Natasha would have dragged you inside, content to spill her heart at your feet in order to have you stay just a moment longer.

Natasha closed her door, the bit of muffin she’d eaten turning to sand in her mouth. She had your name now and the name of your bakery if the pastry box was any clue, and she vowed on the now aching part of her heart that she would talk to you again.

===

Three days later, Natasha still hadn’t seen you around the building. She hoped you weren’t avoiding her, but at this point, she didn’t care.

Mickey and one of the guys from 50-Squad, Bob, had teased the everloving crap out of her when she finally came clean about talking to you. They were immediately planning a trip to your bakery so they could try and catch a glimpse of you, but were overheard by the rest of her team who then wanted in, and now here she was, standing outside of your storefront with six hungry and nosy SWAT guys.

“It’s cute,” Jake said absentmindedly. “Wonder if it’s as cute as its owner.”

Natasha narrowed her eyes, smacking Jake. Hard. “Fucking enough Seresin.”

“Jeez Nix, okay.” He backed away from her, his hands up in a placating manner. Coyote backed up too, a teasing look in his eyes that were fixed on Natasha. “Was just kidding.”

There was a stormy look on her face, a thunderstorm swirling through her eyes, while normally severe, had become downright terrifying. Deep down though, Natasha’s heart was pounding in her chest like she was chasing down a suspect, her hands were clammy, and while she would never say it out loud, she was tempted to just get back in the car and drive off.

She hadn’t even been to your bakery alone before and now she had somehow dragged six loveable dumbasses along for the ride.

What was she thinking?

“Okay, I’m going in. Alone.” The men around her started to protest, but Natasha cut them off with a glare. “What do you want?”

Her team started talking over one another, all seeming to jostle in place in order to be heard. Bob and Mickey sidled up to Natasha, each making note of someone else’s order, offering to come inside with her in low tones of voice.

From inside the bakery, you had been restocking muffins when three gray cars pulled up, out stepping seven people all dressed in black tactical pants and thick black boots. You peeked over the display case to try and catch a glimpse of who was coming inside, much like you always did. But the hard stare of a shorter person made your heart skip in its usually steady rhythm.

Natasha had come by.

Closing your eyes, you tried to steady yourself. Your hands fisted your apron so tight as you steeled yourself for the door to swing open and reveal the woman you had practically been drooling over days earlier, but it never came.

Instead, you heard voices arguing on the sidewalk in front of the door, quippy, teasing remarks being flung back and forth.

“What the hell is that about?”

“No clue, Anya. I’m about to go tell them off, though.”

Anya, one of the few employees you had, laughed. “I don’t know. I mean, look. Ms. Jane’s baby boy is fascinated by the voices.”

“Maybe so, but Ms. Jane will not be impressed at the swearing.” You were right, the auburn haired woman sitting in the far corner of your bakery was glaring at the door like her expression alone could silence the ‘crass language,’ as she called it.

Clearly, she had never heard you slam your hip into the counter.

“Stay here, the last batch of muffins should be done in less than two minutes. I’m going to go give the loudmouths outside crap.” You rounded the counter, gesturing to the back room as you headed for the door.

You swung it open, nearly clipping the arm of a man nearly a foot taller than you. “Excuse me, if you are going to have an argument, can you please not have it five feet away from my front door? You’re driving off my customers.”

Heads turned to face you, all of them having the decency to look a little chastised. But you weren’t looking at them. Your eyes had fallen on Natasha, who stood nearly hidden behind a blonde, her eyes downcast with a bright blush crawling up to the tips of her ears. “Sorry, we were just trying to figure out which one of us was going to go in. Just so we didn’t take up the whole place,” explained the shortest man with curly black hair. He was the man you had seen your neighbour walking with in the early days of you moving into your new place.

“Completely okay if you all come in,” you reassured him with a smile. “Just keep the swearing to a minimum and your voices lower, officers.” You ducked back inside, practically running back behind the counter, giving Anya a wide eyed look.

“What happened?”

“They’re hot!” You hissed in a whisper. “Like model-on-a-magazine-cover level hot, Anya! And I just invited all of them in!”

Anya gave you a sympathetic look, a laugh escaping her. “God bless and fucking curse your bisexual ass, huh?”

You didn’t respond, choosing to make a series of frantic gestures that definitely made you look crazy, but you couldn’t find it within you to care. The door swung open, the little bell making a tinkling noise that had you abruptly putting your hands down and mumbling something about the muffins being done.

In the back room, you leaned against the wall, cursing your awkwardness. “It’s just some very attractive SWAT officers. They can’t hurt you,” you paused, catching the wording of your quiet rambling. “No, they could definitely hurt you, but they won’t. They have no reason to do so.”

A few moments passed and you could hear Anya chatting with a few of the people who had followed Natasha inside. You hadn’t been avoiding her, okay, maybe a little. But that was only because you had been crazy busy on your feet all day and you just wanted to lie down.

Not because you didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of probably one of the most attractive women you had ever seen.

Not at all.

Who were you kidding? “C’mon, woman up. You have a few more muffins to bring out to the front, have a chat with the customers of your bakery, dumbass. Then you can come back and hide.” Pep talk aside, you knew that you couldn’t stay back here forever.

So you grabbed the tray Anya had pulled out of the oven and carried it up to the front, plastering a smile on your face. “Excuse me, Anya.”

Ducking down, you pulled open the case and started adding your freshly baked muffins to the few that remained. “What are these ones?” A voice asked, startling you. “Sorry.”

A glance up told you that the curly haired man was talking to you. “Oh umm… brown sugar cinnamon. It’s like a cinnamon bun, but in muffin form.”

“Interesting… I’ll grab one of them to try.” His eyes seemed far more knowledgeable about who you were than he was letting on. “I’m Mickey.”

“Nice to meet one of Natasha’s coworkers,” you replied, slipping a muffin into a paper bag.

Mickey gave you a curious look. “Did she talk about us?”

You shook your head as you rang him up. “No, but it isn’t hard to put the pieces together when you all come in here together and you have come by the building every now and then.”

“I guess it isn’t,” he mused, tapping his card. “Nice to meet you too. It’s not everyday that we get to watch Nat fall over her feet because she finds someone attractive.” Mickey stepped away with a wink, his muffin in his hand as he and the other SWAT officers left, Anya having helped those of them who had wanted a treat.

The door shut behind him, Natasha giving you a shy wave as she left, which you returned. But a few minutes after they had pulled away, you were still standing there behind the counter in near shock. “She finds me attractive?”

===

The rest of the day passed in a blur for Natasha. She had seen you a few times while her team was at your bakery, overheard what Mickey had said to you (she had slapped him a few times after they left), and now, at the end of her day, her drive home was full of mental snapshots of you and the words of your coworker “God bless and fucking curse your bisexual ass, huh?”

Huh indeed.

Your car wasn’t in its usual place when she pulled in. Probably working late.

Oh well. After a day like today, all Natasha wanted to do was lie down and maybe, just maybe, she would catch a glimpse of you.

Her steps up to her apartment were labored, her ribs aching with each footfall jostling her, and the bruising under her shirt was enough to make even the most hardened officers SWAT had cringe in sympathy.

As she opened the door to the hallway, the elevator doors slid open to reveal you bundled up in a massive sweater. You spotted her and nearly dropped the bag in your hand in your hurry to grab the door and help Natasha forwards. “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “Just have to get some pain meds into me and I’ll be fine, Gorgeous.” Natasha didn’t even notice that the pet name slipped out, too busy trying not to overly focus on the feel of your hands against her hip as you helped her down the hall.

Your brain stuttered to a halt, risking a sideways glance at Natasha who didn’t seem to blink at the name she had just called you. She stopped in front of her door, trying to dig her hand into her jacket pocket but grunting from the pain. “Can you…”

Her body had frozen as stiff as could be. You weren’t a medical professional by any means but you knew for a fact that Natasha was hurting badly. “Yeah, here.” You stuck your other hand into her pocket, plucking the keys out as deftly as you could, grinning a little at the little LEGO police officer keychain that swayed from the movement. “There you go,” you mumbled, pushing the door open with your foot, leading Natasha inside.

She kicked her shoes off, slowly making her way to the couch while you stood aimlessly in the front entryway, looking unsure and a little out of place in the sparse but colourful apartment.

The woman in front of you sank into the cushions of the black couch, pulled a blanket so vibrant it nearly glowed off the back of it and tried, yet failed, to throw it over her feet, her muscles seizing and making her stop as suddenly as she had started. “Hey, hey,” you said softly, padding across the floor and rearranging the blanket over her legs. “I’m going to grab you some water and maybe something to eat and then I’ll get out of your hair, okay? Just… don’t hurt yourself.”

Natasha looked hesitantly up at you, eyes moving from the blanket you still held to the concern in your eyes. “Or…”

An eyebrow raised curiously, your expression so puppy-like that Natasha huffed a laugh that quickly turned into a groan. “Or what?”

“Or you could stay here for a bit? Keep me company?”

Her words were so quiet you nearly missed them. Stunned into silence, all you could do was blink at her, the questions hanging in the air tinged golden by the setting sun. It was an offer that glittered like the gossamer threads of a spider web, something so delicate that a simple movement could shatter it beyond repair.

Your gaze flitted over her face, trying to discern if this was a joke. Mickey knew your feelings for her, had parsed them out as easily as you could breathe, as easily as kneading dough. Had he said something?

But maybe, maybe Natasha felt the same electricity under her skin when your eyes met. Felt the pull towards you despite barely knowing who you were. Maybe there was a chance and all you had to do was jump.

“Someone has to make sure you don’t hurt yourself anymore than you already have,” you teased, trying to will away the blush that seemed to explode over your cheeks. “I can’t have the very pretty badass next door falling off the couch trying to reach the remote, now can I?”

Now it was Natasha’s turn to blush, her ears erupted with a bright scarlet so suddenly it felt like they had been set alight with how warm her body seemed to get under your grin. Nearly preening but also suddenly shy, a conflict in emotions that sent nerves to chase away the giddy butterflies that had made their home in her stomach. “Awesome,” she said lamely, cringing at how awkward she sounded, even to her own ears.

Biting back your smile, you chose to spread out the blanket over her lap, brushing a hand over her bare arm before moving towards the kitchen. You busied yourself with finding a cup, filling it with water and quietly humming as you waited for it to fill, losing yourself in your thoughts until the water rushing over your hand pulled you free from the daydream.

The cup clinked against the coaster and you turned to see Natasha watching you over the top of her phone. “Did you want to change into something else before you get too comfortable?”

A barely-there nod came from the SWAT officer who had seemingly lost her voice. “Ye- Yeah. Please.” There were a million thoughts racing through her head, none of them appropriate for this scenario, but they remained there. They were proof that it wasn’t just an emotional attraction, but you, sweet, kind, gentle you, wouldn’t act on anything while she could barely bend over to pick something up on her own.

You bent forwards, letting her rest her arms on you before slowly helping her stand, nearly stopping when she groaned, but the breathless sound of her voice had you continue on, your own face heating as the soft noise registered. “Where’s your room?” You had asked softly, shuffling your socked feet over the hardwood as Natasha moved slowly towards the hall.

In her room, you left her half sitting against her bed while you pulled open the drawer she indicated to find so many pairs of sweatpants they caught on the lip of the drawer above. “Any preference?”

Natasha shook her head, slowly busying herself with taking off her shirt. The compression material clung to her, forcing her to look in your direction with a silent plea.

It took nothing for you to oblige, rising to your feet and standing between her legs, eyes seeking permission to touch her. Another gentle nod and you moved slowly, pulling the shirt away from her good side and Natasha slipped her arm out.

In a few short moves, the black compression shirt was replaced by a soft cream sweatshirt and Natasha hadn’t stopped staring at you, so engrossed in the task that it never seemed sexual. If anything, the gentle motions of your hands, the soft touches felt like you were offering her a comfort she had seemingly gone too long without experiencing them.

Leggings were swiftly changed into sweatpants, your positions switching as she now stood over you while you drew the material up and let Natasha finish the rest, your back turned to her, offering a sense of privacy that was still reassuring.

You deposited her back on the couch, mumbling something about changing out of your work clothes before crossing the room and slipping out the door. Unlocking your door, you all but ran into your room, your cheeks flushing with heat.

Why had you offered to help her change? You hadn’t been able to meet her gaze after the initial check for permission, your eyes darting everywhere aside from her face. They fell on the bruise, the image sticking with you even after you had covered it with her sweater, dunking you under cold water the moment your mind started to wander into less savory territory.

What happened to cause that? To be fair, you didn’t know much about what SWAT did, but a bruise that large, practically turning the smooth expanse of her torso black and blue, wasn't normal.

Unless it was?

Either way, you knew that you had to calm your flustered brain down. Obsessing over the muscle you had felt under your touch, the heat of her skin… Fucking hell.

Yeah, no. Bad brain.

So you flexed your hands, grabbed a pillow and pressed it to your face, screaming into it in a last ditch attempt to clear your mind. Then you changed into the shorts you wore to bed, a pair of grey sweats and a white tank top, before snatching up your slippers and shuffling next door.

A timid knock was met with a voice telling you to come in, and you opened the door to find Natasha halfway off the couch, the remote in her hand. “I can explain,” she rushed out, looking ashamed at having been caught.

You blinked at her, frozen in place, your brain having not yet caught up to what you were seeing. “Why didn’t you just wait for me to come back?”

“Because I feel bad that the first time you’re over here, I’m basically immobile and you have to help me with things,” she explained, picking at her sweater. “And…” Natasha exhaled, shrugging her non-injured shoulder.

Her unfinished sentence hung in the air between you both, a delicate thing nestled in uncertainty and fear.

“And what?”

Natasha gave you a weak smile, finally letting her eyes meet yours. “And, I think you’re pretty cool and I want to get to know you better.”

Oh.

Oh! Eyes wide, you took a hesitant step forward and for the third time today, you had to be brave and take the leap. “Natasha…” you said softly, fearful that the stillness around you would shatter if you dared speak too loud, dared to move too fast.

But that’s what this had been, hadn’t it? Daring? You had dared to bring those treats over a week ago. Dared to give her a wave and smile every time you passed her by, and in a way, you had dared to open your heart up, risking rejection and scorn, from the woman now shuffling awkwardly on the couch before your incredulous look.

“Or, I mean…”

“No,” you cut her off, moving toward the couch and her semi-reclined form. Brown eyes tracked your movements with curiosity, the SWAT officer now alert with the sight of your determination doing its best to protect your vulnerable heart. “Don’t take it back.”

Natasha paused, her next words on the tip of her tongue. You stood in front of her, an unreadable expression on your face, and she felt exposed. Stripped down to the deepest darkest thoughts in her heart and soul, you were winding your way past every haphazard barricade she attempted to throw up to protect herself and that terrified her.

She so desperately wanted to know everything about you, what made you tick, what made you laugh so loudly she could hear you through the shared wall, all of it. She found herself wanting to see the look on her team’s face when she introduced you, wanting to know what made you you.

Natasha Trace, the skeptic, the cynic, the one who never progressed past the second date because ‘what was the point?’ had somehow, inexplicably found someone that made her want to try.

You were closer now, standing between her knees watching her with an intensity that nearly stole her breath. “Be brave,” she thought distractedly.

“Natasha…” you nearly whispered. “I want that too.” You watched her eyes fall shut, relief seeming to wash over her as she drew a shaky breath, her fidgeting hands stilling as pressed a warm palm on your hip.

Her touch seemed to burn through your pants, through skin and muscle, right down to the bone, branding you. “I didn’t…” she trailed off, glancing up at you, her heart in her throat. “I didn’t think that…”

The words left unspoken seemed to echo in the sudden stillness filling her apartment. Neither of you had dared to dream about what might happen if the other expressed interest, instead you had longed in silence, in fear of ruining a slowly growing friendship and if you could be together, at least you had the other, right?

It all happened at once, Natasha’s other hand grasped your hips, drawing you forward until your knees bumped the couch between her spread legs and your breath caught. In a sudden display of strength, despite her injury, Natasha pulled you onto the couch, settling you astride her lap, your hands finding the soft material of the sweater you had helped her with barely 20 minutes earlier.

Now, eye to eye, you saw the flecks of green in her irises, felt the soft shaky exhale she let out as you adjusted your position, careful to not put too much weight on her, not while she was still hurt. You let your eyes flutter shut, too overwhelmed by her attention and the feeling of her thumb grazing the waistband of your sweats, occasionally letting it brush your skin.

Your mind was screaming at you and it sounded a lot like Anya yelling “Girl! I’m not even gay and I would kiss her!” So once again, you pushed past your hesitation and brought a hand up to her cheek, cradling her face, your heart nearly leaping out of your throat when she leant against it, pressing a barely-there kiss to the meat of your palm. The gesture so light you had to see if she had even done it.

That was it.

You had to, you couldn’t forgive yourself if you didn’t kiss her.

So you did. Ducking your head, you drew Natasha towards you, letting your lips graze hers as softly as she kissed your hand. You didn’t even get the chance to pull away before she was kissing you back like you were the only thing holding her on Earth. It was demanding, forceful, just like the woman beneath you and you held on as she stole control from you, content to let her hands roam just as yours did.

Eventually persistence won out and her lips parted yours, her tongue exploring briefly until you pulled back a fraction to catch the breath she had wrung from you. Natasha’s pupils were blown wide, something akin to hunger dancing in them, but as she shifted a little, her ribs pulled and she had to groan.

You moved to climb off of her, concern quickly chasing away the fog her kiss had dragged over your mind, but she held fast, callused hands flat against your bare skin. “No. Stay.”

“But..”

Natasha shook her head. “I’m fine,” and you couldn’t tell if she was lying, but that thought left your mind as soon as her lips touched yours again. A thumb brushed your waist, startling a gasp against her mouth and you could feel Natasha’s smirk as she kissed you deeper.

But you were no longer content to be passive in this kiss, your tongue tangling with hers and wresting control from your SWAT officer. Her gasp made it all worth it, because if her kissing you back wasn’t enough, this was.

Natasha was just as affected as you, so when she pulled back to catch her breath, you had to smile. “What are you grinning at?”

“You.”

She ducked her head, a blush climbing her neck until it reached her ears. “So…” she said after a pause. “What now?”

You shrugged. “You hungry? I could always make something to eat before we watch a movie. Unless you have a better idea?”

Sneaking one last kiss, Natasha grinned. “That sounds perfect.”

===

A/N: Hey guys, Happy Pride, and thanks for reading! This is for both @dakotakazansky and for @/sylviebell, both have had huge parts in fixing my hand to write this, so it is for the both of them!

This was also inspired by this moodboard made for my 700 followers celebration

Taglist: @startrekfangirl2233 @sarahsmi13s @horseshoegirl @teacupsandtopgun @dakotakazansky @floydsglasses @theviexenviper @cherrycola27 @roosterforme

[delfiore]

omg! congratulations on 1k! your writing is truly amazing and i love it so much, and for the first time i was hoping to make a request?:) natasha romanoff with prompt 92 and 26?

a/n: thank you! ☺️ let’s switch it up now. ngl this was a pretty hard request but i’m glad you did anyway. it was rly fun trying to piece it together :)

26: There will never be a place for you here anymore.

92: It was always you. No matter how many times I’ve disagreed, it was always you.

word count: 0.6k

warning: some vormir-ing

You stopped by the ledge, swinging your arms backwards just in time to catch yourself from plummeting 60 floors to the ground. There was no escape from here, it was either to jump or confront whatever was in between you and the stairs leading up here, where you came from.

You heard a gun cock, and closed your eyes slowly, turning around.

“Don’t make any sudden moves, or I will shoot.”

Your heart dropped. You didn’t think it would come to this. The held-at-gunpoint-with-no-chance-of-escape part, yes, but not the part where you regret having to die from the hands of the woman you loved.

“Will you?” You said, bringing your hands up.

“Tony had his suspicions.” She said, gripping her gun tighter. “You were always there that it seemed to specific to be coincidences. The explosion in San Marino? So many people died in that.“

You clenched your jaw.

“Just tell me why.” She said, her voice firm, but her eyes softened, like she was begging for an answer. “Why did you do this?”

“I was ordered to. It was my assignment.” You explained slowly. “I was assigned to sabotage and gain intel on the Avengers.”

“Then why not just take the files once you’ve got it? Why linger?” Natasha pressed.

“Because they wanted you dead!” You cut her off. “It was always you. No matter how many times I’ve disagreed, it was always you.”

There was a sudden hesitation. “Then why didn’t you kill me?”

You sighed, feeling tears well in your eyes. You had a feeling she knew why, but she didn’t want to admit it to herself yet. Hell, you had only barely admitted it yourself. You had been compromised. Your mission no longer achievable, as if you were to go through it, you would be ripping your bleeding heart out only to discover that it beat for her, only her.

“Put your hands behind your head, and get on your knees! Now!” The SWAT team arrived and started barking orders at you.

“Stand down.” Nat said.

“But, Ms. Romanoff—“

“I said stand down.” She turned to the officer.

“I’ve been a tool all my life. I am a killer, but I never looked back at the trail of blood that I leave behind. I guess I’m different from you in that way.” You laughed somberly. “Then you kissed me, and suddenly I felt as if my entire life has been a lie, that maybe there is more to my existence than what I’m told to do.”

You reached down slowly, her and the SWAT team surrounding you reacted quickly, as you undid your holster and tossed it to the ground in front of you. Natasha pursed her lips to stop them from quivering, her hands turning white around her gun.

“Thank you for showing me that I have a heart.” You swallowed a lump in your throat, smiling tearfully. “And I am sorry.”

As you stared down the barrel of her gun, you started to wonder what it would be like if things were different. It was almost poetic, that you, an emotionless killer, would die at the hands of the only person that you cared about.

“There will never a place for you here anymore.” Natasha said finally, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

You smiled sadly. “I know.”

You took a step back, your heel hitting the ledge, the wind rushing past your face downwards towards the street below. You saw her eyes widened. You weren’t going to make your lover have to kill you.

You would do it yourself.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

In Harm's Way | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! This request comes from the wonderful @glxwingrxse! 🌹

Send me your comments, requests, and / or submissions! 🥰

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @glxwingrxse @psychoticmason @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @lonewolf471 💘

Warnings: Jealous Bucky, unprotected PIV sex, commando Bucky, fake relationship, angry sex

-----------------------------------------

The team strode confidently through the front doors of the mansion, looking like completely different people. Bucky and Torres flanked you on either side, clad in black tuxedos that Nat warned them not to "fidget" in. You swatted Torres on the sleeve when you saw him out of your peripheral vision doing exactly what Nat had cautioned him against. He cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders as Bucky rolled his eyes.

He'd complained about Torres coming along, but he was the only one who was well versed enough in tech while also being unrecognizable. If Bucky covered up his metallic limb, no one ever recognized him- his short hair made sure of that. The silky black dress that clung to your shape practically guaranteed that no one would know who you were, as they’d all be too distracted by your body- and Bucky fell victim to it over and over again.

The three of you joined the crowd in ogling at the excessively extravagant house of Кирилл Сидоров, an international arms dealer selling black market vibranium to make weapons invented by Hydra. He was a known associate of Ulysses Klaue, only bigger, badder, and infinitely richer. His distribution list, suppliers, manufacturers, and associates were all stored in the computer in his office, which no one had been able to crack remotely. It was on Torres to get into his office and extract the information while everyone was focused on the VIP guests attending Сидоров's 45th birthday event.

Anyone who was anyone in the 'big bad' community was in attendance, leaving you with an icky feeling that made you want to shower. As the party picked up and attendees began getting sloshed, Torres broke off from you and Bucky to find the office. "May I offer a glass of champagne to the beautiful woman?" Bucky asked as he presented you with a crystal champagne flute that definitely cost more than your dress. You blushed at his comment and took the drink with one shaky hand, hating how easily he could make you melt. He watched as you pressed the glass to your lips, realizing for the first time in his life that he was jealous of a champagne flute.

"You're doing that staring thing Sam warned me about..." you joked as you noticed Bucky's fixed gaze. He rolled his eyes at you and cursed Sam for always bringing that up before taking a long sip of his pricey whiskey. The two of you stood close, Bucky keeping his eye on the door located behind you while your eyes followed Сидоров‘s every move. It took every ounce of your strength and determination to keep your focus on the bad guy with Bucky standing so close that his cedar wood and bergamot cologne filled your lungs. If you leaned in just a few inches, you could press your lips to his neck…but you didn’t.

Bucky’s eyes wandered, eventually, from the door to your form and his eyes locked longingly on your throat. He craved the feeling of his lips against your pulse, his hands in your hair, and your nails digging into his back. You looked utterly flawless with your fancy dress and perfectly executed hair and make up, but Bucky wanted to mess it up. He ached to smear your lipstick with his mouth and make your hair fall from its updo as he pressed you firmly into his mattress-or up against the nearest wall.

"Hey, we're the only ones not on the dance floor...care to join me?" Bucky asked as he offered you his hand- which you rejected. You didn't want to get on the dance floor with Bucky and risk being distracted from Сидоров. If he started moving toward Torres, the two of you needed to jump into action and being pressed up against Bucky's body while the two of you moved in time to the music would definitely distract you. Just the thought of his hand gripping your waist while his face was millimeters from yours made your mind foggy.

"We're not the only ones," you corrected, "Plus, we can't take our eyes off Сидоров- I know it'll be hard for you, cause he's nowhere near as stunning as me, but-" you snickered as Bucky took another sip of his drink, secretly loving the way you pushed his buttons. He huffed dramatically and swirled his whiskey in his glass, wishing he could join Torres in Сидоров's office.

A tall, broad security guard crossed with a purpose toward the arms dealer, making your heart race. "Hey- ten o'clock," you whispered, "He knows about Torres- he's going to tell Сидоров. We're fucked". Bucky shook his head and tried to offer you a rebuttal, but you spoke over him, "we need a distraction". Bucky whipped his head around and shot you a sharp shake of his head, but you weren't having it. "Buck, we need a distraction. I'm gonna go over there and-" you tried to say, but Bucky grabbed your upper arm and held you in place.

"No, you're not going over there. You're not going anywhere near him- it's way too dangerous," he growled, "you know how he is with women". Bucky's concern for you was sweet, but you knew Torres's life was on the line if he were to be discovered, so you made a sacrifice. With a harsh jolt of your arm, you wriggled out of Bucky's grip and snaked your way through the crowd of partygoers.

As soon as you broke through the sea of guests, your eyes locked with Сидоров's. His steely gray eyes raked over your form, taking in your tight black dress that hugged every curve in just the right way. He was notoriously handsy and well-known for his "use, abuse, lose' treatment of women, meaning you were the perfect distraction. He put a finger up to his security guard and strode confidently over to you, unable to resist a beautiful woman.

"прекрасный..." he murmured as his hands roughly encircled your waist and immediately pulled you into his body, sending an unpleasant shiver up your spine. Bucky watched on helplessly as Сидоров's greedy hands dragged you onto the dance floor and roamed over your body with abandon; he wanted nothing more than to kill the cocky so of a bitch in the middle of his own party for as much as touching you. His attention didn't leave your form for even a second and he forgot about Torres and the intel altogether. He'd sabotage the mission completely if it meant keeping you safe.

You made quiet conversation with Сидоров as he kept you in his grasp, laughing at his jokes and flirting with him as intensely as you possibly could. He remained distracted by the smooth curves of your body and the curious burning behind your eyes, granting Torres plenty of time to get the job done. When he leaned in to kiss you, you couldn't recoil, and allowed him to press his lips to yours. It was the definition of unpleasant but you were in too deep, and kissing him back was the only option.

The sight stirred up a previously untapped rage in Bucky, and if he hadn't restrained himself, he surely would've crushed his whiskey glass into a fine powder. Every time Сидоров broke eye contact with you- usually to stare down your dress- you flicked your eyes to the door in search of Torres, but he failed to appear. As the time ticked by, your dance partner became all too entranced by you and lost all interest in his party.

"Come with me...," he commanded in a thick accent as he released his grip on your waist and led you by the hand toward the back staircase. This hadn't been part of your thought process when you'd resolved to distract Сидоров, but now it was too late. Very real fear seeped into your chest and you felt your blood run cold as you imagined what the rest of your night looked like. Your mind kicked into overdrive as you worked to steel yourself against the nightmare that was going to unfold once Сидоров got you alone.

Bucky's heart stopped as he watched you climb the steps and before he knew it, he was pushing through the crowd in your direction. He didn't have a plan, but he couldn't let Сидоров get you alone in his bedroom after all the stories he'd heard of women going 'missing' after a night or two with the man.

"Sweetheart!" Bucky called obnoxiously, feigning a drunken slurring, "where you goin'?" His voice immediately quelled the racing of your heart, and both you and Сидоров turned in his direction. "That's my WIFE, man!" Bucky continued, "Baby, I'm sorrrrrry, don't go runnin' off with him!" You stifled a giggle at Bucky's convincing performance and assumed the role of his vengeful wife with pleasure, "don't get started with me! I saw you grab that waitress's ass!"

He let out a loud huff and rolled his eyes, throwing Сидоров a 'bitches be crazy' kind of look, "Woah, woah, gorgeous- I didn't grab anybody's anything! I have no idea what you're talkin' about!" Bucky's Brooklyn accent peaked through just a little more than usual as he put on a tipsy demeanor, making you smile to yourself. "Don't act all innocent!" you yelled, "I can't believe you would-"

A firm hand wrapped around your upper arm, and you realized that Сидоров had called security on both you and Bucky for making a scene. As the guards were escorting the two of you out of the room and into the hall, you finally felt your heart rate begin to slow- never in your life had you been so relieved to be forcibly removed from a party by armed guards. Сидоров's henchmen left the two of you in the foyer and told you to work it out or leave before turning around and heading back into the party.

Before you could catch your breath, Bucky was puling you through a random door and into a quiet room. When he flipped on the lights, Сидоров's large library full of quite possibly every book in the world was revealed to you. "What the hell were you thinking? I told you it was too dangerous" he snarled, his eyes burning with rage and something that resembled fear. "But I distracted him, didn't I?" you retorted with a quirk of your brow, sending Bucky into an eye roll. He wanted to scream at you, to yell, to take you in his hands and shake some sense into you- but he didn't.

Instead, he kissed you hungrily, sucking the breath from your lungs. "Do you have any idea how- were you trying to make me jealous?" he asked when he finally pulled away. The combination of his desperate kiss and mention of jealousy sent you into a dizzying storm of confusion and shock, rendering you unable to form sentences. "I...no. I- I was distracting-" you stammered. Bucky let out a dark laugh and nodded sarcastically at your failed argument, "yeah, you were distracting me, all right". Anxiety and anger pushed Bucky into a fit of nervous pacing as you tried to work out what he was talking about.

"Okay, wait- why were you jealous?" you finally managed to get out. Your words were enough to make Bucky stop pacing and he stared at you completely deadpan, unable to believe that you could be such a fantastic agent while also being so completely oblivious to his feelings for you. "My god, doll. I've had the biggest fucking crush on you- ever since your joined the team. Everyone knows- even Torres" he stated matter-of-factly, "you didn't know that...?"

You shook your head innocently and wondered how you could've mistaken Bucky's every kind word and not-so-subtle hint as simple platonic gestures. "I'm so angry at you, doll," he muttered quietly, "you put your life in danger without even thinking. I'm not okay with that...you can't just put yourself at risk for the sake of a mission!" The unique combination of fear for your wellbeing and anger at the disregard for your own safety had Bucky riled up. He stared you down with a fervent desperation to hold you, claim you- teach you a lesson.

You weren't sure if the burning in Bucky's eyes scared you or made you want to inch closer to him, but you didn't have the opportunity to the decide. His lips were suddenly on yours once more and you moaned into his mouth as your hands grabbed greedily at his hair. The growing desire you'd held for him all these months was finally being unleashed, and it felt like you could breathe now that his mouth was pressed against yours. He backed you against a wall, locking you in place with his hands around your hips. It took no time at all for you to feel the fabric of your underwear becoming slick with arousal and it was only made worse when the sensation of Bucky's hardened cock pressed up against you.

He was going to take you right there, hard and fast in the mansion of one of the world's most dangerous and notorious criminals, and you weren't complaining. His strong hands grabbed at the fabric of your dress and yanked it up over your hips, giving him almost direct access. His gloved, metal hand easily ripped your thong into pieces, and you watched him shove the ruined piece of fabric into his pocket. Your hands made quick work of his belt, button, and fly, eagerly slipping his tuxedo pants down his hips.

"Really, Barnes? You went commando in a fucking tuxedo...?" you teased. He swiftly grabbed your wrists and pinned them against the wall on either side of your hips, quirking a brow at you, "Complaining, sweetheart?" he retorted. You opened your mouth to give him more attitude, but the words were stopped in your throat by Bucky lifting one of your legs and wrapping it around his hips, pushing his cock into you without warning. The burning stretch was somehow unpleasant and sickeningly pleasurable at the exact same time.

"Fuuuuuck, Barnes..." you moaned as you let your head fall against his shoulder. His large, strong hands gripped your hip and thigh, holding you in place so he could punishingly pound into you. "Don't ever- don't ever do that to me again", Bucky muttered as he continued to fuck you silly. Your hands found his hair and tugged on it with abandon, sending white hot ecstasy throughout Bucky's body. You'd been trying to contain your moans, but with Bucky relentlessly attacking your sweet spot with each thrust, it became impossible. The repetitive thud of your body being slammed against the wall was impossible to hide, but there was no way anyone could hear it over the roar of the party.

Your vision began to get fuzzy as Bucky once again plunged deep into you, applying as much pressure as he possibly could against your g-spot. It was a dizzying sensation that buckled your knees and would've sent you falling to the floor if it hadn't been for Bucky's strong arms. He watched as your chest rose and fell ever quicker, knowing you were close to coming for him and putting his own release in sight. Your breath became trapped in your chest and your heart hammered against your ribs as your orgasm took hold of you completely. He let out a low growl as he followed right behind you, still thrusting into you as he reached his high.

The two of you remained locked together as you caught your breath, a small snicker falling from your lips. "Wow...didn't expect that," you joked, eliciting a playful eye roll from Bucky. He gently placed your leg back down on the floor and made sure you were steady before taking your destroyed underwear from his pocket and wiping away his cum from your thigh. "Well maybe don't put your life in the hands of an international arms dealer next time," he quipped. Your hands found the lapels of his jacket and gripped them tight, using them to pull him closer to you, "No, no, if this is what I get for putting myself in danger, I'm about to start taking waaaaaay more risks".

His face took on an air of seriousness at your statement and his eyes burned with anguish. "Please- don't," he murmured, "I know you're kidding, but...you're too important. Can't lose you, sweets." Your playful expression faded into one of sincerity as you placed a hand on his cheek. "I'm sorry, Buck. I'll be careful-I promise," you whispered.. He nodded and firmly pressed his lips to yours, wanting to keep you within his protective grasp forever. "And you know", you said as you pulled away, "I have a fucking massive crush on you. You crush me, Barnes." Shock splashed across his face at your words, making laughter erupt from your lips, "guess I'm not the only oblivious one..."

The two of you stood close together, softly kissing against the wall until Bucky's phone began to buzz. "Torres, what's the update?" he asked as he finally remembered that there was actually a mission in progress. Bucky hung up after a few moments and turned back to you, offering you his hand, "He's in the foyer. Let's get out of here".

The two of you emerged from the library and saw Torres waiting anxiously by the front door. He examined you and Bucky, noticing your mussed hair, smudged make up, and crooked gait paired with the lipstick staining Bucky's collar and mouth. "Um...hey, guys", he said awkwardly, "soooo I guess it was you two who were angry fucking in there?"

"Don't know what you're talking about", Bucky retorted as he took your hand in his. Stifling your laughter, you gave Bucky's hand a squeeze and continued walking toward the door, mentally claiming the mission as a success.

[storiesofsvu]

A Redemption Earned Ch 1

No official pairing yet. Future Heather Dunbar x reader. Jackie Sharp x OC (Nat). Past Heather Dunbar x OC (Nat) Warnings: language, mentions of past bad behavior, alcohol consumption, an angsty flashback. (The faceclaim/other girl in pics is Becca, for reference).

Returning to D.C had always been something on Heather’s ‘to do’ list, but it was still something she felt massively unprepared for. She’d attempted a return nearly five years ago, but things simply hadn’t worked out, she wasn’t ready, hadn’t done enough work, so she relocated once again. But now, a case had come up, one that required someone with her experience and skill set, even being in the family law jurisdiction, she was the one everyone wanted on it. She hadn’t been far, the drive into Washington not taking that long, but she’d been thrown right into things. Her office was far from leased, much less set up, she’d be opening her own firm branch, a sister branch to the one she’d been at these past five years, but in her familiar Washington territory. Which meant it had to be a prime location, have enough space for multiple attorneys and up to her expectations if she was heading it.

All of that considered, and that she was freshly back in the city, she was living out of an Airbnb at the moment. It was at least a suite so she was able to set up a mock office there for working through the case and trying to pull in other business and do whatever else she needed. However, it wasn’t in the state to want a client in there, things were a little bit of a hectic disaster. She was still trying to figure out if she was even going to start up the firm and move back to Maryland, or if she would be able to stay in D.C this time, everything was still a little up in the air, but right now her focus was this case, and meeting with her client.

Which is how Heather found herself walking from the car and around the corner to The Capital Grille. It was fine dining, proving both that she was worth the rate she was charging, and that her client wasn’t about to shy away from something on the fancier end. It was also a near half hour drive away from The White House, far from capitol hill, and out of territory that she figured she’d run into anyone who had the potential and desire to humiliate her. It was simple enough to check in at the hostess stand, she only had to wait a few moments for someone to come up to her and say her table was ready and to follow them. Her phone buzzed, pulling her attention and gaze down to it as she followed the host, winding through the restaurant.

*

“Oh come on!” Becca exclaimed, swatting her hand across the table to her father, “you know I’m right!” A wide smile was on her cheeks as he nodded, his laugh growing louder through the grille.

Beside Becca, Nat rolled her eyes, a laugh still echoing on her cheeks as she shook her head, taking the time to glance away from her best friend as movement through the restaurant caught her eye. The laugh stopped, and her eyes widened, her hand darting out to clasp around Becca’s wrist, pulling her attention from teasing her dad.

“Oh my god.”

“What?” Becca asked, her brow furrowing as she followed Nat’s sightline, “fuck!” She whispered.

“Did you know she was back?”

“How the fuck would I know that?”

“She sends you holiday cards?” Nat suggested, their whispers getting more frantic and quieter as Heather got closer, “not to mention she’s your mother.”   

“I only opened them to make sure I wasn’t burning money!” She hissed back.

Across the table from Tasha, Rob’s laughter paused, a brow raised at the two girls, “I’m assuming I shouldn’t turn around right now?”

“Not if we don’t want her to know we’re talking about her.” Nat murmured.

“Think it’s a little late for that.” Becca picked up her glass, muttering into it as she tried not to look over at her mother as she was presented with a table.

*

Halfway through the dining room Heather froze, first stumbling in her steps then full-on stalling. That laugh. She knew it. And there was absolutely no doubt where she knew it from.

Twenty-nine years of marriage would do that to a person.

She said a silent prayer, then glanced up from her phone, searching for the direction Rob’s laugh came from, hoping it was a work thing, or even better, that he was alone. She wasn’t entirely sure how things would progress if he happened to be on a date. It didn’t take long to find the table, Becca was deep into a now hushed conversation, Natasha sitting beside her. Of fucking course Nat had to be there too, running into one ex wasn’t karma enough, she needed to run into her ex-sugar baby too. The one who had somehow ended up a part of her family while she was basically banished.

The hostess suddenly spoke, dragging her attention away from the table, the one they were seating her at a mere one table over from. She flashed them a small smile, waving them away before they could try and ramble on about specials and drink features. She dared a glance over to the table filled with people from her old life and this time accidentally caught Rob’s eye, who, rather than glancing away, gave her a warm smile and a nod of the head that she returned. A brief glance around the table and she was met with a professionally polite smile from Nat, no doubt perfected from her five years as the VP’s chief of staff, and an awkward look from Becca.

Heather settled herself on the side of her table that the girls were at, knowing if she accidentally caught eyes with anyone again, Rob was the best bet. She pulled out the case file, making sure her phone was on the table in case she got any work calls, and was quick to order a glass of wine when the server came by. It wasn’t often that she drank anymore, but all things considered. She needed some sort of buffer.

*

“You haven’t heard from her?” Becca’s hushed voice asked Nat who shook her head, “I mean, you were the one who never actually blocked her number?”

“Yeah, but once she found out Jackie was a legit thing, she backed off, disappeared aside from that one run in like, five years ago when I picked up a shift at Salt Line.”

“And like, nothing? No texts? No her creeping your social media or anything?”

“Girls…” Rob nearly chuckled, “this is starting to sound like a teen drama on showtime…”

“Sorry.” Nat murmured, sitting back in her chair, “just…really unexpected. Wait…have you heard from her?”

“No.” He sighed, pausing for a drink, “a couple of relatives called when my dad passed, but that was it. I get the same cards as Becca does. She’s probably back for legal work, who knows if she’s staying, but I think it’s best if we all remain polite and friendly. It’s not like either party searched out the other, it was a by the chance run in.”

“Yeah…” the two younger girls replied, thankful for the distraction of appetizers arriving, having something to focus on aside from Heather ten feet away from them.

It wasn’t that anyone was particularly angry at the other anymore, it had been six years since everything blew up. The table of three only had to look at Heather to know that either things had changed, or she was at least appearing that things had. She looked more modest, still properly put together, but less attention grabbing than all those years prior. Before everything went to shit, she would’ve marched right up to the table, been full of remarks and come on too strong.

Instead, she smiled softly, and settled in at her own table, distracting herself with the menu as she tried to forget that night all those years ago….

**

The door slammed shut behind her, the noise echoing through the vastly empty and trashed house. Heather had tried everything she could, Becca wanted nothing to do with her for nearly a decade already, and now Rob had blocked her number. The man who made a vow to be with her til death, the one she thought no matter what happened, would be by her side, had turned his back completely.

Although…. all of that was one hundred percent her fault, and she had no one to blame but herself. At least she realized that much right now.

She thought she had one last resource, that maybe, just maybe, Nat would crumple, would see how far Heather had fallen from grace, and rethink saying no. She knew Natasha had enjoyed their time together, that it had been hard for her to cut Heather off at first, there was something there still, making the girl drift back towards her. But when Heather had shown up at her apartment that night, she was blindsided by Jackie. It wasn’t just Jackie being there, she’d been prepared for that, their relationship was all over the tabloids already, but that’s all she thought it was. A media relationship, not one where Nat actually loved Jackie…one that would send Heather packing.

Heather dumped everything by the front door, kicking out of her shoes, her phone managing to stay in her hand as she moved through the eerily empty house. Tears were already blurring her eyes, the self hatred burning through her. Then she tripped over something, swearing loudly, a frustrated ‘FUCK’ yelled through the house. As she glanced back and down to what was in the way, and a choked sob bounced off the walls, a pair of Jordan’s shoes strewn on the floor carelessly.

It was something that she’d normally grumble over, yelling out to her son to try and fucking pick up after himself. She’d usually toss them back towards the welcome mat, or the bottom of the stairs for him to put away himself. Tonight, instead, she was reminded that he was gone forever. And not in the way everyone else was. She still had a chance at hopefully getting her family, friends and career back, but Jordan was dead. And she was slowly realizing that it really was because of her, the way she’d let him do whatever he wanted, how she’d shoved his wrong doings under the rug and made sure he was never responsible for them. She’d never see her son again, only a slab of stone in a windy field, and that was probably the closest thing to family she would have for years, if not ever.

Heather absolutely hated herself that night, everything about her was a fucking joke, and it was all because of her. She managed to grab the bottle of scotch from the liquor cabinet before she dropped to the kitchen floor, tears taking over her face, blurring her vision completely. Large gulps of amber liquid burning its way down her throat as she tried to forget. She’d been on track for one of the best political careers in the last fifty years, and everything had come crashing down. Because she wasn’t able to stay faithful to her husband, she had to be the one seeking out young and vulnerable girls to take advantage of. She actually had a decent chance of becoming president of the United States until her secrets and dirty laundry were aired for the entire world to see. Then again, it was her fault that her husband found out about the affairs, it was her fault that she physically assaulted Natasha, and once on camera.

She choked back another cry, her hand coming to cover her face, attempting to wipe away a few tears before taking a swig of scotch. She wished she could take it back, that at least she could have controlled herself in public, that the arguments could have waited until they were private. Nat had nothing to do with Jordan’s death, she was simply protective of Becca and stepped in at the worst moment. Not that Heather wanted to hit her daughter, she was caught up in months of emotions she hadn’t been able to process. But right now, she was still mad, and as much as she knew it was her fault, part of her still blamed everyone else.

Heather hated that the sun was still up, she felt like the way she was feeling deserved darkness, but the world was still awake, and she hated it. Grabbing a paper napkin from the counter she wiped at her face, blowing her nose before taking another large swig of scotch. Taking a heavy breath, she thought about what she still had, what she could look forward to, how she could move on. Her law licence was still active, it had to have been while she was solicitor general, and she’d kept it after that to help out friends whenever needed. She would have to fall back on that the next few years and try to keep her political law career afloat while she herself tried not to drown. That thought calmed her a little bit, reminding herself that she had something to fall back on.

As the sun began to sink in the sky, and the scotch moved through her body, she thought about calling her mother. She’d only left that morning, but always seemed to know what to say and do, she’d been the only one helping Heather through the funeral process, through the process of losing her son. With a heavy sniffle, and the desire of some kind of comfort, Heather reached out, picking up her phone. Though that was then she noticed a handful of notifications via email and a couple of other apps, a text from an old partner at her old firm before she moved up.

‘I know things are shit, but check your email’

‘Heather…I’m so sorry, especially if rumours are true….’

“What?” She muttered, taking another swig of scotch before flipping to her email app. A dramatic gasp leaving her lips when she found it.

She wasn’t being called before the bar, they’d already made their decision. She’d violated a very heavy rule when she, as a prosecutor had made Jordan’s DUI disappear. Not to mention the other shady legal shit she’d secretly done over the years. Her fall-back plan was gone. She no longer had a law licence, for a year at least.

She’d really done it…she quite literally had nothing left.

“FUCK!” Heather shouted, her phone wasn’t just thrown, but plummeted across the room, smashing into the glass door hard enough to crack both it and the phone screen. Her life was fucking over.

She convulsed into sobs, something she never thought she even could, she hadn’t felt this much emotion in years. Which, made it all worse, she yelled, screamed, sobbed….for hours, wishing she had someone to turn to, but knew there was nothing.

It was only hours later, her body completely exhausted, the bottle of scotch now empty that she sniffled, glancing up around the room. Her head tilted at the sight of a folded card under the island, wondering if it was something she’d dropped, or a weed dealer of Jordan’s she shifted forward, pulling the card out. She couldn’t help but laugh at the card reveal. It was the one that Rob had left with her a few weeks after serving her with divorce papers. It had multiple names and phone numbers on it, therapists and psychiatrists, ones that he thought could help her.

She nearly crumpled it, wanting to toss it down the garburator and pretend it never existed. But Natasha’s voice rang through her brain,

“Heather…please…talk to someone…you need it…”

The card turned over in her hands a few times, blurred by her tears before she let out a small huff, figuring if that many people thought therapy was right, maybe she should stop listening to her mother and those who made more sense.

She cried herself to sleep that night.

And the next morning set up an appointment with a therapist, and a following two days to clean out the house before her real estate agent showed up so that she could rent the place out in the meantime.  She may have been broken and had no idea were to go or what to do, but she knew a change was needed, and there were plenty more to come.

**

Becca, Rob and Tasha were working their way through their meal, appetizers finished, drinks refilled, doing their best to not look over to Heather’s table too much, or talk about her in order to give her privacy.

Heather on the other hand was still working through her case file, trying to have as much organized as possible before her client showed up. Right as she closed the file, taking a sip of wine, her phone pinged and upon reading it, she let out a frustrated groan. It was right as her server had come around, so she asked for the bill to be settled, it was only when the young man asked if he wanted her entrée to go or to be scrapped that a voice rang out from beside her.

“She can join us.” Rob offered, only after looking at the girls who nodded. Heather’s brow furrowed, her head tilting as she looked at the table,

“Are…you sure?” her gaze moved through all three of them who nodded and gave their approval before she stood.

Trying not to be awkward, she picked up her glass of wine, moving over to the table, taking a place beside Rob and across from Becca.

“Thanks…”

“Just because you got stood up doesn’t mean you should have to miss out on enjoying a nice meal.” Rob commented quietly and Heather scoffed a laugh.

“I was meeting a client!” she sucked back some wine, “dating is the last thing on my mind right now.”

“So… you are back?” Becca asked cautiously, digging into her food as a distraction.

“For now, yes.” She let out a soft sigh, “I picked up a case in this jurisdiction, and the sister firm in Baltimore I’ve been working for wants me to head an office out here. Somehow the Dunbar name still holds some positive meaning and they think it would be a good idea.”

“Are you still family law?” Nat asked over a bite of her meal and Heather nodded.

“Strictly. As much as I would love to dip back into the waters of political law, I know it’s not a good idea, and honestly, I really do enjoy the work I’m doing now.” She was pleasantly surprised with how open the younger woman seemed to be with her, all things considered, she’d figured she would have gotten the cold shoulder, then again, Nat had five years of political bullshit under her belt now. There was no doubt she could fake her way through an uncomfortable situation. Either way, it was helping to calm the fluttering in her chest. “I’m kind of surprised you can even be here?” she raised a brow and Nat nodded her head to the left,

“Secret service is three tables over.”

“Ah.” Heather glanced over, now noticing the hidden in plain sight officers, her gaze then drifting over the rest of the table, landing on Becca this time, “what’s with the side eye?” she asked softly and Becca nearly snorted.

“Maybe because the last time the four of us were all together you punched someone in the face.”  

“Becca!” Rob chastised as Nat blushed, her eyes darting down to her food in an attempt to avoid the subject entirely. Heather felt her chest tighten, letting out a small sigh as she glanced over towards Nat,

“And I will never be able to apologize enough for that Natasha.”

“Ooohh!” the younger woman practically gasped, and Heather flinched that it sounded like disgust, “please, the only person that calls me Natasha is Underwood.”

“I…figured Nat was too personal, and the last thing I want is to impose.”

“Just…” the younger woman shrugged, “go with Tasha, a happy middle ground.” She took a sip of her drink, “and…the rest of that… is a conversation for another time.”

“Of course.” Heather nodded, letting out a sigh of relief at the knowledge that that door was open for communication, and that hopefully she would be able to show that she wasn’t the same person who had hurt Nat those years ago. A buzzing vibrated against the table and Tasha was quickly distracted with her phone,

“Fuck…” she muttered, “I’ve got to go.”

“Oh c’mon, just pretend you never got it!” Becca protested, partially not wanting to be left alone with just family.

“I can’t exactly ignore the Oval Becks.” She replied, beginning to gather her things, pressing a kiss to the top of the girl’s head before turning to Rob, “thanks for lunch. It’s on us next time.”

“Friday, right?”

“Yeah.” She turned back to Becca, “you’ll be there?”

“Yes.”

“And uh…” She glanced to Heather, “I’ll…get in touch, maybe? I’ll need to talk to Jackie...”

“The ball will always be left in your court.” Heather assured, giving her a soft smile.

“Thank you.” With a smile returned, and a small wave to the table, Natasha whisked from the restaurant.

There was a bit of an awkward pause, family now left with only each other as the waitress came by to refill waters. Heather’s shoulders slumped at the way Becca was stabbing at her pasta, she knew that this wasn’t going to be easy, she wasn’t going to be welcomed back with open arms. And for it to be sprung on all of them out of nowhere certainly wasn’t helping. She couldn’t help watching Becca, examining how much she’d grown up, a pang of guilt shooting through her. She’d missed so much of her children’s lives already, leaving the help to raise them and then shipping them off to boarding school, now she’d missed the last six years because she’d fucked everything up. There was no opportunity to watch Jordan grow anymore, and Heather made a silent vow to herself in that moment that as long as Becca wanted it, she wanted to be a part of her daughter’s life again, and this time a real part. She watched Becca let out a heavy sigh, dropping back in her chair and taking a hefty swig of her cocktail.

“I hope you know that I truly am sorry about how I treated you, both of you, and about everything.” Heather spoke quietly, her voice much softer than the other two were used to hearing it. It was a surprise for both of the adults when it was Becca who replied first, her gaze still trained on her drink as her straw stabbed at the ice cubes.

“I know.”

“But…” Heather started, wondering where this was coming from, and why she hadn’t heard it earlier. Becca let out another little sigh, leaning forward against the table.

“When you first started sending cards it was the same old bullshit, a wad of cash or way too large cheque, half the time the only actual handwritten thing was your signature, or your initials. I gave all the money to dad to help fund his research grant. Then a couple of years ago there was a shift, you actually wrote little messages, and I could tell it was you, not some assistant spewing off generalized bullshit. Then Gramma called me out of the blue all pissy in a huff that you weren’t returning her phone calls anymore, it was clear you’d cut her off. You also kept your promise and never reached out to Nat, which…honestly…I thought you’d be hounding her for years, even with Jackie around.”

“That was it?” Heather asked quietly and Becca shook her head.

“Last year on my birthday you wrote a full-page letter, and signed the card ‘Love, Mom’.” Becca glanced up across the table and Heather could see the starting of a misting of tears in her eyes, “you hadn’t told me you loved me since my thirteenth birthday….”

“Oh god…” Heather’s hand flew to her mouth, “I didn’t….I didn’t even realize…”

“Yeah…there was a lot you didn’t even realize you were doing. I read that letter like, twelve times. It kinda felt like I actually had a mom for once.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” She huffed lightly once again, “and there’s part of me that does accept your apology, at least for that.”

“I was an absolutely terrible mother. Looking back there were so many things I wish I had never done. I wish I was more involved in your lives, that I actually carved out the time that you needed from me. I’m hoping that you’ll give me a chance now? I’d really like to get to know you again. The real you.”

Becca glanced between her parents, lingering more on her father, hoping for some guidance. She knew that Heather had definitely improved, and that she’d been working on herself, she could tell that based on the letters, and her behaviour today. Rob gave the tiniest nod of assurance that he trusted her to do the right thing and Becca’s gaze moved back to Heather.

“Yeah… that could be nice.”

“Thank you.” Heather did the best to breathe in the tear of relief that was threatening to fall, “there’s a…luncheon, mixer, thing they’re hosting next week that I’ve been invited to. If you’re free, maybe you could join me?”

“Eww, one of those stuffy gala things?”

“No.” She laughed this time, “it’s much more casual. I’m sure they’d even be fine if you showed up in jeans.”

“How would you know; you don’t own any jeans.” Becca teased with a small grin on her face and Heather playfully rolled her eyes, watching the way Becca’s eyes narrowed slightly, seemingly examining her.

“What?”

“Nothing.” The girl replied, taking a sip of her drink, “I’m just trying to figure out if those are blonde highlights or if you’re going grey.” Heather let out a slightly offended scoff, but it was accompanied by a laugh.

“It’s....blonde highlights….to cover up the grey…” she murmured into the rim of her glass, causing Becca and Rob to chuckle.

“You’re making progress. You would’ve bitten my head off for something like that before.”

“I’m doing as much as I can. Believe me.”

“I do.”

It was for the second time that meal that a phone went off, buzzing on the table top and Heather let out a soft sigh, folding her napkin onto her plate.

“If I don’t get going I’m going to miss this next meeting.” She pushed back her chair, surveying the other two, “thank you, for letting me join today. I hope I get to see you again soon.”

“Oh”—Becca’s hand darted across the table, snatching her mom’s phone. Practically a ploy to see if Heather would snatch it back or get defensive about Becca potentially going through her private phone. Heather instead said nothing, watching as the girl scrolled through a few things, typed something in and then handed it back to her, “text me…about that luncheon thing. Could be fun.” She shrugged and Heather smiled softly at the two of them.

“It could. I’ll see you around.” With another wave to the two and a quick goodbye, she left the restaurant. Back at the table, Rob turned back to his daughter, a curious expression on his face.

“Well?”

“She didn’t insist on picking up the cheque.” She offered and he laughed.

“Moving in the right direction.”

“One step at a time….”

___________________ @ms-calhoun @naturalxselection @yesterdaysgone @hbkpop @giftedchildturns40 @anya-casablanca @svulife-rl @borg-queer @swimmingstudentchaos891 @alexusonfire @jamiethetrans @natasha-danvers @oliviaswifeyy @mysticfalls01 @cmmndrwidw @bumblebear30 @svushots @yourtaletotell @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @ex-uallyactive @addictedtodinosaurs @imaginaryoperagloves @multifandomlesbianic @annegilletteslostwh0r3 @drduckthief @whimsicallymad @mmmmokdok @ladysc @momlifebehard @mmemalwa @holycrapraewth @poisonedcrowns @wannabe-fic-reader @when-wolves-howl @dead-of-niight @fighterkimburgess @lannister-slings-and-arrows

[babyboibucky]

Salt, Sugar and Viruses

Pairing: Office!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’ve been secretly making coffee for Bucky at the office.

Word Count: 1,962

Warnings: Two idiots just doing idiot things

A/N: This was done in a haste so I kinda hate it lol but I can’t get this story out of my head and thanks to @bitchassbucky for pushing me to write a full fic of this 🥰 luv u 🥺

MAIN MASTERLIST

"You have a crush on Barnes' grumpy ass?!" Sam choked out.

You angrily hushed him and frantically looked around the pantry to make sure that your secret was still safe. Fortunately, only you, Sam and Nat were inside having your respective afternoon breaks.

"What? He's nice. And cute." you told Sam as you stirred your coffee, smiling to yourself at the thought of your office crush, Bucky.

"How'd you even meet him, he works all the way at the IT department." Sam asked.

Nat snorted recalling the encounters she witnessed for the past few months. Some of which were unintentional but most of them? You had carefully planned out just so you could come up with an excuse to request for Bucky's assistance.

"She might have gotten viruses in her computer once...or twice. Or thrice." Nat teased.

The first time you met Bucky was when most of your files suddenly got corrupted. It was hella embarrassing because you didn't know shit about how computers worked and well, you've been illegally downloading torrents since the office's internet connection was a gift from the internet gods. Without a doubt, your computer was a nest for viruses.

Bucky showed up in your floor that morning and you almost sunk into your seat from shame. You'd heard the IT Department complain about everybody else in the office messing up their computer systems. When you turned around, Bucky greeted you with a charming smile and soft hello. You could still remember how he felt when he stayed behind you as you sat on your chair, bending over to take your mouse in his hand.

God, he smelled so good you almost turned your head to nuzzle your face into his neck.

He was very soft-spoken you realized; Bucky was kind enough to walk you through the process and to be honest, you couldn't recall a damn thing he said. Something about firewalls? And shields? Whatever, you didn't really listen. You just stared at Bucky as he explained everything, solving your problem in less than fifteen minutes.

Since then, your crush for Bucky grew bigger. You'd entered the elevator together a couple of times, shared small conversations that made your heart flutter. When those little moments didn't seem enough, you started your devious plan to fuck up your computer a bit. By the third time Bucky fixed your computer, he was already comfortable enough to tease you for being a "virus magnet".

"Hello? Young lady, come back to earth." Sam snapped his finger right in front of your face, interrupting your thoughts.

You clicked your tongue at him and swatted his hand away. "If you ever tell this to anyone, Wilson. You are dead." you warned, poinitng a finger at him.

Sam rolled his eyes, "It's so unfair how he's kind to you. Last time I requested for his assistance he got all smug and grumpy at me." he complained.

Nat shook her head in amusment, "That's because you've been downloading porn. You know the IT department can access our browser histories, right?"

You choked on your coffe, "WHAT?!"

Nat narrowed her eyes at you, "You been up to no good for you to react like that?"

You faceplamed, "I've been stalking his Facebook account."

Sam chortled, "What are you, in high school? Jesus, calm down. You're gonna be fine. Why don't you just tell him you like him?"

You made a face, "I'm not Nat to have the guts to do that."

Nat hummed, bringing her mug to the sink to wash it. "Why don't you start by making him coffee?"

"I don't know how he likes his coffee."

You received a pointed look from both your friends. You groaned in defeat, "Okay, fine. I know how Bucky likes his coffee."

Nat smirked, "Stalker."

-

Bucky always arrived in the office half an hour before nine in the morning. This gives him time to settle into his cubicle, buy a sandwich at the stall downstairs and to make himself a cup of coffee. It was his daily routine and upon going back to his desk after buying his breakfast sandwich, Bucky was surprised to see a cup of newly brewed coffee on his desk.

He looked around but there were no signs of anyone. There wasn't even a note of some sort. Carefully, he brought the cup to his face and inhaled its scent. Shrugging, he took a tiny sip.

-

"How's the little secret admirer doing?" Nat asked, grabbing a chair and sitting down beside you.

You deadpanned, "I've been leaving him his coffee for an entire week now and nothing's happened yet."

Nat frowned, "Are you kidding me? Why would you expect for something to happen when you haven't been leaving any clues?" she said.

"I'm shy, okay?! Maybe I should hide somewhere, check for his reaction. See whether I have a chance." you shrugged.

It was stupid of you to leave the coffee on Bucky's desk. You never stayed to wait for him. You just left it there without a note or anything that would even give him a clue about you and your little crush on him. You knew the reason why, of course. You were afraid of rejection. Sometimes, you'd feel like you have a chance with him since he was always so kind and warm to you. Not to mention, everyone in the office knows him to be grumpy but around you, he was totally the opposite of that.

But then again, maybe he was just nice to you because you were nice to him too.

-

One morning after leaving Bucky his coffee, you finally decided to leave him a note. You ran back to your cubicle to get a post-it and a pen. Before you could even walk around your desk, you spotted Bucky headed over to the pantry, the cup of coffee in his hand.

"Fuck, okay. Maybe I should just directly ask him out?" you thought to yourself.

You quickly followed Bucky into the pantry and almost whined when you saw that Sam was inside as well. You widened your eyes at him, signalling for him to leave but Sam was preoccupied on observing Bucky who seemed to be in a bad mood.

"Rough morning?" Sam just had to ask as you awkwardly stood by the doorway, finding the right timing to butt in.

Bucky's forehead creased as he let out a huff, "Rough weeks, actually." he answered.

You opened your mouth to say something comforting, wanting to lift Bucky's spirits up but he turned around and glanced at you and then back to Sam.

"Does anyone hate me in this office?" Bucky asked.

You and Sam exchanged looks, both of utter confusion before shaking your heads in unison. "Why'd you ask?" Sam asked.

Bucky lifted the cup of coffee that you made, "Someone's been making me coffee." he stated.

You cleared your throat, "...is it bad?" you asked.

Bucky made a face, "Terrible actually."

Ouch.

"I mean, the first time I saw it I was actually flattered. And then I took a sip and it's just...salty." Bucky said, pouring the coffee into the sink before throwing it into the bin.

Sam's head snapped towards your direction, his face almost red from biting back a laugh. Your face heated up at the realization that you've been putting salt into Bucky's coffee instead of sugar. All this time. You wanted to disappear right then and there. And Sam had to be the one to witness your huge failure.

"I thought it was a mistake since the next day, there was another coffee on my desk. I tried it out and it's still salty. It lasted a week, you guys. And I was dumb enough to keep on tasting it in hopes that it might have been a genuine mistake. But now I'm starting to think that someone hates me that much to fuck my coffee up." Bucky explained, face scrunched up into a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

Sam failed to stifle his laughter and exploded, "Funniest shit I've ever heard." he told Bucky before standing up and making his way to the door where you stood.

Your face was red and if the salt and sugar mishap was already humiliating enough, Sam decided to make things even worse for you.

"You really need to check the labels before pouring shit into his coffee." and with that, Sam gave your shoulder a squeeze before leaving the pantry.

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself. When you opened them, Bucky was staring at you with an expression you couldn't paint.

"Did you...were you the one leaving me coffee?" he asked.

You secretly pinched yourself in the arm to check whether you were just dreaming. Fuck, you hoped you were having a nightmare but the pain that you felt made it clear that you totally fucked up.

You nodded in embarrassment.

"You hate me that much?" Bucky asked in disbelief, as if he was offended that out of all people, it had to be you.

You quickly shook your head, "No, God no! I just...it's because I..." you stammered, trying to find the courage to spit out the words you've been dying to tell Bucky.

Bucky tilted his head, "Because you...?" he urged.

Your hands balled into fists as you let out another deep breath. Bucky probably hates you right now, but whatever. This was your only chance and to hell, you were going to confess.

"Because I like you?"

You didn't think that Bucky's confused look could even turn more...well, confused. But he was looking at you incredulously as though you've grown a second head, or a third head.

"You like me so you decided to put salt in my coffee?" he asked again.

You honestly didn't know who sounded even more stupid now, you or Bucky. Because if he still didn't understand what was going on, he was dense as fuck.

"No!" you explained. "I wanted to make you a decent cup of coffee but I guess I was too careless and didn't realize that I've been putting in salt instead of sugar." you said.

Bucky didn't say anything after that. He just stared at you, but he didn't seem confused anymore. If any, he looked like he was processing the entire situation.

"You like me." he stated again.

Will your embarrassment ever end?!

"Yes, Bucky. And I messed up my chance and you know what? I'm just going to show myself out and leave you alone." you told him and forced a fake grin before attempting to walk out.

A hand gripped your wrist, pulling you back into the pantry. This time, Bucky was the one who looked embarrassed.

"I might have...done something pretty stupid too." he said, avoiding your gaze as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You eyed him suspiciously, "What do you mean?"

"I uhh...I did something to your computer...the day before you requested for my assistance for the first time." Bucky admitted shyly.

It was your turn to get muddled at Bucky's confession. "But why?" you asked.

Bucky offered a shy smile, "Because I've been seeing you around the building and thought you were cute."

And then everything clicked. It was a light bulb moment for the both of you.

"Oh. Ohhh okay. I see." you said before suddenly breaking into laughter.

Bucky joined you and scratched his head, "I guess we're both idiots." he said, placing his hands inside his pockets as he stared at you.

"This went...way more interesting than I thought." you said with a nod.

There was a pause before you decided to speak up, "So, do you want coffee?"

Bucky beamed at you as he nodded, "As long as you'll use sugar this time."

-

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[bxcketbarnes]

Love in the Workplace

fPairing: Gardener!Bucky Barnes x Receptionist!Reader

Words: 4900+

Author's Note: I thought of this idea while staying at our hotel in California and it's the cutest fucking thing in the world. I love this. I hope you guys enjoy it as well! Let me know your thoughts!

"Sarah, I don't need this at seven in the morning," you tell your friend while adjusting your bag on your shoulder. You slam your car door shut, your eyes looking towards the entrance of the hotel.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of the new gardener. "What is it?" Sarah asks you and you clear your throat before tearing your gaze from the man.

"Uh, nothing. I finally see the gardener that the hotel hired," you mention while walking closer to the place. "I gotta go."

Sarah bids you goodbye after telling you to let her know if something happens between the two of you. You shove your phone into your pocket and walk past him, your eyes glancing over his shirtless chest.

His blue eyes meet yours and you give him a shy smile with a wave. "G'Morning," he greets.

"Morning. First day?" You ask the man and a laugh leaves his lips.

"That noticeable?"

You bring your bottom lip between your teeth and shake your head. "Not at all. Just the first time I've seen you. I usually work every morning," you laugh and he smiles down at you.

"I'm Bucky," the brunette introduces and holds out his metal hand. You eye it carefully before smiling up at him. "Sorry, if my arm makes you uncomfortable."

"Oh, no, no. It's a real cool looking arm," you reassure him and Bucky lets out a chuckle.

His blue eyes look down at his vibranium arm after you let go, bringing your hand back down by your side. "Well, thank you. That's the first time I've heard that," Bucky mentions and you bite the inside of your cheek. "Hey, do these hydrangeas look alright?"

You adjust the bag on your shoulder and walk closer to him, inspecting the plants he planted. "They look really good. I love the colors," you tell him, and Bucky smiles while nodding his head.

"Good. Wanna make a good first impression," he explains and you chuckle, laying a hand on his metal arm.

"I'm pretty sure you've already made one if they hired you. The bosses are strict about hiring people."

Bucky runs a hand through his sweaty hair, your eyes raking down his shirtless body. God, he's attractive. You turn your head towards the front door of the hotel before glancing down at your watch, seeing it was almost eight in the morning.

"Well, I would love to stay and chat longer, Buck, but I've got to start my day," you mention and start to walk away from him. "I'll see you around."

The blue-eyed man nods his head and waves slightly. "See you around, doll."

Steve's head picks up when you step through the lobby doors and you smile softly at him. "Morning, Steve," you greet while stepping behind the receptionist desk. "Busy night?"

The blonde shakes his head and stands up from his chair, allowing you to sit down in it. "Not at all. It was extremely dead," Steve laughs and runs a hand through his hair.

You're about to say something when Bucky walks into the building, your eyes dancing over towards him. "Hey, Steve," he greets before his blue eyes meet yours. "Y/N."

A small blush covers your cheeks and you provide a small wave before sitting in the seat. Steve looks down at you, a smirk coming to his lips and you raise a finger before he can say anything.

"Hush!" You laugh and Steve joins in, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I didn't even say anything!" He laughs and you look up at him, narrowing your eyes playfully.

"No, but the smirk on your lips said everything."

Steve gathers his stuff while shaking his head as you sign into the computer. A customer walks up to the counter and you greet them happily as the blonde leans in towards your ear.

"Bucky's a great guy and single if you're interested," he informs you while you're looking up the woman's information, a blush covering your cheek.

You swat at him and another laugh leaves your lips. "Get out of here!" Steve chuckles and raises his hands in defense before leaving the hotel lobby. "I'm so sorry about that."

The woman in front of you waves her hand before mumbling, "it's alright."

"Gotta have fun on the job, am I right?" She grins and you nod your head in agreement, a smile coming to your lips.

-

Two Months Later...

"Tony, I really appreciate you allowing me to stay here until my gas leak gets fixed," you mention to your manager as the man fixes up a room key for you.

The older man smiles down at you and rests a hand on your shoulder. "Kid, I'd do anything for you. You've been with this hotel for years and you're so kind. I couldn't even bring myself to say no," he chuckles and you smile up at him.

"You guys are like my family and I appreciate everything you've done for me," you tell him while Tony hands you the key.

Tony ruffles your hair a bit before walking back towards his office. "Oh, I put you next to Barnes in case you have questions. Plus, I figured you enjoy a familiar face," he winks and you let out a groan.

Of course, he put me next to Bucky. Smug bastard. You gently bite your lip while heading towards the elevator, pressing the button to call it. "Way to be so obvious about your feelings, Y/N," you say to yourself with a sigh, running a hand through your hair.

"Are you talking about your crush on Bucky?" A familiar voice asks you and you jump, placing a hand on your chest before glancing to your left.

Steve and Natasha stand in the archway where the two elevators sit, smirks on both of their lips. "Jesus, you two," you groan as they walk over to you. "What are you doing here?"

Nat ruffles her hair a bit before glancing towards Steve. "Steve and I are going on a date. I'm picking him up," she mentions and a gasp leaves your lips.

"No fucking way?!" Your eyes dance between the two of them and Steve's cheeks blush a bit. "That's incredible. I've only been shipping it for almost six months."

The three of you let out a chuckle before Steve pipes up. "Yeah, well, when are you going to ask out Bucky?"

The laughter dies on your lips and you bring your lip between your teeth. "Shut up," you scoff while rolling your eyes. "I'm not going to ask him out because he doesn't feel that way about me."

Both Steve and Natasha give you a look before the redhead rubs her hands along her face. "Sweetheart, that boy is crushing on you just as hard as you are for him," she mentions and your cheeks flush.

"Go enjoy your date," you tell them before pressing the button to the elevator once more.

The door opens immediately and you step inside, giving your friends one last grin. You press the floor your room is on and watch the elevator doors close before letting out a deep breath.

You adjust your grip on your suitcase and pile out of the elevator when it opens back up. You run into someone, muttering out a quick apology before glancing up at the person. Your breath hitches in your throat as Bucky stands in front of you, his bare torso staring you in the face.

"Bucky," you breathe out and the blue-eyed man glances down at you, "h-hi."

"Hey, doll," Bucky smiles and the two of you stand in the middle of the elevator door.

You swallow thickly as your eyes flicker from his eyes to his chest. "S-Sorry, let me just-" you cut yourself off and move around him, your shoulder brushing against his arm.

"Are you staying here?" The man questions and you look down towards your luggage before nodding your head.

"I, uh, yeah. My apartment has a gas leak, so Tony's letting me stay here for a week or so."

Bucky wets his lips and adjusts the towel in his hands. "I'm going down to the pool for a little bit… would you- would you want to join me?" He asks and your heart beats quickly in your chest.

"Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'll be down in about five minutes," you stutter and give the man a shy smile.

He bites his lip for a few seconds before standing in the elevator, keeping his eyes on you. "Great. I'll see you in a few," Bucky says while the elevator doors shut.

"Yeah…" you trail off as your cheeks blush heavily.

You continue making your way to your hotel room, silently hyping yourself up with each step. You place the keycard into the slot before pushing your way into the room. You set your suitcase onto the bed and open it before grabbing your bikini.

After changing into your swimsuit, you grab a towel from the bathroom along with your keycard before making your way back downstairs. You chew on your bottom lip while walking towards the pool area, seeing Bucky sitting in the hot tub.

You insert your key and open the gate, giving the blue-eyed man a small wave. You set your stuff down beside his before heading towards him. You adjust your red top as Bucky's eyes look you up and down.

"Cute top," he mumbles while draping his arms across the edge of the spa.

"Thank you," you chuckle shyly and sits down across from him. "So, how come you're staying here?"

Bucky lets out a laugh and moves his hands through the bubbly water before rubbing his face. "Well, my ex broke up with me a week ago and I happened to be living in her apartment. Tony let me stay here until I can get my own place," he explains and you frown slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you apologize and Bucky shakes his head, mumbling that it was alright. "But, it was nice of Tony to let you stay here until you're on your feet."

"Yeah, it was. Which room are you in?"

A blush dusts your cheeks and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm next door to you. Tony thought it'd be nice to have a familiar face beside me," you laugh awkwardly while looking away from him.

Bucky smirks at you while wiggling his eyebrows. "This'll be fun. We'll be great neighbors," he grins and you roll your eyes playfully while standing up from your seat.

"Shut up," you tell him with a laugh and Bucky watches you step out of the hot tub.

You feel his eyes on you as you walk closer to the steps of the pool, making eye contact with him as you descend into the cool water. Bucky suddenly gets up and makes his way into the pool, jumping in immediately and you release a quiet squeal.

Bucky swims up to you and you take a couple of steps back as he resurfaces. "Well, that was quite rude," you joke and the man suddenly shakes his head, rouge water droplets hitting you. "Bucky! That's cold!"

He hums in response and splashes you playfully. "Oh, come on, it's warm!"

"It's not!" You squeal some more and take a couple of more steps back. Bucky walks closer to you, reaching his hands out before capturing you in his grasp.

His arms wrap around your waist and Bucky holes you against his chest while carrying you into the deeper area of the pool. You wrap your arms around his neck, your chest pressed against the man's face.

"Well, I can die happy now," Bucky jokes and you smack the back of his head, rolling your eyes at him again.

"You're such a guy," you laugh, attempting to get out of his grasp. "Can you put me down now?"

The blue-eyed man looks up at you through his lashes, your breath hitching in his throat as the pool lights shine on his face. "I quite like you like this," he whispers, and your heart pounds against your chest, feeling your cheeks heat up.

Bucky brings a hand to your face and his fingers graze against your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut while resting your forehead against his. He moves his fingers into your hair, gripping softly while slowly reducing the distance between your lips.

Your lips brush against his when a loud voice calls out to both of you. "Hey! The pool's closed!"

The brunette sighs, feeling his breath fanning your lips before pulling away from you. "Sam, it's just us!" Bucky yells and you glance towards the gate to see the man standing on the other side of it.

"Oh, hey guys!" Sam greets with a smile before opening the gate to the pool. "What are you two doin' out here so late?"

"Just hanging out," you tell him while prying yourself out of Bucky’s grasp. "I need to get going anyway. G'Night, Buck."

"Goodnight, Y/N," he mumbles and watches you walk out of the pool. Sam bids you goodnight as you gather your things before heading into the hotel. "Dude, what the fuck!?"

Bucky moves to smack Sam, causing the younger guy to wince away from him. "What?! She said you guys were hanging out! You're too chickenshit to do anything anyway!"

A sigh leaves his lips and Bucky runs a hand over his face. "Well, I'll have you know that we were just about to kiss," he explains while pushing himself out of the water.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, dude," Sam apologizes and Bucky shakes his head. "Go get her! Don't let me stop you."

The brunette wets his lips before nodding his head, quickly gathering his things before running inside. Bucky finds himself standing outside of her door, bringing his hand up to the wooden structure before knocking loud enough for her to hear.

"Y/N? Y/N?" Bucky calls out and rests his forehead against the door. "Goddamn it."

The door in front of him suddenly opens and Bucky catches himself before falling into your room. "Bucky?" You laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder while your other hand keeps the towel wrapped around you. "What are you doing here?"

His blue eyes widen at the sight of you, feeling his cheeks flush. "I, uh-" he cuts himself off as Bucky begins to rub the back of his neck. "I just wanna say sorry… for uh, what happened in the pool."

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion while leaning against the doorframe. "For what?" You ask him and Bucky's Adam's apple bobs in his throat.

"Just… uh, just in case I made you uncomfortable," Bucky explains and you chuckle softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You didn't make me uncomfortable, Bucky," you giggle and the man lets out a small sigh, nodding his head in reply.

You bite your lip gently as you watch the man in front of you, tapping your fingers against the frame. "Good, good. I'll let you get back to whatever you're doing," he mentions and you nod once before Bucky walks away from you.

"Goodnight, Bucky!" You call out to him, seeing the man give you a small wave before he walks into his hotel room.

Bucky rests his head against the door, a sigh leaving his lips while he quietly curses. He runs his metal hand through his hair when his phone begins to vibrate. Sam's name is flashed across the screen and the man picks it up before answering immediately.

"So?! How'd it go?!" Sam asks and Bucky groans in response, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I- I panicked," he mentions and Sam laughs loudly. "Shut up, Sam."

It takes a minute before Sam finally stops laughing. "I told you that you're too chickenshit, Buck," he reminds Bucky and the blue-eyed man rolls his eyes.

"You know… I hate you," Bucky says before hanging up the phone, tossing it beside him.

-

"So, how did last night go?" Steve suddenly asks you. Natasha smacks his chest and the man lets out a deep yelp. "What?! We were both wondering!"

You look from Steve to Natasha, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you step behind the reception desk. "It was good? I didn't do much so I don't know why you two are asking," you mention while stuffing your work bag in the little compartment.

"Well, we happen to have watched the camera footage of you and Buck in the pool," Natasha explains and your cheeks blush, a groan leaving your lips.

"Oh, fuck off. Of course, that's why y'all are nosy," you sigh while rolling your eyes. "Nothing happened."

Steve gives you a look and you cross your arms over your chest. "Come on. You have to be lying," he argues.

A laugh leaves your lips and you lean back in your chair before crossing your legs over one another. "It's the truth. If Sam didn't interrupt then something might've happened," you smirk and the two run a hand over their faces.

"Fucking Sam," Natasha mutters and leans down to press a kiss on Steve's cheek. "I have to go, but I'll see you later."

You smile at the two, finding them to be extremely adorable together. "I take it that the date went well?" You chuckle and Steve nods his head grazing his fingers along Natasha's hip.

"Very well, thank you," Nat grins and places a hand on your shoulder before walking around the desk. "Now it's your turn. Go after Barnes."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," you laugh while shooing the woman away. The phone on your desk begins to ring and you pick it up. "Hello, how can I help?"

You can hear a bunch of kids yelling in the background before a woman starts talking. "Hi, yes, I would like to file a complaint on your gardener," she says and your lips part slightly, allowing her to continue, "he's standing outside our window in nothing but a pair of shorts and we don't need our children seeing that."

"I totally understand, ma'am," you mumble while rolling your eyes at how ridiculous she sounds. "Here's what I'll do. I'll head out and politely ask him to put his shirt on, okay?"

"I would love that. Thank you so much," the woman states, not giving you a chance to say anything else before hanging up the phone.

You blink a few times, thinking about the interaction that just happened. "What in the fuck?" You ask yourself out loud, Steve humming in response to you. 

"What?"

"I- This woman called and was complaining that Bucky's not wearing a fucking shirt. It's like ninety-five degrees out," you sigh while pushing yourself off of the chair.

Steve lets out a laugh while resting his hand over his chest. You roll your eyes playfully as the blonde practically dies of laughter. "Oh my god, you're serious? What the hell," he breathes out.

"You're telling me. I'll be right back. Gotta tell him to put his shirt on," you inform him while starting to walk out the hotel doors.

You tuck a strand behind your ear as you make your way around the building, looking for Bucky. You round the corner and see him planting some flowers, the man is sitting on his knees while wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Hey, Buck," you greet him and he whips his head towards you, a smile coming to his lips.

"Hiya, doll. What do I owe the pleasure?" Bucky laughs and you glance up to see the woman who called the front desk staring at the two of you.

Bucky looks up at you again after not hearing anything, seeing your eyes looking above you. "Uhm, she called the front desk and complained about you working without a shirt on," you explain to him.

"You're joking?" He asks and you shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's fucking hot out here. Does she expect me to wear a shirt?"

"Well, I told her I would come out here and politely ask you to put it on," you sigh and Bucky cranes his neck, his own sigh leaving his lips. "Just keep it on until you leave this area, please? I really don't want to have to file a complaint about this. She's just being ridiculous."

"Okay, I will," Bucky mentions while grabbing the shirt that sits on the sidewalk, throwing it over his head. You give him a small smile and pat his chest before starting to walk back towards the entrance. "Hey, Y/N?"

You stop in your tracks and glance over your shoulder, seeing a smile on the man's lips. "Yeah?" You ask softly and Bucky walks over to you, his blue eyes casting down at you.

"Are… Do you want to do something tonight?" He asks and you can feel your cheeks heat up. "If you're up for it anyway."

A smile comes to your lips as you tangle your fingers, walking closer to him. "I can see if I can free up my schedule," you joke with a playful wink, causing the man to laugh in response.

Bucky wets his lips and rests his hands on his hips before shaking his head. "Well, if it does you know where to find me," he grins.

You hum while pressing your lips together, feeling your heart fluttering in your chest. "I'll see you around, Buck. Stay hydrated."

That night, you're swimming on your back while staring up at the stars, seeing an occasional plane coming in for a landing every so often. The sound of the gate opening captures your attention and you move your head in the direction of the noise.

"Hey, stranger," Bucky grins while setting his towel down beside yours.

A laugh escapes your lips as you swim towards the corner of the pool before leaning your arms on the warm concrete. "Hiya," you smile up at him, watching the blue-eyed God whisk his shirt off.

Bucky walks over to you before lowering himself into the water, splashing you slightly. "You weren't bothered by that woman anymore were you?" He asks you and you raise an eyebrow.

"Buck, I think I should be the one to ask you that," you laugh and the man wets his lips, shrugging his shoulders in response. "But, to answer your question, no."

"That's good. She was definitely a bitch," he mentions and you scoff, nodding your head in agreement.

You press your back against the curved wall, your body facing Bucky's as his large hands brush along your legs. "I don't get her problem. I totally wouldn't mind a very attractive man working outside my window," you tell him, causing Bucky to glance towards you.

"Oh?" He draws out and your cheeks heat up, realizing what you had just said. "So, you think I'm attractive?"

"I-" you cut yourself off as Bucky's hands grip your legs before swiftly pulling you closer to him. You let out a squeal and rest your hands on his shoulders, Bucky guiding your legs so they're wrapped around his waist.

You can feel your heart pounding against your chest as both of your faces are inches apart. You swallow thickly as Bucky looks up at you through his lashes. "Answer the question, doll," he whispers, feeling his fingers glide up the back of your thighs.

You lick your lips before biting it gently, your fingers moving to card through his hair. "I… I might think you're attractive," you tell him softly while adjusting your position on him.

Bucky grins widely and leans against the wall of the pool, fingers inching closer to your ass. "Good news is that I might find you attractive as well," he mutters and your heart flutters.

"You do?" You whisper and Bucky nods his head in response. The blue-eyed man brings his face closer to yours, your breath hitching when your noses brush against one another's.

Butterflies soar around your stomach when his lips connect with yours, your fingers gripping his hair gently. Your free hand rests on his cheek as you kiss him back. Bucky pulls away from you after a minute or so, resting his forehead on yours.

"You're so breathtaking," he whispers before pressing a few more kisses to your lips. You let out a few giggles while Bucky wraps his arms around your waist, twirling you around the pool. "Do you wanna get dinner tomorrow night?"

"Of course I do," you tell him and kiss the tip of his nose. "Do you want to go out or just have dinner in one of our rooms?"

Bucky brings one of his hands to your face, stroking your cheek before pulling you in again. A short moan escapes your lips as he kisses you passionately, your nails digging slightly into his shoulders.

"I want to take you out, doll," he mutters against your lips and your cheeks blush. Bucky trails his lips up your jaw, a shudder running down your spine when he whispers into your ear. "You can get all dressed up and I can bring you to your favorite restaurant."

Your grip on him tightens as he continues to play out your date. You swallow thickly when Bucky's lips move down your neck, nipping at your skin softly. "B-Bucky…" you trail off and the man pulls away from you before looking up at you. "If you keep going I'm not gonna want you to stop."

Bucky pokes his tongue out, wetting his lips before reducing the distance between your faces once again. A loud crash stops the two of you from kissing, both your heads snapping in the direction of the noise.

"Goddamn it, Steve," you hear Natasha scold the tall blonde and you roll your eyes.

Of course. You think to yourself while detaching yourself from Bucky. "Hey, assholes!" You call out with a chuckle and the two of them suddenly stand up, their heads poking over the top of the fence. "Enjoy the show?"

"We did until someone fell over," Nat mumbles as you make your way out of the pool, Bucky following closely behind you.

You wrap your towel around your body, shaking your head at the two of them. "Well, glad you enjoyed the show. If you'll excuse us," you laugh and grab Bucky's hand, leading him away from the pool area.

"Use protection!" Natasha calls out and your cheeks flush, feeling Bucky's fingers lace with yours.

"I'm sorry about them," you apologize while glancing back at the brunette, seeing a stupid grin on his lips.

Bucky shakes his head and catches up to you, dropping your hand before wrapping his arm around your shoulder. "It's alright, doll. I know how Steve can be," he chuckles while you wrap your arm around his waist.

-

A knock on your door wakes you up, a small groan leaving your lips as the sun shines directly into your room. You shield your eyes before looking around the room, seeing the television still on from last night.

"Y/N? Are you awake?" Sam's voice comes through the door and you rub your eyes while throwing the blankets off of you.

You quickly grab your sleep shorts off of the floor, pulling them up before making your way towards the door. "What's going on?" You ask in a groggy tone, looking up at the man in front of you.

Sam chuckles and notices the shirt you're wearing. "Do you know where Bucky is?" He asks and you furrow your brows, glancing towards his door and Sam speaks up before you have the chance to. "He's not in there. Already tried."

"I-" you cut yourself off and shake your head, not remembering if he works today or not. "I have no idea."

Your friend smirks down at you and reaches out towards your shirt. "Well, this is Bucky's shirt. Maybe he's in your room?" Sam assumes and your cheeks heat up while your eyes snap down towards your clothes.

You are indeed wearing Bucky's shirt and you desperately try to remember what happened after the two of you left the pool. Your fingers comb through your hair as you glance back into the room.

"Well, look, if you see him just tell him that I'm looking for him, okay?" Sam mentions and you nod your head.

You close the door after Sam walks away and steps back into the bedroom area. Your heart pounds against your chest as you see Bucky sleeping on the left side of your bed.

The blue-eyed man shifts his sleeping position as you crawl onto the bed, gently running your fingers up his spine. "Buck?" You whisper loud enough for him to hear and he lets out a groan in response.

A chuckle leaves your lips as he turns his head towards you, his eyes opening a bit. "Yeah?" He mutters huskily, causing your heart to flutter at the sound.

"What are you still doing here?" You wet your lips as Bucky turns onto his back, his metal hand resting on his stomach.

"I must've fallen asleep," Bucky mentions and runs his flesh hand through his hair. "Sorry about that."

You shake your head and grab his metal hand, playing with his fingers. "It's quite alright, actually," you grin and Bucky does as well, dropping his hand onto your thigh. "It's been a while since I've cuddled with a man."

Bucky hums and drags his thumb across your inner thigh. "Yeah, me too. Well, with a woman… not a man," he snorts and you let out a loud laugh, covering your mouth with your hand.

"You're fucking ridiculous," you giggle while shaking your head.

"Yeah, well, you love it," Bucky grins and you softly bite your bottom lip.

"That I do, Bucky, that I do."

-

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