#word press web designer

[goodtimewebdesign]

Crafting Seamless Online Experiences: Powering Website Creation with Good Time Webdesign on WordPress

Revealing the Technique of Streamlined Web Interfaces! With the WordPress expertise of Good Time Webdesign, you can easily elevate your online presence. Website Creation with WordPress has made it possible for Content management systems for anyone with an internet connection and a bit of time to build their own website. Find the union of imagination and practicality with Good Time Web Design. You can take some tips from our website for a WordPress-based website. Read more blogs:

[digihivesol]

 Website Designing Company in Delhi – Creative, Responsive & Affordable

Looking for a reliable website designing company in Delhi? We specialize in custom website designs, eCommerce development, responsive layouts, and SEO-ready websites. Our solutions are perfect for startups, SMEs, and large businesses looking to enhance their online presence. Whether you need a simple website or a complex eCommerce platform, we’ve got you covered with high-quality, affordable services.

[hotelasian]

Top WordPress Website Design Company in the USA

Are you looking for the best WordPress Website Design Company in the USA or the UK? Look no further! At LDS Engineers, we create high-quality responsive and visually appealing WordPress websites. Whether you take amp obtuse blog amp joint website or associate in nursing advance e-commerce stock our intimate WordPress developers are here to bring your sight to life. Why Choose LDS Engineers for…

[exponetly-web-development]

WordPress has transformed online business for considerable organizations. It offers the latest features as per the digital trends for particular industries or businesses. In this article, follow the current and upcoming trends in WordPress, which help your business to gain a competitive edge and stay ahead of the curve.

[prowebconcepts]

Customization Is The Key: Why You Need To Opt For Custom Web Development Services

Do you need a website? Would an off-the-shelf, template website work for you or do you need something tailored and unique? Getting custom web development services from a specialized in finest custom website design company is key if you want a site that stands out and fully serves your business needs. But why opt for custom-built over premade websites?

Why You Need Custom-Built Websites

A custom-developed website is made specifically for you and your business. Building a site from scratch allows maximum flexibility and customization. Here are 5 key reasons you need custom web development services:

Unique Branding and Messaging

A website made for you lets your brand’s style and voice shine through clearly. Custom designs and content focused on your distinct products and services help you stand out instead of looking like every other site made from templates.

Match Your Exact Business Needs

Describe exactly how you want your site to function and the offerings, layouts and features you need to run your business. Custom development translates this into a tailored-fit website meeting practical goals.

Ability to Scale Up

Easily Start with only essential pages and functionalities now. But plan for adding more products, interactive features, e-commerce or membership portals later. Custom sites make building upwards easy compared to outgrowing rigid off-the-shelf platforms.

Search Engine Friendly

Custom code and content strategies follow best practices for SEO success. This draws more organic traffic from Google by optimizing how search engines index and understand your site’s purpose.

Ownership and Control

You own a custom site versus leasing templated sites with restrictive policies. This gives you control to modify and evolve the site freely to stay competitive.

Ongoing Optimization

Your custom web developers become long-term partners that continuously tune site speed, security, and performance over months and years as technology and audiences evolve.

These are the major reasons why you need to opt for custom web development services. It is necessary to know everything about it for you.

Where to Get Custom Website Services

Specialized custom website design companies have the strategic thinking and practical skills to build completely unique, effective websites tailored to your brand and goals. When selecting a web developer, look for these signs of quality custom service:

Strong portfolio of past custom projects in your industry

Focus on strategic vision as well as expert design and coding

Services include copywriting, SEO optimization and branding

Ongoing support for site modifications and growth

Conclusion

Off-the-shelf template websites seem easy and budget-friendly at first. But their rigid constraints limit branding, operations and future growth. Custom Website Design Companycosts more upfront yet delivers excellent long-term ROI by meeting all your functional business needs while expressively communicating your brand vision. With a website customized just for you by strategic developers, you gain an invaluable business asset with endless options to evolve.

Resources-https://penzu.com/p/74df7fce5da25a2d

[m8-group]

Premier Web Design & Marketing Agency in Miami | M8 Group

Elevate your online presence with Miami's top web design & marketing agency. Offering website design in Miami, WordPress web design in NYC, and digital services. Visit us at M8-group.com.

[bywons]

WHEN HE WALKS IN, I AM LOVED 𖥔 HUSBAND!ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬──── 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌��� 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽

❪ 𝖠𝖬𝖮𝖱𝖤 𝖬𝒾𝖮 ❫ ｡ 𝗁𝗎𝗌𝖻𝖺𝗇𝖽!𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖺 & 𝖿!𝗋 1682wc 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ── 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 愛 ／ 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

する ܃ they can slide in a diamond on my ring finger anytime :3 ( and then i wake up... )

reb𝑙ogs ꪆৎ 𝑓eedbacks

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG who comes home late at night— at that hour when the ongoing web series becomes background noise for you, and you feel your eyelids closing shut on the couch. “y/n?” his whisper is barely audible as he approaches your sleeping figure, heart wrenching as he sees you on the couch in that form, probably waiting for him. slowly, he lifts you up so as to not wake you, and carries you to the bedroom. heeseung carefully places you on the bed, tucking the blanket around you with practiced gentleness. his hand brushes a strand of hair from your face as he leans in, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “you make it hard not to love you even more,” he whispers to you, giggling, he finally presses one final kiss on your cheeks before entering the shower.

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG who nevers forgets to bring you flowers everyday. it varies everyday as well— sometimes it’s pink roses, or tulips or baby breaths or lilies. your beauty reminds you of flowers, and so you receive this gift from your lovely husband everyday. today it’s a bouquet of daisies, tied neatly with a pale yellow ribbon. he steps into the house with the bouquet behind his back, with a playful smile on his face. “for my pretty lady,” he brings the flowers forward to you, chuckling upon seeing your pleased expression. “you're too much sometimes,” you giggle, but the way your cheeks flush betrays how much you love it. heeseung grins, pulling you close. “too much? or just the right amount?”

HUSBAND!HEESEUNG who has made it a ritual to dance with you on the kitchen floors. he loves to just play jazz, pull you close and sway to the music with the love of his life. without a word, he gently takes the spoon from your hand, places it on the counter, and turns you around to face him. “what are you doing?” you ask, a laugh escaping as his hands slid to your waist. “dancing with my wife,” he says simply, pulling you closer. the cut tomatoes are long forgotten on the cutting board, as he stares into your eyes with utmost adoration and love. he finally leans in for a kiss, his softly lips touching yours and moving in sync with your dance and the music, his hands crep up and pull you closer by the waist, another hand cups your face as if he has no time. “you’re the best part of my day,” he whispers as he pulls back, out of breath but full of love for you.

HUSBAND!JONGSEONG who always makes sure that you’re pampered and spoiled by him— he wants his beautiful wife to have everything in this world. from designer brands to quality time, you just have to ask jongseong and he will have it by your feet. every day, jongseong made sure you never had to lift a finger for anything. when you mention wanting a new bag, a designer one, the next day, there it is—delivered right to your doorstep, with a sweet note attached: “for my beautiful wife, because you deserve the best.” but it isn't just about the material things. he often surprises you with romantic dinners, planning spontaneous getaways, and always carving out time from his busy schedule to spend with you. you never have to ask twice. he seems to read your mind, anticipating your every need.

HUSBAND!JONGSEONG who cooks your favourite meals for you. it’s a ritual for him to cook dinner right after he gets home, he can’t see his pretty wife overworking, besides, you love his cooking— and that's enough motivation for him to cook for you everyday. the aroma of your adored dish wafts from the kitchen as your husband appears from it soon, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up with him carrying the dish on a plate, a satisfied smile on his face. as soon as jongseong puts the plate down, you take a bite, your eyes lighting up at the familiar, comforting flavors. “it’s perfect!,” you said, voice muffled by the food. jongseong chuckles, wiping a bit of sauce from the corner of your lips with his thumb. “i learned from the best, you,” he sighs, kissing the corner of your lips.

HUSBAND!JONGSEONG who always creeps up behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulders. it doesn’t matter if you’re busy with your work, if you’re baking a cake or if you’re simply standing by the window, jongseong loves back hugs, he enjoys the warmth of your body in this way. “you smell so good,” he says, burying his face in the nape of your neck while his hands snake in around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “it’s your perfume!” you sigh, lowly giggling as you return to your work on your laptop. a shiver runs down your spine as he snuggles in face further in, before lifting it to press kisses on your neck and shoulder. “it suits you best,” he hums.

HUSBAND!JAEYUN who listens intently to you, every word that occurs from your mouth, jaeyun is gulping those up. no matter if they’re the smallest rants about your day or the huge drama at your workplace, jaeyun always gets lost in your words and angelic face when you go on talking— he wishes you won’t stop so he can stare a little bit longer at you. “and then— jaeyun, are you even listening to me?” you sigh, plopping down beside him on the couch when you realise he hasn’t uttered a word since you started talking, he’s just staring at your face. “yeah, of course i am!” jaeyun defends himself, sitting up straight, “you said how your coworker had the audacity? well yeah, i hate her too,” he rolls his eyes in a playful manner, making you giggle and fall into his lap, and jaeyun immediately pulls you in, relishing the moment.

HUSBAND!JAEYUN who always notices the slightest shiver you make when the winter wind bites at your skin. you both stroll through the park, the cold air nipping at your cheeks. despite your thick scarf and gloves, you cant help but rub your arms for warmth. without a word, jaeyun stops, slipping off his coat. “jaeyun, you’ll freeze!” you protest as he drapes it over your shoulders. “i’d rather be cold than see you shiver,” he says softly, pulling the coat snug around you. his hands lingers on your arms, rubbing them gently to warm you further. your heart melts at the gesture, the oversized coat practically swallowing you whole. “you’re too sweet,” you murmur, leaning into his touch. jaeyun grins, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your nose. “only for my lovely wife.”

HUSBAND!JAEYUN who remembers the smallest details about you— to your regular coffee order to how much cheese you like in your toast, he treats everything about you like an important event. he never fails to flutter your heart when it comes to these, ever so alert about your habits. “i picked up your favorite chocolate chip cookies,” he says casually, holding out a plate to you. your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “how did you—” “i remember you told me last week how much you’ve been craving them,” he grins, watching you take a bite, your face lighting up at the taste. you smile, your heart swelling with affection. “you always know how to make me feel loved, jae.” he chuckles, sitting beside you and pulling you close. “it’s easy when someone as wonderful as you is in my life.”

HUSBAND!SUNGHOON who always offers to help you relax, by massaging your head or your legs. you deserve the ultimate care, and he’s more than willing to be a helping hand. you’re curled up on the couch, a sigh escaping your lips as you massage your sore feet, the exhaustion from work settling in. without a word, Sunghoon kneels in front of you, his hands gently taking your feet into his lap. “let me help,” he says softly, his voice calm and soothing. you lean back, surprised by his tenderness as he carefully starts massaging your feet, his touch firm but gentle. “i don’t deserve this,” you murmur, closing your eyes. “you do,” he replies, his hands moving expertly, kneading the tension out of your muscles. “you work so hard, and i want you to feel cared for.”

HUSBAND!SUNGHOON who instantly becomes a nurse when you’re sick. he’s in utmost tension and cancels all his meetings and makes sure everything at home is taken care of, from your medicine to the softest blankets, ensuring you’re always comfortable. throughout the day, sunghoon prepares warm soups with his own hands, making sure each one is exactly to your liking. he checks your temperature regularly, offering gentle reassurance whenever you feel a little colder than usual. sunghoon is always there to brush hair away from your face, hold your hand in his, presses kisses to your face and provide reassurance that everything is going to be just fine, as long as he is here.

HUSBAND!SUNGHOON who notices the smallest things that stress you out, like when your phone charger starts to fray or when your car tire looks a little low. one afternoon, you come home to find him tinkering with your phone charger, his focused expression making you smile. “hey, what are you up to?” you ask, leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. he looks up, a soft grin on his face. “just fixing your charger. i know how annoying it can be when it stops working right when you need it.” you roll your eyes playfully. “you’re spoiling me, you know that?” sunghoon chuckles, setting the charger down once he's done. “anything for you. you work hard enough; let me take care of the small stuff.” you walk over, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “i’m lucky to have you.” he smiles, pulling you into a hug. “and im lucky to take care of my wife.”

© BYWONS, 2025 / do not copy or repost without permission . div ctto

taglist────open tags in the reblogs ! network tag. @/k-labels @k-films @k-nets CLICK ME

[urdreamydoodles]

MARVEL COMICS CHARACTERS X FEM!READER

You are extremely physically affectionate towards your lover

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Thor, Loki, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Matthew Murdock, Frank Castle, Bullseye, Marc Spector, Taskmaster, Johnny Storm, Reed Richards, Ben Grimm, Susan Storm, Felicia Hardy, Stephen Strange, Namor, Johnny Blaze, Eddie Brock / Venom, T'Challa, Elektra Natchios, Muse, Victor von Doom, Peter Quill & Nova

Peter Parker (Spider-Man)

- Peter Parker was not used to this. The easy touches, the warmth of your hand against his, the way you leaned into him as if gravity itself was pulling you closer. He had spent so much of his life keeping a careful distance, making sure the people he loved never got too close—because close meant vulnerable, and vulnerable meant loss. But you? You never seemed to care about the dangers or the excuses. You curled into his side when he sat on the couch, laced your fingers through his when you walked together, kissed him just because you felt like it. And Peter—awkward, hesitant Peter—was utterly helpless against you.

- At first, he didn’t know what to do with it. The first time you pressed your face into the crook of his neck while he worked on his web-shooters, he short-circuited so hard he nearly ruined the entire mechanism. "Uh—babe? Not that I’m complaining, but—is this a thing? Are we doing this now? Oh, we are doing this now. Okay. Cool. No problem. Just—uh, gimme a sec to process." But you never waited for permission. You just kept touching him—soft, constant, reassuring—until eventually, he stopped questioning it and started needing it.

- The first time he realized just how much he needed it was after a particularly brutal night. A fight that left his body aching and his mind even worse. He barely made it through the window before you were there, wrapping yourself around him like you knew. And suddenly, everything that had been clawing at him—the guilt, the exhaustion, the loneliness—dissolved. He didn’t say a word. He just held you tighter, buried his face in your hair, and breathed.

- Now, Peter craves it like oxygen. He reaches for you before he even realizes it—pulling you against him in his sleep, hooking an arm around your waist as he scrolls through his phone, nudging his nose against yours just because he can. The world is cruel, unpredictable, dangerous—but your touch? Your warmth? That is something Peter Parker will never take for granted.

Tony Stark (Iron Man)

- Tony Stark was a man who built walls. Not the kind that crumbled easily under the weight of kind words and patient gestures—no, his were reinforced, designed to keep people out. He had spent years perfecting the art of distance, of making sure no one got too close. But you? You were different. You didn’t knock on the door, waiting for permission—you climbed right over the walls, landed in his space, and stayed. With your hands, your lips, your unwavering need to touch him, to hold him, to remind him that he was not alone.

- At first, it was… jarring. Tony was used to attention, yes, but not this kind. Not the kind that wasn’t expecting something in return. The first time you hugged him—just because—you felt the way his body went rigid, the way his hands hovered awkwardly before settling on your back. "Wow. This is… new. Okay. Hugs. We’re hugging. Cool, cool, cool. No existential crisis here." But you never relented. You pressed into his side when he worked late, kissed the back of his neck when he got lost in his own head, traced absentminded patterns into his palm during meetings. And Tony? He found himself melting into it before he even realized what was happening.

- The real turning point came one night when he woke up gasping, his chest tight, his mind drowning in memories that refused to stay buried. He didn’t even have to reach for you—you were already there, pulling him close, pressing soft kisses against his shoulder, grounding him with your touch. "I’m here," you murmured against his skin, and Tony Stark—genius, billionaire, survivor—broke. He clung to you like a lifeline, burying himself in your warmth, letting himself be held in a way he had never allowed before.

- Now, he seeks it out. He’ll act like he doesn’t, make some snarky remark about "needy girlfriends", but the second you stop touching him? He’s pulling you back in, draping himself over you like the most dramatic man alive. "Hey, where do you think you’re going? My affection quota isn’t filled yet." And if anyone so much as thinks about commenting on it? He just smirks, pulls you even closer, and says, "Jealous? You should be."

Steve Rogers (Captain America)

- Steve Rogers was a man out of time, a soldier who had spent most of his life with his fists clenched, his mind trained to endure. He was not accustomed to softness, to indulgence, to the kind of affection that did not come with conditions. And yet—here you were. Always reaching for him, always pressing close, always reminding him that he was yours. You kissed the inside of his wrist like it was sacred, ran your fingers through his hair when he let himself relax, curled against his chest like you belonged there. And the truth was? You did.

- At first, he didn’t know what to do with it. The first time you wrapped your arms around him from behind, he went stiff, his body tensing as if bracing for an attack. But when you simply hummed, resting your head against his back, something in him unraveled. He exhaled—slow, steady—before covering your hands with his. And that was the moment he realized—this was not something to fear. This was something to cherish.

- The first time he sought it out was after a particularly difficult mission. The kind that left blood on his hands and ghosts in his mind. He came home, exhausted, battered, but the moment you reached for him—he melted. He let himself sink into your arms, let himself need you in a way he rarely allowed himself to. And when you whispered, "I’ve got you," he closed his eyes and believed it.

- Now, it’s second nature. He reaches for you without thinking—pulling you into his lap when you’re both reading, brushing his knuckles against your cheek as he passes by, resting his hand on the small of your back whenever you’re near. Affection is not something he was raised to expect, but with you? With you, it is something he will never stop craving.

Thor

- Thor Odinson is a man of grand gestures, of roaring laughter and earth-shaking love. But when it comes to you—his affection is not just thunderous, but constant. He adores the way you reach for him without hesitation, the way your hands find his in quiet moments, the way your touch lingers as if you cannot bear to be apart for too long. And oh, how he thrives under it.

- The first time you showered him in affection, he grinned—wide, bright, eager. "Ah! My love, you are truly as radiant as the stars!" He embraced you effortlessly, lifting you into the air, delighting in the way you laughed against his chest. He was never one for restraint—if you wanted to touch him, to hold him, to kiss him senseless—he would let you. Encourage you. Because there was nothing Thor loved more than being loved.

- But it was the quiet moments that truly undid him. When you curled against him after a battle, your fingers tracing over his scars. When you pressed sleepy kisses to his shoulder before drifting off. When you simply held his face in your hands, looking at him like he was more than just a god, more than just a warrior. Like he was yours. And in those moments, Thor Odinson—Prince of Asgard, champion of realms—felt human.

- Now, he craves it like a force of nature. He pulls you into his lap without warning, presses lingering kisses to your forehead, wraps his arms around you so tightly you can feel the strength in them. If anyone dares to comment, he simply laughs, throwing an arm around you with a smirk. "Jealous, are we? Ah, but who could blame you? My beloved is irresistible!" Because to Thor, your love is not just something he accepts—it is something he reveres.

Loki

- Loki was not accustomed to tenderness. Affection, in his experience, had always been fleeting—given only in exchange for something, laced with expectation, or worse, manipulation. But you? You gave without asking. You touched without hesitation. Your fingers traced the sharp lines of his face as if he were something to be studied, not feared. You kissed his knuckles absentmindedly, tangled your fingers in his hair, rested your head against his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And Loki—cunning, guarded, untouchable—let you.

- At first, he did not know what to do with it. The first time you cupped his face in your hands, he had gone utterly still, his breath caught between his ribs, waiting for the inevitable trick, the hidden knife. But all you did was smile, tracing the delicate skin beneath his eyes as if he were precious. As if he were yours. And something in him—something ancient, something wounded—cracked apart.

- He is not a man who gives easily, but when he does, he gives completely. Now, Loki seeks your touch like a starving thing—leaning into your warmth as you press against his side, pulling you into his lap without a word, letting your hands wander over him as if to prove he is real. He teases, of course—"Darling, do you find me so irresistible that you cannot keep your hands to yourself?"—but his voice is softer than it should be, his hands tightening against yours as if begging you never to stop.

- And if anyone so much as questions it? If they dare to call him weak for the way he melts beneath your hands? He merely smirks, his arm curling around your waist as he whispers, "Ah, but love, what better trick is there than to make the gods themselves fall to their knees?"

Clint Barton (Hawkeye)

- Clint Barton had spent a lifetime watching his back, expecting the worst. He was not used to gentle hands, to soft embraces that did not come with conditions or an ulterior motive. He had lived his life running—always moving, always fighting, never letting anyone get too close. And then you happened. You, with your touch that lingered like a second heartbeat. You, with your hands that grounded him when the world spun too fast. You, who reached for him not because you needed something, but simply because you wanted him.

- At first, he brushed it off with humor. The first time you reached for him—grabbing his hand absentmindedly, brushing your lips against his temple—he raised a brow, smirking. "Wow, you just can’t help yourself, huh?" But then he noticed the way he relaxed under your touch. The way the tension in his shoulders eased when you pressed a hand against his back. The way his pulse slowed when your fingers traced lazy circles against his skin. And suddenly, it wasn’t funny anymore—it was necessary.

- He never asks for it outright—he’s too stubborn for that—but you start noticing the way he lingers. The way he moves closer without realizing it. The way his fingers brush against yours just a little too long before he actually grabs your hand. And when you finally call him on it—"Clint, you like this."—he just huffs, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, don’t get a big head about it." But his grip on you tightens. Because for all his bravado, he’s never letting this go.

- Now, he doesn’t even try to fight it. He pulls you against him when you’re standing still too long, rests his chin on your shoulder, tugs you into his lap with a grin. If anyone makes a comment, he just shrugs. "What? She’s warm." And if you ever stop touching him? If you deny him affection? He’ll groan dramatically, throwing himself onto the nearest surface. "Babe, please. I’m literally dying. Have some mercy."

Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow)

- Natasha Romanoff was not built for softness. She was trained to endure, to resist, to survive—but not to need. Affection had always been a tool, a weapon to be wielded when necessary, but never something meant for her. So when you came along—when you touched her so easily, so freely—she did not know what to do with it. The first time you hugged her, without hesitation, without purpose, she had simply frozen.

- It wasn’t that she didn’t want it—God, she ached for it—but want was dangerous. Want could be exploited. So she told herself it was nothing, that it didn’t matter. But then it kept happening. You would take her hand absentmindedly, lean into her warmth without hesitation, press a kiss to her shoulder just because you could. And she—cold, untouchable Natasha—let you.

- The first time she reached for you, it was barely noticeable—a hand on your waist, a finger brushing against yours. But once she let herself have it, she couldn’t stop. Now, she seeks it. She won’t ask, won’t say a word, but if you sit beside her without touching her, she will fix it. A hand on your knee. A foot nudging against yours. A quiet, steady reminder that she is here. That you are hers.

- And if anyone so much as mentions it? She raises a brow, her expression unreadable. "What? You think I don’t deserve nice things?" Because Natasha Romanoff may not have been made for love, but with you? With you, she is relearning what it means to have it.

Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier)

- Bucky Barnes was a man starved of warmth. For so long, his body had belonged to everyone but him. He had been touched in violence, in control, in suffering—but never in love. Never in a way that asked for nothing. And then there was you. You, with your gentle hands and your stubborn refusal to let go. You, who traced the lines of his palm as if mapping a constellation, who pressed kisses against the cold metal of his arm as if it were worthy of tenderness. You, who reached for him as if he were not something broken.

- At first, he flinched. Not because he didn’t want it, but because he didn’t know how to take it. The first time you pressed your forehead against his, he nearly pulled away. But then you sighed—soft, content—as if this was normal, as if he was normal. And he… let it happen. Just this once.

- But once was never enough. He started to crave it, to need it. Now, he is the one reaching for you—pulling you closer in the middle of the night, pressing his nose into your hair, grounding himself in you. If you so much as walk by, he is grabbing your wrist, tugging you into his lap, resting his chin against your shoulder. He doesn’t ask for it—he just takes it. Because after years of being denied choice, of being denied himself, this is something he chooses.

- And if anyone dares to comment on how much he clings to you? He just gives them a slow, dangerous smile. "You got a problem with the way I love my girl?" Because Bucky Barnes has lost too much already—he will not lose this. He will not lose you.

Matthew Murdock (Daredevil)

- Matthew Murdock feels you before you even touch him. Your presence wraps around him like a second skin, the scent of you lingers in the air, the warmth of your body radiates inches away. He hears the tiny shifts in your heartbeat before your fingers even graze his skin, the way it quickens ever so slightly before you reach for him. And he loves it—craves it. He is a man made of contradictions, torn between faith and sin, violence and tenderness. But you? You are the one indulgence he does not seek penance for.

- He drinks in every touch like a dying man. Your fingers threading through his hair, the press of your lips against his jaw, the way you trace patterns over his scars as if rewriting his past with something softer. He does not flinch, does not pull away—no, he leans into it, into you. Because for all the things he has lost, all the things he has chosen to lose, this—you—he will hold onto with both hands.

- He lets you guide him in ways he never allows anyone else. You tilt his chin up before pressing a kiss to his lips, brush your nose against his as if memorizing him in your own way. He revels in it, in the way you seek him, the way your affection comes without hesitation. He doesn’t have to ask, doesn’t have to reach—because you are always there, grounding him, holding him together when the weight of his double life threatens to break him apart.

- And if anyone ever dares to call it weakness? If they think for one second that loving you makes him soft? He only smirks, tilting his head. “You think I don’t know exactly how lucky I am?” His fingers tighten around yours, thumb brushing against your wrist where your pulse beats steady beneath his touch. “I’d rather be a fool in love than a man without her.”

Frank Castle (Punisher)

- Frank Castle is not a man built for softness. His hands are meant for war, his body carved from violence, his heart a thing long since buried beneath grief and blood. But then there’s you. You, who touch him with something gentle, something that does not demand or take or wound. Your fingers ghost over his scars as if rewriting history, your hands linger on his shoulders as if reminding him that he is still here. Still alive. Still worthy of being touched.

- He does not know what to do with it at first. The first time you reached for him—cupped his face, pressed your lips to his temple—he went rigid. Not out of fear, but out of something worse. Because he had forgotten what it felt like. Forgotten the weight of tenderness, the way affection could seep into a man’s bones and soften him. And Frank Castle does not do soft.

- But then you kept doing it. You never hesitated, never recoiled from him, never asked before reaching for him as if you knew he needed it before he even did. And soon, he began to crave it. Now, his hands find yours before you even offer them. His arm wraps around your waist instinctively, tugging you close, keeping you there. And when he buries his face in your neck after a long night, when his hands grip your hips like a man desperate to hold on, he does not speak—but you know. You know.

- If anyone ever dares to question why the Punisher—a man feared, a man unstoppable—allows himself to melt beneath your hands? He only levels them with a look that could kill. "You think love makes a man weak? Love is the only thing that ever made me fight harder." And then, without hesitation, he pulls you into his arms, presses a kiss to your forehead, and lets the world watch.

Bullseye (Lester)

- Bullseye is a man who takes. He is selfish, greedy, unapologetic in his desires. He is a man who was never given love, who was never taught tenderness. So when you give it to him—freely, without hesitation—it both amuses and terrifies him. You, with your hands always reaching for him. You, with your lips that press against his skin like a promise. You, who touch him not with fear, not with reverence, but with something even more dangerous—affection.

- He lets you do it, of course. Hell, he wants you to do it. He soaks up every touch like an addict chasing his next hit. Your fingers in his hair, your nails scraping down his back, your lips trailing over his scars like a silent claim. He thrives on it, thrives on the way you never shy away, never flinch, never hesitate. It’s a game to him at first—seeing how far he can push you, how much you’re willing to give. But then? Then it becomes something else. Something real.

- He doesn’t like to admit it, but he gets jealous. Not in the way most men do—no, his jealousy is something sharper, something deadly. If someone so much as looks at you too long, if they think they can take what is his, he makes it known that you belong to him. Not with words—words are useless—but with a smirk, a hand curling around your throat just to feel your pulse race beneath his fingers, a kiss so possessive that it leaves bruises.

- And if anyone questions why he allows himself to be loved? Why he lets himself have this? He only grins, something sharp and cruel. “Why wouldn’t I? You ever seen what happens when I want something?” His grip on you tightens, his lips brushing against your ear as he adds, “And trust me, baby—I want you.”

Marc Spector (Moon Knight)

- Marc Spector does not believe in good things lasting. He has lived too many lives, worn too many faces, bled for too many gods to believe in permanence. He is a man who knows how to fight, how to kill, how to survive—but not how to be loved. And yet, here you are. Always touching him, always pulling him closer, always reminding him that he is yours.

- He doesn’t know how to handle it at first. The first time you brushed your fingers across his jaw, he flinched. Not because he didn’t want it—but because he did. And wanting was dangerous. Wanting meant losing. But you were patient. You never pushed, never demanded—just gave. And little by little, he let you in.

- Now? Now he is desperate for it. If he wakes up in the middle of the night, his hands seek you out before his mind even catches up. If he is spiraling, if the weight of his past is too much, he finds solace in your arms, in the press of your lips against his knuckles, in the way you hold him without needing a reason. You ground him. You keep him whole.

- And if anyone ever thinks that loving you makes him weaker? That your touch somehow softens him? He only chuckles, dark and low. “You think love makes a man weak?” His arm tightens around your waist, his grip steady, unyielding. “No, love makes a man dangerous. Because now? Now I have something worth fighting for.”

Taskmaster (Tony Masters)

- Taskmaster is a man of reflexes, of calculation, of knowing before it happens. He has memorized a thousand different ways to break a man apart, has studied movement until it is nothing more than muscle memory. And yet, when it comes to you, all of his instincts—his sharp, honed precision—fail him. Because how does one prepare for you? For the way you reach for him without hesitation, for the way your fingers trace the edge of his mask before pushing it away so you can kiss the scarred skin beneath?

- He doesn’t flinch, but he stiffens—not out of rejection, but out of unfamiliarity. He is a man who has lived in the shadows, who has worn a thousand faces but never his own. But you? You do not want his skills, his talents, his ability to mimic the perfect kill. No, you want him, the man beneath the mask, the one no one else has ever bothered to know. And that is something he cannot prepare for.

- At first, he makes it a game—testing you, pushing you, waiting for you to hesitate. But you never do. Your hands are steady, your touch unwavering. You press kisses to his scars as if rewriting the story of how they got there. You run your fingers through his hair like it is something precious, something yours. And slowly, without realizing it, he starts to crave it. Now, if you pull away first, if your touch is missing for even a second too long, he misses it.

- And if anyone so much as questions why Taskmaster—a man feared, a man whose skill is his everything—allows you to touch him so freely? He only smirks beneath his mask, tilting his head. "Because she's the only thing in this world I don’t want to copy—I just want her to be mine.”

Johnny Storm (Human Torch)

- Johnny Storm is made of fire, of heat, of something too wild to be tamed. He burns bright, so bright, and yet—when you touch him—it does not hurt. He does not let it. You press your fingers to his cheek, and the flames simmer beneath your touch. Your lips graze his jaw, and he melts into you, his hands pulling you close, always close, as if the space between you is unbearable.

- He thrives on your affection. It fuels him like oxygen to a fire, makes him burn hotter, makes him alive. If you so much as brush against him in passing, his arm is already wrapping around your waist, tugging you back into him. If you lean against him while watching TV, he is grinning, burying his face in your hair, breathing you in. He is insatiable—not because he needs it, but because he wants it. Wants you.

- And oh, he flaunts it. If someone so much as looks at him the wrong way, he is already pulling you onto his lap, already pressing his lips to your shoulder with a smirk. “Yeah, she’s mine. You jealous?” It is playful, teasing—but underneath it, there is something real, something desperate. Because Johnny Storm has always been adored, has always had fans, admirers, women who wanted the Human Torch. But you? You want Johnny, and that is something he will never take for granted.

- And if anyone thinks that love, that you, make him less? That your touch somehow dims his fire? He only laughs, shaking his head. “You kidding? Love doesn’t make me burn out. Love makes me burn brighter.” And with that, he kisses you—claims you—right there in front of the world, because there is nothing about you he will ever hide.

Reed Richards (Mister Fantastic)

- Reed Richards is a man of science, of logic, of problems waiting to be solved. He is not one for frivolous things, for unnecessary distractions. And yet—you. You, with your hands that reach for him so easily. You, with your lips that press to his temple as he works, with your fingers that thread through his hair when he has been at his desk for too long. You, who has become something he cannot simply explain, cannot analyze, because love—true, deep love—is not something that fits within the confines of logic.

- At first, he does not know what to do with it. He stiffens when you wrap your arms around him from behind, hesitates when you take his hand in yours. But he is a quick learner. Soon, his fingers find yours before you even offer them. Soon, when you rest your head against his shoulder, he leans into you rather than away. And soon, he realizes that your touch is not a distraction—it is a necessity.

- You do not take offense when he loses himself in his work—you understand him, understand that his mind is constantly moving, constantly racing. And because of that, he makes an effort for you. He sets his tools aside when you tug at his sleeve, lets you press your forehead against his, lets you pull him into your world of warmth and touch and feeling. And over time, he begins to crave it, begins to seek it out rather than wait for you to give it.

- And if anyone assumes that the great Mr. Fantastic has no time for something as simple as love? He only adjusts his glasses, his fingers lacing with yours as he responds, "On the contrary, love is the greatest equation of all.” And then, without hesitation, he kisses you—not because it is logical, but because it is right.

Ben Grimm (The Thing)

- Ben Grimm is a man made of stone, of rough edges, of a body that was never meant to be touched. He has spent years pulling away, avoiding the weight of hands that might recoil, of fingers that might fear what he has become. But you? You never hesitate. Your hands find his without hesitation, your fingers trace the lines of his knuckles, your lips press against his jaw as if he is not a man made of stone but of something softer.

- At first, he tells you not to. “You don’t gotta do that, doll.” His voice is gruff, edged with something bitter, something vulnerable. But you only smile, only brush your fingers along his arm like it is the easiest thing in the world. And suddenly, he does not feel like a thing anymore. Suddenly, he is Ben again, just Ben, a man who is still worthy of love, of touch, of you.

- Now? Now, he needs it. Needs the weight of your arms around his waist, needs your hand in his, needs your touch to remind him that he is still here, still whole. And when you kiss him, when you cradle his face in your hands as if he is precious, he swears he could crumble beneath you. Because you see him, not the rock, not the monster, just him.

- And if anyone dares to look at you with pity, to question why you love a man like him? He only chuckles, low and deep, before wrapping his arms around you with something possessive, something sure. “She ain’t with me ‘cause she has to be. She’s with me ‘cause she wants to be.” And as you press another kiss to his lips, he knows—without a doubt—that he is the luckiest man alive.

Susan Storm (Invisible Woman)

- Susan Storm is a woman of poise, of quiet strength, of hands that have shielded the ones she loves more times than she can count. She is used to being the protector, the one who stands between the world and those she cares for. But you—you do not let her bear it alone. You reach for her, fingers brushing over hers, and for the first time in too long, she lets herself be held instead of holding the weight of everything else.

- You are a woman of touch, and at first, it surprises her. Not because she does not crave it, but because she has learned to go without. To be soft is a risk, to be vulnerable is a danger—but when you press your lips to her temple, when you pull her into your arms without hesitation, she melts. She had forgotten what it was to be touched without expectation, without urgency. With you, she remembers.

- Your affection is not a distraction—it is an anchor. When she returns from battle, weary from holding up her force fields for too long, you are there, guiding her to rest with a hand at the small of her back. When she loses herself in thought, in planning, in the weight of responsibility, you remind her that she does not have to be invisible to herself. Your touch pulls her back, reminds her that she is not alone.

- And when you reach for her in public, when you lace your fingers through hers in the presence of others, she does not pull away. No, she holds on tighter. Because love is not something to be hidden—not anymore. And when someone asks her if she ever tires of your endless affection, she only smiles, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as she whispers, "Never."

Felicia Hardy (Black Cat)

- Felicia Hardy is a woman of thrill, of quick escapes, of stolen jewels and stolen hearts. She has spent her life slipping through fingers, never staying in one place for too long. Love is a game to her, a dance she has always led. And yet—when it is you reaching for her, when it is you pressing kisses to her bare shoulder, when it is you curling against her at night—she does not run.

- You are soft in a way she has never trusted, yet she trusts you with something more valuable than any diamond—her time. Your hands are never idle when you are near her, always tracing patterns along her skin, always pulling her close, always grounding her. And though she will never admit it, she is addicted to it. Addicted to you. Addicted to the way you stay when she has spent her life learning how to leave.

- She teases you for it, of course. "You just can't get enough of me, can you?" she purrs, her voice all silk and mischief. But then you press your forehead to hers, then you kiss her like she is precious, and suddenly, she is the one gasping, the one holding onto you. Love has never been something she let herself have, but with you, she realizes she does not have to steal it—it is already hers.

- And if anyone dares to question why the infamous Black Cat allows herself to be caught in your arms so easily, she only laughs, wrapping herself around you like she has never belonged anywhere else. "Oh, sweetheart," she purrs, pressing a kiss to your jaw, "I'm exactly where I want to be."

Stephen Strange (Doctor Strange)

- Stephen Strange is a man of logic, of precision, of a mind that once thought itself above something as frivolous as love. He has wielded power beyond comprehension, seen realities beyond this one, and yet you—you and your endless touches, your unwavering affection—are the greatest mystery of all.

- You do not ask for permission to touch him; you simply do. You brush a hand over his shoulders as he studies ancient texts, you trace the lines of his scars when he is lost in thought. And at first, he stiffens beneath it, unaccustomed to being handled with such care. But you do not stop. You do not pull away. And so, little by little, he begins to lean into it.

- Now, when you curl against him in the quiet moments between battles, he is the one seeking you out, the one pulling you closer, the one pressing a silent kiss to your wrist as if to mark you as his. He will never admit how much he needs it, how much he needs you, but his actions speak louder than his pride. He has faced countless enemies, battled forces beyond mortal comprehension, but losing you? That is the one fate he refuses to allow.

- And when others look at him, the great Sorcerer Supreme, and wonder how someone so untouchable could belong so wholly to you, he only smirks, wrapping his cloak around your shoulders as he murmurs, "Even magic has its weaknesses. She just happens to be mine."

Namor

- Namor is a king, a warrior, a god among men. He has ruled beneath the waves, commanded armies, and stood against the greatest forces this world has ever known. He bows to no one. And yet, when you reach for him, when your fingers trace the sharp lines of his jaw, when your lips press against his skin like he is something sacred—he does not pull away.

- You are unlike anyone he has ever known. Where others fear his power, you cradle it in your hands, unafraid, unshaken. You touch him as if he is not a king, not a god, but a man. And though he will never say it outright, it unravels him. No battle, no war, no enemy has ever undone him the way your fingertips grazing his collarbone does.

- At first, he treats it as a privilege—something you are lucky to have. But then, you stop one day, pulling away just slightly, and it is only then that he realizes—it is he who has been privileged all along. He who needs you. Now, when you touch him, when you press yourself against him, his hands are already reaching, already holding you tighter, as if daring the world to take you from him.

- And if anyone so much as questions why the mighty Namor allows himself to be so utterly devoted to your touch, his response is simple. He lifts his chin, his grip on your waist tightening as he declares, "Because she is mine. And a king does not let go of what is his."

Johnny Blaze (Ghost Rider)

- Johnny Blaze has spent a lifetime running—from the past, from the fire inside him, from the weight of every sin he has burned to ash. He does not get to have softness, does not get to have something good—or so he has always believed. But you—you and your hands that never hesitate to touch him, to hold him, to pull him back from the flames—you make him question that.

- Your fingers trace the scars along his arms, the burns that never truly fade, and instead of flinching, you press your lips to them. He is not used to being handled like this, like he is something worthy of tenderness. And yet, you do it so effortlessly, so naturally, that he forgets how to breathe every time you do.

- When the Ghost Rider takes hold, when his body is consumed by Hellfire, you do not step away—you reach through it. Your touch grounds him, pulls him from the abyss, reminds him that he is more than a cursed soul wrapped in leather and chains. And though he will never say it aloud, he knows—if there is any salvation left for him, it is you.

- And if anyone dares to question why the Spirit of Vengeance allows himself to be so weak beneath your touch, he only smirks, pulling you into his arms, his voice a low growl against your ear. "Weak? Nah, sweetheart. You’re just the only thing worth holding onto."

Eddie Brock / Venom

- Eddie Brock is a man who has spent his life being unwanted—by his father, by society, by the world that cast him aside the moment he fell. Venom is a creature that has known nothing but hunger, a parasite by design, a monster in the eyes of humanity. But you—you reach for them both like they are something to be loved, and neither of them knows how to handle it.

- Your hands never hesitate. You stroke Eddie’s jaw when he grits his teeth, your fingers slipping into his hair like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Venom, in turn, coils around you, tendrils wrapping over your shoulders, tracing your cheek. "She is ours," the symbiote purrs, delighted, possessive. And Eddie, for once in his life, does not argue.

- Eddie is gruff about it, muttering things like "You’re clingy as hell, you know that?" but his actions betray him. He leans into your touch every damn time, closes his eyes when you kiss his temple, sighs when you pull him into your embrace. Venom is far less subtle, practically preening under your affection, slithering around you, murmuring about how perfect you are, how deliciously devoted you must be to them.

- And when people stare—when they whisper about how strange it is that someone so soft belongs to someone so monstrous—Eddie only smirks, wrapping an arm around you as Venom’s voice hums inside his head. "Let ‘em talk," he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "They don’t get it. But we do."

T’Challa (Black Panther)

- T’Challa is a king, a warrior, a mind sharpened by strategy, a body honed for battle. He moves through life with precision, with grace, with an unwavering sense of duty. Love, affection—these are things he appreciates, but never allows to distract him. And yet you—you slip through the cracks in his armor with every touch, every embrace, every kiss pressed to the back of his hand when you think no one is watching.

- Your touch is not demanding, nor is it fleeting—it is a constant, an unspoken declaration. And though he does not say it aloud, he finds himself seeking it, needing it. A hand at his shoulder when he is lost in thought. A brush of fingers along his wrist when he is tense. A silent, grounding presence when the weight of Wakanda, of the world, threatens to press too heavily upon him.

- When you curl against him at night, when you lace your fingers through his as he works, when you press your lips to his in a moment of quiet devotion—he knows, without question, that you are not merely his lover. You are his home. And for a man who has spent his life fighting for his people, for his throne, for his legacy—you are the one thing he fights for himself.

- And when others bow in reverence to their king, when they wonder how a ruler so composed allows himself to be touched so freely, he only smiles, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw as he murmurs, "Because even a king is a man. And a man must cherish what is his."

Elektra Natchios

- Elektra Natchios is a weapon, a blade honed to perfection, a shadow in the night that moves without hesitation. She does not need touch, does not crave affection—at least, that is what she has always told herself. But you—you with your hands that never hesitate to reach for her, your lips that press against every scar she has earned—you make her question everything.

- At first, she resists. Your touch is a distraction, a weakness she cannot afford. But then, she notices the way her body relaxes under your fingertips, the way her breath slows when you hold her, the way her mind quiets when you run your fingers through her hair. And suddenly, it is not a weakness—it is a lifeline.

- You touch her like she is not just a weapon, not just a killer, but a woman. And though she does not say it, though she still carries herself like she is untouchable, her actions betray her. She leans into you when no one is looking, she lets you hold her after a fight, she lets you love her without condition. And that—more than any battle, more than any war—is the most terrifying thing she has ever faced.

- And if anyone dares to suggest that the infamous Elektra Natchios has softened under your touch, she only smiles—a sharp, knowing thing. Because she has not softened. No, she has simply found something she is willing to kill for. And that, she thinks as she curls her fingers around yours, is far more dangerous.

Muse

- Muse does not understand softness, not in the way others do. He sees the world in smears of red, in the curve of a scream, in the way the city bleeds its stories onto concrete. He is an artist first, a killer second, and something unnameable in between. Affection is not in his vocabulary—at least, not until you start tracing patterns into his skin, your fingers ghosting over his ribs, your lips pressing against his jaw like a whisper of devotion.

- He does not react at first. He merely watches, blank eyes reflecting nothing but the shapes of your hands as they roam over him. You touch him as if he is something real, something worthy of being held, and it confuses him. But confusion does not stop him from leaning into it. He lets you press against him, lets your warmth seep into the cold spaces inside him, and though he does not speak, he feels—feels the way your touch lingers, the way it changes him.

- Your touch is a contradiction to everything he is, a stark contrast to the violence that drips from his hands. And yet, he craves it. Craves you. He does not say it, does not know how to say it, but he shows it in the way he lets you near when no one else is allowed, in the way he allows your fingers to wipe the wet paint from his face, in the way he follows your warmth like a moth drawn to flame.

- And when people whisper, when they wonder why someone like you chooses someone like him, he only tilts his head, an eerie smile curling at his lips. Because they do not understand—they do not see the art in your touch, the poetry in your fingertips, the masterpiece you paint onto the canvas of his skin. But he does. He always does.

Victor von Doom (Dr. Doom)

- Doom does not yield. Doom does not bow. Doom does not allow weakness, nor does he tolerate sentimentality. And yet, when your hands rest against his armored chest, when your lips press against the cold steel of his mask, he hesitates. Not out of reluctance—but because you dare to touch him as though he is human, as though he is something beyond the monarch, beyond the mind, beyond the mask.

- At first, he dismisses it. You are simply fascinated, drawn to power as all are. But then, your fingers curl against his bare skin when the armor is removed, when his defenses are lowered, and he feels it. It is not awe, nor is it fear—it is something else, something dangerous. Affection. Devotion. Love. And he does not know what to do with it.

- You do not shrink from him, do not recoil from the scars, from the weight of his name, from the sheer gravity of his presence. Instead, you pull him closer, your warmth pressing into his bones, your touch unraveling the careful control he has spent years perfecting. And Doom, for all his brilliance, for all his power, finds himself undone by something as simple as your hands upon his skin.

- And if anyone dares to question your place at his side, dares to suggest that Doom has been tamed, they do not live long enough to repeat the mistake. Because Doom does not bend—but for you, for your touch, for the impossible gift of your warmth—he allows himself to be held.

Peter Quill (Star-Lord)

- Peter Quill has always been a man of touch. A hand on the shoulder, an arm around the waist, a flirtatious brush of fingers—it is second nature to him. But you—you take it to another level. You reach for him constantly, threading your fingers through his hair, tugging him into embraces, pressing kisses to his cheek just because you can. And at first, he thinks, Yeah, okay, this is nice.

- But then he realizes—this isn’t just casual affection. This isn’t just something fun. It’s you—you, who touch him like he is real, like he is worthy, like he is more than just a scrappy thief with a playlist and a knack for getting into trouble. You hold him with intent, with meaning, and it wrecks him.

- There are moments, quiet ones, where he doesn’t crack a joke, doesn’t fill the silence with music or sarcasm. He just lets you touch him—lets you brush your fingers over the stubble on his jaw, lets you trace the curve of his lips with your thumb, lets you pull him into your warmth until he forgets where his body ends and yours begins.

- And when the crew teases him, when Rocket smirks and Gamora raises an eyebrow, Peter only grins, pulling you closer with a laugh. "What can I say? I’m a lucky guy." But later, when it’s just the two of you, when your hands are pressed against his chest and your heartbeat matches his, he knows—it’s not luck. It’s you. And he’s not letting go.

Nova (Richard Rider)

- Richard Rider has spent a lifetime holding the line—for the galaxy, for his people, for everyone who has ever needed a hero. He is used to the weight of duty, of responsibility, of battle. What he is not used to is someone holding him. But you? You are relentless. You pull him into hugs without warning, lace your fingers through his, press kisses to the scars he’s earned in wars too many to count.

- He resists at first—not because he doesn’t want it, but because he doesn’t know how to accept it. He’s always been the soldier, the protector, the last man standing. But you refuse to let him carry it alone. You reach for him when his shoulders are tense, press your forehead against his when the weight of the universe sits too heavy on his spine. And slowly, slowly, he learns to lean into it.

- Your touch is an anchor, a reminder that he is more than Nova Prime, more than a warrior bound to the stars. You bring him back—to the moment, to you. And when he finally, finally allows himself to wrap his arms around you in return, to pull you into his chest and just breathe, he realizes—he has been waiting for this his entire life.

- And when the stars call him away, when duty demands he leave once more, he does so with the feeling of your hands still lingering on his skin, with the memory of your warmth wrapped around his soul. And no matter how far he flies, no matter how deep into the void he goes—he knows. He will always come back. Because he is not just Richard Rider, not just Nova. He is yours.

[sexlapis]

[◉°] … toji & y/n being a couple for 10 minutes straight pt.3

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡˚ 𓂋 ❄﹒✦﹒✿ ˚

꩜ actor!toji x actress!reader

⤷ synopsis : just toji & reader being idiots in luv…

꩜ content : crazy fans, very mild physical violence (toji pushing ppl lol), toji being a little ooc again. this is really not as wack as the warnings are making it sound.

- a/n : loads of people seem to be enjoying this & i enjoy making them, so here you go! :D

. . . part 1, part 2, part 4

masterlists

౨ৎ first clip

(recorded by your fansite) - you & toji are at the airport and it is packed. there are fans swarming you, practically suffocating you & toji, along with paparazzi taking pictures of you, flashing lights in your face. your bodyguards are literally at war trying to guard you and you have to cling onto toji’s arm to even get past the sea of people.

all of a sudden one fan somehow gets way too close, and grabs a hold of your shirt, trying to drag you towards him. you jerk forward and without even hesitating, toji just grabs the face of the crazy fan and pushes him away like it’s nothing, causing a domino effect having other fans falling over as well.

toji puts an arm around you and guides you to check your tickets, ignoring all the chaos he caused behind him.

(this got a lot of mixed reactions, some people siding with toji saying he was just protecting you & others criticising him for his rash actions that could’ve caused people to get injured 💀)

౨ৎ second clip

you & toji were doing a video for WIRED, taking part in their popular series, “Web’s Most Searched Questions” about yourselves.

“okay third question..” you say, and peel off the paper. “are _____ and toji..dating?”

you & toji look at the camera and then at each other, faces hot and you’re both awkwardly smiling before looking at the camera again. you & toji speak. “yeah, i dunno.” “nooo idea.” “literally no clue whatsoever.” “why even ask that like-like we’d know the answer?”

you peel the next question and it’s even worse. “are _____ and toji having- A BABY?!” you shout and cover your face laughing, both in shock and amusement. “what?!”

toji just facepalms, hiding his pink cheeks and sighs tiredly. “christ…”

౨ৎ third clip

you’re at a press conference for the series you and toji are in, all the cast members are gathered on a long table with microphones but it’s a pretty informal gathering and the fans are being very interactive with the cast!

a crew members hands the microphone to a fan who has a question. “hi! hi, i’m sarah and uhm..i have a question for toji. and _____ too! do you think that your characters have a chance of..like..getting together? like romantically-?”

“yeah we’re getting together,” toji responds bluntly, reeling in the loud cheers from the crowd & he decides to add fuel to the fire. “and we’re gonna have a make-out scene too.”

the audiences goes crazy with applause and whistles, while you pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head in embarrassment as the cast look to see your reaction.

then the director of the show pitches in, holding her finger up. “just to clarify, we did not discuss this..”

there’s a chorus of laughs and sad ‘awws’ among the pool of fans which only makes you giggle. you didn’t even know what to say to toji’s brashness.

gojo chimes in with his loud mouth while everyone is still buzzing from toji’s unexpected words. “talking about kisses and stuff like. this guy’s just saying what he wants to hear!”

everyone starts creasing up again and you & toji lean your heads to look at each other on opposing ends of the table, and he just smirks at you while you just shake your head and try not to look so obvious..

౨ৎ fourth clip

vogue did a video with you getting ready for a fashion show you were invited to, by the designer herself.

the makeup artists had just finished your shimmery, fairy-like makeup and now the stylists were accessorising you with jewellery and fixing your hair.

“yeah i really like how the hair is done,” you say, referring to the baby pink ribbon tied cutely around your bun. “it’s really cute! and the dress is just so-”

the door to the dressing room opens and toji pokes his head in, the camera zooming in on him. “‘ya done yet?”

“toji?” you ask, exasperated. “toji get out! we’re not finished yet..”

toji looks you up and down in confusion. “ya look done to me. we gotta leave in like-”

“toji i am clearly not finished. we have to go through which jewellery looks the best with the neckline of the dress and..my whole look altogether so it doesn’t drown me out! and then we have to pick the correct shoes and make sure i’m comfortable with them and that they look pretty but also don’t take attention away from the dress. and then for the perfume-”

“yeah, yeah, alright, i get it.” toji totes. “but we have to be there in 30 minutes so-”

“oh toji’.” you sigh, looking in the mirror while the stylist fuss around you. “it’s okay if we’re late. i’m the main event. the designer invented me personally. they won’t even start the show if i’m not there. it’ll be fine, trust me.”

toji looks at you for a moment and then simply shrugs, nodding and accepting your words.

౨ৎ fifth clip

“so yeah, this is the book i’m reading.” you hold up ‘pride & prejudice’ to the camera for your fans to see. you were on a livestream, which you don’t usually do, and many fans were watching. “i just love this book. the characters are-”

loud, thudding footsteps can be heard in the background and you pause. a deep, clearly a man’s voice can be heard and then a shirtless toji walks into frame (as identified by his tattoos bc his face is not on camera). he reaches out of frame.

“sorry, jus’ forgot my shirt.”

he puts his shirt on, not even realising what he just did in front of 50,000 people and walks out of the room

it all happened so fast, you sit with your jaw open like a fish, holding your now forgotten book in your hand while the chat goes wild, spamming questions of “who is that?” “is that toji?” “you and toji are together?” in a frantic, chaotic fashion.

you just look at the camera and reach forward, abruptly ending the live. fans did not stop talking about this moment for months and they most certainly did not believe you when you said toji was just at your house for a little ‘visit’.

౨ৎ

tag list: @tiredslepz | @hayatslife | @shxyxyxxxx | @snowprincesa1 | @laylasbunbunny | @mimiemie

a/n: yk how hard it is to think of ideas for this omg 😭💔

[zaczenemiji]

Can you do a spiderwomen x kenji sato. Maybe she was sent to retrieve emi and then got caught by kenji, and she was put into a jail like thing. So now she's just stuck there. She starts flirting with him. If yk what i mean 😏👉🏿👈🏿🎀💓🌸

Have an ice cream cone. 🍦

Thanks ♡♡♡♡

Kaiju Heist

Kenji Sato x Spiderwoman!Reader

Word Count: 1,066

Genre/Warnings: Anti-hero, Flirting, Imprisonment, Morally Grey/Ambiguous Reader

Author’s Note: This one was a bit challenging, I hope it’s to your liking. Thank you for the ice cream, I offer you this fic.

MASTERLIST

Your plan was simple: sneak in, grab the baby kaiju, and get out. But things rarely went according to plan.

Let’s begin where it all started—that damn spider.

Long story short, your parents were scientists doing experiments on radioactive spiders. You help in their lab and one day, an earthquake enormous kaiju shook the city, causing a containment breach. The next thing you know, a particularly aggressive spider bit your hand.

Of course, you gained extraordinary abilities. Others would’ve loved this and used them for good—be like Ultraman or whatever. But to you, it’s more like a curse. Seriously, you didn’t ask for this so ain’t no way were you going to become a selfless heroine.

So you did nothing with your abilities; you didn’t hone it whatsoever. You looked at it as if it’s just another arm that grew out of your body. Like grabbing a bag of chips from across the room, you’d shoot spider webs out to get it without standing.

Despite living your life as privately as you could, somehow, the Kaiju Defense Force was still able to find you. So here you are now, in their headquarters.

You stood there, arms crossed. “I’ve told you before, Dr. Onda,” you said. “I’m not looking to be a hero. I just want to be left alone.”

Dr. Onda, chief officer of the KDF, and old acquaintance of your parents, leaned forward. “I know. But this isn’t about heroism,” he replied. “This is a highly sensitive mission and you’re the only one who can pull it off.”

"And why should I care?" you replied coolly. "What's in it for me?"

"Payment, of course. A substantial one. Enough to ensure you can continue living the peaceful life you desire without any further interference from us,” Dr. Onda answered.

“And more importantly, it's a one-time deal. Complete this mission, and you'll never hear from the KDF again."

Your face expressed a guarded neutrality but inside, you found it so tempting—the promise of financial security and freedom from future obligations.

“What’s the job?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

Dr. Onda tapped a few keys on his desk console, and a holographic image of a baby kaiju appeared, rotating slowly.

“It’s an entity of importance for the goals of KDF to be fulfilled,” he said. “Recently, it fell into the hands of Kenji Sato. We need you to retrieve it and bring it back to us.”

You studied the hologram, noting the details. "And how exactly am I supposed to move a 20-foot-tall kaiju baby without causing a scene?"

Dr. Onda leaned back, a small smile playing on his lips. "We have a special containment unit designed specifically for it. It's portable and can be deployed with your help. Your task is to get close enough to activate it and secure the kaiju.”

"And the payment?" you pressed.

Dr. Onda named a figure that made your eyes widen slightly. It was more than enough to ensure your financial independence for years to come.

"Alright," you said finally. "I'll do it. But remember, this is a one-time deal. After this, I want nothing more to do with the KDF."

Dr. Onda smiled, “You have my word."

You turned to leave but paused at the door, and glanced back. "I hope you're right about this, Dr. Onda,” you said. “Because if this goes sideways, I won't be the one paying the price."

Going back to the present—here you are, in Kenji Sato’s basement, trapped in a cylindrical glass containment unit, similar to the one the baby kaiju you were supposed to retrieve was held in.

A floating spherical robot circled around you. “We knew they would send someone,” it said in a mechanically feminine voice.

Suddenly, it projected a red light over your body, scanning you. “But I didn’t expect a spider-woman.”

You pressed your hands against the glass, testing its strength. "Nice trap," you said. “But it's going to take more than that to keep me here."

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” a voice came out of nowhere. Turning around, you see THE Kenji Sato with an eyebrow raised and his gaze locked with yours.

The biggest mystery that bothered you upon accepting this mission was how the hell did this famous baseball star had a giant baby in his basement.

You leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest. "So, what's the plan, Kenji? Keep me here forever?” you asked. “Or do you have something else in mind?"

Kenji smirked. "Depends. Why are you here?"

"Why do you think?" you replied, your tone flirtatious. "I was sent to retrieve that kaiju baby. But now, it seems I've found something else worth my attention."

Kenji's eyes narrowed slightly, "And what might that be?"

You gave him a slow, knowing smile. "You, of course,” you answered. “You're much more interesting than a simple retrieval mission."

Kenji chuckled, though he tried to hide it. "Flirting isn't going to get you out of there."

"Maybe not," you conceded, stepping closer to the glass, "But it does make this whole situation a lot more entertaining, don't you think?"

Kenji took a step closer, his eyes studying you. "You're not what I expected."

You tilted your head, your smile widening. "Good. I'd hate to be predictable."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you sized each other up. Finally, Kenji spoke. "You know, if you weren't here to take Emi, we might have been able to get along."

"Oh, I think we still can," you said, your voice low and seductive. "Besides, I never said I was strictly here for Emi."

Kenji looked at you, his expression softening just a fraction. "And what if I let you out?"

You pressed yourself against the glass, your eyes locked on his. "Then maybe, just maybe, we can help each other."

Kenji pondered this for a moment before shaking his head. "Nice try,” he said. “But I need to know more about you before I make that decision."

"Fair enough," you replied, leaning back once more. "But remember, Kenji, sometimes the spider catches more than just her prey."

Kenji turned away, a small smile playing on his lips. "We'll see about that."

You didn’t wanna include this in your escape plan because things rarely went according to plan. But in your mind, you noted: flirt, make him fall for you, and escape.

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

@moonlight-starlight-lady01 @eternallyvenus @puppyminnnie @wattpadsuckssohard @sakura-onesan

[sunflowergirl522]

Big Guy

Pairing: Hockey Player!Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Short!Sunshine!Reader

Summary: You and your friends move into a house for the new semester of college to find out a group of team members from The Avengers, your schools hockey team, are also moving in right next door. You become fond of the big guy on the team and he becomes fond of you. Also Bucky is 6'4 and beefy in this because I say so.

Word Count: 20K

A/n: I feel like the ending is a little rushed so if it feels that way to you guys please know it was because I couldn't wait to share this with you.

Masterlist

“I still can’t believe your mom bought you a fucking house.” Wanda says to Kate after the two of you get out of her car and greet your other friends who both beat you there after breakfast.

“I know! Rich parents who knew?!” Kate’s mom had bought her a house after finding out how many dorm parties went on on your floor alone, deciding she’d be able to focus more if she was away from all of that. “Y/n, I can’t wait for you to see the kitchen you’re going to just fall in love.”

“Is it big?” Your eyes light up at the idea of baking and cooking in a big kitchen instead of the small barely there kitchen in the old dorm. Kate just zips her lips before popping open the trunk of her car with a press of a button. You all ignore the sound of the motorcycle and other cars pulling into the driveway next door as you fall into easy conversation and start unpacking boxes from trunks. 

“I’m gonna warn you, the inside is a bit of a fixer upper.”

“How?”

“It’s just so boring and plain. Yels is honestly going to have so much fun decora-” Her word turns into a shriek as she backs up from the door instead of opening it. Unknowingly drawing attention from the men next door.

“What’s wrong?” You don’t stop till you see it and then you freeze where you are. There next to the door under the porch lamp is a spider, its long legs working on spinning its web. In reality it’s probably smaller than what you and Kate are seeing it as because your arachnophobia is almost paralyzing and hers is only just a little better. After being frozen in place for a minute you drop the box you’re holding before rushing off the porch.

“Guys, it’s just a spider just squish it.” Wanda says while stopping next to you and not making a move to do it herself.

“Why are we all stopped?” Yelena joins the two of you then after stacking bags on her shoulders and stacking two boxes in her arms. When you look at her like she’s crazy she shrugs. “I don’t want to make a lot of trips.”

“What’s going on over here ladies?” One of your new neighbors makes his way over and you recognize him as Sam Wilson from your school's hockey team and the man dead set on winning Wanda’s heart.

“There’s a spider blocking the damn door.” Kate answers, turning around then to face the four of you. Sam’s mouth forms an O and Wanda turns as she hears a familiar car pull up and park next door.

“Pietro?!” She yells out as a greeting as he starts moving toward his twin. “Get your ass over here and do your brotherly twin duties and kill this spider!” You know for a fact that he was always the designated spider killer in their home growing up because he was even in the old dorm. Even though Yelena and Wanda aren’t afraid of the arachnid like you and Kate they still freaked them out a bit so anytime there was a spider Pietro would have to come over and get it. You all have him on speed dial still from it. 

Before he can speed over there’s a slam from the porch drawing all of your attention to Bucky “The Winter Soldier” Barnes who jumped onto the porch unnoticed and slammed his motorcycle helmet against the porch wall effectively getting rid of the pest there. Your mouth gapes a little at his towering form, you’ve seen him on the ice when you’ve gone to Pietro’s games but being this close to him was something else because he was just so big. Tall and broad and just made of muscles.

“Can we get moving again?” He huffs out stomping back over to the cars parked in their driveway. 

“If you ladies need anything don’t hesitate to come a-knocking.” Sam sends a wink Wanda’s way before rushing over to help unpack cars.

“Can we get moving again?” You deepen your voice to mock Bucky’s grumpy tone, laughing after you speak and moving to the porch to pick your box back up. Pietro doesn’t go straight to helping his roommates and instead makes his way over to his twin to wrap her in a hug.

Kate unlocks the door and leads the way inside and you and Yelena look at each other before going to rush to pick rooms. 

“Guys wait, slow down. I sorta picked everyone's rooms out already.” Kate calls for you guys as you fight to get to the stairs first. How Yelena’s still so fast with carrying so much you’ll never know.

“That’s half the fun in a new house.” Yelena huffs out acting more annoyed than she is. 

“Yeah but as long as you’re living under my roof you’ll follow my rules. Oh I’ve always wanted to say that!” Kate claps with excitement. 

“Well unfortunate news the hockey numbskulls live next door so we have to deal with Pietro and his friends invading our space now.” She makes it sound like she’s unhappy with it but you know she’s thrilled to have Pietro so close by even if it means putting up with Sam’s flirting. 

“Let me show you guys your rooms and give you a tour before we finish getting stuff out of the car.” You follow in line behind Kate up the stairs like ducklings would their mother. “First up, Yelena’s room!” She spreads her hands to show the name tag she made out of construction paper on the first door with Yelena’s name written on it. “It’s not giant or anything but, you get a walk in closet.” She opens up another door once in the room to show off all the room inside. It’s a perfect pick for Yelena since she has the most clothes out of all of you. She places her stuff on the bed before going to check it out. “Every room has a bed, a dresser, and a desk. Anything else we decide we want I’m not above using my allowance to make the house more of a home.” Kate explains motioning towards each piece of furniture.

“Next up Wanda’s room!” Yelena stays back in her room for a minute mapping out the closet as you and Wanda follow Kate out. There’s another piece of construction paper on the door that she motions to again with a flourish before opening the door. “Lots of windows so you can have however many plants you can fit in here. Though obviously you can put them throughout the house too.”

“Oh Kate, this is awesome! I’m gonna get so many different monstera and peperomia.” 

“And now for the showstopper, Y/n here’s your room.” You follow her out of Wanda’s room and to the last bedroom. You smile at your name on construction paper before she opens the door to the biggest room yet. “You have plenty of room to put bookshelves around and the best part is…” She trails off as she opens the door to the attached bathroom. “Tada! Your own personal shower and everything. Figured you’d be doing like all the cooking so you should get the room up here with its own bathroom. Oh! But also there’s this.” She rushes towards the window that faces the back yard and opens it up before opening the screen too. “You can go lay or sit on the roof whenever you want because it's flat and sturdy enough here.”

“Kate you’re the best you know that right?”

“I know. Now let’s recollect everyone and finish the tour.” 

She shows you guys the bathroom for Yelena and Wanda to share that has two sinks and a separate door inside that gives the toilet its own privacy before taking you all downstairs. The living room is to the left of the stairs when you’re coming down and it’s completely empty and the dining room is on the other side with just a round table and four chairs. She explains how Yelena has free reign to decide how to decorate it and that her mom sent her back with a credit card specifically for getting furniture and whatnot, which Yelena took from her hand and pocketed immediately excited to start shopping after getting her stuff inside. Upon actually entering the dining room your mouth drops at the beautiful big kitchen that it opens up to.

“Kate, what the hell?” You run your hands over the finished butcher block top of the island as you take it all in. The kitchen takes up basically the whole back of the house with glass doors that lead out to the patio once the counters end. The counter space is insane and you’ll definitely have enough room to spread out while you bake or cook.

“I know! I told my mom that the only thing we needed other than the four bedrooms was a big kitchen and did she deliver or what?!”

“Go Eleanor!” Wanda cheers, swinging an arm around your shoulder, taking it in with you while Yelena opens a door to a walk-in pantry and then the other door that leads to a laundry room.

“Kate, where's your room?” You ask as you realize there’s not another room on this floor.

“I’m taking the whole basement. It’s finished with its own complete bathroom and I figured I could practice archery down there too. I’m gonna go get the rest of my stuff out of the car.” Wanda turns and follows her out and Yels stops to look at you before following them as if to ask ‘are you coming’.

“Go ahead Yels. I wanna peek in all the cupboards and cabinets first.” She nods and leaves you to it.

Bucky was getting Sam's last box when he looked over and noticed you for the second time that day. You’re swinging a bookbag on and closing the now empty trunk of a car before turning and picking up the duffle bag next to you. He can practically see the gears turning in your head as you stare at the big box on the ground, hands on your hips, bag getting ready to slide down your arms. His feet are moving before he even decides to do anything.

“Oh, thank you!” Your surprised but cheery voice greets him as he picks up the box for you. You expect him to hand it to you but he just gestures with his head for you to lead the way to the house. “Oh!” It’s silent for a couple seconds before you start talking again. “I’m Y/n. You’re Bucky right? You’re on the hockey team with Pietro.” He nods to answer your question. “Thank you for killing the spider earlier and for this. You’re a real knight in shining armor.” You motion towards the box as you walk up the steps of the porch. He nods again, adjusting the box so he can open the door and hold it for you. You’re small compared to him he takes in and realizes as you squeeze past him into the house. 

“I said I would be right out to help you, what are you doing?” Yelena comes around the corner from the dining room to yell at you for getting the rest of your stuff by yourself just to stop short at seeing Bucky with your box in his arms. “Barnes.” They nod to each other in greeting.

“It’s okay Yels, Bucky helped. Thank you again!” You thank him again as Yelena takes the box from his arms and heads straight up the stairs to put it in your room and you rush to follow her waving to him as you do.

Bucky looks at your back like you’re crazy for just leaving him, a stranger, alone in your entryway. He could be anyone or do anything. He shakes his head before leaving, shutting the door behind him and getting back to the lone box in the back of Sam's truck.

“Okay so you want a green kitchen? I can work with that.” Yelena is sitting at the island on her laptop across from you as you knead the bread dough you’ve been working on. She’s been asking you how you want the currently too white kitchen to look and all you’ve really been able to tell her is you want it to be green. “What about this?” She waits to turn her laptop around until you’re done spraying your bowl and you look up as you put the dough in it for its first rise. “Sage green on the cabinets and island but cream colored walls?”

“I like the sage green. You don’t think the cream will be too bland?”

“If it is, I'll paint you flowers or something all over the walls to help fit with your cottage kitchen dream.” Wanda sits next to Yelena in the seat she had originally pulled over for you.

“In that case that’s exactly what I want Yels. The cream and sage green make it happen.” You uncover the first two loaves of bread you started making from their second rise then put them in the preheated oven. “Okay, you get me for thirty minutes, let's find a couch we can collapse on.”

Wanda yells down the basement stairs for Kate before you all go sit on the floor in the living room surrounding Yelena’s laptop.

“Printesa! What did we do to deserve you stopping by?” Pietro opens the door and greets you after you knock. The nerves that were filling your body at not knowing who would answer disappear at the familiar nickname.

“I have gifts!” You hold out the picnic basket in front of you to show it. Pietro can smell the freshly baked bread from the closed basket and quickly ushers you into the house.The set up is similar to your own, their kitchen is smaller though you notice as he leads you straight there.

“What’s going on here?” Sam who was sitting at their table with take out follows the two of you. Bucky looks over from where he was filling his bottle up at the fridge surprised to see you standing in his kitchen.

“I made a thank you present for taking care of the spider yesterday.” And for helping with the box but you don’t say it, you just look at Bucky as you speak and hope it translates. “I don’t really know what hockey players can eat during the season. Are you guys technically in your season? I don’t even know but anyway typically I would make cookies or brownies or something and if it was just Piet I would’ve because he cheats all the time.”

“You’re yapping Printesa.” He only interrupts you because of how you just outed him in front of his teammates. Normally he enjoys listening to you ramble on. He hopes you know that, you do and if you didn’t the look he shoots your way of ‘stop snitching’ would be all you needed to know that’s the only reason he tells you to shut up.

“Right, sorry.” You send a sheepish smile his way and open the basket starting to pull out all of the sandwiches you had made earlier. “Anyway I figured sweet treats were a no go so I made a bunch of sandwiches for you guys. There’s ham and turkey and salami and chicken. Some have lettuce and tomato, others don’t because I don’t know what everyone likes." There's a warmth in Bucky’s chest as he watches you all smiles continue to pile sandwiches on the counter for him and his teammates. Sandwiches you had made just for them trying to make sure there was something for everyone. He’s almost positive he’ll be able to taste the care you put in making them. He steps closer to study you while Sam abandons his food completely to find one he wants to eat. “Oh! And one grilled cheese just for you Piet.” You had the tupperware container that was at the bottom of the basket to the twin next to you and he fist bumps before opening up to eat it while it was still warm. He groans as he takes a bite of it.

“Your bread is always the best!” You can feel your face heat up at the often told compliment still not able to take it. Your ‘thanks’ is quiet not wanting to draw attention to it.

“Wait, did you make the bread?” You nod to answer Sam. “That’s so cool if this is what we get when we kill spiders, come over or call whenever you have one. Buck write down all our numbers for her.” Bucky rolls his eyes at Sam but goes over to the fridge to rip a piece of paper from the notepad magnet anyway.

“Sam, please tell me you’re not leaving food out already. Oh, hello. Steve Rogers.” He holds his hand out for you to shake and sends you one of his famous smiles.

“Hi! Y/n Y/l/n. I brought sandwiches.” You gesture to the piles beaming at him while you do. Your phone vibrates then and you turn back to the basket to pull it out. “Oh, would you look at the time? I gotta get back before Yels picks a bad dining room table.” She could never but you all love to tease and joke that she would without all of you. You collect the basket and wave to the men in the kitchen. “Enjoy boys!” No one pays that much attention as you leave except for Bucky, who realizes that A you’re leaving without the numbers Sam made him write down and B Pietros a dick for not seeing his guest out, but what else was new really.

A hand on your shoulder stops you on your way to the door, the warmth of it seeping into your skin. When you turn around your nose almost bumps into a chest so you quickly take a step back and look up to look at Bucky’s face. Your breath hitches a little at just how much bigger he is than you and you hope he doesn’t notice, he does. He holds out the list of numbers for you to take and you do, not noticing the way that your fingers brush his, he does though.

“I can’t believe I almost left without this privileged information.” You lay it gently in your basket while Bucky examines you like you’re a piece of art which you might as well be. You’re beautiful in the way that sunbeams peaking through clouds or trees are beautiful. He has a momentary vision of you sitting in the secluded field of flowers, one he often visits to be alone, and basking in the warmth of the sunbeams that he so often does. You say bye to him again breaking him out of whatever trance he was just in and turn to keep leaving.

“Thank you. For the food.” His deep hesitant voice stops you in your tracks as you open the door.

“Anytime big guy! I’ll text ya!” You wink at him and then you're gone. Bucky can’t help the small smile that forms on his face before turning and going up to his room to finish getting ready for the gym.

You end up making a group chat, called ‘The Spider Killers’ with the numbers you were given and your household so they can all get each other's numbers and if you guys need one of them you could just message the chat. That way if only one person is home you’re not just going from person to person. Kate is quick to ask if you, her, and Wanda can hang around their house the next couple days because Yelena got painters to agree to come paint rooms in the house on short notice so when the furniture gets delivered no one has to worry about covering them. Which Wanda added before anyone can say anything that even if it’s a no Pietro will still let you all in at the same time that you said you’d cook everyone dinner if it’s a yes. Steve and Sam both agreed, Pietro jokingly said no and for Wanda to check on her twin attachment issues, Bucky didn’t respond. Which you took as him saying yes because surely if he had a problem with it he’d say so. 

Yelena’s going to stay behind at the house to make sure they’re using the right shades of colors she wants and to help where she can. One of her favorite things about decorating and renovating is the hands-on stuff and you love to joke that you’ll see her on her own show one day and she’ll have to introduce you to Chip and Joanna. And while you’d be glad to help everyone knows that inevitably you’d trip and spill a paint can the way you did helping Kate paint the archery range purple. Kate and Wanda just want to let the professionals be the ones to take care of it.

“What do you want, Sam?” Bucky finally answers his phone as he steps off the treadmill from his cool down sprint. This is the third time he’s called after sending a few texts asking where stuff is in the kitchen that Bucky’s been ignoring knowing that everyone else is home.

“Can you pick up pasta sauce on your way back? We need it for dinner.” There’s only what Bucky can describe as chaos in the background with muted yelling and he’s pretty sure the Mario Kart music coming from the tv.

“You couldn’t just text me that?”

“You weren’t answering your texts. And we’re in the middle of a very competitive grand prix so we can’t leave to get it. No, I don't want to hear it! I’m pretty sure you’re using smart steering when we said it wasn’t allowed!” Sam gets distracted with an in person discussion making Bucky grimace as his voice raises in his ear moving the phone away from it as he does.

“Fine, I'll bring back sauce.” He’s not sure if Sam is paying attention or if he hears him at all before hanging up on him.

When he does get home he goes straight to the kitchen without looking in the living room, his headphones thankfully blocking out whatever yelling was going on. He’s had to be around for too many of these things that Sam and Pietro get too into and it’s even worse if they get Joaquin over to play with them. But since he doesn’t hear anything or look in where he would’ve found Wanda trying to distract Sam so Kate could beat him nothing can prepare him for looking up and finding you in the kitchen. He was digging the damn sauce out of his bag and putting it on the counter when he looked up and over to see you looking at him expectantly.

“What?” He asks as he takes his headphones out cringing a little hoping it didn’t come out as rude as it sounded to himself. Your face contorts as if you just realized something mouth forming an ‘oh’ before you’re beaming up at him.

“I was just saying hi big guy. I hope you didn’t drive with those in, that’s dangerous you know. Oh! You brought the pasta sauce, Sam said he was gonna take care of that.” You grab the jar when you notice it turning it around to examine it. Bucky suddenly finds himself hoping he got the correct one and wishing he put a little bit of effort into picking a jar instead of grabbing the first one he recognized.

“Sam taking care of it was bothering me to do it.” His voice is gruff and annoyed but he’s less annoyed about getting the sauce since it was for you.

“Well, thank you. Normally I would make my own sauce but when I’m feeling a little lazy with it I just get a jar.” You whisper the second half of the sentence like it’s a secret only the two of you know.

“What are you doing here?” Your smile falls a bit at his roughly asked question and he has the immediate urge to punch himself in the face, an urge he doesn’t exactly understand.

“Did you not see the texts yesterday? Everyone else okayed us coming over.”

“Muted the chat when it started blowing my phone up at the gym.” Which he only did after saving the numbers he didn’t have and putting the sun emoji next to your name.

“Oh.” It’s the saddest oh he’s ever heard and it makes him immediately start racking his brain to find out how to make it better. “Well we have painters over our place today and tomorrow so we’ve been here to stay out of their way. But if you have a problem with it we can go somewhere else to-”

“It’s fine. Come back tomorrow.” Your smile comes back full force and before you can start thanking him Kate’s calling you into the living room to see how she beat Sam. Bucky’s left alone in the kitchen for a minute before he swings his bag around his shoulder and heads up to his room to empty it out. When he comes back downstairs he heads straight back to the kitchen seeming to know that’s where you would be without even looking.

“Hello again!” Your chipper voice greets him without you turning around from the stove where you’re cooking the beef for the meat sauce part of your spaghetti. “Can you get the pasta out of my tote on the island?” He does as you ask and brings both boxes over to you placing them on the counter next to the stove. He goes looking for a big pot to boil water in next. “Are you gonna help me?” You ask when you notice what he’s doing, eyes on him as he starts to fill the pot up with water. 

“Yeah why not?” He shrugs his answer and he’s rewarded with your beaming smile again, his world gets just a little bit brighter with it. 

“I wish I had my phone on me. We’d have some music while we work then but I left it at the house by accident and I didn't want to get in the way of the painters to go get it.” Bucky doesn’t think about it before he pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens Spotify before holding it out for you.

“Put whatever you want on.” 

“How was your day?” You ask after putting the soundtrack to Howl’s Moving Castle on for background noise wanting to also talk with the grump next to you while you work together.

“Okay.” 

“Come on, give me something more than that.” You tease him. “What did you do all day?”

“You’re nosy aren’t you?” He’s teasing right back and maybe he’s a little flirty with it too. It gets you to laugh and he absolutely relishes in the sound of it, immediately wanting to get you to do it again.

“And you don’t like to talk much huh? That’s okay though I’m known to talk enough for the both of us.”

“I worked and then went to the gym.” He answers your original question after a moment of silence. You light up more than you already were, which Bucky almost can’t believe is possible the same way he’s having a hard time believing that that reaction happened just because he told you something small about himself.

“Where do you work?”

“The rink. It’s nice pay and I can use the ice whenever I want.” It’s where most of the hockey team worked because of being able to go in before and after hours to run drills. That and they’re good at working schedules around practice and games.

“Ooo that’s cool. You know I’m actually the worst at ice skating? Piet tried to teach me once a couple years ago but I got away from him and fell and hit my head real hard on the ice so we weren’t there long.” Bucky fills with anger quickly at the thought of Pietro, or anyone really, letting you fall on the ice. It doesn’t matter if you were far away from him, if you were unsteady on your feet he should have been right next to you. “I’m actually really good at roller skating though, well good as in in comparison to on the ice. It’s probably because the wheels are set up differently because I’m just as bad at roller blading. Honestly I should probably just not be on wheels or blades, it’s safer that way.” You laugh at yourself as you drain the meat and add it to the sauce you had heating up on the stove. The sound relaxes him and he focuses on dumping the noodles in the now boiling water.

There’s a knock at the door then and Sam yells for Bucky to get it because they’re in the middle of a race. He grunts before going to see who’s at the door causing you to chuckle to yourself. The change from seemingly almost normal guy who talks back to grump is incredibly amusing to you. You can hear the muted greetings before someone enters the kitchen behind you.

“Smells good in here.”

“Yels! How’s my kitchen looking?” You hug your friend as she stops next to you.

“It’s not started yet. The living room is done and the dining room has one coat, the second and the kitchen are getting done tomorrow. And then the couch and stuff should be here Thursday.”

“I’m so excited to go back and see how it’s turning out! Kate and Wanda are playing Mario Kart with Sam and Pietro if you want to go get them all. Dinner’s almost done.” She nods and gives you another side hug before heading to get everyone and leaving you to make sure the pasta is fully cooked and draining it.

When everyone is seated with their food in front of them you catch yourself sneaking glances at Bucky to see his reaction to it while also trying to accept Sams and Pietros compliments on it without feeling like your face is gonna catch on fire. Dinner goes by with easy conversation and it’s almost like you’ve all known each other forever. Which is only really true for you, Wanda, and Pietro who you've been friends with since high school. Kate and Yelena quickly joined your close knit friend group freshman year of college and now it would be nice to include Piet’s closest teammates to it.

“Tomorrow we can play Mario Party instead.”

“Tomorrow you’re all going to the gym to get ready for the start of the season.” Bucky interrupts Pietro’s plans and his two teammates immediately begin listing reasons they have to stay back. Sam insists they’re fine and can skip just one more day and Pietro insists they have to be at the house to keep the three of you company. 

“Buck’s right. We’re all gonna hit the gym tomorrow.” Steve says as he enters the room having gotten home from his own shift at the rink when Bucky brought it up.

“But what about the girls?” Sam’s hands spread to motion at the four of you from his spot on the floor since there weren’t enough chairs.

“I’ll stay back. I’m the only one who’s actually been going regularly.” Bucky announces getting up with his empty dish and taking yours on his way to the kitchen.

“This is so unfair.” Sam and Pietro both pout like kids, their heads both hitting the wall as they throw them back with groans causing you to burst out laughing and a smile to show up on Bucky’s face. One he’s glad no one can see as he faces the sink.

The next day after Bucky lets the three of you in he excuses himself so he can finish unpacking, which had been his original plan for the day before he knew you’d all be there. And you, Wanda, and Kate play five hundred with the cards you brought. You keep an eye out the whole time you play in case you spot Bucky coming downstairs so you can ask him if he wants to play too. You wanted to go search him out when he disappeared up the stairs before you had a chance to ask him but didn’t want to invade his space if he didn’t want you to. You guys play a couple rounds before you leave your friends to continue playing to go curl up on the couch with your book. 

“Pietro said they’re bringing pizza home so you don’t have to worry about cooking anything.” Wanda collapses next to you on the couch and you put the sticker you use as a bookmark in between the pages to mark your spot before closing it.

“Did you just leave Kate in there to clean up?”

“Loser had to.” She shrugs and lays her head on your shoulder before you can get up to go help your other friend. “How’s your book?” 

“Good like always.” You’re rereading one of your all time favorites before going back to your to be read pile. “Why are they bringing pizza?”

“Something about them working up an appetite at the gym and not wanting to wait for food. Honestly I’d bet you any money Pietro starts eating it on the way home.”

“I wouldn’t bet against you. He can’t even wait before digging into takeout bags even if we’re ten minutes away from eating.” 

“Are you guys talking about your twin's annoying habit of eating all my fries?” Kate comes in with a mock annoyed expression on her face as she sits next to Wanda. 

“I see you’ve all made yourselves at home.” Bucky says as he comes downstairs to find you all on the couch, your friends watching something on the tv and you back to your book glancing up here and there to watch with them. His words come out with the only emotion behind them being annoyed when he couldn’t be any less. He’s enjoyed hearing your laughter float through the floorboards to be his music while finally unpacking. And he thoroughly enjoys seeing you comfortable in his space especially when you look up and give him a dazzling smile, one that rivals the glimmer of sun on water.

“Hey Bucky! Where have you been hiding all day? You missed all the fun of five hundred.” You fake a pout but it doesn’t stay long enough for Bucky to offer playing now to get you back to smiling. “The guys are bringing home pizza by the way. I think they’re on their way back now.” Bucky knows that they’ve been texting him about what pizza to get and in Pietro’s own words make sure the girls don’t have cards all over the table because they’re digging right in.

“Okay.” You open your mouth to say something else to him but Sams barging into the house yelling about it being dinnertime before you can. Bucky glares at his friend because of it which no one thinks twice about because of how often it happens. 

“Boy am I glad I didn’t take that bet.” When Pietro comes in with a slice of pizza already halfway eaten in his hand you nudge Wanda and the two of you start laughing. He soon joins the three of you in the living room, placing a box of pizza on the coffee table and making you scoot over so he can sit on the other side of you.

“So what are we watching?”

“Put on Step Brothers. Speedball here hasn’t stopped quoting it all day.” Sam says as he comes in to sit on the other couch his plate piled with slices in hand. 

When Yelena comes over later to let you guys know the painting is officially done you’re all in the living room except for Bucky who’s pretending to scroll on his phone in the dining room where he’s actually just watching you and how you throw your head back laughing at the movie.

You’re obsessed with the kitchen and you make sure Yelena knows that as soon as you see it. But the light brown she picked for the living room is going to suit it nicely and the bachelor blue, the name of which you only remember because of Kate making a joke about you all being bachelors, the dining room is doesn’t clash with the colors of the kitchen. Something you were nervous about with how it just opens straight up to it. You had even told Yelena that she could change the colors of the kitchen if it didn’t work but she insisted it would, you should’ve believed her. 

Yels more than anything though was excited to show you all the surprises she had. She had painted all of your rooms, hiding it successfully with her ploy of having all of you sleep in the basement with Kate for a sleepover in the new house the previous night and making sure to save her room for last. Kate got a light purple, her favorite color and it matches her archery uniform. Wanda got a whiter room, so the walls can reflect light better for her plants. And you got a nice shade of what you would just call orangey red but Yelena called red earth, she said it fits with you well and she would’ve given you a yellow room if she didn’t hate all the options she was shown so much. It’s safe to say you’re all as obsessed with your rooms as you are how the kitchen turned out.

The next couple days are hectic and full of chaos as furniture starts getting delivered. The table and chairs for the dining room come first and you’re pretty sure none of you were ready for it to be so big that the delivery men would have to carry it around the house and through the sliding glass door in the back. The lift top coffee table for the living room comes that same day just a little later. The couch and the tv stand don’t come until the next day both at different times and the couch took the delivery men a hot minute to get all inside the house. It was exhausting watching them go back and forth and you were all glad that it was the last furniture delivery until someone decides they need something else.

The minute they were gone and the giant sectional was the way you all wanted it you piled onto it and laid there joking about ‘if only there was a tv’ and ‘why did we get a coffee table if we can’t even reach it’ ‘we should’ve just gotten a bar table to go behind the couch’ and ‘well we still could’. You and Wanda actually fall asleep on the couch that night after being up late reading together and are woken up the next morning by Kate, who starts talking about going shopping after breakfast to get a tv and couch blankets.

Shopping takes you guys the whole day and you were glad that you and Wanda took her car instead of all taking Yels. Kate ends up getting the biggest tv she could find for the living room and insisting that it’s a necessity that there’s one in each of your rooms even though you all agree that that’s a little overkill. She had just said to suck it because she was the one with the money and stuck her tongue out. You’re pretty sure the employee who helped load them into Yelena’s Jeep thought Kate was crazy. 

Yelena picks out probably, definitely, too many different blankets for the couch and a big storage basket to keep the ones not in use. That alone took forever to the point that you and Kate had walked away from her and Wanda and when you came back they were still picking some out. While they did that though you and Kate picked out stuff for the two of your private bathrooms and the shared half bath downstairs. You know better than to try to pick stuff out for Yelena’s and Wanda’s. 

And to finish shopping off Kate tells Wanda to go crazy in a plant nursery. Where she basically pulled a Ron Swanson in Home Depot when an employee came up to ask if she needed any help. Her car ends up being almost overflowing with plants and pots and potting soil while everything else gets shoved into Yelena’s.

The first few days of classes go by without a hitch but also without much excitement. Every class is just going over the syllabus and getting out early. It was nice if not a little redundant. It helps that you share some classes with Wanda, she always helps make the boring days better. Wednesdays and Thursdays you don’t have any with her though after going without knowing anyone in your Wednesday classes you sort of started to dread your Thursday ones, knowing that it was likely to be dull too. That is until you look up from your laptop in your Directed by Women film class at the sound of a familiar voice.

“Bucky! Sam!” You wave to them from your seat in the back of the room as they come in the door to your right. Bucky prevents the smile from forming on his face as he takes you in and immediately goes to sit next to you wanting both to get away from Sam’s rambling about how this class will definitely give him brownie points with Wanda and to get the seat before anyone else can. You laugh as Sam shoves past his friend to get there first, happy to see you as much as you’re happy to see them. And in order to sit next to both of them you move over a chair leaving Bucky with the seat in the corner next to the window. “Did Pietro also convince you guys to take an easy A film class?”

“Yeah.” Bucky answers you not noticing the way your gaze stays on him the whole time he sits and you ask the question as he busies himself with getting his own laptop out.

“So…is it safe to assume that since you’re here that-”

“No Wanda took the Zombie media one with Kate and Yelena. I would’ve too but I love Greta Gerwig and I was curious to see if Twilight would be part of the curriculum.” You look back at the syllabus you pulled up on your screen then. “Honestly though this is a pretty stacked list of films and I’m excited to watch and dig into them.” Sam turns your laptop to face him rather than doing the work of pulling it up on his own. 

“Oh hey Twilight is on here.”

“I know!” You're all excitement as you exclaim it both because your new friends are in the class together and having one of your favorite comfort movies on the list. 

“I don’t know any of these.” Bucky speaks, grumbles really because he didn’t even pick this class he made Sam pick for him. It’s not that he’s mad about it, he’s more than ecstatic to see you in one of his classes, something he’ll never admit to anyone, but he thought Sam would put him in a class with movies he’s seen.

“What?” You turn towards him, the shock clearly written on your face. “How? Have you lived under a rock?”

“Bucky doesn’t watch movies.”

“I watch movies.”

“Yeah, boring long ones.” 

“Just because you and Pietro have the attention spans of flies doesn’t mean The Lord of the Ring movies are boring.” Bucky points at Sam, annoyed that they’re having this argument again.

“Steve doesn’t like them either, he's just too nice to say anything.” Bucky knows Sam is just trying to rile him up; he knows Steve likes them enough to watch them every once in a while.

“None of you have to watch them with me then.” You laugh at the two of them bickering and Bucky almost freezes completely when you turn your gaze to him, eyes shining at him.

“I’d watch them with you big guy. I like Lord of the Rings.”

“Yeah?” He’s almost breathless with the word, something Sam will definitely make fun of him about later.

“Yeah.” It’s then that Bucky smiles at you for the first time and your heart nearly leaps out of your chest because God is it a great smile and you’ve just decided that it’ll be your mission to get him to smile as much as possible from now on. Your teacher starts talking then and you have to forcibly pull your eyes away from the man next to you. That doesn’t stop him from watching you though, enjoying how you light up with excitement at what the curriculum is.

The next time you see Bucky is a couple days later when you’re sitting on the roof outside of your window leaning back on your hands as you watch the stars. You happened to glance over to see him in the window facing you at his desk working on something on his laptop. A smile graces your face and you find a bit of rubble next to you and ping it off of his window to get his attention, something you didn’t actually have to do because he had noticed you immediately when he sat down. And instead of reading an article for class like he was supposed to be doing he was studying how peaceful you look staring up at the sky. He never wished that he shared Steve’s talent for drawing till this moment when he wants to capture it and keep it for himself tucked safely away in a notebook.

When the piece of shingle hits his window he stops pretending to not be looking at you and makes a show of lifting his head away from the screen in front of him and towards you. You send him an enthusiastic wave, getting a quick wave of his hand in return before mouthing ‘wow’ motioning to the sky and then using your hands to show that you’re mind blown at the view. This causes him to let out a chuckle and you find yourself wishing you were able to hear it. His attention goes back to his laptop and you lay back again. When he finds himself getting distracted once more and getting another flash of a scene in his secret field with you laying next to him staring up at the sky that he knows has more stars in it at night than here he decides that this just won’t do if he can’t get any work done. The next night when you go out to the roof the first thing you do is glance over to find that Bucky’s moved his desk.

Tuesday you’re running late for class and in your rush to leave land on your ankle wrong going down the porch steps. It bends under your weight and you curse as you go down because of it. The pain in the moment leaves you to just see white and for a second you don’t feel anything before it hits you full force. Bucky who was getting back from the gym hears your exclamation and he’s over next to you before either of you know it.

“What happened?” His voice is full of worry, something you don’t notice as you grit your teeth at the pain.

“Nothing, just twisted my ankle a bit. I’m good.” Your voice doesn’t hold any of your normal cheery demeanor, it’s cold and dismissive, you don’t even call him big guy in greeting like you usually do, and Bucky can tell that it wasn’t just a bit. You grab onto the railing on the steps and pull yourself up to stand grimacing at the weight on your right foot before adjusting all of it to your left. Bucky notices immediately.

“How about we just sit down?” 

“No, I'm fine, I have to get to class. I’m running late already.”

“Oh no you don’t.” He doesn’t stand up to get in your way until you try walking away, almost falling as you half step on the ankle you just twisted. Your face contorts each time you try to put weight on it trying to sidestep him but failing each time.

“God, move Barnes!” Bucky’s eyes widen at your angry use of his last name before they narrow at you. Your own eyes widen at the look on his face and you can’t move away quick enough to avoid him throwing you over his shoulder just careful enough to not jostle your ankle too much. 

“Where are your keys?” 

“I threw them in a river. Put me down!” You yell at him wiggling around trying to get free so you can keep trying to head to class, which you do realize is a bad decision but you can’t start missing in just the second week. He moves up the steps and stops at the door.

“Stop being a fucking brat.” You freeze at his words and the growl in his voice as he says them, not sure how to feel about finding that as hot as you do. Your frozen state gives him the ability to fish out your keys from your jacket pocket and unlock the door. Before you know it you’re being dumped onto the couch and Bucky has one knee on it next to your feet while he unties your shoes to get them off. He’s gentle while he takes your right shoe off but more forceful with the left one. When his finger tips touch the top of your right sock you shoot up in a sitting position holding your hands out to stop him.

“Woah what are you doing?”

“I need to see how bad it is.”

“I told you I’m fine, it’s fine.” You seeth through clenched teeth annoyed that he won’t just take your word for it and leave you to your own devices. He responds with gentle pressure on your ankle causing you to gasp at the pain that shoots around it like a circle unable to contain it at how sudden it was. He immediately feels bad for causing you pain but he didn’t know any other way to get you to shut up and let him work.

“Yeah, no it’s not. Now will you let me make sure it’s just a sprain.” You huff and cross your arms leaning back letting him slowly, carefully peel your sock off grumbling about how it’s not sprained. He feels around your ankle and rotates it in a few circles analyzing your reactions to it all. “It’s not fractured but I’d say you definitely sprained it.” He stands then placing your foot down gently. “Stay there. Don’t. Move.” He puts emphasis on his words before turning and leaving the house.

Bucky lets out an aggravated sigh when he’s outside before rushing next door so he can grab his laptop and stuff to take care of your ankle hopefully before you decide to not listen to him and start trying to walk on it again. Why you’re being difficult about this he doesn’t know but he’ll make sure you listen to him about this. He knows from watching teammates and hearing about players in other sports just how bad a sprained ankle can be.

You roll your eyes at his demand as soon as the door shuts behind him. You mock him to yourself but listen to his words anyway at least for a little bit. But then you start to get hungry and he never said he was definitely coming back, though that could be heavily implied. You wait another minute listening for any movement on the porch and when there is none you smile and start to scoot your way off the couch before trying, and failing at first, to stand. You’re crossing in front of the entryway when the door opens again and you freeze, turning to look at Bucky’s hulking figure like a deer caught in headlights.

“What are you doing?” He eyes you down as he pauses in the doorway, your book bag that you dropped when you fell on one shoulder and his own bag on the other.

“Getting a snack.”

“Should’ve waited. Stay on your left foot.” He demands after shutting the door and going into the living room to put the bags down next to the couch.

“Stop telling me what to do.” You listen to him though regretting trying to walk to the kitchen.

“I’d be able to if you would’ve listened from the get go. Are you able to get back to the couch?”

“I’m hungry.” You shake your head in defiance and move your foot in a way that you slide closer to the dining room.

“Yeah, I’ll get you something. Can you get back to the couch or do I need to carry you to it again?”

“I’ve got it.” You shuffle slide on one foot for a bit before starting to limp back to the couch. “I wanted my sugar strawberries. They’re in the fridge in the glass container with the red lid. Oh and grab a spoon too.” You go back to the couch settling further in than you were before, your ankle hurting as you use your feet to push yourself into the corner of it. When Bucky comes back in he hands you the container and your spoon before bringing his bag up to rest next to him. He pulls out the bandage and the ice pack he brought over with him when he moves to grab your ankle you pull it back to you cringing as you do so.

“What are you doing now?” 

“Wrapping and icing your sprain.” He says it like it’s the most obvious thing which it probably is but you’re not used to people taking care of you like this.

“It’s fine I can do it.” You place the container behind you on the bar table you all did end up getting for behind the couch before holding your hands out. “Give it.”

“Why do you insist on fighting me?” Bucky’s voice is softer than it has ever been and it throws you off. “You’re hurt, just let me take care of you.” Something in his voice, probably the unspoken pleading, has you giving in and moving your ankle into his hold while you focus back on your snack. Bucky wraps the bandage snugly around your ankle before grabbing one of the big couch pillows and propping it up. You jump as the cold from the ice pack seeps through the bandage as soon as he puts it on.

“It’ll need to stay elevated.” He explains as he moves up the couch to sit next to you dragging his bag with him to get his laptop out. “I’ll check on the pack in a bit to take it off and put it in your freezer so you can use it again when it refreezes.” He reaches behind him and then hands you the tv remote that he had grabbed. You take it from him watching as he opens his laptop and pulls up his email without looking at you.

“Are…are you staying?” You ask in a  timid voice after a moment of silence not understanding why he would after you had just been so mean to him when all he was trying to do was help you.

“Yeah. Gotta make sure you don’t try walking on it again out of spite or stubbornness.” He glances at you with a half smile on his face so you know he’s partly joking having sensed a change in your previously hostile demeanor to a more somber one. He goes back to emailing his teachers about missing class. You turn on The Office for something to watch and the two of you are silent again for a bit.

“Thank you.” Your voice is quiet and you’re looking down at your slices of strawberries as you speak. Bucky might not have heard it if he wasn’t right next to you.

“For what?”

“Taking care of me. I’ve never really had anyone do that for me. In my house it was a very like take care of yourself and stay out of the way environment. So I’m sorry about being mean earlier.” A pang goes through Bucky’s heart thinking of you getting hurt and having no one to help you at any age.

“Nah you’re good. Weren’t even that mean, trust me I know mean. Besides you’re in pain we all lash out sometimes when that happens.” You laugh at that and it’s like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, happy to see you smiling again.

“Don’t I know it! You should see this place during shark week since we’re all synced up.” He smiles at you. 

When Bucky’s laptop is put away, the sugar strawberries are tried for the first time, and the ice pack is in the freezer you get him to bring you one of the big blankets and convince him to get under it with you. The two of you fall into easy conversation while you watch The Office and at some point you fall asleep on Bucky’s shoulder. When the girls get back to the house worried about why you weren’t in classes or answering your phone they find the two of you asleep, Bucky's arm wrapped around your shoulder, your head on his chest and the tv still going.

They debate with each other over whether or not they should wake you. Wanda wanting to to find out why you weren’t in class, Kate wanting to let you rest knowing how little you actually sleep, and Yelena getting her phone out to snap a picture to send the group chat. The flash that she forgot she had on causes you to stir as you begin to wake and for Bucky to immediately wake up a little disoriented because he’s not used to falling asleep in the middle of the day. But not moving too much so you can stay comfortable in your position if you don’t wake up. You need your rest and he knows from experience how much being in pain can zap the energy from your body.

“Girls.” He nods in a greeting, his voice hushed.

“Hey Bucky!” Kate exclaims before Wanda shushes her. Bucky glares because of the volume of her voice and you wake up all the way.

“Hey guys. What time is it?” You yawn as you speak and move to sit up straight.

“Close to four.” Yelena answers looking to see if the photo she had taken was ruined by the flash, it wasn’t.

“Oh my god I need to start on dinner. I should’ve put an alarm on or something but I didn’t think I’d pass out.” You move to get up but Bucky uses the arm around your shoulders to keep you back against the couch. Which doesn’t go unnoticed by your friends.

“How come you weren’t in class? Are you already skipping without me?” Wanda mocks being hurt from just the thought of you not skipping with her. 

“Oh!” You pull the blanket up over your feet so they can see your wrapped up ankle that’s still propped up on the couch pillow. “I twisted my ankle a little and Bucky demanded I stay off of it.”

“She sprained it.” He rolls his eyes as you undermine your injury again. “I don’t know how bad it is but I’m sure it’ll swell by the morning.” When he goes home he’ll have to talk to Sam about coming to confirm his thought of it being just a grade one sprain.

“I’m fine. I keep telling you.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes at him. “Wands remember when I rolled my ankle on the stairs the day before our graduation trip? It’s like that.”

“Oh so your ankle is fucked and you’re not fine.” She says remembering how much pain that time had caused you.

“You’ve done this before?” 

“I am too fine.” You ignore Bucky and focus on Wanda. “Remember I was walking around an amusement park two days later?”

“That doesn’t mean you were okay! Pietro and I even tried to get you to let us reschedule the whole trip but you were too stubborn. And your ankle hasn’t been the same since you roll it way more often than you did and there’s that weird clicking thing!”

“What weird clicking thing?”

“Oh do you wanna hear it’s so cool that it does this.” You answer Bucky this time ignoring Wanda as you begin to rotate your left ankle it clicking each rotation. “Sometimes there will be a really big one that hurts for a second.” You keep going and Bucky’s eyes widen as he hurries to stop you from doing it anymore. You flinch as you pull both feet up towards you to prevent him from doing it and Yelena snaps out of looking at her phone.

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“What?!”

“You’re not gonna be able to get up the stairs and Bucky’s right you need to rest it.” Yelena crosses her arms showing that there’s no debating with her but you still try.

“What if Bucky takes me upstairs like he brought me in here?”

“Unless Bucky wants to stay the night to make sure you can get back down here, because I know you won’t stay up there all day tomorrow, then no dice.” You light up and turn towards the man next to you.

“It could be like a sleepover! We can stay up all night and watch movies and gossip and snack.” He just stares at you, not quite sure how to react to your excitement of spending time with him which you take as him about to turn you down. “Please big guy, I just wanna be in my bed.” Your soft and a little sad voice does him in and he starts to get up off the couch. “Where are you going?”

“I didn’t exactly make an overnight bag when I originally came over. But you’re letting Sam take a look at your ankle when I come back.” He turns to go only catching a glimpse of your giant smile at his words.

“So what happened?” Kate asks after Bucky leaves sitting by your feet and bringing them into her lap so she can examine the wrap job on your ankle without you realizing because she knows you’d make a big deal about it if you did.

“I was rushing to my first class because I was running late and landed on my ankle wrong going down the porch steps.”

“When does Barnes come in?” Wanda takes Bucky’s previous spot as Yelena speaks.

“He saw it happen and then threw me over his shoulder like a neanderthal when I kept trying to go to class. And then he wrapped and iced it staying to make sure I didn’t walk around on it which was so unnecessary. He’s got a real attitude problem.”

“No babe, that's you.” Wanda pats your shoulder. “And I’m sure you’re leaving some parts of the story out to make yourself seem better. We know you get mean when something is wrong. We love you even with that though.”

“Well, well, well look who decided to come home. Did you have a nice nap?” Sam teases Bucky as soon as he sees him enter the house.

“How do you know I napped?”

“A little birdie told us.” He shows Bucky the picture of him and you on the couch that Yelena had sent the group text.

“Delete that. You need to come with me when I go back over to the girls place.”

“A, I can't, it's just in the messages now and B, why?” Sam follows his friend up stairs and to his room where he watches him start packing.

“Y/n sprained her ankle want you to make sure it’s not worse than I think it is.”

“Oh shit really?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before leaving to rush over hoping to God it wasn’t worse than Bucky thought. Bucky would’ve followed him, wanting to be there when he checks your ankle out, wanting to make sure he was gentle and doesn’t twist it too far any way to make you grimace the way you’ve been doing, but he has to make sure he doesn’t miss anything he’ll need because he knows he won’t be coming back once he gets you upstairs. But Sam being on his way over puts more of a rush in his movements.

Pietro and Sam show up at the house at the same time, the former only knowing what was wrong because he was getting home as Sam rushed out the door. He muttered a ‘Jesus Christ’ before just beating him to the door not bothering knocking. He remembers the last time you did this just as well as Wanda, how despite how in pain you were you still tried to do everything normally, how the only reason you hadn’t made food like the original plan had been was because he convinced you he had been craving chinese, how Wanda had to distract you while he got all the bags in the car so you wouldn’t insist on helping, and how they kept acting like they needed breaks at the stupid fucking amusement park you insisted on still going to just so they could get you off of the foot that was obviously bothering you. He knows that you’re stubborn and annoying and mean when someone shows the first hint of trying to, in your own words, baby you when they’re just trying to look out for you. He and Wanda have both been on the receiving end of that enough times that they figured out ways to do it secretly. 

“Printesa! Your favorite twin is here!”

“Oh god who told you?” You groan knowing that he only came in the way he did, rushing into the living room his gaze immediately going to you and then down to your ankle before back up, because he found out about your not a big deal injury.

“That you’re a klutz and messed up your good ankle? Sam.” He points his thumb over his shoulder at the man coming in behind him after shutting the door. “I’m feeling like pizza tonight! You guys want some? Great, I'll order it.” You miss the shared look he and Wanda have before he starts to talk and instead brush it off as Pietro just inviting himself over like you’ve been sure would happen from the start.

“Alright I’m gonna have to unwrap your ankle to check it out.” Sam sits next to Kate on the couch and you just nod and look away, biting your tongue instead of fighting him knowing this was Bucky’s one stipulation to him staying. And right now all you want is him close his presence helping you feel better for some reason, and it’s definitely not because of the urge to take care of you rolls off of him in waves or the crush you may or may not have on him.

Bucky enters the house in time to hear you going on to Sam about how your ankle really isn’t that bad. When you let out a yelp that cuts you off mid sentence he’s rushing into the living room. He finds Sam with your ankle in hand and your own hands covering your mouth wide eyed like you were shocked the sound came out of you. Everyone else’s eyes are wide and looking at you.

“What are you doing? I told you to check on her ankle not torture her.”

“I am checking on it, Buck. I didn’t even bend it that far.” Sam defends himself, sensing the energy around his best friend that emerges when he’s tempted to lose his shit on someone. The last thing he wants is for Bucky to hit him the way he's seen him do others.  “It’s not bruised right now and it looks only a little swollen. Keep an eye on it though because I’m sure it’ll balloon up compared to the other one overnight. You were right it looks like a grade one sprain but if it starts to bruise it might be a two.” He looks at you then. “Stay off of it as much as you can for the next two days, keep it wrapped and elevated. Icing it here and there wouldn’t hurt either.” He doesn’t say that if the pain ebbs quicker that you can walk around on it sooner sensing you’re the type to start lying about it that way, but he’ll make sure everyone else knows.

“Two days?!” You whip your head up to look at Bucky. “How trustworthy even is Sam?” The aforementioned man brings a hand to his heart and his face crumbles in a mock heartbreak. “I mean what gives him the right to decide what’s wrong with me?”

“He’s studying physical therapy and helps the nurse with our team during the season.”

“Oh. Still two days seems excessive, give me a night to sleep it off and I’ll be good as new!”

“Sorry, doctor’s orders.” Sam lightly pats your ankle before getting up. “Kate, can you wrap her ankle back up? If I'm late to relieve Steve at the rink he’ll make me do extra cardio in the gym.” Sam leaves then and Kate just gets up and hands the bandage to Bucky seeing the look on his face and recognizing it because it’s one that she sees a decent amount. One that shows the worry for you specifically after an injury whether it’s you cutting yourself in the kitchen or running into corners on furniture and a big bruise forming on your thighs or sides because of it. She’s seen it on Wanda’s and Yelena’s and even Pietro’s enough that even if it’s trying to be disguised she can see it.

“Pizza’s ordered!” Pietro comes back into the living room having hung back even after the pizza was actually ordered so he could ask Sam in hushed voices how bad it was, a conversation Kate and Yelena joined into and one you would’ve heard if you weren’t busy still insisting to Bucky that you were fine. Pietro takes a seat next to Wanda while Kate and Yelena pull the sections of the couch out to make room for the coffee table to fit in front of them. Bucky takes Kate's previous seat pulling your bad ankle into his lap and leaving your other to fall to the ground without the inner sections of the couch being there. 

“You wanna play five hundred?” Yelena asks, sitting on the opposite side of the table knowing that it’ll be a great way to distract you from your ankle. 

“Hell yeah I do!” You shoot up into a better sitting position at her words. Kate shuffles the cards and Pietro digs in the table for a notebook and pen to keep score. 

“I’ll keep score!”

“No you won’t.” Yelena snatches the notebook from his hands. “I’m not having you feed points to Wanda and Y/n again. Bucky can keep score.” She throws the notebook into Bucky’s lap who catches the corner of it before it can hit your ankle.

“How am I supposed to do that?” 

“You’ll just write our names down and after each round we’ll tell you how many points we’re gaining or losing and you’ll keep doing the math until someone reaches five hundred.”

“Pietro can’t be trusted because he adds on points to whatever those two say.” Kate chimes in after you finish explaining it, motioning with her head towards you and Wanda.

“You guys caught me one time!”

“And who knows how often you did it without us realizing!”

“And we had no idea that it was happening.” Wanda says in a way that tells everyone she definitely knew it was happening. Something everyone caught onto with how poorly she acted surprised when Kate and Yelena caught him. Neither of them know that you knew too and that it was your idea to begin with and the twins have yet to rat you out.

A pillow gets thrown at her which she hits straight into Pietro's face causing you to laugh. Bucky smiles at seeing the light come back into you after it being missing since your fall. It’s the smile and companion look on his face as he watches you that has Yelena snapping another picture to send the group chat later. It’s a look that tells her he’s already in deep for you whether he realizes or not and she’ll have to start plotting with Kate as soon as possible.

Kate ends up winning after battling for it with Wanda for a while. The pizza got delivered near the end of the game and sat on the dining room table ignored by everyone but Pietro until the final rounds finished. You all eat while watching the first Harry Potter movie at Wanda’s request. And when the pizza’s gone and the movie’s over Pietro takes the dishes into the kitchen and loads them into the dishwasher before saying his goodbyes. 

You argue with Bucky about how you’ll get upstairs hating that your friends side with him rather than saying you’d be fine to walk upstairs. It’s only when he threatens to throw you over his shoulder again that you give in and agree to hopping on his back. You hug the girls goodnight before begrudgingly letting Bucky help you climb onto the couch and latching onto him. You try to ignore the feel of his big hands looped under your knees to keep you steady and the warmth that seeps through your jeans from them, instead focusing on keeping your grip on his bag that he put in your hands so he could hold onto you and making sure your arms don’t end up choking him while you direct him to your room. Not that you needed to, you all still have your name tags that Kate made up. 

“You care if I use your shower doll?” Bucky asks after depositing you on your bed he had rinsed off in the gym when he was done but has yet to have a proper shower. The pet name slips out without him even noticing but it feels like a whole flight of birds has taken off in your stomach. All you can do is shake your head not thinking about how he can’t see you do it with his back still to you until he turns around giving you an expectant look, hands still rummaging through his bag to get clean clothes out. 

“Oh sorry no go ahead it’s right through that door.” You gesture towards it before bracing your hands on your bed to get ready to stand.

“Can I trust you not to move around while not in eyesight?” 

“I just wanna change while you’re in there and then I promise I’ll be back in bed.” You hold your pinky out and he follows your lead wrapping his bigger one around yours leaning his head down to kiss his hand the same time you do yours. “I can’t believe a big guy like you knows how to properly pinky promise!” You’re giddy with your excitement over seeing the giant man duck down to seal it with a kiss.

“I have a younger sister.” He shrugs before turning and heading into the bathroom, leaving you to adjust to the new information while you change into your pajamas, an old hockey jersey with Pietro’s number on it and sleep shorts. You’re tucked in bed with your current rewatch of The Nanny on when Bucky comes back out in sweats and a short sleeve shirt. It’s the first time his right arm and it’s sleeve of tattoos are on display for you. You can feel yourself staring wanting to know what they are but also ogling the way the shirt hugs his biceps before he breaks you out of your stupor.

“Nice shirt.” He nods his head in your direction as you look over at him where he’s shoving his stuff back in his bag. Your smile widens as you realize it’s an Avengers jersey from last season.

“Thanks! Piet gave it to me for being his number one fan! Of course then Wanda complained and we have matching ones now.” You stand quickly enough to stumble and wince at the same time to turn around and show Bucky the back with Maximoff across your shoulders and the number 73, the twins' birthday, underneath it. 

Before looking at it Bucky rushes over to steady you since your hands worry about holding up the shoulders to give him a better view of it instead of being free to catch yourself. When he does look up he has to ignore the acidic feeling eating away at his stomach at seeing Maximoffs name on your back when he wants it, needs it now that he knows it’s an option, to be his.

“Careful! Jesus it’s like you just have no self preservation instincts.” He changes the topic, hoping to ignore whatever jealousy there is for his teammate being close with you. 

His, big, hands on your hips guide you to sit back down and their warmth sinks in through your shorts and as soon as you’re sat back down you’re covering your legs with the blanket to hide the goosebumps along your flesh and squeeze your thighs together. You find yourself wondering how you’re going to survive the night next to him if this is how your body chooses to react to just the heat of his hands when you know for a fact that you’re a cuddler when you sleep despite trying otherwise. Yelena hates having to share a bed with you during your friend getaways because of it.

“What are you watching?” Bucky’s face scrunches up and his head turns to look at the tv as Fran laughs.

“The Nanny.”

“Why does she sound like that?”

“It’s part of her charm. Sit, I’ll start the show from the beginning since you’ve obviously never seen it.” You pat the bed next to you and grab the remote to go back to the first season before he can even think to argue about it. Not that he would, the excitement in your eyes was enough to sit next to you and be tortured by a nasally voice forever. Bucky finds it to be a trend in his life now to want to keep you happy. 

“As you wish.” He says as he slides in next to you causing you to gasp and look at him.

“Like from The Princess Bride?”

“The what?” Bucky knows what you’re referring to, he loves The Princess Bride. He however doesn’t want you to realize that he had meant it similarly to the way Westly meant it and hopes that you don’t notice his cheeks going pink like he’s sure they are at almost being caught.

“You know what, add it to the watch list. We have to educate you on film Mr. Only watches Lord of The Rings.”

“I don’t only watch Lord of The Rings.” Bucky groans in a joking way before letting out a chuckle and sending butterflies to your stomach. You have to force yourself to look back at the tv so he doesn’t catch you trying to memorize his smile but that doesn’t stop you from watching from your periphery and the smile never quite leaves his face the rest of the time you do.

You fall asleep around a season in after insisting you weren’t tired and you definitely weren’t yawning. Bucky can’t help but to smile at it when he notices you’ve dozed off. As he’s about to get up and use the light of the tv to find a spare blanket to move to sleep on the floor you move so your head rests on his lower chest. At first he freezes not sure what to do, even though the only difference between now and earlier is you’re in bed instead of on a couch, before he decides to just get comfortable. He slowly adjusts so he’s laying flat instead of in his propped up half sitting position making sure he jostles you as little as possible. Once he’s repositioned your head ends up resting closer to where his heart is than his stomach and his left arm stays laid out under your neck and shoulders. When your arm moves to wrap around his waist and pull him closer in your sleep, your body molding into the side of his, no one would be able to wipe the smile off of his face if they tried. Bucky falls asleep soon after arm wrapped around your shoulders and that smile still there.

Bucky wakes up first the next morning at first a little disoriented at the feel of another person in his arms and the smell of your strawberry shampoo surrounding him but once he finds his footing he holds you closer to him burying his nose further into your hair and adjusting his hips so you wouldn’t be able to notice his morning wood. It’s been a while since he’s woken up with anyone in bed with him or even held anyone the way he’s holding you and he makes sure to take the time to relish it because he’s not sure when the next time he’ll experience it again. He doesn’t fight the urge to go back to sleep for once until you start moving in his arms. 

You groan as you start to wake up and turn onto your other side wapping your arm around the object next to you. Which would normally be your pillow or the stuffed dog you’ve had since you were a kid so you freeze when it’s a warm body. As Bucky’s scent invades your senses when your nose gets buried in his chest you slowly open your eyes and turn your head up to look at him. Your eyes go wide when they meet his and you scramble back away from him missing the look of disappointment in his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t even think to warn you about my cuddling habits at night. Oh God you probably think I’m a nut. I bet you were so uncomfortable I’m sorry.” Bucky’s face scrunches up as you begin to ramble and he reaches out to put a hand on your arm to interrupt you.

“Hey, hey! It’s alright. Was I or was I not also cuddling you?” That stops you in your train of thought completely as you take in his words and think about exactly how you had woken up, his arms already wrapped around you before you turned and started cuddling him. A grin overtakes your features in a way that reminds Bucky of when it happens to the Grinch in the animated cartoon and you look back over at him.

“Bucky Barnes, are you a secret cuddler?” There’s a playful accusing tone to your voice as you speak.

“Never been much of one must be just having a cute girl next to me that made it happen.” Your face heats at his words and you can already feel yourself overthinking on if he’s flirting with you or not.

“I have to pee.” You blurt it out fast before rushing out of bed grimacing when your ankle takes on weight but dealing with it as you get to the bathroom as quickly as you can. As soon as the door is shut you lean your back against it and let out a breath of air. You stay against the door internally freaking out about Bucky’s flirting for a minute before deciding to give whatever energy he gives you back and actually going to the bathroom and brushing your teeth. When you leave the bathroom he’s pulling his toothbrush and toothpaste out of his bag.

“It’s all yours.” You point your thumb over your shoulder to the bathroom and hobble your way back to the bed to sit down.

“How’s it feeling today?” His head nods towards your ankle.

“It’s fine, much much better than yesterday.” You’re partially lying, it does hurt less than it did but you had tried to feel it up in the bathroom and you’re pretty sure it swelled up a little bit. He hums in response before going to brush his teeth. When he’s back he goes straight to look at said ankle in question.

“Oh sweetheart.” His voice is soft and it’s almost like it pains him to see your injured ankle the way it is when he unwraps it. There’s a little bit of bruising and it did swell but not as much as either of you were worried it would. “Be honest, how is it feeling?” 

“It does feel better, really. Still hurts but nowhere near as much as it did yesterday. Promise.”

“Okay.” He’s gentle as he wraps it back up, resisting the urge to drop a kiss to it. “Do you want to get dressed before we go downstairs?” 

“Are we gonna be going anywhere today?” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Then no, I'll stay in my pjs all day.”

“Alright, hop on then. And then I’ll make you some breakfast and we can watch more of that show from last night.” He turns around and crouches a little so it’s easier for you to climb onto his back. You grab your phone before wrapping yourself around him.

“Wow breakfast and The Nanny you sure know the way to a girl's heart!” You’re beaming as you rest your chin on his shoulder and his hands go to secure your legs.

“I try.” Bucky chuckles and his hands playfully squeeze your calves before he starts heading downstairs. “What do you wanna eat?”

“Can you make French toast?” He drops you on the couch carefully, still being aware of not jostling your ankle too much. 

“Yeah. I’ll be back with the ice pack for your ankle, get comfortable and get it elevated. I’ll start on breakfast after.”

You wait to actually start the show until he gets back with the food but get it ready between him sticking a pillow under your foot and resting the pack on your ankle and going to make your breakfast. You spend the time he’s cooking to scroll through your phone and text the girls about how you’re doing the chat blowing up when you tell them that Bucky’s cooking for you and that you’re letting him. Since you’ve never been one to let other people cook instead wanting to be the one to take care of it. But this time you don’t exactly have a choice in the matter and, not that you would admit it to anyone, you’re kind of enjoying being taken care of. 

When he comes back with french toast topped with powdered sugar and strawberries you could’ve started drooling. Once you put syrup on it and take a bite you swear up and down to him that it’s the best french toast you’ve ever had. He doesn’t believe you because he’s had your food and knows how good your cooking and baking is. But the way you moan at almost each bite and continue to tell him how good it is almost has him believing you. It also makes it hard to focus on the show you insist he needs to watch because it’s, in your words, a classic. He’s quick to take the dishes away to wash them when you’re both done eating even though you insist you can just do them when he starts to let you move around on your own again.

“Do you have anything you have to do for your classes today that you’re missing?”

“No, my professors just told me to go over the powerpoints they’ll be posting later. Do you?” Checking your emails to see if any of them had responded to your sorry I won’t be in class one was one of the things you had done while he cooked. Bucky nods to answer your question.

“Gotta read a couple articles. So I’ll be right back just gotta go grab my laptop.”

“Okay. I’ll be here.” 

When he comes back you continue watching the show with him glancing up now and then in between paragraphs. He gets completely distracted from his article though when you scoot closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder. You turn your head up towards him when you feel his eyes on you for longer than just a glance.

“What? Oh! Is this okay? Sorry I just sorta seem to want to gravitate towards you. Like your arms metal and I’m a magnet.” You let out a nervous chuckle and before you can move away he’s leaning more into you.

“It’s okay doll. Make yourself comfortable.” You beam up at him then before wrapping your arms around his arm and nuzzling into it. It’s very hard for him to keep focused on the article pulled up in front of him then. Thankfully it was the last one he needed to read and he was more than halfway done with it. When he does finish it he wraps the arm around your shoulder after tossing the closed laptop to the side of the couch allowing you to cuddle into his side.

“You know you’re way less grumpy today than you normally are. You’re all cuddly and smiling and talkative.”

“Must’ve woken up on the right side of the bed.” You duck your head down and bite your lip, faking paying attention to Fran and Maxwell to hide the giddy smile that his words send to your face. 

The day goes by with the two of you cuddled up on the couch watching The Nanny. Bucky makes you a sandwich for lunch just the way you ask for it and even lets you sit in the kitchen with him while he did it to give you some sort of movement. He had hovered the whole time you made your way in and back to the couch ready to catch you if you tripped or swoop in to pick you up if you grimaced a little too much. Thankfully neither option happened. And when Wanda, the first of the girls to get home, comes in she finds the two of you on the couch again much like yesterday and can’t help but smile. Bucky misses the feel of you against him when you straighten up to talk to her as she sits by your feet. Yelena gets home not long after stating that Kate will be back late because she picked up a shift at the cafe and let you know that she’s letting Stan, the owner of the place, know that you won’t be able to work for a bit because of your ankle. Which you had started to argue about before abruptly shutting up when she shot you her no nonsense look knowing it was pointless then.

She joins you all on the couch after grabbing bags of snacks, throwing your favorite flavor of Dot’s pretzels your way and Wanda's oreos into her lap on her way to the other side of the couch with her own hot cheetos in her hands. You all sit there talking to each other, Bucky chiming in here and there but mainly just listening, with the show on in the background and Bucky finds himself enjoying himself amidst it all. It wasn’t boring like when he briefly had a dorm to himself and it isn’t chaos like what he lives with now. It’s the closest he’s felt to living at home with his sister and parents and he sinks in the comfortability of it all like a stone in water. He even doesn’t mind when Pietro shows up and makes everything louder and a little bit more chaotic with changing the show to some comedy and reaching over people to steal some of their snacks. 

By the time Kate gets home Pietro is passed out, head leaned back against the couch and snoring and you’re halfway to following him. Bucky hands your Dots to Wanda as he greets the new addition that just collapsed on the couch next to Yelena complaining about it being a long day. Then he slowly moves you to lean against the corner you’re sitting in before making his way off the couch in the moment hating how big it is the way you all have it set up because of how he has to scooch down it. He bids the girls a goodnight before leaning over and picking you up to take you upstairs. You mumble a bit more asleep than awake before leaning into him, Bucky’s quick to turn around before anyone can see the smile that brings to his face. But it’s just a moment too slow because Yelena does notice it and one of her own appears.

You wake up the next day rolling over and stretching your arm out searching for Bucky’s warmth to find your bed empty and immediately opening your eyes. You find Bucky in gym shorts and shirtless doing pushups on the floor. Your sleepy eyes rake over the tattoos that cover his right arm once more, having an urge to grab it and get him to let you trace them with your fingers.

“Bucky?” Your voice is croaky with sleep as you lean over the bed to look at him more. “What’re you doing? What time is it?”

“Early.” He doesn’t have to look at his phone to know that he had set an alarm to get up at five and maybe only twenty minutes have passed since. “Was supposed to hit the gym this morning but didn’t wanna just leave you.” Your heart picks up at the thought and you go back to laying on the bed completely when he finishes his reps and stands up.

“Oh. You could’ve gone.” He goes to say something but you interrupt. “Or maybe not, I probably would’ve gotten up to look for you. But you can go now big guy, I'll stay here.” Your eyes close and Bucky smiles as he realizes you’re ready to pass out again.

“I’ll be back soon okay?” You nod burrowing into your pillows and blankets some more. “Go back to sleep, doll and I’ll be back before you wake up.” He leans over and drops a kiss to your forehead like it’s second nature for him before he realizes that he’s even doing it. A small smile shows on your lips at it and Bucky straightens up, throws his shirt back on, and grabs his bag before heading out. Yelena nods in greeting when she sees him from her spot in the dining room with her morning tea and tells him about the key hidden outside before he can leave.

After he had been at the gym for a while some of his other teammates show up, each one going to their own area except for Sam and Pietro. They make a beeline straight for him when they spot him doing bench presses. He immediately wishes he had both headphones in knowing they’re about to slow him down when he’s been trying to get done as quickly as he can in order to get back before you wake like he said he would.

“How’s my stubborn Printesa?” Pietro asks.

“Fine.” Bucky huffs out his response not wanting to dignify the question with his dumb pet name for you with an answer. He focuses back on the bar in his hands to ignore that acidic feeling that’s eating away at him again.

“Is she staying off that foot?”

“Yeah.” If Sam hadn't been the one to ask he wouldn’t have answered. 

“Yeah I was over last night, she stayed sat on the couch leaned into Bucky the whole time.”

“Wait, you were over last night? Where was my invite?”

“I have a standing invite because of having a twin on the inside.”

“So in other words you just walked in and made yourself at home?”

“Pretty much.” Pietro shrugs as he and Sam go back and forth and Bucky lets out an annoyed growl as he places the bar back on the brackets.

“Are you two here to workout or just bug me?” He doesn’t give them time to respond before making his way over to the treadmills, digging his headphone case out of his bag to put the second one in so they can’t bother him anymore.

“Will the two of you get to work and stop annoying Buck!” Steve comes in at the end and Bucky sends a thankful nod to his friend, getting one in acknowledgement back.

“Sir yes sir!” Pietro fake salutes before nudging Sam towards the squating area.

Admittedly Bucky doesn’t run as far as he normally does but as the clock ticks closer to seven he gets more anxious to get back to you. While part of it is because he said he’d be back before you wake up and intends to stick by that even though you probably, definitely, didn’t even hear it another part of it is he doesn’t want you to wake up and decide to try to get downstairs on your own. He waves to Steve and Scott on his way out, the latter ecstatically waving in return and causing Steve to laugh while Bucky rolls his eyes at how excited he is all the time. He stops at home before heading back next door wanting to grab clean clothes for the night and drop all of his dirty clothes off. 

He does still make it back before you wake up. You’re hugging a spare pillow to your chest and Bucky smiles at the sight even though he wishes he was there in place of it. He knows he smells of sweat though and instead of changing and rejoining you he heads straight into the bathroom to shower.

When you wake up again the shower’s running and instead of Bucky you’re cuddling with the pillow he must’ve been using with how it smells like him. You stretch starfish style and let out a satisfied groan when your shoulder pops before sitting up in tandem with the water turning off. You don’t pay it any mind though, instead rolling your neck to crack it you freeze though your neck still tilted to the side when you spot Bucky in just a towel in the doorway of the bathroom. You’re both frozen in space eyes wide for a moment before he speaks.

“Left my bag out here.” You can only nod as your eyes take in all of the bare skin that’s revealed to you. You can’t help but marvel at the man in front of you only snapping out of it once the doors shut again. Your face immediately heats up as you realize the way you had just been gaping at him and you fall back into bed pulling a pillow over your face to hide from the embarrassment of it. 

“Y/n? What are you doing?” Bucky asks as he finds you a chuckle falling from his lips at your muffled ‘waiting for death’ in response. He sits next to you leaning over and trying to gently remove the pillow only lifting it an inch before your arms lock it down again. “C’mon dollbaby.” The pet name practically causes you to melt, something that Bucky stores away for later, and allows him to remove the pillow but doesn’t stop your hands from covering your face instead. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m an idiot who just gawked when I should’ve responded to you or looked away at least.” An amused smile takes its proper place on Bucky’s face at your response.

“Does it make it better or worse if I tell you I would’ve done the same thing if roles were reversed?”

“You would’ve?” That gets you to peek through your fingers and look at him.

“Of course I would’ve have you seen yourself? I can barely keep my eyes off of your legs in your sleep shorts!” You laugh more at the way he says it than the words themselves. “There she is.” His voice goes soft as your eyes meet his and his hand goes to caress the side of your face. There’s suddenly suffocating tension in the room and all Bucky wants to do is lean down and kiss you and all you want is for him to do it. But instead he pulls away and stands up putting some distance between the two of you. “You want breakfast again?” He crouches for you to get on his back like the morning before.

“Yeah. What do you normally eat after going to the gym in the morning?” You get up and get on letting him carry you downstairs.

“A giant helping of oatmeal.” He spreads his arms out hoping, praying, to hear you laugh again for his wish to be granted before they go back to making sure you’re secure on his back.

“I think we have some of the apple kind in the pantry. You could make us oatmeal, maybe add some fruits like strawberries or bananas.”

“As you wish.” You want to call him out on it again but he had already said he’d never seen The Princess Bride and Bucky wants to run and hide because you’re sure to catch on to his lie if he keeps saying it.

The two of you have big helpings of oatmeal with Bucky having a bigger portion and finishing what you couldn’t eat and continuing to watch The Nanny. Your day continues like that until you realize you’re both missing your film class. He reassures you that Sam will be taking notes on what they say in class and sharing them with the two of you so you can respond in the discussion post your teacher is gonna post later and that if you want to you two can watch it then. So after lunch, which consists of your favorite takeout, the two of you put on Don’t Worry Darling and you take notes on it as you watch it about how it depicts men’s desire to control and how it critiques society's expectations placed on women so it’ll be easier to answer the discussion post.

“Oh shit is this The Nanny?” Sam asks later when he just walks in.

“Yeah!”

“What, you don’t knock anymore?” You and Bucky respond at the same time you completely unbothered with Sam’s unexpected presence and Bucky completely bothered by it.

“Pietro said he just shows up, I’m gonna just show up. Now move over Buck this shows the best!” He tosses the notebook open to where he took notes during the film class into Bucky’s lap before squeezing in between the two of you despite all the room on the couch.

“You know the show?”

“My sister would watch it all the time so naturally I got into it.”

“You can’t just walk into their place without them knowing you’re showing up.”

“Pietro does it and Y/n doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Oh I don't, we used to leave our doors open randomly when we were still in the dorms and talk to the people who walked past.”

“You’re gonna start locking your door.” He points at you after he has a moment to take in the new information you just told him. “And you go sit on the other side of the couch.” He points at Sam then before pointing over his shoulder to the other couch corner not appreciating the fact that Sam forced his way into his spot next to you.

“Relax Buck, you can sit next to your girl again later. I won’t be here for long.” Bucky grumbles to himself before moving over some more so he’s not pressed up against Sam anymore. He folds his arms across his chest as his friend resituates himself to get comfortable. You don’t notice Sam call you Bucky’s girl and Bucky doesn’t comment on it or how it calms down the unreasonable possessiveness that was just taking him over.

Sam doesn’t leave until after dinner which consists of Mac and cheese and chicken both made by Yelena and the second Harry Potter movie is over, Wanda’s pick. When he does leave Bucky immediately moves back to sit next to you and you’re quick to lean back into his warmth. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Yelena or Kate who share a look with each other but does go unnoticed by Wanda who moves to your other side in between you and the couch corner to show you pictures of the plants she’s thinking of getting to add to the collection around the house. 

“So Bucky, when’s your first game of the season?” Kate asks, drawing his attention from you to the other two girls, one sitting criss-cross and the other with one leg stretched out and the other bent.

“Two weeks, practice starts tomorrow morning.”

“God, that means Piet’s gonna be over all the time to ‘fuel up’.” Wanda groans in mock annoyance and uses finger quotations around what he always says when he shows up after practice.

“Bad news Wanda, I think that means Sam’s gonna be over too.” You all laugh as she lets out an actual groan of annoyance at Yelena’s definitely correct assumption. “I bet it’s safe to assume you will be too Barnes?” She smirks in his direction.

“Why are we all apparently coming here after practices?”

“Because Y/n’s collecting hockey players like pokemon cards with her cooking.”

“I’ve been cooking for Pietro after practices for a while now.” You explain for Bucky when you recognize the confusion still behind his eyes. “You’re all welcome to come with him even though I’ve only really interacted with you three.”

“You’re not gonna be feeding a whole team every couple days.”

“Says you.” You mumble to yourself low enough that Bucky’s the only one who catches it. You get a squeeze of your thigh from him in response.

“Yeah, and I’m right.” He whispers it in your ear sending a shiver down your spine. 

“Fine, just your household then.” You keep the for now part to yourself this time and he nods in agreement knowing there’s no stopping that.

“I have an early shift tomorrow so I should head up for the night.” Yelena says as she gets up. “Wanda you should too otherwise you’re going to be a zombie and affect our tips.” 

“I hate when you’re right.” Wanda reluctantly gets up too before turning to you Bucky and Kate. “Night guys see you tomorrow.”

The three of you aren’t long to follow. You and Kate talk about how you both want to have a craft night soon while Bucky just sits and listens happy to just watch the two of you get excited over the ideas of doing paint nights or clay nights or whatever other crafts you’re both naming. He admittedly stops paying that much attention and instead is focused on watching how your eyes light up and you start to talk with your hands the more excited you get. The second you start to yawn though he’s insisting it’s time for bed and lets you slowly hobble up the stairs on your own this time knowing you’ll have to be able to do it tomorrow while he’s gone.

“When’s your practice tomorrow?” You ask him as the two of you brush your teeth next to each other.

“Early, I’ll probably be gone when you wake up. And then I have a shift at the rink so I won’t be over when Pietro shows up after practice.”

“Are you gonna start staying at your place tomorrow then?” You speak with your toothbrush in your mouth and Bucky nods before leaning down to spit into the sink.

“Yeah, I probably should. How’s your ankle feeling? You think you’ll be okay on it?”

“It feels a lot better. I'll be fine to walk on it tomorrow I think.”

The two of you don’t even try to act like you won’t end up cuddling that night immediately getting comfortable wrapped up in each other's arms once you’re in bed. Neither of you wanting to start sleeping alone again after tonight but knowing that there’s no other option with the excuse of him needing to stay because of your ankle no longer being available once you start walking on it. You had forgotten how nice it was to sleep next to another human being like this since your last relationship and Bucky’s never had anyone to sleep next to where it was as nice as it was sleeping next to you. He had never craved another person's presence quite like how he craves yours. It’s almost painful for him to unwrap himself from you in the morning when he has to go and he drops a kiss on your forehead before leaving longing to be coming back to you after.

The days go by and your ankle slowly goes back to as normal as it can. The only difference is you tend to bend it awkwardly just enough to send a quick zip of pain up it before it’s fine again now. But they also go by with the hockey players next door making themselves at home in your home after each practice. Sam and Pietro are over all the time, Pietro because he’s family and Sam because he’s this close to getting Wanda to say yes to a date, his words. 

Bucky finds any excuse he can to stick close to you. He helps you cook if there’s still anything left to make when they come over or bake if you feel like making a dessert. He sits next to you at the dining table, sickeningly close as Sam teases him with later, and just watches you, studies you really, when you’re not right next to each other. His favorite time to watch you is when you have them over for breakfast and you cook while they sit in the dining room talking with the girls. You move about the kitchen with an elegance you don’t have anywhere else and hum to yourself normally with soft music on in the background. The morning sun shines on you and he’s caught you just basking in it a few times. You’re just utterly and completely beautiful in your element and it always pushes him one step closer in the direction of taking you to his field. 

The Avengers win their first two games of the season and for both all of you show up dressed up to match with the boys, a pact you had all made with Pietro when he started complaining about having to wear suits. And while the four of you don’t get quite as dressed up as the team, Yelena and Kate show up in business casual outfits and you and Wanda dress in what Pietro calls kindergarten professional. Which means fun colors and not a lot of skin showing you both wear your matching overalls once Wanda with a long sleeved red shirt and you with a loose green sweater underneath before you switch to your cute flowery skirts. 

It’s not enough to distract Bucky. Sure his eyes get drawn to you during breaks or when he gets penalties, which has happened less him not wanting to be as violent on the ice now that he knows a sweetheart like you is watching him and not wanting you to see his rough edges even if you may have seen them before. But he takes the game too seriously to let his eyes stray from the puck while he’s actively playing. No matter how much you stick out in the crowd or how the sunshine you emit as you cheer them on could melt the ice. It’s not until the third game of the season that he gets a little bit distracted. You show up in a corset top sundress and a cardigan and Bucky can’t help but keep stealing glances your way, hating that he can’t stop himself from looking at your tits like some kind of school boy. Little does he know he’s not the only one who can’t help but look.

It’s halfway through the game when Bucky lines up in front of Brock Rumlow, Hydra’s known enforcer who they just switched to play right wing instead of left, and the look on his face already has Bucky knowing he’s about to say something to piss him off. 

“That’s some fan you guys got over there Barnes.” He nods his head in your direction. “I’m tempted to get the team to just let you guys score just to watch her jump up and down and cheer.”

“Don’t fucking look at her Rumlow.” Bucky growls out in response not wanting him to even think about you.

The match goes on and Bucky is hyper aware of where Rumlow is the whole time and how he skates by the glass in front of you and Wanda. He suddenly really misses Yelena’s guard dog presence that he knows would deter his attention but her and Kate couldn’t make it this game. It’s not too long before The Avengers score and the crowd goes wild with cheering and when Bucky should be searching out your beaming smile he’s watching Rumlow look your way.

When they get lined up again Brock whistles as he slides into place in front of Bucky.

“That dress really hugs her just right bet it’d look better bunched up around her waist while I-” The ref blows the whistle to start and immediately Bucky’s tossing his stick down and flicking his gloves off with Brock following suit. Bucky doesn’t waste any time grabbing onto him and starting to swing. He sees red as they fight and it doesn't take long before Bucky has Brock knocked out and they’re both going down on the ice. He stays there until the refs come to separate them and once he’s up he heads straight to the penalty box knowing he’s going to get a five minute penalty for fighting on the ice. He’s smirking when he turns back towards the rink enjoying how disoriented Rumlow is as he gets up from the ice.

After the game, that The Avengers had won, you and Wanda wait in the parking lot for the boys. Pietro’s the first one out, the rest of them not far behind him, and he runs over to the two of you as soon as he spots you. The three of you do your regular celebratory group hug before you turn and immediately seek out Bucky to give him a hug. His arms wrap around you and a smile slowly forms on his previously angry looking face. As soon as you’re in his arms thoughts of Brock Rumlow’s leering are out of his head. 

“Wanna go somewhere?” He speaks into your hair and you smile into his chest while you answer.

“With you big guy? Always.”

“Wanda, I'm stealing her.” The two of you separate except for your hands that Bucky had entwined together. 

“Have fun!” Your friend says as she waves to you.

“But what about celebrating?” Pietro asks because you were all supposed to go out for an early dinner.

“Celebrate without us.” Bucky calls back not pausing as he leads you to Sam’s truck that he convinced him to let him borrow with the thought that he’d be able to take your spot in Wanda’s car. He opens the passenger side door and helps you in before rounding his way to the driver's seat. He’s quick to shed the suit jacket and loosen his tie once he’s in the car and you bite your lip and look away before he can glance your way again, hoping he didn’t catch you ogling him because Bucky Barnes looks damn good in a suit but even better when he’s getting out of one.

“So where are we going big guy?” You ask a few minutes into the drive.

‘Somewhere secret.” Bucky’s been speeding trying to get you there as soon as possible while not going so fast that he could get the two of you into an accident. His dreams are about to come true quite literally because all he seems to be able to do at night is dream about you laying with him in the field. 

“Ooo a surprise. I love surprises! I didn’t get a lot of them growing up. Presents were unwrapped if there were any and my family didn’t really do anything out of a schedule. There was one time I thought my parents were going to throw me a surprise party but they had just forgotten my birthday.” Bucky’s grip on the wheel tightens, it seems everything you say about your family is bad and you say it so nonchalantly that he knows it’s just how you were always treated. “So I’ve never had one of those despite how much I’d like one.” Bucky stores that information away for later as he pulls into a parking spot near a trail that leads to the field. 

“Do you bring me out to the middle of nowhere to kill me?” You ask as he helps you out of the truck, his tie now discarded and the sleeves of his button up rolled up while his suit jacket is clutched in his hand. It’s hard for you to tear your eyes away from his forearms but by some miracle you do. 

“No, c’mon.” He chuckles at your joke and grabs your hand again to lead you along the trail. He keeps you close to him under the guise of making sure you don’t trip, which he’s doing that too, but really it’s mainly to have you close. And you’re all too happy to be close to him. Your comfortable conversation goes stagnant as the trail opens up to the clearing and you take in the field of flowers in front of you.

“Wow!” You’re breathless as you take it in and Bucky gives you a moment before pulling you to the spot he normally sits in where it’s mainly just grass. He sits and spreads out the jacket brought with the two of you for you to sit on so you don’t get grass stains on your pretty dress. You slowly sit taking in the sight around you before tuning into a bee on one of the daisies. Bucky leans back on his hands and studies you. He was right, you do make this place even more beautiful. 

“This is so beautiful, Bucky.”

“Ya it is.” He’s looking at you something you don’t know because you’re too busy touching the petals of a pink flower.

“I bet you bring all the girls here.” You tease him as you pluck the flower you’re studying to twirl between your fingers.

“I’ve only ever brought you dollbaby. Steve doesn’t even know about this place.” You turn your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. You’re shocked to hear it and the way that he’s looking at you combined with the bomb he just dropped your heart feels like it’s just completely overflowing. And before you even know what you’re doing you’re leaning over and placing a kiss on his lips. 

“Sorry! I don’t know-” You’re quick to start to pull back, shocked by your actions but you don’t get far before Bucky’s hand is on the back of your neck stopping you from going any farther, he’s positively beaming which you would argue is a better sight than the field you’re in.

“Ain’t nothing to be sorry for.” He pulls your lips back to his knowing that he’s about to be an addict.

Bucky Taglist(12/30): @the-chocoholic-writer @vanillamaa @sailormajinmoon @enlyume @collywobbl @valhalla-kristin @nojamsonmytoast @esoltis280 @aactuaaltraash @cali-888 @moonNooon @Minami97

Marvel Taglist(14/30): @lieswithoutfairytales @sugarbutterbailey @1-800-ch3rry @neenieweenie @fluffy-bnny @bunnyweasley23 @chaoticevilbakugo @trikigirl271 @chxosunbound @mazerunnerrose @goldylions @literally-a-ferret @angelgirl45367 @supraveng  

Everything Taglist: @matchabbarnes​ @bubsonnobx​ @practicalghost​ @katsukis1wife @crustyowos @yourfavdummy @protecteddiemunson4vr @kennedy-brooke @m00nkn1ghts @rory-cakes

[uhhhj13iguess]

prepare yourself

avenger!peter parker x avenger! reader

summary: peter loses you on a mission, and it's worse than he could've imagined

wc: 3.5k

cw: body gore! mdni! i wanted to experiment with writing body horror, so it gets very graphic when detailing injuries/mutilation. there's no description of the actual events happening, just a lot of wording around the body designed to hopefully make you feel a bit squeamish!

if anyone wants, i'd love to do a part two with the medical-side juxtaposition as well, and give a sweet lil peter ending to turn this angst into fluff i fucking did and forgot to tag it! here it is!

masterlist and taglist!

peter shot one last web towards the wall, concluding his mural of men webbed along the hallway outside the security room. he gave himself a proud smile, admiring his work.

"you're telling me these guys are hydra? for a decades-long terrorist organization, they sure don't know how to train their front line very well."

you snickered beside him, sliding another bloodied man along the tiled floor to where you'd piled the others.

"i don't get why tony has us on security watch, this is light work. why even have me train under nat if i can't use my skills in practice? i wanna get my hands dirty, i wanna know what they aren't telling us." you kicked the foot of the man below you, turning to peter and giving him a frown. he offered you a knowing smile in return.

"yeah, i get what you mean. come on, lets just get in there and disable the security measures. then we can go back to the jet and try that chocolate i bought at the sokovian 7-eleven."

you grinned at him, heart swelling at the thought of some alone time with peter before the rest of the team was done.

"alright. you head in, i'm going to do one more sweep of the first floor while you're in there."

peter felt his senses go off for a second, a weird feeling in his chest. "i don't know, maybe we shouldn't split up."

you gave him a look. "what, you don't think i can handle myself? come on, you know we've cleared this floor already. plus, you've got like, three buttons to hit and we're home free, it won't be that long."

"yeah, but—"

"but nothing, spidey. come on, work your tech magic and meet me out here."

he let out a breath, shaking off whatever bad feeling was sitting in his stomach. "yeah, you're probably right. one sec,"

peter ducked into the security room, a dissonant beep ringing through the air as he held the keycard to the lock. the light flashed green and let him in. he laughed, "thanks bad guys!"

he heard you chuckle from down the hall as he made his way into the room, a smile on his face. he would never admit it to you, but he liked that you two were handed the short stick on missions. you were in and out, leaving time alone before the rest of the team came back, and he relished those moments more than any chance of glory.

he reached the switchboard, glancing at the monitors as he saw the rest of the team on the cameras making their rounds on various floors. "god we're so badass."

(y/n) was right: it was a matter of exactly three commands before he had the systems disabled. he heard tony through his comms,

"thanks, kid. now, do us all a favor and get yourself to the jet. this shouldn't take long."

peter smiled to himself, a feeling of accomplishment coursing through him. did he press literally there buttons? yes. but he pressed three buttons as an avenger. man, that would never grow old.

he heard commotion from down the hall and called out towards you. "alright (y/n), we've had our fun. stop messing with them and let's fuck up some chocolate, shall we?"

he was met with silence, his chest feeling tight again. "(y/n)?"

he took one step out of the room before his head was met with a metal fist, the CRACK of his own skull ringing through his ears before he lost consciousness.

tony jerked back as his hand repulsor let out a blast, sending the guy on steve's back to the ground with a heavy thud.

"mr. stark, both peter and (y/n) have gone unconscious." FRIDAY echoed through the suit. his blood ran cold.

"what?"

"both of them are in the building and their vitals are stable, however, they've both just lost consciousness within one minute of each other."

he felt his breathing pick up, his heartbeat commanding in his chest. he looked to steve and nat. "you guys good?"

nat threw a nasty headbutt, sending the agent in front of her collapsing to the ground. "go, tony."

he flew out without another word.

"FRIDAY, get me their most recent location."

"head to the security room, sir. take a left now."

tony reached the room in a matter of a minute, missiles out and on guard. he announced himself before storming the room, standing down once met with peter on the ground, no one else around him. he rushed out of his suit and to his side, shaking the boy relentlessly.

"kid, come on. wake up."

a few more desperate shakes and peter was gasping for air, fists flying and ready to fight.

"woah woah woah, hey— you're alright, you're okay. same sides, just me."

peter stalled his movements, taking a deep breath and allowing himself to grab ahold of his surroundings. he sat up slowly before immediately regretting it. man, did his head hurt.

"kid, you alright? you're bleeding. take of the mask, i need to see it." tony reached towards him, only to be swatted at.

"mr. stark, someone'll see!"

"kid, the floor is clear. i'm pretty sure you're responsible for that. jesus, how hard did you hit your head?" he pressed the spider emblem on peter's chest, revealing his blood-stained curls.

"pete, what the hell happened? for fucks sake, we need to get you out of here. FRIDAY, admister morphine."

"what? no, mr. stark don't— OW! mr. stark, what the hell??"

"kid, you're going to thank me in ten minutes. where's (y/n)?"

peter felt his mouth go dry. "w-what do you mean 'where's (y/n)''?"

tony's face fell. "shit. okay kid, let's get you to the jet. sam?" he called into his comms.

"yeah tony, what's up?"

"get down here, i need you to get eyes on (y/n)."

peter shot up instantly, his mask climbing back up his face. "no, mr. stark, really. i'm fine. i can feel it healing already, honest. i have to find (y/n)."

"we aren't having a discussion on this."

"you're right, we're not."

peter took off, flying down the hallway and out of sight before tony could even get back in his suit.

"karen, show me heat signatures."

the team searched for a while, leaving no one in their way untouched. the fight to find you was growing tireless, and the more time that passed without a trace of you led to more panic spreading amongst the team — peter worst of all.

he'd grown feral in his search for you, bloodying any body he encountered.

"kid, we should head back to the jet. we need to gameplan this." tony rang through his suit.

"no. mr stark, her tracker is still in the compound and she's close enough to read vitals on."

"pete, we—"

"she's in pain, mr. stark. i'm not leaving this building without her."

peter continued to search for hours, detailing every single room in the building. he spent the most time in the room your tracker had led him to, but helpless as he couldn't find you anywhere nearby. he had screamed your name for the majority of the search, his throat raw as his own healing couldn't even keep up with his efforts. he felt the blood warm on the back of his throat, accompanying the warm flood of tears down his cheeks.

"this is all my fault." he let out a horse whimper, bouncing his head up against the brick wall in front of him.

he felt hopeless. he felt like the world was crashing around him, a wretched feeling in his chest ripping him apart from the inside. this was all his fault, he didn't—

the bricks against his forehead ground against one another before shifting backwards, causing peter to jerk his head up. he stared wide eyed to a portion of the wall having fallen back as though on hinges, a long hallway now standing in front of him.

"a secret door. you're kidding." he breathed to himself. "mr. stark?"

"yeah, kid?" tony rang through.

"i found a door hidden in the wall right where (y/n)'s location is. i'm going in."

"i'll be there in 30 seconds."

peter sighed to himself before stepping his foot over the threshold and down the concrete-lined hallway.

"this would've been way cooler 5 hours ago."

tony landed in the room, eyes on the hole in the wall as he made his way down. he spotted peter ahead of him, not quite to the room at the other end.

"mr. stark, i have (y/n)'s heat signature in the room about twenty yards ahead. she's alive, but her vital signs are unstable. i'll prepare the jet for medical intervention." FRIDAY alerted.

tony gave a deep sigh as he approached peter, a hand falling on his chest and preventing him from walking any further.

"mr. stark, what are you— we have to go, sir!"

"kid, just wait a second. i need you to be prepared for anything, okay? they had (y/n) for almost five hours, and you know what we came here for originally. just, prepare yourself."

peter scowled, a look of of uncertainty overtaking his features as though he was at war with himself. he met tony's gaze. "this is all my fault."

"hey, pete. you know that's not true. you're lucky we aren't finding you in this room too."

peter took a shakey inhale, turning back to the opening of the cold room before them. "i'll feel lucky when i have her out of here."

and with that, peter ran. he navigated the room, desperately following your heat signature as tony focused on the agents and scientists in the room. he hoped peter was entirely focused on getting to you because he sure as hell wasn't following the "no-kill" rule this time around.

with everyone else taken care of, peter ran to the other end of the room where karen had traced you. and while tony had done his best, there was nothing peter could've done to prepare himself for what he saw.

you were on the concrete floor, clothes ripped and shivering from the frigid temperature of the room. your eyes were closed as you flinched from the noises around you, but it wasn't your demeanor that stopped him dead in his tracks.

there you laid, at complete mercy of those around you. thick tubes entered your body through your arms and chest, a viscous, black sludge coursing into you. it leaked out around the edges, your torn skin wet from not only the liquid but from the amount of blood lost as well.

the tubes protruded two from each forearm and one on either side of your collarbones, each breath stretching the skin around them and causing more tearing on your chest. peter could see the outline of the tubing in your arms, your skin bulging as the tubes fished themselves up to your biceps. the sight made him lightheaded, beginning to panic as he fought to believe what his eyes were showing him.

the scent of everything brought tears to his eyes, a sickly sweet smell in the air as your body fought hard to reject everything that was happening. it was foul, a putrid scent similar to that of rotten fruit flooding his nose and raising bile in his throat. had it been from the stench alone, peter would've thought you'd been dead for hours.

he took a step closer to you and there was a crunch underneath his right foot. he lifted it and looked down, confusion coating his features. and then, there was nothing but terror.

he leaned down to pick up a tooth, skimming the area to notice another few molars scattered around your limp body. his eyes met with the bloodied pair of pillars on the ground, giving new and nightmarish reasoning to your blood-soaked mouth. peter looked back up to you and felt his knees give out.

he crawled closer, not daring to touch you to make anything worse. now, he got a better look at your face, and he almost wished he hadn't.

blood pooled down your chin and dripped onto your chest, notably from the missing teeth and whatever else they'd done to you that peter couldn't see evidence of. you let out a cough, but it came out more as a gag, blood filling your mouth at a higher rate than your body could handle. you choked, new waves of red liquid spilling from your lips and splattering across your torso as you fought to breathe.

somehow it wasn't your mouth that made peter feel faint, however. it was your eyes.

your eyelids had been crudely sewn shut, crusted over and bloody. your soft lids were torn to shreds, the flesh ripped raw — no doubt from unconscious efforts to open your eyes.

you let out a ragged breath. "hello? w-who's there?"

peter watched your eyes move underneath the lids frantically, the movement only proving his assumption correct as he watched the skin pull against the thread, flesh tearing apart at the struggle.

"hey hey hey, stop moving, please. calm down, it's just me. it's peter,"

he couldn't help the quiver in his voice, his body betraying him as tears flooded down his cheeks under the mask.

"i'm going to get you out of here, okay? i-i just need you to trust me, okay? i'm gonna get you out of here, i promise."

you nodded, the minimal movement enough to elicit a sharp cry from deep in your throat. peter winced, placing a hand on your head and running his fingers through your hair, careful not to get too close to your eyes.

"pete, i-i, please, i don't..."

karen's voice pierced through his mask, drowing out your pleas. "peter, we're losing her. you need to get her to the jet immediately."

he couldn't breathe. his vision was going dark around the edges, panic overtaking him as his eyes racked over your body, desperately hoping this was all just a horrible nightmare. at some point, the rest of the team had joined in on the fight, the sounds of gunshots and violence fading to the background as a ringing pierced his ears. he didn't know what to do, he didn't—

"p-peter? are you still there?" your trembling voice drew him out of his haze. he watched again as you fought to open your eyes, face controting in pain as you pulled against the thread. he grabbed your hand in his, giving it the faintest squeeze.

"hey, hey i'm sorry, i'm right here. please stop moving your eyes, try to relax them for me. i'm so sorry, (y/n), i'm so sorry." the last part a whisper.

you turned your head towards his voice, tears slipping through the loops in the thread. it rewet the blood crusted around your eyes, the tears running down your cheeks a pinkish-red.

"they told me i saw too much."

peter felt his stomach turn at your words, intrusive thoughts of them holding you down and stitching your eyes shut plaguing his mind.

"i'm so sorry, i...

"peter, you need to act quickly. start by removing the tubes from her arms." karen rang through his suit again.

he shook off the thought, bringing his attention back to you. "i need to get these tubes out, okay?"

you choked out an "okay", more blood spilling from your lips as you spoke.

"don't talk, okay? i'm going to get you out of here. just stay awake for me, please. i'm just gonna..." he placed his hand on one of the tubes, nauseous at their size in his hand.

he held tight, the movement alone from his grasp being enough to earn a whine from you, incoherent pleas to stop escaping your lips.

he felt panic bubble in his throat again. "karen, please. how do i do this, i... i don't... i don't know what i'm doing."

"it doesn't seem as though the tubes in her arms are intertwined with anything. the best course of action may be to pull as quickly as possible,"

peter could taste the bile in the back of his mouth.

"the tubing is about two feet long, peter. you're going to want to pull quickly and pull a lot further out than you think."

he took a deep breath, summoning all the willpower he had left. "okay, i'm going to take these out, alright? i need you to brave for me, this isn't going to feel great."

you choked out another "okay" as peter tightened his grasp on the tubing. he gave himself a mental countdown, closing his eyes and pulling as hard and as quickly as he could.

the sounds that filled his ears made him wish to never hear again. you let out a blood-curdling scream that forced an echo through the concrete room, the rasp in your voice telling peter you'd been crying out like this for hours. it broke his heart to hear you in so much pain, but somehow your deafening anguish wasn't the worst part.

he could hear as the tubing left your body. the squelching noises of the plastic running through your flesh burned to his memory, one he knew would haunt him at night. you let out another roar as the tubing left your body and peter opened his eyes, immediately looking at the now-open wound in your forearm. he no longer had to worry about the noises haunting him.

the tubing had left a gaping hole in your arm, a dark red mixture of various liquids splattering out of you. he was quick to throw a web on it, stopping the flow for now. he looked at you, tears blurring his vision.

"i'm sorry," he cried, out, nearly choking on his own sobs. "i need to keep going, i'm so sorry."

he grabbed the next one, wasting no time pulling as hard as he could. this time, however, he made the mistake of keeping his eyes open. he watched as the tubing moved from under your skin as though a snake was slithering inside of you, the bulging in your arms pulsing and raising as peter moved. the tubing hit the ground with a thud, and the next thing you could hear was peter dry heaving.

he continued with the other arm, apologies on his lips as though he was pleading for his own life. they were drowned out by your screams, the rasp in your tone growing stronger each time as you lost your ability to speak. you could feel your throat ripping apart as you cried, even more blood running down to your stomach than before. you heard the sounds of peter's webshooters and felt two more cool sensations on your left arm.

"okay, we just need to get the ones in your chest, okay? we're almost done, (y/n), i promise,"

he took a step back to examine the two tubes left before a voice cut through his ears.

"peter, you can't pull on these two, they're too close to her heart. you're going to need to sever them and leave them in so they can be taken out surgically."

the thought brought another gag to his throat. he nodded silently, reaching down to the boot on your left foot where he knew you always had a back up dagger hidden. he let out a sigh of relief as he felt the metal against his masked fingers, pulling out the knife and bringing it towards your chest. he noticed as your ragged breathing picked up.

"peter? w-what are you doing with that? what's going on, please?"

"it's okay. i have to leave these ones in here, okay? i'm going to cut them and then we're going to go," he held a firm hand on one of the tubes.

"you're going to feel some pressure, okay? you're going to feel me cutting it, and it's going—"

"—peter, she's losing consciousness. you need to make the cuts now."

"okay! okay, i— fuck, okay."

peter began to saw at the tubing, the back-and-forth movement ripping at the skin around the edges. it pulled, blood and dark liquid splashing out on your bare clavicle and turning everything he saw red. he braced for your scream, but felt even more panicked when he didn't hear one.

"hey hey, hey please no. please, stay with me, please i'm trying. just please stay alive."

he finished off the final tube, again using his webbing to seal the open ends and prevent anything else from going in (or coming out). he wrapped his arms around your limp frame, beginning to lift you. his whole body shook, the weight of the situation sitting on him like nothing he'd ever felt before. he let out a cry that hurt his chest, using everything he had left to get back to his feet.

he had you. he had you, and everything was going to be fine, he just needed to—

"kid, grab on!" tony yelled as he flew past, signaling peter to web himself onto his suit. he did so, holding you tight in his arms as tony flew them outside and towards the jet.

they landed outside, his arms shaking violently as he rushed you over to bruce who was waiting at the glider entrance.

"please, help her. please, you have to help her."

[brunettemarionette]

𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐑𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

☾‧₊˚ ⋅ ― female reader. no description of features. no mentions of size or race. Mentions reader being younger then them but age is up to you. My requests are open.

🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ 💜🇲​​🇦​​🇸​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇱​​🇮​​🇸​​🇹​ II

𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀:

Ragnar and Lagertha are relentless in their pursuit. They are both intense, dominant personalities who know what they want—and what they want is you. Once they decide you should be part of their relationship, they make it obvious.

They flaunt their relationship openly. Ragnar will press kisses to Lagertha's throat while staring at you, or Lagertha will run her fingers through his hair while smirking in your direction. They aren't subtle. They want you to see how passionate they are—and imagine yourself between them.

Lagertha is the more direct of the two. She's bold, confident, and unafraid to flirt shamelessly. She will whisper suggestive things in your ear, brush her fingers along your arm, and let her gaze linger on you with unmistakable interest.

Ragnar is playful and teasing. He likes to test boundaries, offering honeyed words in that deep, knowing voice, always pushing just enough to see your reaction. He'll casually mention how good you'd look in his furs or how Lagertha has taken a liking to you.

You are treated like a prize to be won, but they don't pressure you, but they seduce you in a way that feels inevitable. Every interaction is a battle of willpower, and they have an unfair advantage—they work as a team.

Their protectiveness is intense. Even before you agree to anything, they treat you as theirs. If anyone dares look at you with disrespect, Ragnar's hand is already on his axe, and Lagertha is seconds away from throwing a dagger.

They are patient. Ragnar and Lagertha know you're younger than them, so they don't rush you. They enjoy the chase, savoring every moment of tension and desire. You are their obsession, and they are willing to wait until you come to them.

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

Thinks He's In Charge (Ragnar) x Is Actually In Charge (Lagertha) x Knows They're Not In Charge (You)

Power Couple + Their Soft Obsession – Ragnar and Lagertha are the ultimate Viking power couple: strong, deadly, and deeply in love. But when it comes to you, they are patient, devoted, and willing to play the long game.

Hunted by Love – They relentlessly pursue you, drawing you further into their web with heated glances, suggestive words, and overwhelming presence. You're not just being courted—you're being claimed.

𝗥𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗣𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:

The Reluctant Third Who Falls Harder Than Either Expected Slow Burn with Unbearable Tension Inevitable Destiny

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴:

Monster – Starset Come with Me Now – KONGOS Animals - Maroon 5 (slowed) & Reverb

🔞𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪🔞:

They want to overwhelm you. Once you finally give in, expect no escape from their attention. Every touch, every glance, every word is designed to ruin you. They want you to crave them as much as they crave you.

Ragnar is an instigator; Lagertha is in control. Ragnar loves to provoke reactions, whispering filthy promises, making sure you see exactly how much they enjoy each other. Lagertha, on the other hand, decides when and how you are finally theirs.

They love to watch each other with you. There is something deeply possessive in the way they share—both completely devoted to one another but equally devoted to you.

Lagertha takes her time with you. She's the one who will pin you down, whispering against your lips, testing your limits while Ragnar watches, amusement and desire gleaming in his eyes.

Ragnar is primal and relentless. He lives for pleasure—yours, Lagertha's, his own. He loves seeing you surrender under their hands, knowing it was inevitable from the start.

They make you feel like a goddess. Every single time, you are worshiped and revered as something sacred.

They have wanted you for so long, and once you give in, they will ensure you never regret it. Ragnar is passionate and overwhelming, Lagertha is slow and deliberate—but together? Utterly devastating.

They enjoy drawing out your pleasure—Ragnar loves to watch you squirm, while Lagertha enjoys the slow, intimate moments, ensuring you feel completely adored.

If you are shy or inexperienced, they will be patient and encouraging, letting you take your time. They want you comfortable and willing.

𝗜𝗻𝗱𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗱𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀:

𝐋𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Lagertha is protective, sometimes to the point of possessiveness. She ensures you are safe, strong, and independent—but also that you know you belong with her.

Lagertha is soft yet firm—she knows what she wants, and she does not hesitate to tell you.

She will teach you to fight if you are not a warrior, her hands guiding yours over the hilt of a blade.

Lagertha adores worshipping you—she will take her time in every intimate moment, making sure you know just how treasured you are.

She is the one who comforts you when you are unsure, reassuring you that you are not just an addition—you are a part of them.

She is intense and deliberate, taking her time to map out every inch of your body. She enjoys seeing you undone beneath her.

Romantic Gestures:

Teaching you how to fight, braiding your hair with flowers, and giving you small but meaningful gifts.

𝐑𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Ragnar is playful and enigmatic. He makes you laugh but also challenges your mind. He sees your potential and will push you to embrace it.

Ragnar enjoys the chase—he will smirk, taunt, and push you until you break and admit you want him too.

He will test your resolve, seeing if you can match his sharp tongue and quick wit.

When he finally claims you, there is no question—you are his, and he will not let you go.

Ragnar loves seeing you between him and Lagertha, knowing that together, you are unstoppable.

He is a mix of dominance and worship—he can be rough, but always in a way that makes you feel adored. He loves teasing and watching you struggle to hold back.

Romantic Gestures:

Long philosophical talks by the fire, small pranks, overwhelming and sudden displays of passion.

[hotelasian]

WordPress Website Design Company in UK

Are you looking for a reliable WordPress website design company in the UK or USA? Look no further than LDS Engineers, one of the top WordPress developers in the USA. We specialize in creating responsive and user-friendly websites that perform seamlessly on both web and mobile platforms. Our team of skilled WordPress developers has successfully delivered numerous projects across various industries and countries, including the US, UK, India, and Australia.

At LDS Engineers, we understand that every business has unique needs, which is why we offer customized WordPress solutions tailored to your requirements. Whether you need a small blog, a corporate website, or a large-scale platform with numerous pages, we’ve got you covered. Our expertise in WordPress development allows us to build websites that are not only visually appealing but also highly functional, ensuring a smooth user experience.

Our team also excels in creating custom WordPress plugins, enabling you to enhance the functionality of your site without the need for programming knowledge. We focus on delivering high-quality, responsive designs that ensure your site looks great and operates flawlessly across all devices, from desktops to smartphones.

As one of the leading WordPress development agencies, we take a business-oriented approach to web design, ensuring that your website meets your goals and drives results. Whether you need a CMS website, a new design, or specialized web development services, LDS Engineers has the expertise to bring your vision to life. Let us help you create a website that not only stands out but also performs at its best in today’s digital landscape.

WordPress Website Design Company, Web Agencies, CMS Website, Web design Agency, Web Design Company, Web Design, and Development, Responsive Web Design, Responsive Website, Word press Plugins, Word press Developer.