Red, White, And Blew Em' All Away
Red, White, and Blew em' All Away
Summary : Bucky asks John Walker to set him up with his best friend. Of course it's an unnecessarily complicated plan.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x sniper! reader (she/her), Best friend!John Walker
Warnings/tags : Thunderbolts* spoilers!!!!!!! Fluff, Cursing, brief mention of trauma. Implied sex. Brief mention of death. John has massive Ross from friends energy in this one. Mutual pining???? Everyone lives in the tower. (Please let me know if I miss anything!!!)
Word count : 5.3k
Note : This was inspired by the song Supersoaker by Kings of Leon. I’ll reply to some asks/comments soon since I’ve been short on time! If you’d like to be on the taglist, message me! It gets lost in the comments sometimes. I’m also closing it soon since it's getting a bit out of hand. Anyone have any suggestions on how to organise taglists better? Anyway, enjoy!
You were one of the most lethal soldiers of your generation—at least, you had been. Back in the 75th Ranger Regiment, you were very close with both John Walker and Lemar Hoskins. They were family, as far as you were concerned.
You never used to question orders. Back in the unit, that wasn’t your job. You were a sniper. You saw the world through a scope, in gradients of distance, timing, and target confirmation. You didn’t hesitate.
Lemar used to say, “You think too much after the mission.”
You’d reply with a dismissive chuckle, “That’s the only time it’s safe to think.”
But watching Lemar die changed something in you. You saw it in slow motion— the way his back hit the pillar, horrified as John’s guttural rage as you stood frozen on the spot.
When you saw him raise the shield, you knew what he was going to do. But you didn’t stop him. Maybe you couldn’t. Maybe you didn’t want to.
Watching John—your brother in arms—bring down his shield like a guillotine on a surrendering man snapped the last thread of who you thought you were.
So you fought Sam and Bucky in Latvia, trying to explain that John was in grief. You knew what he did was wrong, but fuck— you’ve just lost Lemar, too.
Because if he wasn’t your field partner, who the hell were you?
You held your own for a while— until Bucky disarmed you, pressed you against a wall, breath ragged, eyes wild. You’d never admit it, but that the moment stuck with you, burned itself into your memory like a scar on skin.
After the dust settled and Karli was gone, Sam reached out. He saw something in you. He dragged you to the VA, made you talk, made you work through what you felt.
You started climbing out of the pit. And then, she came—Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, with a promise of purpose and redemption. Just like that, you were right back at John’s side, following orders again.
—
But it was different now.
After New York, after pulling Bob out of his literal void, you had… a family.
And you moved to Avengers tower with that family.
Bucky started noticing you more after that day. He always had, if he was being honest. From the first time you pulled the bolt on your M24 with that annoying little pretty smirk after you, John, and Lemar helped him and Sam with the Flag Smashers the first time he met you.
You weren’t just good— you were dangerous. And that caught his attention.
So when you both moved to live in the Avengers tower full-time, you and Bucky, ironically, clicked. Two ex-army snipers, worn out by decades of destruction, it felt like a no-brainer. You’d never admit it to anyone, but you thought he was stupidly hot even when he had a knife to your throat during training. He, likewise, thought your smile was devastating.
You sparred. You bantered. You shot rounds together every morning now at the Avengers compound.
It was a ritual at this point. 0600 at the shooting range. You and Bucky would be shoulder to shoulder, trash-talking, competing, and trying to out-shoot each other like teenagers in basic training. The bullet holes on your targets were always nearly stacked.
“Can’t believe a relic like you still has steady hands,” you teased once.
Bucky rolled his eyes. “Can’t believe you’ve got all these fancy new tech, and still can’t beat me. Back in the 40s, all I had was a good eye.”
“Whatever, old man,” You huffed, but smiled. He thought it was the best damn thing he’d ever seen.
So yeah, it’s safe to say Bucky had a crush on you.
The kind of crush that made him forget how to speak like a normal human whenever you looked at him. The kind that made him stalk around in doorways just a second too long, hoping you’d notice. The kind that had him memorising your coffee order and pretending it was just coincidence.
The only problem was that he had absolutely no idea how to ask you out.
So, naturally, he turned to the one person he thought might have some experience in that department.
John Walker—your brother in everything but blood. The man who once challenged a bouncer to arm-wrestle just because you said the guy looked strong. The man who had never, in the history of knowing you, made a subtle decision.
Bucky should have known better.
The second Bucky confessed, he regretted it.
John’s eyes went wide with shock and glee, like a kid on Christmas who just found out his new toy came with explosives. He damn near shouted, “Wait—wait. You have a crush on my best friend?!”
Bucky winced. “Keep your voice down.”
John leaned back and grinned like he just cracked the Pentagon’s launch codes. “Oh ho ho. This is gold. Don’t worry. I got you.”
“John—”
“I’ve got you, Buck,” he insisted, slapping a hand to his shoulder like he was about to make a blood oath. “I’m gonna help you win her over.”
Oh. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
—
It was so bad.
Because instead of helpful advice or moral support—or literally any of the sane things a normal person might do—John decided to be John. Unnecessary, over-complicated, convoluted John.
He ended up setting you up on a blind date with someone from his high school.
Not just someone. Bruce Mallory, the guy everyone hated. The walking red flag. A high school quarterback who used to cheat in every test and called women “females.”
Bucky found out three hours before the date.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, cornering John by the weights like this was a hostage negotiation.
“Relax,” John said like this was all going according to plan. “It’s strategy.”
“Strategy?”
“Yeah, man. Trust me.” He leaned forward like he was about to reveal top-level clearance intelligence. “She needs a push. I know her enough to know likes you, but she thinks you’re out of her league.”
Bucky huffed. “That’s insane.”
“Exactly,” John said, like that somehow made sense. “So, I set her up with a guy I know. Total douchebag. Real fucking dickhead. She’ll hate the date. Then you swoop in afterward, say something funny, remind her what a good guy looks like. Boom. Bucky gets the girl.”
Bucky stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “You’re telling me… you intentionally set her up for a bad time so I’d look better by comparison?”
John looked insulted that he even had to explain. “It’s foolproof.”
Foolproof. Right. Coming from the divorced guy.
Bucky groaned.
Somehow, this had become his life.
“See? Bruce Mallory,” John said, showing him this guy’s old high school photo on his phone. “Used to sell oregano as weed in high school. Had three girlfriends at the same time until they all found out at prom and cornered him by the punch bowl. Absolute legend.”
Bucky stared at him.
It sounded unhinged. Bucky should’ve shut it down then and there.
But the truth was, he was desperate. You haunted his thoughts. He couldn’t breathe right when you were in the same room as him. He was in deep, and every time he thought about telling you, his mind conjured a dozen reasons why he shouldn’t.
So yeah. He let John run his little plan.
And then watched it implode in slow motion.
Because when you came back to Avengers Tower after the date, you weren’t angry. You weren’t disappointed or exhausted or cursing John’s name.
You were… happy?
Bucky’s chest tightened like a vice.
“How was it?” he managed, voice tight, his rehearsed smile barely holding.
You shrugged casually. “Really good, actually.”
Bucky blinked. “Oh?”
“Well,” you said thoughtfully, “he’s a pediatrician and goes to the same gym I used to. Volunteers in war zones sometimes for humanitarian missions and he’s currently saving up to establish a free hospital in areas of conflict.”
Bucky’s throat went dry. “Hmm?”
“Yeah. Also, he fosters dogs—he’s got this one now with three legs—and he’s been learning ASL so he can work with hearing-impaired kids.”
Bucky felt the world tilt sideways.
“He… fosters dogs?”
“Yeah.” You smiled, and it felt like getting stabbed with a butter knife— it was slow, messy, painful. “We’re going out again next week.”
“Thanks for introducing us, man,” You turned to John, whose mouth was agape from the kitchen, “You’re the best.”
John looked like someone had just told him his credit score was zero. “Uh… y-you’re welcome?”
Bucky laughed. It was a brittle, choking sound that tasted like rust in his throat. “Wow. Great. No, this is… this is great.” He turned to John, eyes cold. “Hey. John? Can we talk? Just real quick. In the hallway. Now.”
John followed him knowing he would get an earful. The second the door shut, Bucky pointed at him.
“What the hell did you do?!”
John threw his hands up. “How was I supposed to know he’d go through a redemption arc?!”
“You told me he was a human garbage fire!”
“He was! Last time I saw him he was getting dumped three times simultaneously. I didn’t know he’d become freakin’ Mother Teresa with a gym membership!”
“He volunteers in war zones, John!”
“I know!”
Bucky groaned, dragging a hand down his face like he was trying to peel off his skin. “She was supposed to hate him. I was gonna show up, make her laugh—”
John winced. “Yeah, that was the plan. But apparently, Bruce Mallory became Ghandi’s hot cousin, I know.” He paced around the room, “which means… I need to come up with a plan B.”
—
Meanwhile, you were sitting in the common room trying not to scream into a pillow.
Because Bruce Mallory was great. He was smart, kind, and selfless. But you knew exactly why you’d said yes to a second date.
Because you had to get over Bucky Barnes.
You’d been crushing on him for months. Hopelessly. Pathetically. Every glance, every half-smile had rooted deeper in your chest like a splinter you didn’t want to remove. But he was a war hero—broken and still healing, older than time yet still disgustingly handsome. He was Bucky Barnes.
There was no version of reality where someone like him would stoop so low and choose someone like you.
So when John set you up and Bruce Mallory came along, you stupidly thought, maybe if you dated someone else, it would fill that hole that Bucky left in your heart. Maybe it would help you let go of the fantasy of ever being with the former winter soldier.
So yes. You’re going on a second date, even if it was for all the wrong reasons.
—
You went on the second date next week and didn’t say much after, just that it went “well” and you were “going on a third.” No dreamy smiles, but still— no complaints either.
Which, for Bucky, not knowing everything was somehow worse.
He stood in the gym, punching a bag so hard it nearly came off the chain.
Across the room, John leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching him implode.
“She didn’t rave about it,” John said helpfully. “That’s something, right?”
Bucky didn’t respond and just kept punching.
“She didn’t not like it,” John added. “But you know, not every spark sets the world on fire. Maybe she’s just... being polite.”
“John,” Bucky growled, sweat dripping from his temples. “Do you have a Plan B?”
John nodded, a little too quickly. “Absolutely. We’re going on a family vacation.”
—
“Team bonding weekend!” he announced in the New Avengers group chat like it was to pile a group of super-operatives and Bob into a rented cabin in the woods for a little R&R.
Yelena immediately called dibs on making the s’mores and threatened anyone who brought off-brand marshmallows.
Bob asked if the cabin had satellite TV.
Ava sent a thumbs-up and a gif alluding to arson.
Alexei promised “memorable Soviet campfire tales.”
And Bucky was both extremely nervous and cautiously hopeful. Maybe this was the break he needed— a moment for you to see him outside the chaos.
Plus, John was undeterred. Because this wasn’t about s’mores or a holiday. This was about you and Bucky finally getting your heads out of your asses and realising you were cosmically meant for each other.
The centerpiece of his romantic heist was one single strategically placed bed.
He got there early and rigged the room assignment, going so far as to fake a DO NOT USE sign on the air mattress. He removed the backup cot and hid it in the woods.
It was all going to work. Maybe you would get a confession. Maybe a kiss under the stars.
What he didn’t account for was your complete and utter, soul-crushing obliviousness.
—
When you got to the cabin and walked into the room, you took one look at the bed, then looked at Bucky—already slightly pink in the ears—and then just shrugged.
“Two seater,” you said, tossing your duffel onto the small, barely padded couch in the corner of the bedroom. “I’ve slept on debris-filled floors. This’ll be a luxury.”
Bucky muttered a curse under his breath. “You’re sleeping on the couch?”
“Well, yeah,” you shrugged, “You’ve got the vibranium arm. Probably not great for furniture. Go take the bed.”
“No,” he insisted. “You take the bed. It’s final.”
You raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “You pulling rank on me, Sergeant?”
Bucky loved it when you called him that. “I’ll make it an order if I have to.”
“Oh, sir, yes sir,” you said with a playful laugh.
The flirty tension was there, for half a second.
It was enough for Bucky to remember how soul-crushing his feelings for you were.
—
The evening passed in a haze of awkward not-quite moments.
Outside, the others drank by the firepit. Yelena was teaching Ava how to make s’mores using a knife for a stick. Alexei was yelling about surviving a Siberian winter inside a collapsed barn with only a spoon and a shield.
When you excused yourself early—“Gonna crash”—Bucky followed too quickly. “Yeah. Same. ‘M exhausted.”
You both entered the room and settled into the roles you had clearly assigned yourselves: You on the bed, arms crossed behind your head, and Bucky on the couch, perched like it might collapse under the weight of his own emotional constipation.
And outside the window, just beyond the tree line, John Walker lurked like a raccoon, peeking through the curtains and mouthing: “DO SOMETHING.”
Bucky didn’t. Of course he didn’t.
He just sat there until the silence got too loud to ignore.
And because Bucky apparently hated himself, he asked the one question he absolutely shouldn’t have. “So… how’s Bruce Mallory?”
You looked over, surprised. “He’s good. Actually good. I was surprised. When John said ‘high school friend,’ I thought he’d be a creep. Most of the guys I’ve met from his past are… dumpster fires.”
Bucky forced a civil nod. “That’s… great. Just great.”
You tilted your head. “You okay?”
“Me? Yeah. Sure. Sounds like a nice guy.”
You’d hoped—just a little—that he’d show something. Jealousy, maybe. Some sign that maybe he cared.
But there was nothing. Just that same unreadable distant face.
And the lack of reaction hit harder than any rejection.
You pulled the blanket tighter around you and turned your back. “Yeah, I guess… I’m gonna see him again.”
Bucky’s voice was flat. “Have fun.”
That was it.
No follow-up. No argument. No protest.
You closed your eyes.
And across the room, Bucky stared at the ceiling like it knew he’d just let the only person he wanted walk a little further away. Again.
Outside, John peeked through the window one last time.
You were asleep on the bed.
Bucky was wide awake on the couch.
And John, crouched behind a tree with a fistful of s’mores, muttered furiously, “Goddammit.”
—
After the fourth date, you came home smiling. Nothing euphoric, nothing giddy—just… content.
Which killed Bucky inside.
So when he asked, against every warning in his head, “going on a fourth date?”—and you answered with a quiet “yeah”—he didn’t flinch.
He just smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
John, standing nearby, turned to him the second you walked out of the hallway.
“Okay. Okay,” he started, “This is it. Emergency measures. We’re moving to Plan C.”
Bucky shook his head immediately. “John, it’s over.”
“Plan C is going to work.”
“I said no.” His voice didn’t rise, but it was cold. “Leave it.”
Bucky had reached that particularly cruel stage of heartbreak—the one where everything about him turned a little too polite. He’d only smile when you made a joke. Compliment your shot grouping briefly at the range. Nod when you passed him in the hall, and then walked away before you could see the way it killed him to be near you.
And you were not better off.
Bruce Mallory was… kind. Charming. Smart. He didn’t just talk, he listened. He asked questions. Sent you little check-ins during long missions. He liked your dark humour and never looked at your scars like they were something to ignore or erase.
But still—every time Bucky walked into a room, you felt the same electric flutter in your chest, like your heart forgot what it was supposed to feel, like it didn’t care that you’d ruled him out months ago as something impossible.
Because surely, surely, Bucky didn’t want you like that.
So you told yourself Bruce was a good choice. That maybe a few more dates would silence the crush you’d spent so long burying. That maybe Bucky would stop living rent-free in your head.
But you were John Walker’s best friend.
And he knew better.
So as Plan C, John thought that if he’d whisper the truth into the right ear, it would spread like a quiet fire until you realised what had been in front of you the whole time.
He picked his weapon: Yelena.
During sparring, he said it casually. “Hey, so, if it ever comes up… maybe you could mention that Bucky’s got a thing for her. Like, plant the seed.”
Yelena snorted, blocking his punch with ease. “You want me to gossip?”
“It’s not gossip,” he said, ducking her counter. “It’s… just, well, true.”
She shrugged, unbothered. “Sure.”
The next day later, while sharpening a knife, Yelena said to Ava, “Apparently Bucky’s got a sad little sniper crush.”
During a tech debrief, Ava pointed at you when you walked past and whispered to Alexei, “Bucky’s in love with her. Isn’t that sweet?”
Alexei, profoundly misunderstanding the nuance, leaned over to Bob during lunch and declared with confidence, “Bucky is madly in love with her. They are clearly dating.”
Which is how, in the middle of an otherwise average Tuesday dinner in the Avengers compound— Bob looked up from his fifth plate and casually said, “So I heard you’re dating now. I thought you were going on with Walker’s old football friend.”
Forks froze and chewing stopped.
You looked up. “...What?”
Bob, all golden retriever-like his enthusiasm, smiled between you and Bucky. “Bucky’s in love with you, right? Alexei said so.”
Across the table, Bucky looked like he’d just taken a bullet in the chest.
He wanted to speak, to explain, to lie, to run.
But you chuckled too quickly. Too loudly.
“Oh! No—no, that’s—you probably misheard,” you said, waving a hand, forcing ease into your voice. “That’s not—I mean, Bucky doesn’t—come on. It’s Bucky Barnes.”
You said his name like it was sacred, like it belonged somewhere far above your head, up in the clouds with legends and gods.
You turned back to your food, smiling awkwardly. “He’s just nice to me because we shoot together. That’s it.”
Bucky didn’t move. Because how could he?
You’d shut it down so fast, it broke his heart into a million little pieces.
To you, shutting it down made perfect sense.
Because how could someone like Bucky — war hero, former congressman, team leader—look at you and want you?
Even if he did.
Even if every morning with you on the range made the day better. Even if your voice could pull him out of his worst spiral. Even if he'd give anything just to hear you say his name.
But he said nothing.
And across the room, John Walker sat in silence, hands limp around his fork, watching the flaming wreckage of Plan C.
After dinner, Bucky found John in the kitchen.
“Okay, that did not go how I planned,” He said to Bucky. “Plan E. Or F. Whatever. I’ll fix it. I swear I’ll fix it.”
Behind him, Bucky sighed. “John. Stop.”
John turned, his eyes were too gentle for someone who was normally so brash.
Bucky shook his head. “You were wrong,” he said sadly, looking utterly lost in his own head. “She doesn’t like me.”
But John knew you, so by extension, he knew how wrong Bucky was.
—
Today was the day of your fourth date. You were almost at the elevator— you had your coat on, keys in hand, and an intoxicating trace of perfume behind your ear—when John stopped you.
He just stood in the hallway to the tower’s residential floor with his arms crossed. You paused, blinking. “What do you want, man?”
He looked you dead in the eye and said, flatly, “You know Bruce Mallory lied to get Katie Jansen suspended in high school, right?”
Your brows shot up. “What?”
“Yeah,” he nodded solemnly, “Faked some emails, told the principal she was selling test answers. All because she was gonna out him for cheating on her with her sister.”
You stared. “What?”
“And he used to smoke in the cafeteria,” John added, like that was somehow worse.
“That was surely years ago, John,” you said, suspicion blooming in your chest. “Besides, why are you telling me this now? You’re the one who set me up with him.”
John held up both hands, like he wasn’t also the arsonist in this particular fire. “Look, all I’m saying is— I’m your best friend. I know you. And I don’t think you’d actually like Bruce Mallory.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Why would you set me up with someone you don’t think I’d like?”
“I was trying to push you in the right direction!”
“What fucking direction, Walker?” You demanded, very confused all of a sudden.
“Ugh, look,” John said defensively. “Last I saw him, he was trashing locker rooms and pissing behind the bleachers. I didn’t realize he’d gone and joined Doctors Without Borders and cleaned up his whole life.”
“Did you, what, set me up to fail?” You crossed your arms. The idea of that seemed impossible, but you also knew how your best friend sometimes played 4D chess with very questionable motives.
“I’m just saying,” John muttered under his breath, “he’s not your type.”
You stepped back and raised your eyebrows. “And what exactly is my type?”
John hesitated, then shrugged like it was obvious. “Taller than you. Broody. Built like a brick wall. Shoots better than you half the time and won’t let you forget it. Has a metal arm, probably.”
Your jaw dropped, blinking slowly.
He knew of your crush?
Of course. Of course he knew.
“…You just described Bucky.”
John tilted his head. “Well, yeah.”
You stood there—mouth open and brain short-circuiting like a glitching circuit board. “I—okay, maybe, but that doesn’t mean anything! That’s Bucky Barnes. He’s out of my league!”
John actually groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You—you absolute dumbass.”
“Excuse me?!”
“BOB WASN’T LYING!” John shouted, shaking you by the shoulders as if it was going to knock some sense into you.
You gulped. “What?!”
“Bucky is in love with you, you idiot!” John practically yelled, voice echoing through the hallway. “He’s been in love with you since you knocked him on his ass in training week one! Do you never notice how he paces around like a sad little Victorian widow every time you go out with that pediatrician saint?! He just thinks he’s too fucked for you, which again: Not true!”
You just… froze. For once, you had no witty comeback.
John pointed at your chest, eyes narrowed with brotherly fury. “I cannot believe I have to say this out loud: you are not out of anyone’s league. Least of all his. You are literally his exact brand of damaged.”
You couldn’t breathe. Your heart felt like it had slammed into a wall and kept beating anyway.
“…I need to find Bucky,” you finally whispered.
John nodded, satisfied, already pulling his phone out. “I’ll text Bruce Mallory. Tell him you’ve got a classified emergency. You can explain later.”
You hesitated at the elevator door. “But—”
“You’re about to go find the guy who thinks your laugh is the only thing worth surviving for.” John arched his brow. “Mallory hasn’t even brought up ‘exclusive dating’ yet. He’ll be fine.”
—
You went downstairs and stood outside Bucky’s door.
You were really doing this, were you?
You raised your hand and knocked—quietly at first, then a bit firmer when there was no answer.
There was silence for a bit, and then a shuffle. The. Footsteps. Then you heard the sound of something—or someone—hitting the floor and a small “shit,” muffled through the door.
When it opened, Bucky stood in the doorway, shirtless, wearing those low gray sweats that should honestly be illegal on him, as if he just got back from the gym.
And when he saw you, his breath hitched.
His eyes trailed from your heels, up your legs, over the curve of your waist, and finally rested on your face—hair done, lips glossed and parted slightly in hesitation.
“...You look—” His voice faltered. You didn’t need any of this— Bucky loved you as is, but seeing you go through all this effort for another man hurt. “Wow. You got all dressed up for him, huh?”
He meant for it to sound casual, even teasing. But they came out almost bitter.
You swallowed. Your heart was racing, and not for Bruce Mallory.
“I—” you started, then faltered. You looked down at your hands for a second, then back up at him. “I’m not going.”
He tilted his head. “You’re not going on the date?”
You shook your head. “No.”
He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just looked at you like you’d said something in a language he didn’t understand.
“I was.” You stepped in a little closer. “But I couldn’t do it.”
Bucky’s brow furrowed, “Why not?”
You hesitated, your voice dipping lower. “Because I realised I didn’t want to see him.”
His head lowered just slightly. “I… well. What—”
You interrupted him, and your throat felt tight. “I wanted to see you.”
You shifted your weight, arms wrapping loosely around yourself. “And… John kind of straight up told me.”
Bucky sighed. “Told you what?”
You let out a long breath, the words tumbling out in a rush. “That you liked me. That you get weird when I talk about going on dates, and that the reason you haven’t said anything is because you think you’re too messed up, or broken, or whatever Bucky Barnes excuse you’ve decided to make up this month.”
A small, crooked smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. “He said all that?”
“Well… not verbatim,” you chuckled. “And the thing is…” You hesitated. “I never thought I had a chance.”
His brow creased. “What?”
“I thought you were out of my league,” you said gently. “You’re… you. You’ve been through hell and survived it. You’re unfairly hot even when you’re grumpy. And I’m just me.”
He stepped toward you, pulled you in by the wrist and closed the door. Your heart started racing out at your chest.
“You’re not ‘just’ anything,” he insisted. “You’re kind. You’re stubborn. You laugh like the world isn’t on fire. You’re gorgeous, not to mention. And you… you see me. Not the Winter Soldier. Not the Avenger. Just… me.”
You didn’t even realise you were crying until his thumb brushed beneath your eye, catching a tear.
He cupped your face, thumb trailing your cheekbone, eyes locked with yours.
“C’mere,” he whispered, barely audibly.
You didn’t hesitate. You closed the gap and kissed him.
It wasn’t desperate or frantic. It was slow and deep—like every moment of tension between you had been leading up to this. His mouth moved against yours like he already knew the rhythm of your soul. His metal hand found the small of your back, fingers wrapping possessively. The other curled gently at your chin, tilting your face so he could kiss you better
You sighed into him, hands bunching in the fabric of his sweats as he backed you against the door, never breaking the kiss. His tongue swept against yours, coaxing a low moan from your throat, and he smiled into the kiss like he’d just won a war.
When he finally pulled back, your foreheads pressed together, he whispered, “Tell me you’re mine now,” he whispered, “Because I don’t think I can go back to pretending I don’t want you.”
“I think…” you nodded with a whisper, “I’ve always been yours.”
He grinned that boyish grin, like the sun breaking through clouds.
—
The next morning, the sun was barely up, the building was still quiet — too early for most of the other avengers — but not for you and Bucky.
You were standing barefoot in front of the stove, one of Bucky’s sweatshirts drowning your frame, your hair a little messy from the night before. He was behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder as he murmured in your ear.
“I’m gonna burn the pancakes if you keep distracting me,” you teased, half-laughing as he pressed a warm kiss to the curve of your neck.
“Worth it,” he muttered, nuzzling in like he didn’t care about breakfast at all.
You giggled and leaned into him anyway, flipping the batter one-handed while his fingers played idly with the hem of your — well, his — sweatshirt. He hadn’t stopped touching you since you woke up. A kiss to your cheek while you brushed your teeth. A gentle pull back into bed when you tried to get up. And now… this.
Not that you were complaining.
He handed you the toast while you plated the eggs, sneaking another kiss to your temple as you reached up into the cabinet.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured.
Then came a little creak.
Both of you turned toward the hallway as a pair of socked feet appeared near the door. And there was John. Peeking around the frame like a kid in pajamas. His smile was smug enough to power the whole building.
“I did that,” he announced proudly, pointing at the two of you.
You narrowed your eyes. “You literally almost made it worse.”
“Shhh,” John put a finger to his lips. “Don’t ruin it. Let me have this.”
Bucky chuckled behind you, grabbing two mugs from the counter. “Let him gloat. It’ll keep him busy for a while.”
John leaned in toward Ava, who’d flickered into existence behind him with a cup of tea— as she often didn’t bother to control her phasing when she was still tired. “I just gotta figure out how to convince them to name their firstborn after me,” he whispered dramatically.
Ava rolled her eyes. “John, they’ve been dating for eleven hours.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering how she knew the exact timestamp. “Wha—”
She raised her hand before you could ask. “You were loud,” she said, as if stating the obvious, “I’m pretty sure the whole tower knows by now.”
You turned back to the stove, trying not to let the heat creep up your cheeks as Bucky slid beside you. His thumb brushed over your knuckles. “Firstborn, huh?” he said against your ear.
You gave him a look. “Don’t encourage him.”
John, from the couch, said, “Middle name at least! I’m not asking for much.”
And with that, you leaned into him again, plate in one hand, his fingers in the other.
If this was how mornings were going to be now — then yeah, you could definitely get used to this.
-end.
General Bucky taglist:
@hotlinepanda @snflwr-vol6 @ruexj283 @2honeybees @read-just-cant
@shanksstrawhat @mystictf @globetrotter28 @thebuckybarnesvault@average-vibe
@winchestert101 @mystictf @globetrotter28 @shanksstrawhat @scariusaquarius
@reckless007 @hextech-bros @daydreamgoddess14 @96jnie @pono-pura-vida
@buckyslove1917 @notsostrangerthing @flow33didontsmoke @qvynrand @blackbirdwitch22
@torntaltos @seventeen-x @ren-ni @iilsenewman @slayerofthevampire
@hiphip-horray @jbbucketlist @melotyy @ethereal-witch24 @samfunko
@lilteef @hi172826 @pklol @average-vibe @shanksstrawhat
@shower-me-with-roses @athenabarnes @scarwidow @thriving-n-jiving @dilfsaresohot
@helloxgoodbi @undf-stuff @sapphirebarnes @hzdhrtss @softhornymess
@samfunko @wh1sp @anonymousreader4d7 @mathcat345 @escapefromrealitylol
@imjusthere1161 @sleepysongbirdsings @fuckybarnes @yn-stories-are-my-life
@cjand10 @nerdreader @am-3-thyst @wingstoyourdreams @lori19
@goldengubs @maryevm @helen-2003 @maryssong23 @fan4astic
@yesshewrites1 @thewiselionessss @sangsterizada @jaderabbitt @softpia
@hopeofwinter @nevereclipse @tellybearryyyy @buckybarneswife125 @buckybarneswife125
More Posts from Twotablelamps and Others
friendly introductions – bucky barnes
summary: bucky unexpectedly shows up at your apartment, and he's brought a few people with him pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader (ft. the thunderbolts*) word count: 3.4k tags: thunderbolts* shenanigans, spoilers here and there obvs, slight miscommunication, big happy dysfunctional family in the making, google translator was used for the russian words (sorry), kissing, little bit of angst and little bit of fluff notes: i just saw the movie yesterday and as soon as i got back home i decided to write this, which is loosely connected to this fic i posted recently. i just loved the thunderbolts* so much they mean the entire world to me right now. perhaps more fics are coming in the future because i have lots of ideas!!! as always, i hope you enjoy
please reblog and/or comment if you enjoy!
all masterlists | marvel masterlist | part 1 (not strictly necessary to read this one tho)
“Sorry for such short notice,” Bucky mutters as soon as you open the door for him and the rest of the entire group. You could tell he’s been having a pretty rough time just by looking at him. Hair messy, frowning more than usual, dirty clothing and a cut on his left cheek. The rest of the people he’s with don’t look any better. It wouldn’t take an expert to figure out they’ve been in some kind of combat and, most likely, they didn’t come on top.
“It’s okay,” you quickly reassure him, leaving the door open until every single one of them were inside your apartment, closing it behind them. “Can I ask what happened?”
“We…uh, got our ass kicked, basically,” he replies, sounding quite exhausted.
You take a second to look at the group. Unfamiliar faces of people you could only assume are in the superhero/villain/whatever business. There’s a blonde woman who immediately leans against one of the walls of your living room, trying to get some sort of rest after the fight. The other woman stays by the entrance and you can’t help but admire how cool her suit is. There’s algo a guy in a red suit and he looks absolutely huge and terrifying, but the smile he sends your way with the silly little wave he makes as you make eye contact gives you the impression that he might not be as intimidating as you initially thought.
And then, your eyes focus on the other person in the room.
“You,” is all you say, your voice sounding anything but welcoming.
Everyone turns to look at Walker, who offers you an awkward smile. “Yeah, hi.”
“You two know each other?” the blonde one asks.
“Unfortunately,” you reply, keeping your eyes on the guy at all times. You know enough about John Walker to be stupid enough to let him out of your sight. “Listen, I don’t know what just happened to you guys, but in case Bucky hasn’t warned you already, you can’t trust this piece of shit.”
Noticing you’re starting to get a little heated by his presence, Bucky wraps an arm around your waist from behind, just in case you decide to go over him and confront him for everything that has happened in the past. “It’s okay. He’s here to help.”
You turn to look at him like he just said the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard in your life, but he simply stares back at you with a serious expression, nodding as if to emphasize on his previous statement, trying to let you know you can actually trust the guy. When you turn back to look at Walker, he raises both hands in the air as a sign to further prove that he’s harmless.
“I’ll be keeping an eye out,” you warn him, pointing your finger at him.
“That’s fair,” he nods.
“Whoa, she’s feisty!” you hear the excited voice of the guy in the red suit as he lets out a short chuckle. “I like her already!”
You feel Bucky’s grip around your waist tightening. “We’re just here to get some cover and figure out our next move.”
Suddenly remembering the fact that all these strangers are standing in various spots in your living room, you get away from Bucky to walk over to your couch. “Oh, so sorry! What a terrible host,” you attempt to joke a little in hopes of lightening the mood, quickly removing your laptop and various papers scattered across your couch. “Please, take a seat!”
None of them move at first, but they eventually accept the invitation and walk towards your couch to sit down. All except Walker, who decides to stay in the same spot he’s been since he entered your apartment. Not like you care, so you just let him stand there on his own.
A few awkward introductions later and you already know everyone. Alexei, Ava and Yelena. One a total stranger and the others slightly familiar to you due to them being related to Natasha. You couldn’t bring yourself to say her name out loud, though. If you struggle to think about her without bursting out crying, you can’t even imagine what it would be like for her dad and sister. Last thing you want is to cause them any discomfort.
“And how exactly do you know each other?” Yelena asks you and Bucky after you introduce yourself to them too.
“Former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent,” Bucky replies before you can say anything, and you can’t help but turn to look at him with a slightly confused expression. “We’ve been friends for a very long time.”
Friends. Sure. Whatever. If that’s what he wants to call it…
After what happened last time you were in D.C., Bucky was constantly making trips to New York to visit you. You’re not officially dating, but it’s established that you’re exclusive. Long distance isn’t ideal, but you’ve made it work so far. Probably the happiest months of your life. But now…you hear him introducing you as his friend. It’s not really a big deal. Technically you are friends? It shouldn’t affect you as much as it does, but…you’re internally fuming right now.
Still, you decide not to say anything regarding that. He’s always been quite a reserved person, so perhaps he didn’t feel comfortable enough to share that information with them just yet. “Can I get you anything to drink?” you decide to ask, looking at everyone else.
“We’re not-”
“I’m sure a glass of water won’t kill anybody,” you say, immediately cutting Bucky off.
There’s a brief silence before Ava speaks. “I’ll have a glass of water. Thank you.”
You look at Yelena as she shortly nods before you focus on Alexei. “Do you perhaps have something else other than water?”
“Dad,” Yelena warns him.
You ignore that short interaction. “Something like what?”
“Like vodka,” he replies simply, like it’s a normal request. Perhaps the russian accent and the fact that he does look like a walking Soviet propaganda adds context to it.
“Dad!” Yelena repeats herself, this time in a louder voice, before hiding her face in her hands. The scene of her getting embarrassed by her dad’s behavior is actually hilarious.
“Two glasses of water and one glass of vodka, got it.” Then it was time to acknowledge Walker again. Even when you deeply hate the guy, you still want to be polite. “Do you want anything?”
“Uh…just water,” he mutters, still unsure on how to really talk to you. It’s ironic how quiet he is right now, considering he had a hard time shutting his mouth when you first met him. “Thank you.”
You offer the group a smile before excusing yourself to go to your kitchen, leaving them momentarily alone. Bucky was about to speak, wanting to initiate a debate on what their plan is going to be to fight against someone as powerful and seemingly invincible as Sentry, but Yelena speaks before he does.
“Now, would you mind telling us how you really know each other?”
Bucky looks immediately confused. “What do you mean?”
“You know I was trained to be a spy since I was very little.”
“Surely you don’t say it enough,” Walker mutters, earning an unamused look from her.
“That must really bother you, Mr. I-was-in-the-military,” Ava chimes in, rolling her eyes.
Ignoring both of them, Yelena decides to continue. “I’m very good at reading people, Bucky. She almost wanted to punch you in the face when you said you two were friends, which let’s me know the comment upset her,” she says, tilting her head to the side. “Why is that?”
“Ah! That’s your lover!” Alexei comments with pleasant surprise.
“And you didn’t introduce her as your girlfriend?” Ava says shortly after, giving him a disapproving look. “No wonder she would want to punch you in the face.”
“Yeah, that’s not cool, man,” Walker agrees from his spot in the living room.
Alexei’s cheerfulness dries down, nodding. “I agree. It’s not very nice.”
Bucky scoffs, crossing his arms across his chest in a defensive manner. He couldn’t believe these people were judging him over something he thought was meaningless. It was just a way to keep his private life private. Why should they know he’s dating anybody? They’re not his friends to be sharing information like that with them. And it’s not like they’re ever going to see you again anyway. Why is this such a big deal?
“Whoever I date or don’t date it’s not your business,” he simply replies.
Ava scoffs this time. “Don’t bring us to your girlfriend’s flat then.”
“When did you guys became a thing?” Walker asks this time, looking like he's thinking back on it in hopes of remembering any indication that might've gave it away.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, getting more and more exasperated. “We barely got out of that fight against Valentina’s experiment and it’s a matter of time before we have to face him again. Why are we even talking about this?”
“Oh, Bucky,” Yelena shakes her head in a condescending manner. “You’re right, we do not care about your lovelife. Thinking about it makes me sick, actually. But she looked really hurt by what you said, so perhaps you should go talk to her and make things right.”
The other three agreed with Yelena almost immediately, and Bucky just stood there looking at them in disbelief because why are they giving him their input on his relationship? Why is Yelena giving him advice? Why are they getting involved in Bucky’s personal life?
But instead of arguing, he decides to listen to them and heads towards the kitchen. He walks in just in time to see you pouring Alexei an entire glass of vodka as he requested, the other three glasses of water already filled.
“Oh, good. You’re here,” you say nonchalantly, like what Yelena said about you wanting to punch him in the face was just something she misread in your body language. You surely don’t look like you're thinking about violence right now. “Could you help me with the drinks, please?”
Perhaps Yelena was wrong, but just in case she wasn’t, he decided to ask about it. “Are you okay?”
You let out a quick and confused chuckle as you store away the almost finished bottle of vodka. “Why would I not be okay? If you’re asking because you brought them here, I think they’re actually very nice…aside from Walker, of course.”
“No, I mean…the way I introduced you to them,” he says in a soft voice, walking closer to you. “I probably shouldn’t have said you were my friend.”
There’s a brief pause between you, until you’re eventually shrugging. “It’s fine.”
“Is it?” he insists, standing right before you as he grabs your hands in his. “Talk to me.”
You hesitate a little before eventually giving in. “I mean, you can’t expect me to be thrilled to hear you introduce me to a bunch of people as just your friend.”
Bucky sighs. Yelena was right. “I’m so sorry,” he says almost immediately, giving your hands a light squeeze. “I just met these people and I highly doubt we’ll keep in touch after this. I didn’t want to share that information with them. We’re not exactly…close like that,” he explains himself, looking genuinely sorry for what he said. “I should’ve considered how that would make you feel, or at least tried to explain why I did it as soon as I could. I didn’t mean to hurt you or downplay what we have.”
You can tell he’s genuinely sorry, understanding his reasoning behind it. Perhaps you forgot to put into perspective the fact that they’re just super people Bucky has been forced to work with. Not necessarily friends. “It’s okay, I understand.”
Bucky nods, but he still looks absolutely defeated. “I feel terrible,” he mutters. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
You let go of his hands, wrapping your arms around his neck instead. “It’s okay, babe,” you repeat, offering him a soft smile to let him know you forgive him. “I understand you didn’t feel comfortable sharing that with them.”
“I promise I won’t do it again.”
“You’re not obligated to disclose anything with anyone if you don’t feel like it,” you say, just to remind him to do whatever it feels right to him. “But I’m glad we had this conversation to hear each other’s perspective.”
He nods again, still uncertain. You lean in to give him a reassuring kiss before deciding to move away from him to get back to the living room with the rest. He hands the glasses of water to Walker and Yelena, while you hand the other glasses to Ava and Alexei.
The last one takes a big gulp of his glass, letting out a growl of approval. “Smirnoff! Not that Absolut der’mo!”
“I adore him,” you say to Bucky, letting out a quick chuckle as you watch the guy drink the entire glass of vodka in less than two seconds.
“It’ll pass, trust me,” he mutters back to you.
You gently hit his arm as a way of telling him to not be rude, immediately focusing on the cut on his cheek, dried blood around the wound. “I should clean that.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“I do worry, Bucky,” you insist, patting his shoulder before pointing to one of the two chairs at your small dinner table. “Take a seat. I’ll be right back.”
You excuse yourself to go find the first-aid kit to clean the wound on his face. By the time you get back, the group has already started discussing some sort of strategy regarding some ‘Sentry’ person you don’t know absolutely anything about. Perhaps you’ll ask Bucky to give you a proper update on what the hell this whole thing is all about next time you’re alone.
As obedient as ever, Bucky was already sitting on one of the chairs you previously pointed at before leaving, so you walked over to him to attend to his injury. Even if it was a small, almost insignificant little cut, you wanted to take care of him in any capacity you could.
You were gladly surprised when you feel one of his arms wrapping around you, keeping you close as you stand next to him cleaning the dry blood with a small cotton ball before disinfecting the area, finishing it off with a small bandage above the cut.
The whole entire time you took care of Bucky’s wound, the group was talking about their strategy. Just listening to them was enough to figure out why Bucky didn’t think they’d stay in touch once it’s time to part ways. More than half of their interactions are more bickering than actual communication. They clash almost constantly and they don’t seem to agree on much. They’re quite honestly a complete mess. But still...even when it’s difficult to see how a group like this could work, they oddly do. There’s just something about them. Perhaps they’re the prime example of how opposites tend to work together perfectly.
“Done,” you whisper to him, not warning to interrupt their conversation.
“Thanks, doll,” he whispers back, giving you a smile.
After a few more minutes of planning, it was finally time for them to get back out there in hopes to put an end to the threat that seems to loom over New York (and perhaps the entire world). You accompany them to the door, all of them saying their goodbyes to you.
“Thanks for letting us hide here,” Yelena says with a polite smile, offering her hand for a handshake as a way to further prove her gratitude.
“Oh, it’s really nothing. I’m glad I was able to help out,” you reply, accepting her handshake. “And…you know, good luck. You probably don’t need it, obviously, but just in case…”
“You’re adorable,” Ava comments with a smirk, patting your shoulder as her way of saying goodbye.
Alexei doesn’t even say anything. He just straight up walks towards you and wraps his arms around you, lifting you off the ground as he gives you a tight hug. It certainly takes you by surprise, but you pat his back as a way of returning the hug, hearing how Yelena and Bucky are frantically telling him to put you down immediately.
The three of them are already outside your apartment and it’s time to face Walker. He just says a quick “thank you” before walking towards the others that wait for Bucky in the hallway, knowing you probably don’t even want to address him. For now, you decide not to say anything to him. If you do see each other again, perhaps then you’ll try to figure out if you can look past the awful things he has done.
Now Bucky is the one who stands before you and all you can do is hug him as tight as you possibly can, almost not wanting to let him go. You know he’ll be fine. You know he’ll come back to you. But still, you can’t ignore the knot forming at the pit of your stomach, anxiety and fear consuming you at the thought of something happening to him.
He senses how you feel, hugging you back just as tight. “Please be safe,” he whispers.
You break the hug, looking up at him. “I should be telling you that.”
The comment makes him smile softly because it sounds like you're reprimanding him for what he just said. Immediately after, he's placing a hand at the side of your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?”
“Okay,” you nod, still as anxious as you were before. The fact that you still don’t fully know what they’re up against makes your situation worse. If it’s anything remotely similar to an Avenger-like threat, you have plenty of reasons to be afraid. “Just…just take care, please.”
“I will,” he replies, giving you a kiss so sweet and gentle that it practically takes your breath away. He knows you’re worried like never before and he wants to make sure he’s able to give you as much reassurance as he possibly can.
After a few more seconds of him just looking back at you with a soft smile on his face, he moves back from you, knowing he has to leave already.
“Promise you’ll be back soon,” you blurt out as he’s leaving your apartment, still fighting the urge to just yank him back into the apartment to keep him from going back out there.
“I promise you I’ll be back, darling,” he says without any hesitation, knowing he’ll do anything he possibly can to keep his word.
Finally, he closes the door of your apartment, leaving you all alone in there as you try to calm yourself down until everything is back to normal again and he’s here with you. Until he’s back in the safety of the arms of the person he cares most about in this entire world.
You focus on the four empty glasses, the lingering presence of everyone, the trail of dirt their boots left on the floor, the chair Bucky was sitting on just seconds ago...you can only hope they stay safe. Meanwhile, you decide to clean up the living room as a way of distracting yourself.
On the other side of the door, Bucky is turning to look at the group, rolling his eyes when he sees all of them grinning and nodding their hands in approval after witnessing him being so lovey-dovey with you, discovering a sight of him they probably didn’t even know existed.
“Not a single word,” Bucky warns them, immediately walking in between them to get to the elevator.
“What? We can’t say you two looked disgustingly cute back there?” Yelena jokes as she follows after him.
"Who knew that was hiding beneath all that...grumpiness," Ava comments right after.
“I said not a single word,” he repeats, trying to act like he wasn’t feeling terribly embarrassed right now. Or like he didn't find the teasing slightly entertaining. Just slightly.
“I mean, you did look cute,” Walker agrees.
“So cute!” Yelena emphasizes.
Alexei wraps an arm around Bucky’s shoulders, much to his discomfort. “That was adorable. You, my friend, had the eyes of love looking at your zhenshchina!”
“And you had to make it weird,” Ava mutters after Alexei’s comment, just as the elevator doors are closing. translations: der'mo (shit), zhenshchina (woman). again, i apologize if the translation is wrong, i don't speak russian
Supermarket Scare
This idea is originally from @rosenclaws and I HAD to write it. (They actually did turn it into a fic which is here) I took the idea, changed a few things (Logan is boy dad in this one I fear), and idk I guess this is what came out of it lmfao
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Tropes: MILF reader <3
Warnings: None that I know of
Other tags: Logan who is GREAT with kids, but doesn’t know it, extra dramatic backstory that may not be legally accurate bc I said so
Background: You’re raising your adopted son, Arlo, on your own. Wade, Al, and Logan live down the hall from you.
Description: While shopping at the grocery store, you don’t realize that Arlo has let go of the shopping cart. When you look down to talk to him, you realize that he’s gone. Thank god for Wade’s new roommate.
“Can we get some of those little donuts?” Arlo asked, his small hand gripping the shopping cart as you walked down the bread aisle. He knew the rule, if he wanted to walk instead of riding in the cart, he had to hold onto the cart.
“Sure,” you hummed, “What kind? The chocolate ones or the white powdered ones?” You asked.
“The white ones,” he decided. “They’re yummy.”
“White ones it is,” you nodded, stopping the cart in front of the bread you needed. Turning away, you reached up and grabbed a loaf of bread. “You wanna pick out some cereal while we’re here too?” You asked, turning back to the cart, only to find that Arlo was gone.
Looking down the aisle, he was nowhere to be seen.
================
Logan stood on one side of the aisle, observing the different kinds of granola bars. Why were there so many goddamn flavors anyway? His focus was drawn away from the boxes on the shelves when he felt a tug on his pants.
Looking down, he saw a young boy with tears falling down his cheeks.
“Uh,” Logan froze, not sure how to interact with a child. “Hi.”
“I can’t find my mama,” the boy cried, his tears coming down harder.
“What does she look like?” He asked, kneeling down so he was closer to the kid’s height.
The boy only cried in response, clearly scared and missing his mom.
“Alright,” he replied, looking around as he stood up and tried to decide what to do. “Let’s go to the front of the store. Then they can find your mom, okay?”
The boy nodded, letting go of Logan’s pants to hold out both arms at the man. Grabby hands. How could anyone say no to that?
Logan sighed, debating it in his head before leaning down and scooping the boy into his arms. As he walked to the front of the store, the boy’s tears slowed until they eventually came to a stop. The boy laid his head down on Logan’s shoulder while one of his hands held an iron grip on the front of Logan’s flannel.
“Excuse me,” Logan spoke, walking up to the customer service desk.
“How can I help you?” The woman at the desk asked.
“He can’t find his mom,” Logan explained, nodding towards the boy in his arms.
“Let me make an announcement,” the worker gave the boy a sympathetic smile. She picked up a phone from the counter, putting it up to her ear and hitting a few buttons on the keypad. “Attention shoppers, we have a lost little boy at the customer service desk. If he is your child, please come pick him up.” After the announcement was made, she hung the phone up.
“Alright, kid,” Logan said. “Now you just gotta wait for your mom to come get you.”
“I’m Cherie,” the worker spoke softly to the boy. “You wanna stay here with me while we wait on your mom?” She offered, holding out her hands.
Logan moved to pull the child away from him and hand him to Cherie, but Arlo began to cry again. His grip on Logan’s flannel tightened.
“C’mon kid, you gotta let go,” Logan encouraged.
The boy cried harder, bawling as he tried to desperately stay in Logan’s arms.
“It’s alright, angel,” Cherie hushed. Based on her tone, Logan could tell that this woman had certainly dealt with kids before. She was definitely a better person to watch the boy temporarily, but kids want what they want.
“Okay, okay,” Logan relented, holding the boy close to his chest again. “I’ll stay, just stop crying. You don’t have to cry.” He looked to the worker, “I’ll stay with him ‘til his mom gets here.”
Despite being secure in Logan’s arms again, the tears didn’t stop.
“Shhh,” Logan attempted, gently swaying with the boy in his arms. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he’d seen mothers do it with their babies before.
The tears just kept coming.
Logan looked around, spotting a small display of stuffed animals. He reached out with one hand, grabbing the first one he could and holding it up in front of the boy.
“Look at this,” he redirected the boy’s attention, shaking the toy slightly.
Sniffling a few times, the boy in his arms slowly stopped crying. He used his free hand to grab the animal, pulling it to his chest.
“Fox,” he said simply, looking at the orange and white stuffie in his arm. “I like foxes. Thanks.” His voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Yeah, it’s a fox. You’re welcome,” Logan nodded, just happy that he had made the kid stop crying. With his free hand, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few dollars. “For the fox,” he commented to the worker, who just smiled and nodded.
Logan moved to sit down on a bench in the customer service area. As expected, the boy refused to move from his lap. So, there they sat. Logan, a mutant, and on his lap, a lost kid holding a stuffed fox. Quite the pair.
================
“Oh thank god!” You exclaimed as you walked into the customer service area. “Arlo!”
“Mama!” Arlo exclaimed from where he sat on a man’s lap.
“Told you she’d be here,” the man said as he helped Arlo down from his lap. He looked familiar, but you were more concerned about Arlo.
The moment his feet hit the ground, Arlo was running towards you with his arms reaching out.
As he reached you, you dropped to one knee so you could wrap your arms around him. Your arms held him tightly to your chest.
“Honey, I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so worried,” you breathed out, closing your now teary eyes as you held him.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, beginning to cry as you held him.
“Hey, it’s alright, sweetheart,” you assured, pulling away enough so you could see each other’s faces. “You’re not in trouble. Just promise me you won’t run off like that ever again.”
“I promise,” he nodded, leaning back in to cling to you.
You slowly stood, picking Arlo up as you did so.
“Thank you so much,” you spoke to the man that had been with Arlo, who was now standing. Now that you got a good look at him, you knew why you recognized him. “Wait, you’re Wade’s roommate, aren’t you?” You asked.
Logan gives you a strange look, so you continue talking.
“We live down the hall,” you explained. “Arlo loves talking Wade’s ear off whenever we run into each other.”
“Probably because they’re on the same learning level,” Logan joked. He held out a hand for you to shake as he introduced himself. “Logan.”
You supported Arlo on your hip as you took his hand in yours. As you shook his hand, you gave him your name in return.
“And, of course, you’ve met Arlo,” you added, letting go of his (very warm, very large) hand and squeezing the boy in your arms for emphasis.
“Arlo,” Logan smiled slightly at the boy. He hadn’t expected the little munchkin to grow on him so quickly, yet here he was.
“I knew you,” Arlo stated.
“You knew it was Logan?” You asked.
“I knew he was Wade’s friend,” he smiled proudly. “The big guy with kitty ears,” he clarified, pointing to Logan’s hair and giggling.
“Kitty ears?” Logan asked, raising a brow. “I’ve never gotten that before.”
“I like them,” Arlo hummed happily. “They look like fox ears too,” he observed, holding up the stuffed fox with both hands.
Logan let out a breathy chuckle, tucking his hands in his pockets.
“Thank you again,” you told Logan. “I really owe you big time,” you smiled. “It’s just me and Arlo, I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened.”
“No need,” Logan shook his head. Now that he’d learned it was just you and Arlo, he decided to try and flirt with you. “He’s a nice kid. And he’s got a very nice mom,” Logan gave you a small grin, which came across as more of a smirk.
You aren’t sure how to react. It wasn’t like you had guys lining up to date you. Most of them didn’t want to flirt with a single mom. You weren’t even sure if he was flirting. What could you say? You were a little out of practice.
“At least let me make you dinner,” you offered. You tried not to sound too hopeful, but you were almost positive that you’d failed.
“Pretty please,” Arlo chimed in, sticking out his bottom lip and giving Logan his most convincing puppy dog eyes.
“Well when you put it like that,” Logan smiled, reaching a hand out to ruffle Arlo’s hair, which earned him a giggle. “I’d love to.”
“If tomorrow night works for you, we don’t have anything going on,” you suggested.
“Sure,” Logan nodded. “I’m free.”
After deciding on a time, you caught a glance of your watch and realized you had to get Arlo to home to make dinner tonight.
“We should get home, gotta finish shopping and get this little gremlin fed,” you chuckled. “Arlo, tell Logan goodbye.”
“Bye!” Arlo gave Logan a big grin. “We can play when you come over tomorrow.”
“Sounds fun,” Logan nodded, smiling at Arlo.
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” you smiled. “And feel free to stop by anytime,” you added as you started to walk away.
================
“Mama! There’s someone at the door! I bet it’s Logan,” Arlo exclaimed, running into the kitchen, where you were working on finishing dinner.
“Okay, okay,” you chuckled, making sure nothing would burn as you wiped your hands off on a towel and headed to the door with Arlo. You checked the peephole, confirming that it was Logan, before opening the door.
You and Logan didn’t have a chance to speak before Arlo was jumping up and down.
“Logan!” He grinned, practically vibrating with excitement. He held both hands out for Logan.
“Hey, bub,” Logan greeted, picking Arlo up into his arms with a small ‘woosh’ sound. He then turned his attention to you, smiling softly.
“I’m just finishing up dinner,” you hummed, stepping aside and letting Logan in. You shut the door behind him as he toed off his shoes neatly next to the door.
“Take your time,” Logan replied, not wanting you to feel pressured.
“That means we can go play in the living room,” Arlo giggled. “Me and Fink were just playing in there.”
“Fink?” Logan raised a brow. What the hell was a Fink?
“Yeah,” he nodded. “The fox you got me. His name is Fink.”
“Oh,” Logan chuckled softly. “We can go play with Fink before dinner as long as it’s alright with your mom.”
“Please mama,” Arlo looked at you, giving you his brightest smile. “Can me and Logan go play while you cook?”
“You can,” you laughed softly at Arlo’s excitement. “Play nice, okay?”
“I will!” He promised, wriggling around until Logan put him down. He grabbed the man’s hand, tugging on it. “C’mon, c’mon, I wanna show you my toys.”
You and Logan shared an amused look before Logan let Arlo drag him off to your living room.
================
“Hey, you two, dinner’s rea-,” you stopped mid sentence as you walked into the living room. You hadn’t expected the scene in front of you.
Logan sat on the floor with Arlo, who’s hair was now pulled up into two tufts on top of his head.
“Look mama!” Arlo spoke proudly. “I asked Logan to make us match! Do we look cool?”
“You look very cool, sweetheart,” you chuckled softly. “You’re both very handsome. But even cool guys have to eat dinner.”
“Yeah, to be big and strong,” Arlo nodded, hopping up from the floor and rushing off to the table.
Logan stood up from the floor, groaning softly.
“Didn’t know you were a hairdresser,” you joked as he began following you to the table as well.
“Well when he gives me those big puppy eyes, I can’t say no,” Logan defended.
“You’ve got me there,” you chuckled softly. “You can go sit at the table, I’ll bring in dinner.”
================
Dinner with Logan felt good. Domestic. Arlo yapped about his current favorite show while you and Logan chuckled. As much as you loved Arlo, you did want to talk to Logan without having every other sentence be about Nubs the pooba boy from a Star Wars show Arlo was obsessed with.
“Alright, bud, it’s time to head to bed,” you hummed to Arlo. After dinner, the three of you had stayed at the table talking, and now it was time for him to get some sleep.
“Do I have to?” Arlo frowned. “I wanna stay up and play with Logan some more.”
“Listen to your mom,” Logan replied before you could. “If you go to bed now, we can play another time. Deal?”
“Deal,” Arlo nodded, accepting Logan’s offer. He climbed out of his chair and walked off in the direction of his room.
“If you wanna wait in the living room, I’ll be back out after I get him down,” you told Logan as you stood.
Logan gave you a nod before you walked off after Arlo to help him get ready for bed.
“I like Logan,” Arlo stated as you stepped into his room. “He’s fun.”
You chuckled softly, getting into Arlo’s dresser to pull out a couple pairs of his favorite pajamas. One was yellow and covered in dinosaurs, while the other was light blue with green stripes.
“Which pajamas do you wanna wear tonight?” You asked, holding up both pairs for him to pick from.
“Dinosaurs!” He grinned.
“Dinosaurs it is,” you nodded, putting the other pajamas back in the drawer for another night.
Once Arlo was changed into his pajamas, you helped him brush his teeth. The two of you went back into his room so that he could lay down.
“Wait!” Arlo gasped before he could climb into bed. “I have to go get Fink and tell Logan goodnight.”
Of course he had to tell Logan goodnight. What had you been thinking?
================
“Logan!” Arlo giggled as he ran into the living room. Logan was sitting on the couch as he waited for you to come back.
“I thought you were going to bed,” Logan chuckled at Arlo’s energy.
“Had to come get Fink,” Arlo answered, grabbing the stuffed fox from where he’d left it on a chair before dinner. “And I wanted to tell you goodnight,” he smiled, climbing on the couch next to Logan and wrapping his arms around the man to the best of his abilities.
Logan was surprised, to say the least. It wasn’t exactly a regular occurrence for kids to come up and hug him. After a split second of shock, he wrapped both arms around Arlo and gave him a soft squeeze.
“G’night,” he hummed before letting go of Arlo.
“Goodnight,” Arlo grinned, planting a kiss on Logan’s cheek before hopping up and running back to his room where you were waiting on him.
“You ready to go to sleep now?” You asked as he hopped up on the bed.
“Yep!” He nodded, crawling under his blankets.
As he got settled, you leaned over and flicked on his night light. Then, tucked him into bed, smiling as he wiggled around to get comfortable.
“Do you think we can get ice cream with Logan and Wade one day?” Arlo asked hopefully.
“We’ll see, sweetie,” you chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.
“Goodnight, mama,” he smiled softly at you, “I love you.”
“Night, bud. I love you,” you replied, standing from the bed and heading for the door. “Sleep tight,” you added, flicking the lightswitch and leaving his room, pulling the door closed as you did.
Now that he was in bed, you made your way back to the living room.
“He’s in bed,” you spoke as you entered the room. “He’ll be out in a few minutes. That kid can fall asleep anywhere,” you chuckled softly, plopping down on the couch next to Logan. You left a little bit of space between the two of you, not wanting to make things weird.
“It must be nice,” Logan joked, an amused breath leaving his nose.
“One time I found him asleep halfway through using the bathroom. He had his head leaned over against the toilet paper roll,” you laughed at the memory.
“Jesus,” Logan laughed along with you. “He must keep you on your toes.”
“You have no idea,” you chuckled, pulling one leg up onto the couch so you could face Logan as you talked. “He’s got enough energy for about a dozen kids. But when he’s out, he sleeps like the dead.”
“He definitely has the energy,” Logan agreed. “But he seems like a good kid.”
“He is,” you smiled proudly. “He’s a great kid. One of the sweetest kids I know. Maybe I just think that because I’m biased,” you joked.
“I don’t think so,” Logan smiled. “He’s sweet. When he and I were playing earlier while you cooked, he was always offering to share whatever toy he had. Not a lot of kids are offering to share things.”
“I try my best with him. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be a mom, but then Arlo came along, and I dunno, it was just, it was right,” you spoke fondly.
“It can’t be easy being a single mother,” Logan started, “You’re doin’ great. He’s lucky to have you.”
“Thank you,” you said softly. Nobody had ever told you anything like that before. You weren’t really sure how to react. “I hadn’t really expected to be a single mom, but I don’t have any regrets. I adopted him when he was just a baby, but that’s a story for another time.”
“I didn’t realize,” Logan replied. “He’s even luckier to have you than I thought, then.”
You smiled at Logan, feeling so grateful that the mishap at the supermarket had happened. You enjoyed having him around.
=================
“Tonight was nice,” you told Logan as you walked him to the door. It was getting late, and you had to be up the next morning.
Logan put his shoes on while you opened the door.
“I had a good time,” Logan smiled slightly at you as he stood.
You both stepped into the hallway, and you pulled the door most of the way around behind you.
“Thank you again, for yesterday,” you hummed, leaning against the wall next to your door.
“No, thank you,” he replied, “For dinner. It’s not often I get a home cooked meal.”
“Well, feel free to come by for more anytime,” you smiled up at him, “Even if it’s just chicken nuggets and mac n cheese, you’re more than welcome to join us.”
Logan chuckled softly, nodding at your invitation.
“I’d say that you two are welcome to drop by Wade and I’s place, but that is not fit for children,” he joked.
You laughed, unable to help yourself. Joking with Logan felt so natural.
“Well,” Logan spoke again. “I should get out of your hair, but I’ll see ya around, yeah?” He tried not to sound too hopeful.
“Yeah, I’ll see you around,” you nodded in response.
Logan hesitated for a fraction of a second before leaning in and placing a barely there kiss on your cheek.
“I’d really like to see you again sometime. As a date,” he admitted. “I understand that dating is more difficult when you have a kid because you have to consider Arlo when you make decisions, but I’d like to see where this goes.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked someone else, and all he could do was pray he wasn’t making a fool of himself.
“I would love that, Logan,” you grinned. He was the first man to ever consider Arlo when it came to dating you. He seemed like the type of man to know that you had to put Arlo first. “Arlo is having a sleepover at my sister’s with his cousins this weekend. Maybe we could get dinner then? Just the two of us this time.”
“That sounds great,” Logan nodded, trying and failing to fight off a smile. He felt like a goddamn blushing school boy. “I’ll come by at seven so we can go to dinner.”
“Perfect,” you smiled. You leaned up, placing a quick peck on his lips. “I can’t wait.”
Logan was shocked that you’d kissed him, but he certainly wasn’t complaining. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a voice from inside your apartment.
“Mama?” Arlo called out for you from his room. He must’ve had a nightmare or want a glass of water.
“Duty calls,” you joked. “Goodnight Logan,” you hummed, stepping back into your apartment.
“Night,” he replied, giving you a small nod as you shut the apartment door to go check on Arlo.
After the door was shut, Logan realized he was smiling like an absolute idiot. He hadn’t been this excited for a date since…. He couldn’t actually remember.
Turning on his heel, he headed down the hallway back to Wade’s. He couldn’t stop smiling.
Walking into the apartment, he groaned as he saw Wade laying on the couch as if he had been waiting for Logan to get back.
“Stop looking at me like that,” he huffed, shutting the door behind him.
“Like what, peanut?” Wade shrugged. “I just wanna know how things went with the hot milf down the hall.”
“Fuck off,” Logan rolled his eyes, dropping his keys on the entry table and walking off to go to bed.
“I’ll take that as ‘It went great, Wade, you officially have a nephew now’. Is that about right?” He called after Logan.
Logan ignored Wade, shaking his head. He had to admit, though, things had gone great with the hot milf down the hall. And it would only get better.
hi, girly girl ♡♡♡
i’m re-reading your grumpy!bucky x sunshine!reader series (bc of course i am) and i was wondering, if you’re taking requests, what your thoughts are about:
💭 something happening to sunshine!reader, during a mission or something else, and she’s emotional (maybe hurt) and frantically asking for bucky. cue extra-protective!grumpy!bucky.
k love u bye
hi, babe :))
it started out as thoughts and I worked it into a lil something something
love you more <3
You came? You called.
Pairing: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)
Summary: The team’s brightest light shatters after a mission gone wrong, and only one person can put her back together.
Bucky Barnes :)
Word Count: Roughly 900 words
Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, mild injuries mentioned (barely), mentions of blood, overprotective and soft Bucky, physical and emotional distress, a lil bit of angst (but just a pinch)
Author’s Note: I don't know where I was going with this, but I tried :(
Navigation
Divider by: @strangergraphics
You’re not supposed to cry.
You're supposed to sparkle.
You're supposed to laugh like you’ve never tasted bitterness, bounce off the walls like gravity never quite applied to you, and leave glitter bombs and rainbow cupcakes in your wake.
You're the sunshine of the team, the chaos incarnate with fingers covered in icing from baking every other day, held together by too much energy and not enough fear.
But right now, you’re sobbing, shaking so hard it rattles your bones.
The safe house is too quiet.
Too sterile.
You hate the quiet.
Your world is made of giggles and explosions and yelling at Tony for calling you “a walking serotonin factory,” like it’s not the biggest compliment ever.
Steve’s kneeling next to you, his voice is soft, words calm and even, like a warm blanket.
Nat’s crouched just behind him, her clothes smeared with blood that’s not hers. You know what that means. She already got them, the ones who hurt you.
But none of that matters.
You want him.
“Bucky,” you whisper softly, the name tumbling out between hiccups.
Steve tries to soothe you. “He’s coming, sunshine. He’s on his way.”
But that only makes it worse. It hurts, how badly you need him. The tight, aching space in your chest pulses with panic.
You try to push yourself off the couch even though your leg won't work right. The pain flares, sharp and hot, but not as bad as the panic clawing through your ribs. “I need him now. Please. I want Bucky.”
Your voice breaks, shatters into something raw and desperate.
Steve looks helpless. Even Captain America doesn’t know how to hold back the sun when it starts to implode.
Nat lays a hand on your shoulder. Her touch is light but firm. “He’s coming,” she says quietly. “He’s already ripping apart the walls to get to you.”
That sounds like him.
It helps, but not enough.
The tears keep coming, stupid and hot, blurring everything. Your fingers grip the blanket around you, but it’s not what you want.
You want metal and leather and the calloused hands that catch you midair when you launch off rooftops without a second thought. You want the gruff voice that mutters complaints when you bounce in front of him, bright and too close, but never pulls away.
You want Bucky.
And then he’s there.
Steve barely gets out of the way before Bucky’s next to you, metal hand cupping your cheek like you’re made of something too precious to break.
“There you are,” he breathes. “Sunshine, what did they do to you?”
Your hands reach out to grab him, clutching at his jacket, his shoulder, his neck, anything that’s him.
You curl into him like a sunflower searching for sunlight, burying your face in his chest and gasping like you can’t breathe without him.
He smells safe.
Like home.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” you sob into him. “I was so scared. I thought…”
He’s already wrapping around you, his flesh hand holding the back of your head, metal arm tucking you into him, so close there’s no space between your body and his. “Shh. I’m here, baby. You’re safe now. I got you. Nobody’s touching you ever again.”
You nod, even as the tears soak through his shirt. His lips press to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. Like, if he kisses you enough, he can erase what happened.
“You’re late,” you whisper, your voice trembling and watery.
“I know, dollface,” he murmurs, his voice cracking at the edges. “I should’ve been faster.”
Steve clears his throat, somewhere behind you. “Maybe give her a second to breathe, Buck.”
“I am breathing,” you mutter into Bucky’s neck, your voice muffled but stubborn.
Bucky glares at Steve. “She wants me, she gets me. End of story.”
Nat smirks from the corner, arms crossed. “She was begging for you like the world was ending.”
“She’s my world,” Bucky shoots back without hesitation.
He tilts your chin up gently, and when your glassy eyes meet his, he winces. “Look at what they did to my baby,” he whispers. “Your face. Your leg...” He trails off, breathing hard, like he might go find the bastards and rip them apart again just for good measure.
“Nat already got them,” you say, sniffling, managing a tiny smile. “Bet she looked really cool doing it, too.”
“I wanted to be the one to end them,” he mutters darkly.
You tug on his sleeve. “You’re here now. That’s better, the best thing ever. Promise.”
He melts at that, just enough. His forehead presses to yours. “You scared me, you little menace.”
“I scare everyone,” you mumble, eyes drooping as the exhaustion catches up with you. “But you always come back.”
“Always, sunshine.” He kisses the tip of your nose, holding you like you’re breakable. “You’re my favorite chaos.”
You hum, smiling sleepily at him, and he has to look away so he doesn’t fold. “I like when you call me that.”
“I’d like it even more if you didn’t almost get yourself killed,” he mutters. “No more solo missions. No more running ahead without backup. No more playing bait.”
“But I’m good bait,” you protest, nuzzling into his chest.
“I don’t care. No more.” His voice is final. His grip is absolute. “You’re sticking with me.”
And maybe that sounds like a means of control to anyone else.
But you? You just smile.
Because you’re safe.
Because he’s here.
Even the brightest light needs a shadow to guard it.
And Bucky Barnes is your favorite one.
Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!
If you'd like to be added to my taglist
Much love x
- Maeve
Tags: @princess-lil-spidey @sapphirebarnes @mgchaser @sparklystarsandstrawberries @arcadia-smith @rnurse-kole @juliebluehufflepuff @sailorsenshiuranep @alexxavicry @ficcharsimp @winchestert101 @thatesqcrush @bamitzzsam @grubler @peaches1958 @helen-2003 @ickearmn @Kimmie113080 @Xgbtmdmx @buckysbunnie @Shower-me-with-roses @pigeonmama @civilbucky @piinksdoll @desimarie12 @sleepysongbirdsings @barnesb420 @Suffereroflife @pigeonmama @yes-ilovetowrite @shadowstar1072 @serenaivy
Spare Parts
Summary : Your boyfriend gets used to life with one arm.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x reader (she/her)
Warnings/tags : Fluff!!!! Sexual references, and implied sex, though no graphic descriptions. Cursing.
Requested by : @undf-stuff (based on this request)
Word count : 1.7k
Note : I haven't updated my masterlist since last month but I promise you I will soon! Enjoy!
Bucky Barnes, at some point, decided his left arm was optional.
You weren’t exactly sure when it started, but looking back, the signs were there. You should’ve seen it as a steady progression of small moments that culminated into this.
At first, it was little things— chopping vegetables one-handed like he was starring in a cooking competition. The metal arm would still be on, but he’d keep his vibranium fingers curled into a loose fist like he didn’t quite trust them not to cause trouble.
The moment you really noticed came one evening when he flopped onto the couch beside you, let out a long, dramatic sigh, and—without a single word—just took the arm off and set it on the coffee table like it was a pair of gloves he didn’t feel like wearing.
You blinked and opened your mouth. “Uh…”
Bucky, completely unbothered, stretched out with a pleased hum. “It gets in the way,” he accused, reaching for the TV remote with his right hand. “And, it gets messy.”
Your eyes flickered to the sleek piece of vibranium now lying abandoned on the table, looking vaguely out of place next to the half-empty bowl of caramel popcorn you had made for the evening.
“Messy?” you echoed.
“Yes. Messy.” He huffed, his eyes dark and brooding like a man who had seen things— horrible, terrible things, and you weren’t even talking about the Hydra stuff. “Do you know how annoying it is to clean blood, dirt, and food out of all those little joints? Last week, I got butter in there. Butter.” He shuddered.
“That was your fault,” You barely suppressed a laugh. “You stole my toast.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said stubbornly, waving a dismissive hand. Then, with the confidence of a man who had never done anything wrong in his life, he draped his human arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer. “I’ve decided to be right-handed.”
“You are right-handed.”
“Well, now I’m only right-handed.”
You sighed, shaking your head as you settled your head on his shoulders, hopelessly fond. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You keep me around anyway.” he shrugged, pressing a lazy kiss to your hair,
You huffed. “Against my better judgment.”
Not that you’d ever get rid of him. Bucky Barnes was your weak spot. A six-foot hunk of grumpy, stubborn, adorable beef who could get away with anything if he tried hard enough.
Even the cardinal sin he committed that night, as he put his damn arm in the dishwasher.
Which, by the way, you always scolded him for.
And which, by the way, he always did anyway.
—
After that, the left arm gradually made fewer appearances in day to day life.
Cooking? Off. It’s hard to get oil off the ridges.
Coffee? Off. The grounds get in the plating.
Fixing little things around the apartment? Definitely off—especially after last time, when he’d gotten a nail stuck between the plates of his vibranium fingers and sulked about it for hours.
At first, it was mildly concerning. “Bucky,” you’d say, watching him knead dough one-handed like some determined pioneer wife who lost her arm to an untreatable infection. “Just put the fucking arm on.”
He’d just shrug. “It’s fine.”
Then, it became routine.
Did a jar need opening? He wouldn’t even attempt it. He’d just hand it to you, expecting you to pop it open like you were his personal Jar Opener. (He stopped doing this himself after he tried wedging a pickle jar between his thighs to twist the lid off— except his ridiculous, super-soldier thighs of steel turned it into a disaster. The glass shattered, pickles and brine went everywhere, and he ended up with a mess of tiny cuts, which healed annoyingly fast).
It should’ve been annoying.
But it wasn’t.
Because every single time, without fail, he’d watch you do it with this cute little smile— like it delighted him, like it thrilled him to see you easily accomplish something that, for once, he couldn’t. (It was adorable, honestly).
—
But the part you loved most were the mornings.
Bucky was an early riser. You were not. And on the days when duty called him out before the sun had even bothered to peek through the curtain, he’d always accidentally disturb your sleep as he got out of bed.
And he hated that. He hated that you pouted when you realised he had to go. He hated leaving you feeling alone. So one he detached his arm and draped it over your waist as if he was still there.
It worked like a charm. You didn’t even notice he was gone until a couple of hours later.
The first time it had happened, you’d been so startled when you woke up to a disembodied arm, you threw it across the room and broke a vase.
Now, it was comforting. It became a part of him you could hold onto when he had to leave too early, when the bed was too cold and the world was too quiet. And he knew you loved it.
In those mornings, when you finally trudged into the kitchen—hair a mess, eyes still half-lidded, his metal arm slung over your shoulder like the world’s strangest scarf—he’d take one look at you and smile from ear to ear.
“Morning, doll,” he’d say, clearly just getting back from the gym. “Sleep okay?”
And every time, without fail, you’d yawn, press a drowsy kiss to his jaw and click the arm back into place on his shoulders.
“Yeah,” you’d mumble, leaning in, “Your arm kept me company.”
And every time, without fail, Bucky would readjust it, then wrap both arms around you, tug you in close, and press the softest kiss to your hair.
“Good,” he’d whisper, lips brushing your temple. “That’s why I left it.”
—
There was one time, though, that Bucky misplaced it entirely.
And he only noticed they were gone when he received a concerning message from Rocket Raccoon.
[Off-World Transmission Received: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA GOT YOUR ARM.]
And attached to it, was a picture of his arm in a box, the guardians posing with it (Drax had a middle finger up. You don’t think he knew what it meant).
Bucky stared at the screen. “What.”
Slowly, very slowly, he turned to you. His eyes a mix of horror, confusion, and the kind of sheer disbelief that only came from realising you had lost an entire prosthetic limb.
“Did I—” He swallowed. “Did I have my arm when I went to bed last night?”
You frowned, trying to rewind through last night’s memories, though you failed. “…I think so?”
Spoiler alert: He did not.
He had left it to air dry in the dishwasher. And as it turned out, at some point between you and Bucky going to bed and the sun rising, Nebula had waltzed in and stole it— all that effort for Rocket’s goddamn Christmas present.
And Bucky, so used to going without it, had somehow managed to not notice for a good twenty-four hours.
You would’ve felt bad for him, except for the part where he spent the next two days pacing around the apartment, grumbling like he had a personal thundercloud over his head while you attempted to hold in your laughter.
In the end, he had to commission a whole new arm from Shuri, who laughed so hard she had to mute herself on the call. Though she did agree to make him an arm that was easier to clean.
And Rocket was a dead fucking man. Let’s just say your boyfriend was not a man to let things slide.
—
Surprisingly, though, the real revelation came later.
For all his dramatic sighs and grumbles about crumbs in the joints and butter between the ridges on the plating, Bucky still refused to wear the sleeker, less bulky arm Shuri had designed for him to use regularly. As it turned out, there was another reason he was so particular about keeping his arm clean—a reason that, when he finally admitted it, had you staring at him, unsure if you should be aroused and concerned.
Because, apparently, Bucky Barnes was keeping his vibranium arm spotless for you.
For sex.
See the thing is, sex with Bucky was never, ever vanilla.
He liked using that arm. Loved the way you gasped when cold metal traced up the inside of your thighs, how you writhed beneath him when he wrapped it around your throat, how you begged when he pinned you down under its inescapable grips.
He loved making you tremble. Loved the power his vibranium arm offered—his flesh hand was soothing, his vibranium one unrelenting, precise, wrecking you in ways only he could.
So yeah. He wanted to use the arm for you.
Until, one night, you told him you wanted to see what it was like without it.
It started gently, with lazy kisses and the drag of lips over skin, the sheer weight of his body pressing you into the mattress.
But then, just when you expected him to shift, to brace himself on that vibranium forearm like always—you remembered it wasn’t there.
It was across the room, abandoned on the table.
And Bucky was touching you with nothing but himself.
His broad, big human hand—first skimming over your ribs, slipping up your thigh, calloused fingertips brushing all your sensitive spots until you were gasping his name.
His mouth—hot and wet, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, over your collarbone. His voice was gruff as he murmured against your skin, “So beautiful. Gonna take my time with you, sweetheart. “
My god, did he.
See, Bucky Barnes was never vanilla in bed… until today. He was usually all filth, with teasing grins and a fuckin’ take it, baby growled every once in a while.
Today, he was so vulnerably human, filled with whispered devotion. He was slow and loving. He had your fingers clawing at his back, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. There was something about being just flesh and blood that made him so… sensitive. So gentle.
And fuck, it was good.
So good that afterward, when you were sprawled across his chest, blissed-out, you found yourself telling him, “You don’t always have to put it back on, you know.”
Bucky chuckled, lips brushing your temple. “Yeah?”
You smiled, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest, your fingers threading through his. “Yeah.”
And now that he didn’t need the arm to feel whole, the arm started to stay off a little more often in bed.
-End.
General Bucky taglist:
@hotlinepanda @snflwr-vol6 @ruexj283 @2honeybees @read-just-cant
@shanksstrawhat @mystictf @globetrotter28 @thebuckybarnesvault@average-vibe
@winchestert101 @mystictf @globetrotter28 @shanksstrawhat @scariusaquarius
@reckless007 @hextech-bros @daydreamgoddess14 @96jnie @pono-pura-vida
@buckyslove1917 @notsostrangerthing @flow33didontsmoke @qvynrand @blackbirdwitch22
@torntaltos @seventeen-x @ren-ni @iilsenewman @slayerofthevampire
@hiphip-horray @jbbucketlist @melotyy @ethereal-witch24 @samfunko
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@cjand10
Change of View
Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader
Summary: Your friend drags you along to an Avengers event, which changes your life forever...
Warnings: thirst, Loki in a silk robe
Word Count: 2k
a/n: Happy Easter, guys! I know it's been a while, but... I truly hope you like this lil' gift I got for y'all... 🤗 I never forgot about Loki. I never could. I just don't have the inspiration for him at the moment, but if I do... Well... 😉
Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist
"Ugh," you sighed and rolled your eyes; crossing your arms over your chest. "I can't believe I let you drag me here, Sammy. This is-" "Abso-fucking-lutely awesome!" Your friend finished the sentence. She was beyond excited; literally buzzing and barely able to keep herself from whipping back and fro on her heels and toes. "I was gonna say boring and overrated, but okay. Whatever." Now it was Sammy's turn to roll her eyes. "Oh, come on, Y/N." The woman gripped your upper arm, "Don't be such a party pooper! Let's go!" and dragged you along; past several security checks and finally inside the walls of the Avengers compound.
Yes... The Avengers compound. A month ago, none other than Tony Stark had announced on television that there would be three days open house. They wanted to 'let people take a look behind closed doors'; showing them how superheroes worked. Sure, there had been taken several security precautions. Dozens of guards, several checks and a 'guest list'. Plus, the guests weren't allowed to access several parts of the building. Closed off areas.
Originally, you would've never even thought about setting a single food on said compound. You weren't much of 'superhero' fan. You had other interests. The Avengers certainly were none of them. But then Sammy came along and literally begged you to go with her - and who were you to not help a friend living her dream? So, you gave in - and here you were.
Did you regret agreeing on this? Probably...
"Oh my gosh! Look at this! Look at the sheer size of it!" Sammy gasped as she looked around the compound; completely stunned. "There's the Quinjet, ahhh!" You didn't even have the chance to answer something, before you got dragged along again.
After thoroughly exploring the outside and watching Stark fly around in his metal suit, your friend led you inside the tower - where you got welcomed by none other than Captain America himself... Steve Rogers. "He smiled at me, Y/N! Did you see that?! He smiled at me!" Your friend was close to hyperventilating. So close, that you had to be the one to drag her away this time, in order to help her control her breathing. "Yeah? He did?" Sammy nodded quickly; smiling almost deliriously. "Uh.Huh." "Well, lucky you," you said, then muttered under your breath: "I'm damn sure he smiled at everyone..."
It took you almost three hours to make your way through the whole tower. You spent at least half of the time in the huge training hall, though, watching the Avengers taking turns in training - or well, showing off their powers. First up were Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton and Bruce Banner. Then the teams switched and Scott Laing, Peter Parker and Thor Odinson took over.
That was the moment Sammy lost it entirely. She had the biggest crush on Thor - something you didn't quite understand. But hey, you didn't have to, right?
The moment you saw him entering the 'arena', you physically and mentally prepared yourself to support your friend. "Oh. My. Gosh! Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ohmygosh! Y/N! There's, there's-" She wasn't even able to finish her sentence before a loud happy squeal paved its way past her lips. You giggled and shook your head. Despite absolutely being bored here, you loved to see your friend that happy and locked in in fangirl mode.
"Need my hand to hold?" She didn't answer, instead just gripped your hand like a vice; eyes stuck on the god. "He's even more handsome in real life! Look at him, Y/N! Look at him!" You rolled your eyes, but smiled. "I am looking, Sam." "Isn't he the hottest man alive?" Weeeell... "For you, yes. For me... No." Sammy didn't even seem to register your words. Certainly not as Thor did this... lightning thing. From that moment on, she was lost - and it would take several business days to get her back. You were sure of it.
After the teams switched again and her beloved God of Thunder was 'replaced' by Bucky Barnes (who was more of your taste than Thor), you decided to keep on exploring and return later to the training area. Of course, in the hopes to see Thor again.
Now you were in a seemingly very quiet corner of the floor. Jess needed to pay the toilets a visit, while you waited outside. With your back comfortably leaned against the wall, you were on the phone; not bothering the few people who passed you by.
Until you heard a soft noise. You looked up, but quickly shook it off again; thinking that it only had been in your head.
Then you heard it again... Like... running water.
Slipping your phone back inside the pocket of your jeans, you looked around to check the area. There was nobody, but the noise could be heard again. Frowning, you wandered a bit around; trying to find out where it came from - until you stopped in front of another corridor, which was closed off with a big 'No trespassing' sign in front. Being too curious for your own good, you looked around again to check the area. Nobody was around, so you climbed over the streamer to enter the corridor.
Cautiously, you took step after step. There were quite a few rooms, but you didn't dare to open them. The noise which had lured you in had vanished as well. You didn't hear a damn thing. It was eerily quiet. With a sigh, you shrugged your shoulders and turned around to leave. Your eyes were still directed behind you; resulting in your body colliding against something - or rather someone.
A small yelp left your lips, and you stumbled backwards; landing on your ass. "Ouch," you mumbled; rubbing your shoulder. "Apologies. I did not expect you to run into me," a deep, velvety and kinda soothing voice suddenly spoke from above you. A hand appeared in your peripheral vision. Certainly bigger than your own with long fingers attached. It looked smooth and... skilled.
"Are you well?"
Your eyes snapped up - and suddenly you felt like falling again. Like anticipated, stood a man in front of you. Well, standing wasn't the right term... Rather towering. He was probably the embodiment of 'tall, dark and handsome'. Deep ocean blue eyes gazed down at you. His face was chiselled with a sharp jawline and cheekbones to die for. Pale, smoothly shaven skin contrasted to the long, black curls which framed his face. They were visibly freshly washed; wetting the emerald green robe he wore.
Was that silk?
Your eyes dropped; realising with sheer shock that he seemingly wasn't wearing something underneath. You had unobstructed view on his halfway exposed chest, the patch of dark hair between his pectorals and the beginning of his abs. Half of his - most likely - sixpack was visible. The knot tied in his bathrobe around his lower abdomen prevented you from getting to see more.
You swallowed hard. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen.
"Are you well?" He asked his previous question again, and this time, he managed to rip you out of your trance like state. "Uh, um," you stammered; trying to get your head straight and back on track again. "Yes, I, uh, think so." You cautiously took his offered hand; really getting to feel the smoothness of it.
You swallowed hard. Again.
"T-Thank you," you whispered and rubbed your shoulder again. Probably to distract yourself and cope with the sudden nervosity inside you. He gave you a soft nod.
"And who you might be, if I may ask? I believe I have never seen you here before." You blushed. "O-Oh, I'm just... I'm nobody, really..." The man standing opposite you crooked his head and raised an eyebrow. He wanted to speak up and say something, but you leapfrogged him. Only god knew why you had the sudden courage to do that. Perhaps it was the adrenaline pumping through your veins.
"Counterquestion. Who are you?"
Loki blinked, then chuckled. That is a first, the god thought.
"Well, who do you think I am, Miss...?" "Y/L/N." He smirked. "Miss Y/L/N." You fumbled with your fingers and shrugged your shoulders. "Dunno." "Take a guess, little mor- miss." Close.
You eyed him up and down once again; trying to not get too distracted this time - which was really difficult. "Um... You, uh, you look... regal. Kinda... official. Are you a business man? Or one of Mr. Stark's right-hand-men?"
The god chuckled; almost felt a bit offended by you thinking he's one of Tony's puppets. "Not even close, darling."
Your heart did a little flip at the pet name he used and your cheeks reddened even more.
"A security guard?"
The man opposite you shook his head; making his damp onyx curls sway. "Try again." "A SHIELD agent?" "Getting colder, Miss Y/L/N." You hummed; the gears in your brain turning quickly, but it had run out of possible answers. For now, at least.
"Running out of ideas already?" The man asked with a mischievous smirk on his lips. He was a sassy one. You could tell.
"Are you some kind of mob boss then?"
The stranger chuckled, "Your suggestions are getting dangerous, darling." and took a small step closer; crossing his hands behind his back. "It almost seems like you love yourself a dangerous man... Do you?"
Your jaw dropped. How could he be so mysterious, threatening and flirty at the same time? It fucked with your mind; almost send you into a frenzy.
"I-I, uh," you stammered and wanted to answer, but another voice cut through the air. This time a familiar one.
"Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here? This is- Ohmygod." Sammy stood at the end of the hallway, in front of the 'No trespassing' sign and the streamer with her gaze directed on the man beside you. Her eyes widened for a short moment. Then Sammy shook her head and quickly jumped over the streamer; stomping over to you. "Get your ass back over here! We're not allowed to he here! What were you thinking?!" She grabbed your arm, "I don't want to get kicked out because of you! Come on!" and dragged you away. She had ignored the barely dressed man, who had witnessed everything with a smug, amused smirk on his lips.
Until now.
"Apologies, your majesty," she said; addressing the tall, handsome stranger, while still dragging you along. "She, uh, she's difficult, and doesn't know what's going on here. Please forgive us the disturbance and please don't call the security. We're already going and you won't hear from us again," Sammy rambled, as if her life depended on it.
Your ears perked up at the first sentence which had left your friend's mouth, and it stuck there.
Majesty? Majesty???
Then it hit you. Like a truck in full swing. The ongoing conversation between your friend and the man fading into the background.
You may not possess a big knowledge of the Avengers and everything involving them, but you did hear of the Asgardian princes before. Princes. Plural. You just had always seen Thor on television or social media. Not his brother. Not the charming, mischievous and smart younger Odinson.
Now you did.
"H-Hold up. Majesty?!" You asked Sammy shocked; climbing after her over the streamer again. "Yes, majesty," hissed your friend - and your suspicions got confirmed. "Oh my gosh, was that-" "Prince Loki Odinson of Asgard, yes," she whisper-shouted to complete your sentence.
Your heart did another flip. You blinked; brain having a hard time to catch up on what just happened. You talked - no, you flirted with a prince. With one of the most popular Avengers. With the female heart throb. The amount of women who'd have murdered you to get into your place uncountable.
You swallowed hard and dared to look back inside the corridor - only to see Loki still standing there; watching the spectacle unfolding in front of his eyes. That mischievous, almost boyish smile was on his lips as he winked at you.
And suddenly, you felt like floating and fainting at the same time.
You wanted to go back to him, call for him - but the words got stuck in your throat; feet like anchored to the ground.
And then Sammy dragged you away.
The settling realisation that you most likely would never get this close to him again suddenly weighed heavier on your heart than you were ready to admit.
Tags: @fictive-sl0th @gruftiela @anukulee @theaudacitytowrite @alexakeyloveloki @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic @chennqingg @muddyorbsblr @glitchquake @mandywholock1980 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @mochie85 @dryyoursaltyoceantears @chantsdemarins @loz-3 @eleniblue @goblingirlsarah @crimson25 @icytrickster17 @lokidbadguy @hunny-beann @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kimanne723 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokidokieokie @lovingchoices14 @kikster606 @frzntrx @lokisgoodgirl @huntedmusicgardenn @linaax @sheris532 @km-ffluv @jiyascepter @salvinaa @brokenpoetliz @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jaidenhawke @buttercupcookies-blog @vanilla-daydreaming @multifandom-worlds @smolvenger @jennyggggrrr (Continuing in the comments)
am i cooked, chat? (04)
➳ bucky barnes x f!reader ➳ you found a new favorite no-face streamer, much to your bestfriend's (who is hopelessly inlove with you btw) dismay. oh but the fact that the no-face streamer is also him is not relevant. am i cooked, chat? - masterlist a/n: started drafting it. had a breakdown. bon apetit.
You're So Loved (Happy Birthday, Sweetheart)
Pairing: Doctor!Strange x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: It's Y/n's birthday and Stephen prepares a special dinner
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: None, just fluff.
A/N: I'm so happy for finally being able to post a fic here. It wasn't a piece of cake, since I've been batling writer's block, but I am proud of the result. I Need to be honest and say that this hasn't been proofread, so any typos or grammar mistakes you see just pretend you didn't. Hope you guys enjoy it and have a nice read ;)
You never liked your birthday. For some reason, the date always contributed to intensifying your depressive episodes. For some reason, the beginning of April brought with it an air of melancholy that you attributed solely to the fact that it was the month of your birthday and the reason for this remained unknown. You were not exactly a happy person, but there were so many people in worse situations. Of course, thinking that way did not help.
However, since Stephen had entered your life, you could see a clear improvement in the matter. After you started living with him in the Sanctum, you spent three birthdays with him. The first one was melancholic and you asked him not to give you any presents or celebrations, the second one you had accepted that he would take you out to dinner and in the present year you had not objected at all to the idea of Tony throwing a party at Stark Tower to celebrate your birthday, although as the date approached you wondered if it had been a good idea to give in so much. After all, you knew that things could get a little crazy and grand when you let Tony do whatever he wanted, but at the same time, the fact that he cared about you enough to do that with such affection warmed your heart.
With Stephen, however, you had no idea how you would celebrate or if you would celebrate at all. The big party would be on Saturday night and your actual birthday would be on Tuesday, and Tuesdays were complicated and tiring days at work. Stephen had mentioned dinner, but he had been so busy all week at Kamar Taj that you wondered if he had forgotten, and honestly, you wouldn't blame him if he had. Your birthday was never a topic of conversation between you because that was how you preferred it to be. Deep down, maybe you were afraid that he would question what the matter was, and you wouldn't know how to answer.
Anyway, Monday went by uneventfully and during the night you asked Stephen about his plans for the next day and he replied that he would probably be at Kamar Taj all day sorting out who knows what and you understood that he hadn't really thought of anything different for the occasion. It was better this way, you told yourself. There would be enough celebrating on Saturday. However, you couldn't help but feel a little sad, but in the morning you woke up, took a shower and had your coffee normally and didn't even bother to be disappointed that your boyfriend wasn't home. Stephen always woke up before you and always left the house before you woke up when he had to work. So, you simply grabbed your bag and left for work like any other Tuesday.
...
Stephen was feeling remorseful for not having waited for you to wake up to congratulate you first thing in the morning, but America had convinced him that their plan would be more successful if you thought he had forgotten what day it was. Stephen had a photographic memory, he tried to warn the teenager, he never forgot anything.
"Well, then she'll think you just didn't bother to say happy birthday to her," America had said, rolling her eyes. How that could be a good thing, he couldn't say, but since even Wong had gotten on board with this with unusual enthusiasm, Stephen had agreed to do as America suggested. He woke up in the morning, stroked your hair gently as he watched you sleep soundly for a second, and then left.
Tuesday was boring and tiring at Kamar Taj as usual. He trained the students as he had promised Wong he would, and then devoted himself to preparing for the next mission that he thankfully wouldn't have to participate in. Overall, it was a Tuesday like any other, except that it wasn't. Stephen couldn't stop thinking about you all day. It was like a movie playing in his head, making him remember your moments together.
He remembered perfectly the first kiss, the first time you made love, how you blushed beautifully when he called you sweetheart for the first time and just like that, he knew that would be your pet name. You completely transformed his life and suddenly he stopped being a bitter and resentful man with control issues and became your Stephen, a person he sometimes didn't even recognize, but whom he liked to be much more.
It was safe to say that even his relationship with the Avengers improved after you came into his life. You and Stark were great friends, Stephen had no choice but to live with the billionaire in a more friendly way and that wasn't a bad thing at all. Stephen liked having friends now, he even liked having America as his protégé and all of that was thanks to you. There wasn't much he could say to you that would express how much he loved you, but he tried and would continue to try every day. Especially today.
"Are you ready to go home yet?" America's voice echoed from the distance across the courtyard as he crossed the hall from the library to the dorms while she ran toward him.
He smiled and nodded. "We better go before it gets too late to make dinner." He replied, watching the girl approach. "I don't want her to get home before we've everything sorted out." America nodded.
"There'll be time, relax." And then she slapped her forehead with her hand. "The dress! I completely forgot! I need to go to the store to get it." Stephen shook his head in confusion. "I thought you and Wong had already picked it up yesterday."
She shook her head. "It wasn't her size. The saleswoman had to order it from another store. It arrived this afternoon. We need to go there to get it."
Stephen sighed. "I'll let Wong know we're on our way." When you use portals to get around, everything gets easier. Within 15 minutes, Stephen and America had gone to the store to get your present and were already back home. Without even planning it, they both took a shower and met in the kitchen where Wong was already waiting with all the ingredients already on the balcony.
"What took you so long?" He asked impatiently.
"I hope everything went well at the bakery." Stephen said without bothering to answer and Wong gestured to the refrigerator. When Stephen opened the fridge door, he saw exactly what he expected, a beautiful round cake with white frosting and colorful sprinkles that said "Happy Birthday, sweetheart." He just smiled and closed the door again.
"Did you remember to wrap her present?" Wong asked as if he doubted the answer and Stephen's ability to do it right.
"Yeah. And you? You still haven't told me what you bought for her."
"That's because it's none of your business. You'll see when it's time." He replied. "Now we better start cooking if we want this dinner to be ready on time."
Stephen agreed and simply followed Wong's orders, which were basically washing and chopping ingredients while the Sorcerer Supreme actually cooked. Stephen couldn't argue; he couldn't touch the food if he expected it to be edible.
...
You were starving when you left the office and were caught in a persistent rain. You even thought about stopping by the sandwich bar next door to get some sandwiches to take home, but laziness got the better of you and you ended up giving up. There was always the option of ordering pizza anyway.
It was almost 7pm and if there was any sun it would be setting. The days in April were starting to get longer at this time of the year and some flowers were starting to appear on the trees on Bleecker Street due to the arrival of spring. It was a beautiful time of year indeed and as you walked slowly down the street under your umbrella and saw the Sanctum as a fortress of love and security, you felt happy to be alive and to have that home to return to at the end of each day. When you finally walked through the door that opened by itself as always to let you in, you were greeted by a delicious smell of food that made your stomach growl. It was unusual, really. Unless Wong was home.
"Hi there!" You were welcomed by a baritone voice. "You took your time."
You left the umbrella dripping behind the door and put your bag on the sideboard before getting rid of your coat. "Long and boring day. I thought about buying sandwiches for dinner, but I decided against it." You answered turning to finally look at him and it was then that the feeling of warmth and love intensified even more. He was dressed in dark jeans and a purple shirt, his hair was carefully combed and his goatee perfectly drawn, which indicated that he had taken some time to make it that way.
"You look nice. Any plans for tonight I don't know about?" You asked without trying to be subtle and making him chuckle.
"I always look nice." He answered walking slowly towards you. "And the answer is yes and no, but I'm not going to explain it until you come upstairs with me. Something tells me you need a hot shower."
He finally reached you and touched your face gently before kissing your lips.
"Yes, please." That was all you said on his lips while letting out a little groan. "What a Tuesday!"
He chuckled softly taking your hand in his. "Mine wasn't a piece of cake either, but it's finally over." He nodded leading you upstairs.
After you had showered and spent some time on your post-shower skincare routine, you were ready to get dressed in your most worn and comfortable pajamas, but Stephen just tsked.
"You don't want Wong to see you like this." He warned and you remembered the delicious smell of food you smelled when you got home.
"Did he cook for us?" You asked excited at the idea of eating a proper dinner instead of takeout. Stephen could say whatever he wanted, but you loved Wong's cooking. The Sorcerer Supreme really knew how to cook, in fact he cooked much better than you, but Stephen wasn't ready for that conversation.
Before he could answer, you grabbed a pair of denim shorts and a band t-shirt and got dressed.
"Actually, we cooked for you." Stephen finally confessed with a slight blush on his cheeks. "It all started with America's idea of celebrating your birthday in a low-key way so you wouldn't get mad." He explained. “That was precisely her words”
You smiled from ear to ear. So he hadn't forgotten.
"It was also her idea for me to pretend I forgot it was your birthday today, and she'll probably be mad at me because I should take you downstairs before I tell you, but I couldn't bear to spend another minute of my day without saying it." Then he leaned in close, cupped your face between his shaking hands, and spoke sweetly, "Happy birthday, sweetheart." Before he could say anything else, you had your arms around his neck and pulled him abruptly into a kiss that started out casual and soon became intense and full of saliva and teeth.
"I really thought you forgot!" You confessed, letting out a relieved chuckle. "I don't know what got into me this year, but I spent the whole day thinking it was my birthday and that we should do something about it."
He pinched your cheek teasingly, "I happened to you."
You hummed, "Well, I can't refute that." You responded, pulling him back into your arms. lips in a kiss that lasted until you were interrupted by an incessant knocking on the door.
"Are you guys coming down or what?" America's voice sounded slightly irritated, which made you laugh softly.
"I think you better pretend to be surprised, or she'll kill me." Stephen whispered.
"We're going now." You replied.
When you went down to the dining room - you with the best surprised face you could muster - the table was set beautifully and the candlesticks, never used since you started attending the Sanctum, were lit with candles that seemed to give off a slightly musky scent, but that perfectly matched the delicious smell coming from the kitchen. Wong was finishing the last details and when he saw you, he opened a rare smile.
"Oh my... I can't believe you went to all that trouble!" You exclaimed sincerely.
"You didn't really think we forgot, did you?" He joked, coming towards you and, to your surprise, hugging you. You felt your cheeks turning slightly pink, but you surrendered to the hug, feeling your chest fill with joy and warmth.
"To be honest, I thought everyone had forgotten." You confessed when Wong stepped away and gently pulled out your chair for you to sit down. Stephen smiled ironically, as if he was surprised by his friend's gallantry and maybe even a little jealous, but he said nothing and just pulled out his own chair and sat next to you.
"I think I spent so much time asking people to ignore my birthday that I ended up being afraid that it had actually been ignored this year."
Wong smirked, pointing at all the food placed in front of you. "As you can see, it wasn't. We spent a lot of time thinking about each dish we would make, and we trust that Strange knows what he's talking about because he was the one who chose the menu saying that these are your favorite foods."
You smiled, looking at the food in front of you. Nothing matched, it was just a pile of your favorite foods and somehow you found it much more incredible than if it had been a perfectly prepared menu. There was a basket with fries and some sauces next to it. There was a dish with lasagna Bolognese and another with cannelloni in white sauce. They also roasted what looked like a pork leg and with it there was mashed potatoes, rice, salad and stroganoff. There was definitely enough food to serve about 20 people easily.
"Stephen and I helped Wong prepare everything." America said sitting down and smiling proudly. "Actually I was the one who thought of everything, all the good ideas. Stephen helped, of course. He thinks he knows you so much better than me just because you've known each other longer..."
"Four years longer than you, actually," he teased.
"As I was saying..." She started shooting daggers at him again. "I thought of the best things and even remembered the fries. But overall we didn't do much, Wong got us to do the meson place, the good stuff was on his hands."
"Years and years of practice," Wong said proudly, pulling out his own chair and sitting down as well. "Besides, I needed to make sure you two didn't burn anything."
America rolled her eyes at him and then turned her attention back to you. "Is everything how you like it?"
You smiled. "Of course it is. I just don't know if I'll be able to eat everything you guys prepared."
"Eat whatever you like best," Stephen suggested, taking your plate. "Can I serve you?"
You nodded, noticing that his hands weren't shaking and you knew he was using magic to keep them steady. God forbid he spilled anything that night. Not that you would care, but he would never forgive himself if he did. "What do you want, first?"
You thought for a minute. "I'll start with the fries and the stroganoff. They go together somehow. And to drink... as much as I appreciate the choice of a good wine..."
"She'll have a diet Coke with me." America finished and you winked at her.
Stephen rolled his eyes. "I spent a good fifteen minutes in the wine cellar choosing this wine."
"Well, I'm sure I'll enjoy it properly," Wong said, opening the bottle and pouring himself a full glass of the red wine. He raised the glass to his nose and inhaled deeply before taking a sip. "I really deserve this after the week I've had."
"It's only Tuesday." Stephen said, placing the plate back in front of you. He was clearly going to start serving America, but the teenager was in too much of a hurry to wait and began serving herself, putting a little bit of everything on her plate and carefully assembling a pyramid of food.
"You're going to get a stomachache." Stephen warned as he began to serve himself, but America just shrugged.
Wong helped himself too and soon you guys engaged in a heated conversation about which dish was the best and in the midst of all the silly talk, while eating and laughing like a family, you found yourself thinking that what made you want to celebrate your birthday was that you felt like you belonged to a real family now. Stephen, Wong and America were your family and there was nothing more incredible than spending time with them.
"Just a little bit" Stephen insisted, indicating that you try the roast pork, but you grimaced and refused.
"I feel like I'm going to explode if I eat any more." You confessed "I'm sure it will be good for dinner tomorrow. In fact, I thought we could save some for tomorrow's dinner and make some lunch boxes with the rest to send to the compound. What do you guys think?"
Wong nodded, wiping his lips and finishing what must have been his fourth or fifth glass of wine. "That's a great idea. The food is good, I'd hate for anything to go to waste."
"The lasagna will stay." Stephen demanded as he poured himself another piece of it. "This is extremely delicious."
You couldn't help but smile as you watched him eat. There must have been something about watching your man eat because you found it extremely cute and sexy.
"Okay, the lasagna will stay." You said, bringing your napkin up to his chin to wipe a drop of sauce off his goatee, which made him blush slightly.
...
Stephen smiled broadly as you listened to America explaining the feeling of entering the mirror dimension for the first time and you knew that he saw himself in each new discovery of hers, that as Wong had pointed out several times, he saw himself in America and he liked that. Stephen always told you that you had made him a better man, but you couldn't take all the credit for his growth as a person, America had a big part in that. It was after she arrived that he finally lost his fear of being loved and even though he didn't talk about it, you knew that America was a kind of replacement for the little sister he lost.
"Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to clear the table." Wong announced with a pompous gesture with his fingers and everything simply disappeared. You didn't even question the physics of it anymore, you were just grateful that their magic saved you from having to wash so many dishes.
"Is it time yet?" America asked impatiently and Stephen shook his head.
"What are you two up to?" You asked curiously and Stephen just laughed softly, standing up.
"Trust me, you'll like it. But first, I hope you have saved some place for the dessert." He said, making his own pompous gesture with his fingers and a beautiful cake materialized in front of you. It was round, full of colorful sprinkles and on it was the words "Happy birthday, sweetheart" with a single lit candle.
Before you could process the fact that this was the first birthday cake you had since you became an adult, Stephen, America and Wong started singing 'happy birthday to you' as out of tune as possible and before you knew it, you were crying, but you were also laughing and smiling, and it was undeniable that you were happy.
"Make a wish" America asked before you blew out the candle. "I wish..." You began, but were interrupted by Stephen.
"It needs to be a secret or it won't come true."
You nodded, closing your eyes and thinking about your wish with all your might, and then you blew out the candle.
You definitely shouldn't have eaten the second piece of cake, but it was so good that it was impossible to deny it, and besides, there would always be the next day to make up for the excess calories, right? America, on the other hand, didn't seem worried about the calories she had consumed, but thinking about the amount of strength training that Stephen and Wong were subjecting her to, added to the fact that she was a teenager in full physical development, you knew there was no real reason for her to worry about it, and so she devoured the fourth slice quickly before looking at Stephen with her pleading eyes.
"Come on, it's time." She almost begged impatiently. Wong smirked, finishing his own slice of cake.
"Well, I guess it really is time. We have to go back to Kamar Taj after all."
You had moved your chair away from the table enough so that you could sit sideways in it and rest your back against Stephen's chest who was sitting right behind you. The excess sugar and carbohydrates were starting to kick in and you felt slightly sleepy.
"What exactly are you guys up to?" You asked interestedly. Somehow you knew that whatever it was had to do with you. America smiled broadly at Stephen, but it was Wong who answered and with a simple gesture of his fingers, a large, old and heavy book appeared in the air and fell into your lap.
"Oh my god, what is this?" You asked sitting up straight and picking up the book and placing it on the table to look at it. It had a reddish leather cover and gold lettering that read "The magic and mystery of the New York Sanctum."
"It tells the story of the Sanctum, its mysteries, peculiarities, rooms and secret passages, as well as the great events that happened here." Wong said proudly. "Theoretically it should belong to the master of the Sanctum, but since we agreed that the one who really runs the house is you, I decided that you should keep it. It is a humble gift, but of extreme value and it is also a way of saying that you are part of our world."
You couldn't help but feel emotional with those words. Since the beginning, you always wanted to be accepted and welcomed by Wong and you indeed got what you wanted and much more. You had his friendship. "This is... I don't even know what this is..." You found yourself whispering as your fingers caressed the cover of the book because your voice refused to come out.
"A small demonstration of my affection for you, Y/n. Happy birthday and thanks for making Strange a lot less unpleasant." Wong said with a smile at you that turned into a teasing smirk.
"You can compliment her without offending me, you know?" Stephen complained to which Wong shrugged.
"Sure, but it wouldn't be the same."
"Okay, now it's my turn!" America said, butting in. "Remember when we went to the mall and you were eyeing that dress?"
You put your hand over your mouth in disbelief when America made a white box materialize in front of you on the table. "No!"
"Yes!" She answered so excitedly that it seemed like the gift was for her. "I didn't understand why you didn't buy it, but after Stephen told me that Tony was having a party to celebrate your birthday, I knew you had to go dressed in it."
"But it was too expensive! That's why I didn't buy it."
"Well, I had some savings saved up and know that neither Stephen nor Wong had to give a dime to it. It's all me." She said proudly.
You opened the box, removing the silk and finally looking at the beautiful pink dress inside. "Argh, I hate you, kid! Come here, give me a hug."
America's smile widened as she walked around the table and ran to hug you.
"You're my best friend, Y/n."
"Oh, and you're mine."
The two of you were interrupted by Stephen clearing his throat exaggeratedly. "I think it's my turn now."
America stuck her tongue out at him and returned to her seat.
"Well, what could it be?" You teased and he smirked. "I heard you like this particular band, so I thought you might like this..." He moved his fingers and a beautiful vinyl of the album X by Cigarettes After Sex appeared in his hand. He didn't bother to wrap it, but there was a small red bow around the object.
You took the vinyl from his hands in a not-so-delicate way and a soft squeal escaped your lips, such was your ecstasy. "Oh my... there were only 500 copies, how did you..."
"Turn it over to see the back." He instructed proudly and when you did so you almost fell out of your chair. In beautiful script written in silver permanent marker it said "To you, Y/n, with all my love, Greg."
Your jaw dropped and you stared at Stephen and then at the vinyl and then at Stephen again and then at the vinyl trying to believe that this was real. "How..."
"Too much coercion and threats." America said teasingly and Stephen glared at her.
"He likes the Avengers. I promised I'd get him an autograph from Captain America."
You couldn't help but laugh "You're kidding."
He shook his head "I swear. But tell me, did you like it?"
You wrapped the vinyl in an awkward tight hug "What do you think?"
Stephen smirked "I think I deserve a kiss." He said holding your face in his hands and pulling you to his lips.
"Ew." You heard America complain, but at that moment, you didn't care.
"I think that's our cue. Shall we go?!" You heard Wong say as they stood up.
...
"I still can't believe everything they did for me tonight." You said still amazed by the incredible night they had given you.
You and Stephen were lying on the couch in the living room and Wong and America had just left back to Kamar Taj. The TV was on, and you had put on a random horror movie to play, but it was safe to say that neither you nor Stephen were giving a damn about the seemingly bizarre scenes on the screen.
Your bodies were so close that you could feel the heat emanating through Stephen's comfortable clothes, your legs were comfortably intertwined, and your ear was glued to his chest so you could hear the soft beating of his heart and that was the most beautiful sound in the world to you.
"You deserve everything we did and even more." Stephen answered after a minute of silence. His arms were tightly around your body, and he caressed your arms absentmindedly. "You are so loved, Y/n. Not only by me, but by everyone around you. There is something about you that is impossible not to like."
You smiled to yourself hearing those words. They seemed so foreign to you. As someone who grew up with the feeling of rejection rooted within you, it was difficult to receive love or simply understand it as something positive. For a long time you were afraid to love or be loved for fear of losing it.
"Thank you for loving me." You said simply and Stephen kissed your forehead affectionately.
"It's not like it's something hard to do." He joked.
"I spent my whole life thinking the opposite. I always saw myself as someone unlovable. You, Wong, America, Tony and all my Avengers friends showed me that wasn't true and I'm very grateful for that." You confessed, raising your head to look at him.
Stephen was so beautiful. You would never get used to the beauty of those cheekbones and that jaw, much less the color of his eyes and that goatee. The combination of all the details took your breath away every time you looked at him the way you were looking at him now.
"I love it when you look at me like that." He said smirking as if he could read your mind.
"Like what?"
"Like I'm the most important person in your life."
You smile, resting your chin on his chest. "But you are. I love you, Doctor Stephen Strange."
He smiled broadly, cupping your cheek. "And I you." He paused to think for a moment and then asked, "Can I ask what your wish was?"
You had to force your mind out of the trance his gaze had put you in and only then did you realize what he was talking about. "I thought it had to be a secret."
"I won't tell anyone." He said, smirking and making your heart flutter.
"I wished that you would stay in my life forever. That nothing would ever take the three of you away from me." You finally confessed and his smirk gave way to a sweet, open smile.
"You are so loved, sweetheart. I'm sorry the world made you think otherwise, but we are here every day to change that, to make this stubborn, anxious little head of yours understand that you are special.”
"I always feel special when I'm with you."
"Thank goodness because you are. I love you and again, Happy birthday." He said pulling you to his lips and just like that all your doubts, anxiety and tiredness of the day disappeared.
Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!
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Just Another Typical Day
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: It's just another typical day living and working with the Thunderbolts* and also dating Bucky Barnes.
WARNING: THUNDERBOLTS* SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!
"Wakey wakey! Time to start the day!" Alexei enters your shared room with Bucky at the New Avengers Tower. His loud Russian accent echoing throughout the room, "Up and at 'em, as you Americans like to say, eh?" The Red Guardian leaves as quick as he comes in.
You pull the blankets over you and Bucky and curl into his side, "I thought he'd tire of that by now," you grumble, nuzzling your face into his neck.
Bucky sleepily chuckles, "Same, we greatly underestimated him."
"Yup," you lean in to kiss him, but there's a knock at the door this time and you hear Yelena say, "You two better come out soon. You know how Alexei gets when it comes to breakfast."
Bucky groans, "Maybe I should've kept my place in Brooklyn."
"Yeah, maybe," you giggle and kick off the blanket and sheets. You and Bucky made sure to start sleeping with clothes on after Alexei had barged into your room while you two were naked far too many times.
You two quickly dress and step out into the hall, the same time Bob steps out of his room. You bump shoulders with him, "Mornin', Robby."
He shyly smiles and nods, "Y/N, Bucky. Morning." Despite knowing and living with the guy for a little over a year, he's still very shy with you and the rest of the New Avengers.
You all meet in the kitchen where everyone is spread out doing their own task of cooking breakfast.
Today, John is at the stove cooking the bacon, Ava is making omelets, Bob and Yelena are working together to make French toast.
"Just in time! Bucky and Y/N, you'll cut the fruit for the fruit salad!" Alexei gestures to the section on the large kitchen island where an array of fruits are spread out.
Alexei considers breakfast and dinner time as family time. Therefore, he makes sure everyone cooks and eats together like a family. Everyone except for him because, despite his good intentions, he's not very good at cooking. Therefore, the Red Guardian sits back and lets everyone else do the work while he scrolls on his phone.
You and Bucky stand beside each other, cutting your respective fruits and tossing them into the large bowl. Bucky hums to the music softly playing in the background and you sway to the music.
You also hear Ava and John arguing at the stove, "I just don't understand how you don't like scrambled eggs?" Ava says in disbelief.
"I just don't like the texture!"
"Most people usually say that about sunny side eggs."
"Well I'm not most people!"
You tune them out because arguments and bantering is very typical with this group. You weren't there when the group was first formed, but you take everyone's word for it when they say that they all tried to kill each other in the beginning.
Honestly sometimes it still seems like they're trying to kill each other.
You clear your throat and speak up, "So, John, you excited for visitation in a few days?"
John's wife, Olivia, had filed for divorce and got full custody of their son. Bucky smirks at you, you often played mediator when members of the group began to argue.
John clears his throat, "Yeah. I'm meeting them at the park again. He-He's getting used to me again, which is nice."
You nod, "One step at a time. Just gotta continue to show that you still love and care for him. You got this."
"Thanks," John murmurs.
"Dang it," you hear Bob say and you look to the other side of the kitchen island. He has egg all over his hand.
Yelena chuckles, "It's okay. At least you got it in the bowl this time."
"You good, Robby?" you ask him with a smile.
Bob sighs, "I've been watching a lot of cooking shows recently so I wanted to try cracking an egg with one hand."
You chuckle, "Not everyone gets it on the first try. Bucky sucks at cracking eggs. Gets shell bits in 'em every single time." You look at your boyfriend with a teasing smirk.
Bucky groans, "Must you always-"
"Yes, because it's funny and adorable," you kiss his cheek and it makes Yelena gag.
"You two are cute and disgusting. I hate you guys."
You throw her a wink, "Love you too, Lena."
The rest of breakfast prep continues with more banter and a few burnt bacon strips, but, overall, a success.
Everything is plated on the table that you're all sat around. Bucky serves you your food first then grabs his own food. You all eat and chat with each other, enjoying the normal morning you have before the business of work and saving the day hits you all.
You look around the table with a grateful gleam in your eyes. You're happy you joined this band of misfits turned heroes.
(A/N: AVENGERS TOWER FICS ARE SOOOOO BACK!)
Hi!! I’m new here so I’m sorry if I do this wrong. Just want to send some Thunderbolts!Bucky ideas maybe he called his girlfriend (the reader) for backup (maybe she’s a former shield agent) but didn’t share too many info with the group and they all a little surprised to find out he has a girlfriend
Let me know what you think, thanks!
i absolutely LOVE this!!! Ever since I saw Thunderbolts I've been thinking about almost this exact thing and I got another ask for something similar, so here we are! I'm also tempted to make a part two of this but focus on the two of them more and make it a comfort thing to apologize for my shame room fic LOL
love you 3000!
Signed Up For This
Word count: 1,143
As far as the media knew, the two of you were nothing more than acquaintances.
But it was a bond that had gone back a lifetime, from when the two of you had first met when you were fresh out of escaping the Red Room, to when he was the contact you had made to get a fresh start on life and he was in the process of trying to make amends with his existence, so he had offered to get coffee. “We both need some… new connections,” he had said, offering that awkward smile that you had fallen for almost as quickly as he’d fallen for you.
It was your idea to keep it a secret. You knew how he felt about weaknesses and you were currently the only one he really had. If anyone knew the truth… God, it terrified him. The idea of losing the one pure and right thing he’d gained in this side of the century drove him into a panic more often than he’d admit. So he was glad you had brought it up, worried you might be offended or think he was ashamed of you.
Which was what made him making you the head of his security when he decided to run for Congress a little out of the blue, but you took it. Any opportunity to be close. Plus… who said sneaking around at work was for teenagers?
But tonight, you had a different reason for asking to speak to him in private in the middle of the fundraiser gala. You knew that look on his face. That look that said he was plotting when he very much should not have been.
“What are you thinking?” you asked, peeking around the corner for a moment before your gaze fixed on him again. It was a miracle his hair had stayed in place, but there was a reason he always made you do it for him. “I can see that look.”
“What look?” he replied, that dumb grin you’d fallen for years ago pulling at his mouth. “I’m not thinking.”
“You are such a liar, James Barnes. I can see it. Whatever you’re thinking, leave it alone. We are past our meddling days.”
“I’m not meddling,” he said.
You tilted your head. “Do not let this stuff with Valentina get personal. You can’t afford to get in trouble with all this.”
“The politics don’t—”
“I’m not talking about politics,” you said. “I’m talking about you, Buck. We don’t know for sure what’s going on and we can’t act until we do. Otherwise we’ll be in just as much trouble as she is.”
“I talked to her assistant,” Bucky said.
“Her assistant? Mel?”
“Yes. She’s on the fence.”
“Okay. Tell her to call you when she’s made a decision. Don’t make it your job to change her mind,” you said, taking a step closer. He just stood there a moment, looking you over. Not in that ‘get in the office and take off that dress’ kind of way he normally did, but like he was just taking in your existence. “You told me that my job as your security is to keep you safe. But my job as your fiance is to make sure that we’re not making dumb decisions. Let Mel come to you.”
He nodded, reaching for your waist to tug your body closer. Normally you’d pull away in a setting like this, even hidden, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. Not now. Not when you had that feeling in your stomach that something was just off. And that feeling had never led you astray. “I just make your job harder, don’t I?” he said with a small, teasing smile.
“You do, but I signed up for it,” you replied.
“I’ll be good,” he said, nodding. “But… Mel’s just a kid. If she needs help—”
“Help her,” I said. “And if she needs more than that, call me.”
He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your mouth. “My best girl,” he whispered.
“Always.”
And you should’ve known after that conversation that it was only a matter of time. Within thirty-six hours, you were sent a pin drop link to some place in the middle of nowhere and a message that just said “need you.”
You’d tugged on that leather uniform jacket you hadn’t touched in a long time and braided back your hair before pulling up to some abandoned garage in the middle of nowhere, intel in hand. You could hear voices from inside, something about a “Bob” and exclamations of words you hardly understood.
You shoved through the rusted door, swiping up on the tab in your hands. “She took over the old Avengers tower,” you said, approaching and offering Bucky the tablet. “Heat signatures say she has the place crawling with security and I ran facial rec on the guy she brought in early this morning.”
“So guns blazing is the only way in,” Bucky said, reaching to squeeze your hand in a silent thank you.
You shrugged your shoulders. “Guess so,” you replied before turning to the abstract group of circus people tied up in front of you. And John. “What the hell happened here? Bucky, I told you to just leave Walker alone, he’s been through enough.”
“Who are you?” the little blonde in black asked. If you squinted, you might recognize her. Like some sort of really distant, childhood memory.
Bucky blew out a breath before you could answer. “She’s my fiance.”
“Your what?” came from all four of them.
“He’s married?” the brunette asked.
“In the process,” I corrected.
“How did that happen?” Walker muttered.
“Oh, that is cute!” the large one exclaimed, seeming to be way too happy considering the circumstance.
You glanced at Bucky, your arms folded over your chest. “This is… who was so important?”
“They’re witnesses,” Bucky said, giving you a look as if to tell you to be kind.
A sigh escaped your lips as you looked at the others. “Most ragtag team I’ve ever seen,” you said, shaking your head. “What, exactly, is the plan here?”
“Well, originally, they were my witnesses,” Bucky said, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “But now the agenda looks a little different. Take out Val, help Bob. Then we go home.”
“Bob?” You asked. “Like Robert?” You took the tablet from his hands and swiped it open. “Yeah, he’s a big deal now. If we’re gonna move, we need to do it fast.” You swapped a knowing look with Bucky as he nodded. “I’ll start the car.”
As you made your way towards the door, you heard the voices behind you.
“So you’re really not all bite, huh?” one of the girls said.
“Someone really does have a soft spot.”
“Isn’t that cute."
And despite yourself, a small smile pulled at your lips.
you'd make me fall from heaven
Summary: What if Loki is a fallen angel and reader is still one? Heavily inspired in the ineffable husbands of course Tags: Fluff,banter, mutual pining and THE enemies to lovers Warnings: Saint Peter will ask about this when my time comes - this is pure blasphemy I am sorry Word count: 4.7 K Left GIF belongs to: @tomhiddleston-loki Right GIF belings to: @stevenrogered Read on AO3
You watched as the couple left the garden, both ashamed of what they had done.
“I won this time.” A sultry voice spoke from behind.
You turned to it in a defensive position, your holy sword in one hand and a shield on the other, making a full display of your wings and halo.
“Well, hello.” A tall man, with dark hair and mesmerizing eyes greeted you. “I don’t think we have been introduced.” His sight roamed through your tunic covered body.
“Nor shall we. I order you to leave immediately.” Your voice did not falter but one of his eyebrows rose in defiance.
“Or what?” A smirk also played on his face.
“Wait and find out.” You defied him as well.
A lustful demeanor took him over, “Oh, I’d really like that, angel.” He took a step closer and you raised your sword, “the name’s Loki.”
Before he took another step you spoke, “The smartest thing you can do is leave before an Archangel sees you and ends you.”
He stared in silence, “Are you sparing me? Because if you are, I will be at your dearest service.”
“Just leave, disgusting demon.”
And with a wink he dissapeared in the air.
***
“ What have you done? ” The heavenly voice asked Cain, as you watched from afar.
Abel lay dead on the ground, his blood spilling the earth; staring at the crimson liquid you felt an obnoxious presence near you.
“That is probably the lowest you’ve gone, fallen .” You added a nickname for him.
Loki creeped behind you until he reached your side. “Is that a challenge, I hear?”
You turned to find him smiling, actually smiling, enraging you. “I should have ended you in the garden of Eden.” You muttered. “I will kill you.” With a flick of your wrist you leaned your sword on his throat. The mere touching causing visible damage on his skin.
“Threatening to commit murder is actually a form of flattery, angel.” His eyes shone, “I will die happily if it means I got you to sin.”
Your sword came back to your hip in an instant as a gasp left your mouth. With tears in your eyes you stared at him; his blue eyes staring back at you nonchalantly, curly black hair falling on his shoulders and a devilish grin on.
You turned away from him muttering “just get away from me, please.”
***
You could not believe your eyes as you stared into Gomorrah, bodies clinged to each other, doing things you had never seen before. You were sent to stop it, to warn them of the fury of the Lord, but something in your belly did not allow you to stop staring.
“‘tis a dangerous place for a woman to set foot in.”
You finally looked away and turned to find Loki leaning against a wall. His hair was in a ponytail, small curls bouncing free behind his ears.
“I am not a woman.” You muttered.
He gasped “You’re not?! Then what’s under that?” He signaled at your tunic.
“I am an angel of the lord and as such I am not categorized into the social ideologies of the bodies.” You calmly explained before turning back to the people sinning in front of you.
“Does he agree with that? Your boss?” He bumped you with his shoulder, throwing you off tracks. Exasperated, you turned back to him.
“First of all, he created me so I don’t think he does not agree with whatever form I use. And second, he is not my boss, he is my Father.” You took a step back, “Do not bump me, demon.”
“Oh, angel, he really is not your father.” He nodded towards the people, “he is their father.”
You swallowed as you stared, again. A fuzzy, new feeling coiled in your tummy. “This is your doing?”
“Some, yeah. Not the murdering but definitely the orgies.” He said proudly.
“That’s what you call…” your hand moved ahead of you trying and failing to pinpoint, “ that ?”
“Yeah.”
“What…” you cleared your throat, “are they doing ?” Blushing, you turned to him again.
His eyes turned red as his smile extended all the way to make wrinkles, “You actually don’t know.” His head leaned back in a big laugh, “oh, you sweet, naive feathered-thing.” His sharp teeth bit his lower lip.
Your eyes rolled as you backed away from him.
“Oh, come on, don’t leave, I can’t let you go up there with that doubt.”
“I will ask Michael.” You kept walking.
“In the best case he will tell you they are sinning, the worst he will send you down to me.” He cut off your way, standing in front of you. “I will explain what it is and why they do it.”
“Do it quickly.”
The ghost of a smile creeped his face. He seemed to think about it for a second, then he asked, “do you know how babies are born?”
It was your turn to laugh, “of course!”
He raised both eyebrows, expectantly.
“Families pray to God for a baby, so He makes it and sends it to them through the mother’s belly.”
Loki took a hand to his mouth to avoid a burst of laughing. “I guess that is a way to see it.” He swallowed and turned his body towards the multitude again. “But there is something that needs to happen within their bodies for a baby to get into the mother’s belly.” His arm surrounded your shoulders as he angled your body to face them as well. “See that?” Loki’s finger pointed to a naked man standing.
“Yeah, what of it?”
“He has something between his legs that is different from what a woman has, isn’t it?” Loki’s eyes fell on you, his head was much closer than ever before, his brow almost leaning in yours. You nodded softly. “From there, sometimes, comes out a pasty liquid that goes into the woman’s belly and starts to, anatomically, form the baby.”
“Oooh.” Your head nodded in full understandment, “that is why she is putting it in her mouth!” You pointed to a woman kneeling in front of a man.
This time he could not stop himself from bursting out laughing. He even took a few steps back and faced the wall to calm down while you tried not to think of the coldness on your shoulders now that his arm was gone.
“That is not.” He tried but a laugh interrupted him. After a few more deep breaths, he turned back again. “That has entirely another purpose, and we will get there, but first, see those two?” He pointed to a couple, the man was lying on top of her, pushing his body on hers. You nodded to Loki. “That is how he puts the pasty liquid inside of her belly.”
“So all these people, are they just gathering to make babies together?” Your eyes returned to Loki, who stared at you with wonder.
“Not necessarily. Now we will talk about pleasure.” His voice darkened as he leaned to you, placing his arm on your shoulders once again, but now he turned you away from the crowd, towards him.
“What is that?”
His eyes scrutinized you, as he was deep in thought. “What do you enjoy?”
“Uh?”
“Anything. Food, music, nature, talking to Michael .” He rolled his eyes at the last one, making you giggle.
“I like music. I come to earth sometimes just to hear it.” A blushed crept in your face as you confessed.
“You sinner.” He said with sarcasm. “Alright, what you feel when you hear music” a clasp of his fingers and a quartet of musicians appeared in the corner, filling the venue with a strong melody, your eyes closed and a breath left your mouth. “That’s what they feel when they do what they do.” He whispered in your ear, flustering you even more.
Instinctively, you took a step back as you opened your eyes. Loki, in front of you, had a devil smirk on his face.
“Well.” You swallowed, “God does not like them pleasuring themselves like that.” Your words felt stiff as you spilled them.
“Well, God does not like many things, does he?”
You ignored his comment, “Thank you for explaining your demonic doing to me.” You turned on your heel and started to walk away.
“Let me know next time you get curious.”
You did not dare to look back and yell at him, mostly because he would then have noticed the color of your cheeks.
***
The Egyptian heat was starting to get to you, so much for angels not having bodily experiences. Your mouth was dry and you craved something to ease your hunger. Staring at the enslaved people working under the sun while you smoothly and quietly worked on Moises faith, was starting to weaken you. You knew it was wrong, you were not supposed to feel anything, but to see this injustice and not be able to stop it made you miserable; the sun along with all the evil surrounding you made your strength wobble.
You could feel Loki was always around, of course he had to, needing to maintain the minds of the slavers rotten.
For a reason you could not comprehend, you followed his aura until you found him, staring at sin with a smile.
“Hey, angel.” He smirked.
“Hey.” You barely whispered out of exhaustion.
“Are you alright?” He turned his entire body in your direction, his shoulders shrugged and his brows furrowed.
“I am just” you sighed, “tired”.
Everything started to fade around your eyes and before you knew it, you collapsed.
You woke up in a dark yet cold space, lying on a comfortable bed, a wet towel on your forehead and air caressing your face. After a few blinks, you identified Loki sitting in front of you, reading.
“And she lives.” He said sarcastically with his gaze still fixated on his book. “You know, you really should talk to your boss about an 8 hour shift.”
“It is not that.” He finally directed his eyes to you, a warm ocean blue staring into yours. “There was just… too much evil around.”
“And yet you went to me” he scoffed.
“I had a feeling that you wouldn’t let me die.”
“Well you shouldn’t have!” He stood, enraged.
“Am I not alive?”
“I could have done anything with you!” He raised his voice even more, “I could have murdered you! I could have dismembered you, or even worse, take you to hell and let everyone have a feast! And then take you back to heaven’s gates for your big boss to see who you ran into.” He sneered as he paced around the room. All you did was chuckle.
“But you did not.”
“I am a demon, dear. Angels do not go to demons when in need.” His voice was vicious, the warm blue in his eyes turned to ice.
“I did not go to a demon, I went to you.”
He stopped his rant to breathe out and look at you. “Well it was dumb.”
You smiled, “but you saved me.”
His eyes closed with a faint smile on his lips, “like I said, it was dumb.”
“I should eat something” you ignored him looking around the room for food.
“There” A red apple dropped on your lap.
You turned to see Loki with a mocking smile and a scowl, “really?”
“It's just an apple!” His eyes rolled, “just eat it and get the hell out of my bed.”
***
“Yes, lamb blood on the lintel.” You finished explaining to the family and walked off, looking for the next ones when a man reached your step.
“A bit too far this one, eh?” Loki whispered near your shoulder.
“It is not in me to question my Lord’s order and neither should you.” Your voice was filled with pride and duty.
“He never liked the first borns, anyway.” He mocked.
You turned to see him again, both eyebrows raised. “Of course hell would find a way to make this about themselves. God does not revolve around you, you know?” You asked with a smirk.
He scoffed, “of course.”
He kept your pace and waited outside as you delivered the Holy message to all the households in Egypt. After the sunset you finally sat down on a boulder and he stood stoically in front of you.
“My feet are killing me.” You raised and stared at both your feet, red and trapped in sandals, dirty from all the walk of the day. With a clasp of fingers they were clean and you dipped your chin in gratitude towards Loki.
He kneeled in front of you and removed your sandals from your feet, rubbing circles on your soles with his thumbs.
“What are you doing?” Your voice revealed nothing as you stared hollowly at him.
“Trying to ease the pain.” He did not falter, his hands kept working on your skin.
“I mean here today, with me.”
He stopped to look at you, dropping your feet to his lap. “Well, the Egyptians could take you hostage, imprison you or worse, marry you to some random.”
“Did you know Egypt is one of the places where a woman is the safest? I can buy land, I am free, I can divorce, even.” You explained with a cocky smile.
“I thought you weren’t a woman.” He reciprocated.
“I thought you were dangerous.” You bit your lower lip to stop smiling. “Are you trying to protect me?”
“No!” He scowled, “just keeping you company.”
You hugged your knees on your chest, “Thank you, then.” Another smile escaped your mouth.
He only growled in response as he stood up from the ground, patting his pants roughly to take off the dirt.
“Why did you fall?”
Your whispered question stopped his movements altogether, his eyes rose to yours but not with anger, but with pain.
He took a step forward, not breaking eye contact, and for a while his eyes told you he was having an internal battle.
“Because I was not as worthy as my brother.” Loki finally muttered before walking away.
***
“You can still stop this, take him to justice.” You whispered in the human’s right ear.
“Just stab him.” Loki bittered on his left.
“This is not the way.” You tried to convince him.
“It is the only way.” But the demon next to you kept tempting him.
Brutus finally stabbed Caesar, putting an end to his dictatorship.
You walked out of the Theater of Pompey, defeated, with Loki following nearby.
“Cheer up, darling. Brighter days will come.” He mused.
“I doubt it. Poor Cleopatra, may God help her grief.” You prayed, head down.
“She is not one of yours, you know.”
You raised your face to find him standing in front of you. “ Everyone is one of ours.”
You sat down on the steps of the Theater.
“Can you imagine the amount of filth that is on that floor?”
“I didn’t take you for a clean one.”
“Are you kidding? That’s why I’m up here all the time.”
You giggled, “look at the bright side, fire kills bacteria.”
He scowled, “Very funny. I didn’t know you were capable of joking.” His head tilted softly to the side.
You rested your palms on the floor, leaning backwards a little to lift your face to him.
“Humans are starting to grow on me.”
Loki smiled. “Don’t get too attached, dear, I will still take them from you.”
“You should take me-” his eyebrows rose and his smile grew, “TO DINNER.” You yelled, offended. “I’m hungry, okay? Trying to stop a murder is exhausting.” You rose to your feet, two steps above where he was standing, finally being the same height gave you the full view of his lusting eyes.
“I’d take you anywhere, angel, to dinner, for a drink, hell.” He smirked as he extended his arm for you to lean on.
“You don’t even go to hell.” You accepted his offer, placing your hand on him.
“I can still give you a guided tour.”
You both laughed as you walked off.
***
“ ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants’ . And he arose, and came to his father. But when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.” Jesus spoke with great calmness to his disciples, and you listened from afar with a smile.
“Do you think he means it?” Loki asked on your left. You scoffed.
“Of course, He does not lie.” You pointed at Jesus with your chin, leaning a little closer to Loki. “You just need to repent.” You said softly, looking at him.
His chin was held high, proudly; looking down on everyone around. He growled in response before stepping away from you and disappearing.
***
“You did this, didn’t you?” You asked Loki with tears in your eyes.
He stood beside you, his hair a bit longer than before, wearing a green tunic that made his eyes pop and his skin even paler.
“Oh, no angel, that was not me.” His hand cradled your cheek to wipe away a tear.
“Then who else could have done this?!” Your tears kept falling as you watched the man you had been sent to take care of, be tortured and killed.
“I’m afraid it was your boss, darling.”
You turned to see Loki, enraged, “No, He sent his son to teach humans the holy word, he did not sent his son to-“
“Die for their sins? That was the whole plan.”
“I don’t understand.” You covered your eyes with your hands.
“Don’t worry your divine little head with that, you don’t have to understand, you just have to obey.” Although there was hatred in his words, he sounded sincere and kind, somehow. “What happened to him, anyway?” Loki asked, as you both stared at the man being nailed to a wooden cross.
“Mm?” Your eyebrows rose as you turned to face the demon next to you.
“The big guy. Ages ago he would’ve torn this place to ashes for much less.”
You smirked, “yeah, or under water.”
Loki laughed, “or filled it with, what were those awful bugs?”
“Locusts!” You yelled with a smile and his smirk softened. “Yeah… I guess parenthood made him softer.” Your arms crossed on your chest.
“Wanna grab a drink? You don’t have to see this, y’know?” You looked once again and saw how the cross was slowly lifted. Your eyes closed instantly.
“Yes, but-“ you bit your lower lip anxiously, “I don’t have any money.” Loki rolled his eyes with a smirk and before he spoke you continued, “And I can not just make it appear, it’s… against the rules.”
“Of course, modesty and all.” He laughed, “Don’t worry, angel. It 's on me. Now and every other time you allow me.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to guide you through the crowd.
***
You looked at Loki from afar, a bunch of people were sitting around him while he showed them a book and explained what was inside.
He raised his eyes to you eventually, with a smile you dipped your chin in a gesture of challenge. After an hour, he finished his lesson by giving all the people a book and then walked to you.
“What brings you to America, angel?”
“Evangelization, of course.” You smiled at him. “You?”
“Same thing, I’m afraid.”
“Is that why you gave them books? Are they your disciples?”
“Sort of.”
“But you were teaching them how to read, you dirty liar!” You accused him with a smile.
“Well, technically, it is a sin for them to know how to read.”
You busted out laughing, “no it’s not!”
“Your people say it is!”
“Well they are obviously wrong! I wonder whose work it is that got them thinking some humans are better than others!”
He smirked, “Point taken. But you are still losing, angel.”
You took a step closer to him with a seductive smirk, “How is having a demon doing good deeds losing?”
“So you know this is wrong? How has your boss not sent them a message that this is wrong?”
“He does not communicate with them like before, you know that. His message was loud and clear with Christ and He has given them free will, the shall be judged in the afterlife.” The air of holy and perfection came back to you, making Loki roll his eyes. “You, on the other hand, seem to have understood Christ’s message perfectly.” The corners of your lips tilted upwards.
“I am going against your own rules.” Loki gritted.
You scoffed, “Whatever floats your boat, love.” And with the same seductive smirk, you walked away.
“You calling me love certainly does.”
You did not turn back.
***
“What is that?” You pointed at the shiny chain around Loki’s neck.
“Oh, this? Is called jewelry.”
“Is it ornamental?” You took a step forward to inspect it closely.
“Yes and no. It is very expensive.” He pulled it from your fingers to put it back into place. “You see humans found out that the big guy left some shiny rocks down here and they are making these out of those.” He extended his hands to show some other metals around his fingers. “Only kings and queens use them.” He gave you one to inspect.
You fiddled it while you laughed, “but you are no king, you’re the lowest being in the universe!”
“I may have fallen, but I kept my title.” He snatched back and put it on again. “I am still a Prince. And I brought you one.” He searched in his pocket and extended a golden chain with a dangling charm.
“What is this?” You looked at it, there were two lines, one horizontal and one vertical, against each other. The horizontal was slightly shorter than the vertical.
“It is what your followers use to identify each other nowadays.”
Your brows furrowed as you tried to understand, “but what does it mean?” You look back at Loki.
“It symbolizes the cross where Jesus died.” He calmly explained.
“IT WHAT?” You tossed it away but Loki catched it gracefully. “That is AWFUL. Why would they choose the Lord’s most traumatic event as a way to identify their religious beliefs?” You gasped in horror. “This is your doing, Loki.” You pointed a finger at him.
The corners of his mouth quirked up, “I’m afraid I can not take credit for that.” He extended his hand with the chain to you again. “Use it, let them see you as one of them. Maybe they will even start following the rules more closely led by your example.” His eyebrows perked up in a quiet petition. You only nodded.
He walked to your back, you lifted your hair as he clasped the thin, golden chain around your neck.
“It is quite pretty, though. Thank you.”
“I’m glad you like it, angel.” He whispered in your ear.
***
“What are you wearing?” Loki scowled.
He stood in front of you with a full black outfit, as usual.
“My-my tunic.” You looked down on you, blushing. “Why?”
“You will draw attention.” He clasped his fingers and your white tunic turned into a red velvet dress, the bodice was tight lining your waist and breasts, with golden embroidered details, while the skirt’s details were in a darker shade of red.
“What are you doing?!” You gasped at the change. “What is this?!” Your open hands signaling down your body.
“It is my treat to you.” A devilish grin adorned his face, “although I can’t say it’s not for me too.” His eyes wandered your body.
“Oh and this color!” You finally touched the fabric, changing its color to a light blue and white details and a much more loose bodice. “Much better.”
Loki pursed his lips in disapproval. “Be careful, let’s hope the King does not see you and desires you to marry.” He offered his arm to you, gracefully you placed your hand on the inside of his elbow and let him guide you through the street.
You chuckled “Henry the Eight is married already, perhaps since it is an alliance blessed by God you did not notice.” You added smugly.
With a smile on his face, Loki raised your hand and placed a kiss on your knuckles. “Soon enough you will know what I mean, dear.”
You both walked through the London streets looking for a decent looking tavern to share a drink.
“So what have you been up to lately?” You asked, lifting a golden goblet to your lips.
“The usual, you know, tempting.” A charming smile adorned his face. “You?”
“The opposite, of course.” You smiled as well, “your
brother asked me about you the other day.”
Loki nearly spat his drink, still coughing, he asked, “pardon me?”
You tilted your head to the side with a smug smile.
“And what does my dear brother say?”
“He is very surprised I haven’t seen you all these years on Earth.” You said with a smirk and he quickly matched.
“Well I was always the smart one.”
You tried your best not to laugh but you could not hold it, and just as you gained your breath again, a big sweaty hand fell on your shoulder.
“Haven’t seen this whore before.” A fat man grabbed you towards him, but before you could react, Loki had unsheathed his sword and stabbed him dead.
You gasped in horror while Loki pulled you to him and transported you elsewhere. In just a second you were in Spain.
“What did you just do?!” You asked, horrified.
“I saved you.” He answered calmed.
“You killed him.”
“He disrespected you and was going to hurt you.” He stood proudly in front of you.
“You murdered him.” You took a step towards him, although he was much taller, you defied him with your stare although your breath was hitching, still in complete shock.
“Yes, for you!” He snapped, shouting at you, “And God knows I’d do it again!” He lowered his face to yours and in his eyes was long gone the saphire blue, replaced by a hellfire red.
“Then I shall not allow the opportunity.” You straightened yourself to walk away but he stopped you with a hand on your waist.
“Angel.” His hoarse voice was not demanding this time, but begging .
“Fallen.”
You look into his red eyes until they return to blue, actually feeling the rage leave his body. You tried to focus on your breathing instead of how you felt with his digits still on your body.
“Farewell, Loki.” You sighed.
“See you around, angel.”
***
You were sitting on a bench in front of a church looking at the just married couple. They looked happy and inlove, everything around was filled with flowers. You looked with joy and a pinch of jealousy. That’s when he appeared next to you.
“Did you summon me?” He asked, sitting next to you.
“No!” You scowled, “I would never-“ a gasp left your mouth.
“Oh, you sinner.” He sneered. “What is it that made you sin?” His eyes wandered around, struggling to find it and you did not try to help him. “Them?” He pointed at the people gathering outside of the church.
“I am not jealous in a sense that I don’t want them to have it.” You quickly explained, straightening yourself. “I just wish I could too.”
“Oh, darling!” Loki laughed, “you are better than that, you are an angel! They wish to be like you.”
“But I just want that!” You cried out.
“A wedding?”
“No! A family.” Your head lowered in shame, “a partner to share my life with.”
You felt Loki leaned closer to you. “Why don’t you ask Micha-“ His mock was interrupted by your lips, since you grabbed his hair and clasped your mouth to his.
He was hesitant at first, but he quickly adjusted to your pace and kissed you back fiercely. One of his hands cradled your cheek while the other sat on your waist, pulling you to him.
“Took you long enough” he whispered in your mouth.
-
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Mel • 18 • 1# loki defender
101 posts