She/Her Bisexual in love with Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Wanda Maximoff, Loki Laufeyson, and Miguel O'Hara. That's Literally My Whole Personality.
HYDRA has made their share of human experiments. You're just one of them. One of the least successful ones. One of the least functional ones. At least your life in the facility gave you a few things: unwavering resilience, cool(ish) superpowers and a great sense of humor. Steve Rogers would strongly disagree with that last one. A single chance encounter with him reluctantly brings you into the Avengers Compound, and you're determined to make his life as miserable as you can. Feeling's mutual.
notes: An Enemies to Lovers, Steve-needs-to-relax sort of story. No use of Y/N on this one, been keeping the reader's physical descriptions low too! The white girl of the image is just used for the lightning vibes.
(warnings: mentions of human experimentation, violence, cursing, sexual tension, eventual smut, low self esteem, mentions of death, stressed!steve)
AO3 | Playlist (coming soon!)
part 1: THE CATALYST
part 2: CONDUCTIVE ACCORDS
part 3: FRICTION SURGENCE
Summary: It’s a Wednesday when the sky quite literally opens up above you. The Battle of New York rages around you, and the only thing that gets you through is the stranger standing next to you. Matthew Murdock is more than he seems, keeping you safe in a city that is literally crumbling around you, and even once the dust settles, his hand is the only thing you don’t want to let go of.
Trigger warning: This chapter is a little dark and features the death of an un-named character. Read with caution if that might be triggering.
Summary: There are multiple Canon events in a spider-person’s life. And when one of yours has occurred, you were not sure if you could even keep going as the Spider of your world, not when you’ve lost the love of your life.
TW: Angst, mentions of Death, google translated Spanish, maybe a bit confusing(?), unedited
One || Two || Three
——————————
Had you known about canon events earlier, and had gotten your hands on a device that could detect them, maybe you could have saved the love of your life. But you didn’t. You did not know any of that just yet. No.
You were stuck mourning over the loss of your husband, Miguel O’Hara. Mourning over the loss of both of him and his daughter.
Gabriella was not your kid, just Miguel’s, but you treated her as your own— you raised her as your own. She was your daughter, no matter what anyone else had to say, and Miguel was your husband.
Losing Gabi was already too much, but losing Miguel due to your own failure— due to your incompetence at being that hero everyone looked up at? That was enough for you to stop functioning completely.
Stop waking up in the morning content with your life and with the two most important people in your life no longer there with you. Stop singing and dance along the radio music that you three used to do while heading to work. Stop going the job you used to love so much. Stop smiling. Stop laughing. Stop being that friendly neighborhood spider that people looked for when something weird occurs in town.
“Red-Back Spider” thats what they called you. Just named right after the toxic species of that mutated spider that bit you. You never were that creative with naming, heck, it was Miguel that jokingly suggested to you that you just recycle and use the species name.
No matter how hard you tried, you could never really keep anything a secret with Miguel. He wasn’t just your husband, he was your best friend. He was the one person you confided in after the death of your uncle… and after the death of your daughter
How you got bitten and turned into the spider-person you were now, was almost a blur. You weren’t even sure why the damned spider was there, but it was.
It was there in your crashed car after your swerved and tried to avoid that stupid drunk driver in a truck that continued to drive at the red light. The slippery, icy streets did not help you as you tried your best to protect Gabi from the impact. The car swerved and the tires slipped against the icy pavement. The truck hit the backside of your car and it caused it to turn over, rolling to the side of the intersection then ultimately hitting a corner pole.
Upside down and barely awake, you were trying to reach out for your daughter, when you think you see the big Red Back spider crawling to you. Honestly, you could not care less at the time as it was your daughter that was the first priority. You needed to know if she was alright— if she was alive.
You felt the arachnid sink its fangs into your skin and you hissed before swatting it away and weakly trying to call out for Gabriella, who gave no response. The sound of the sirens came, but it slowly blurred out as your lost consciousness, the last image you see was your little girl.
Had that spider not bite you, maybe you would have not survived the crash at all. Maybe you would have been with your Gabriella. Maybe you would not be feeling this amount of grief.
You blamed yourself for Gabriella’s death, but Miguel always assured you that it wasn’t. He knew you had no control over what had happened. You acted out the best you could. And he was honestly so glad that you survived.
However, years later, in this dark moment, where you sat in the corner of your untouched room. The sheets cold and still a mess like how Miguel had left them the day he died, you wished you had not survived then. You wished you had not been bitten by that radioactive spider.
You wished you weren’t the RedBack Spider.
It had been almost a month since Miguel’s passing and things could not be any harder. You dared not to clean the bed where the marks of where he laid were still there. You dared not to throw away the slowly spoiling sealed meal that had ‘Miguel’s lunch’ written on it. You dared not to touch the house at all, not when Miguel had left it just how he liked it when he was still alive.
You cursed yourself for being incompetent. You cursed at the world for being so cruel. You wanted to curse the universe for ever making you the spider-person you were.
Sometimes, you wondered if there was any other universes where you weren’t bitten— where you weren’t RedBack.. where maybe, you would have the happy family you had then… where Miguel was still alive.
The city barely noticed your absence, well, they did a bit. The occasional weird villains showing up was technically the only time they ever really called for RedBack’s help. Aside from that, you were sure the police could handle it, especially since they seemed to be complaining that the spider vigilante always meddled with their business.
Now, however, you no longer wanted to be that enthusiastic helping RedBack. Not when you lost everything now. Not when you already failed. You stayed curled up on the floor, no longer having any drive in you.
Even so, you still had the radio on. Even when feeling empty, you still listened to the daily updates about the city despite not planning on helping out at all anyway. Probably a habit you still haven’t let go just yet.
“Calling for back up— calling for back up!” The radio played, the choppy yet familiar voice of an old friend of yours could he heard yelling. “There’s uhh— there’s this— I don’t even know what it is! Just send back up!” There was desperation in his voice as he says location through the radio, probably calling in all of the other officers on duty out there.
You debated whether or not to go. You asked yourself that maybe, it was time to finally let go of your place as RedBack.
However, the nagging feeling in your head told you to help— yelled at you to anonymously help that friend of yours. Mateo Madrigal, the soon-to-be Captain.
“Any back up! It it looks like a- a dinosaur or a mutated lizard or something!” You sighed, knowing its the Lizard. Knowing well, they would need all the help they could get to stop that overgrown reptile.
Might as well get a fresh start with a good relationship with the captain, right?
Despite not feeling like it, your feet dragged you up and to the changing room and then out your window. You clawed and clung to the wall as your four extra spider legs came out of your back.
It did not take long for you to arrive to the scene, only to realize that it was not your mutated Lizard man. He was black and white, as if he was a walking filter.
The monochrome creature rampaged around and it just shook you away from your thoughts of his ‘other worldliness’ as you swung in and tried to help out.
“Stay back!” You ordered the officers, webbing them to their cars and to the floor as you kicked the Lizard into the now evacuated high-school gym.
Using your extra appendages, a mutation you got from the spider bite, it doesn’t take you long to web him up enough to restrain him as he continues to glitch like a virus.
He definitely was not the Lizard you knew. Especially since he was a walking black and white filter.
You bring yourself closer to him, lifting your mask up slightly as you reveal your fangs. Another small quirk you got aside from all the other ‘basic’ spider-person features was a paralyzing to poisoning bite, which you could control.
As you got closer to bite him, you stop as at your peripheral, a disorienting, bright portal opens up and two people walk right out.
“Ah another biter.” Jessica Drew chuckled as she watched you pulled your mask back down and look at them defensively, arachnid limbs stretching out and readying to attack them if ever they decided to try and fight you.
“Hopefully they aren’t as condescending as the other guy.” Hobie Brown scoffed, standing in such a relaxed manner as he eyed your capture work under his mask. “But a pretty interesting one, innit?” He chuckles a bit. “Managed to handle the anomaly before we even got here.”
Jessica agrees as she slowly steps closer to you, hands up as a sign of no harm. You glared at them, unsure what to think.
It only gets weirder when the web at the Lizard, making you realize that they were just like you… spider people.
It doesn’t take you long to ask them questions like where they came from. How they became spiderman/ woman and what the hell was an anomaly.
Seemingly interested in you skill and unique mutations, Jessica smiles and asks you to join them as she explained everything.
Walking through the portal with them, you were brought to the HQ of the spider society. An entire society filled with spider persons. Filled with people… like you. So many variants, so many different universes…
It made you wonder if…
“Hey, Miguel, I’ve got someone interesting you’d might like on the team.” Jessica smiles as she brought you to a large office. It was dark and quite dimly lit.
Your heart nearly stopped when you hear the name. Miguel… there’s no way… it couldn’t be… It was impossible…right?
“Met them when trying to hunt for that Lizard anomaly.” Jessica continues as you see a platform slowly go down. The bright yellow holograms lit the room up more as you stared at the back of a tall, muscled man.
It couldn’t be… it really couldn’t be…
You body tensed and you could feel you chest getting heavy as your breathe shallowed, but you tried not to make it obvious. Everything was so sudden, you were barely wrapping your head around the fact that there were other spider persons… but this—
“Dios Mio.” You knew that voice all too well. The frustrated tone mixed with a slightly strong accent, there was no denying it now. “you can’t just keep picking up every spider person you encounter whenever you go on an anomaly hunt.”
“Will you just meet them at least?” Jessica crossed her arms, unamused and unaware of how affected you were with all of this— with him. It made you glad you were still wearing a mask.
You could practically hear the pounding of your heart as the man in a skin-tight dark blue and red suit finally turned to look down from the platform. His dark red eyes squinting down at you.
Jessica glanced at you to see how tense you suddenly were. She chuckled and gave you an assuring pat, which did not really help.
“Relax, he ain’t gonna bite. That’s just Mi—“
“Miguel O’Hara.” You cut her off as the man jumped off the slow lowering platform to stand at a distance from you, his red eyes staring at you with confusion and caution.
Breath shaky, you tried not to show how affected you were— how you were filled with so much emotions, you felt like puking.
♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader (Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au)
♡ Series Summary: Bucky gets picked by a very rich and respected man to be his daughter’s personal bodyguard. The Father warns him that it won’t be an easy job, that she is a brat and difficult to deal with. But what happens when Bucky meets you and you’re the complete opposite?
♡ Series Warnings: mentions of amputation, dark themes, violence, death/death threats, talk of parent death, fluff, angst, stalking, daddy issues, anxiety attacks (warnings to be added as new chapters are released)
Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine ☀️
(SERIES ONGOING)
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | SERIES 18+
⇨ Chapter One
↳ After Pierce interviews Bucky for the job, he warns him of you. Bucky is starting to rethink his decision, but when he meets you... you're not what he expected.
⇨ Chapter Two
↳ Bucky takes you home, and later finds you in the library. You both get to know each other a little better, but Bucky is hesitant.
⇨ Chapter Three
↳ Bucky has a surprise meeting with Pierce, getting informed about your secret admire. Meanwhile, Bucky tries to keep things professional, he’s hesitant to cross the line when you need him.
⇨ Chapter Four
↳ You don’t know what to think of Bucky after he took you to bed last night. Bucky can’t continue to keep the stalking situation hidden from you. Something is found on your doorstep.
⇨ Chapter Five
↳ Getting to know each other better doesn’t go according to plan. Bucky has to comfort you and fix the mess he made. Will you forgive him?
⇨ Chapter Six
↳ Bucky receives a morning visit from Steve, with the news about what was in the box. Bucky continues to think about what he should do. Should he tell you the truth about your stalker?
could you rec some protective Bucky fics/oneshots?
Protective Bucky
masterlist | req masterlist
Purgatory by @wkemeup
While on a mission, Bucky becomes dissociated into the Winter Soldier. But instead of becoming a threat, his instinct is to protect.
Behind the Storm by @wkemeup
On a mission, you're hit with a spell that takes away your ability to see. Bucky does what he can to make you feel safe.
stairs by @lovelybarnes
overprotective!bucky at its finest.
Savior by @buckysgoldenheart
Basically, Bucky saves you and then stalks you.
vodka on rocks by @kinanabinks
when you find out that someone you slept with secretly took photos and videos of you during sex, you feel betrayed - but bucky won't stand by and let that happen to his best friend.
more than safe by @witchywithwhiskey
when you're injured on a mission in sokovia, bucky barnes comes to help—and you share a soft moment together.
Dark Divine by @sebbytrash
Bucky and you are in a relationship and when you get hurt during a mission, he seeks comfort the only way he knows how. Revenge.
seeing red by @buckysfaveplum
bucky can’t just sit and watch as a man makes you uncomfortable in a bar.
Divine Retribution by @pellucid-constellations
Nobody touches Bucky’s girl. He was going to make that very clear.
Counting by @pellucid-constellations
Time heals all wounds. Bucky’d been holding onto that proverb ever since blip. But time had never been particularly kind to him, so he opted to keep track of the sweet girl’s in his apartment building instead, the one that made him banana bread and took him to diners at two in the morning. Sometimes, you didn’t keep the same schedule. That made Bucky panic.
Expectations by @softlyspector
Bucky is overprotective of the reader, who is pregnant with his baby.
Gentle by @invisibleanonymousmonsters
Y/N has never seen Bucky be anything but gentle and loving. It’s hard for her to believe her boyfriend was ever the world’s deadliest and most lethal assassin.
Safe by @coffeecatsandcandles
You become a stripper during the blip. When Bucky comes back, he has a lot of thoughts about it.
How’s Your Head by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
A run in with a less than kind stranger on the Subway send a knight in shining armor your way.
What Could Go Wrong? by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
A SWORD function at the compound has Bucky feeling uneasy. He can’t seem to stop himself from checking up on you, but you swear to him that you’re not in danger- you’re wrong.
Nothing Fucks With My Baby by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
Bucky shows up late to a Shield party and finds out that a new agent made you uncomfortable. He takes care of it.
False Reality by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
Running into an unpleasant person from your past sends you into a shame spiral. Bucky gets you home and takes care of you- reminding you of your worth.
knight in shining armor by @b6cky
when a valentines date from hell makes y/n rethink all her life choices, a knight in shining armour is there to save her. or a knight with a shining metal arm.
Imagine | 2 by @im-an-octopus
40s!Protective Bucky + protective Bucky post Winter Soldier
The Protective Soldier by @dabblinginmarvel
Bucky met the Avengers and is atracted to the reader and protective over her.
summary: reader has had many losses in her life, and when she meets Bucky she thinks she's found the one, until life proves otherwise.
pairing: bucky barnes x avenger!f!reader
words: 4k
warnings: some bad words and angst? also some miscommunication, past trauma, reader letting her past dominate her out of fear, a somewhat slow and indecisive Bucky, no happy ending.
note: i was in front of the computer all day thinking about what i could write, looking for information from everywhere, and this is what finally came out. it's almost three o'clock in the morning. i think i definitely write after midnight. let me know what you think of this piece, i'm not quite sure how it came out. i'll be happy to read your comments tomorrow, feedback is always appreciated! for now, i'm going to rest! love you all and thank you for reading!! <3
You were being indifferent. You were trying to be indifferent. Bucky would talk to you only to talk about the missions, about the objectives and about trivial things like the weather, and you were trying to be indifferent. You'd been on that mission for a week, and you were failing terribly. Sometimes you were so dry when you responded to him that he just frowned at you with a confused look on his face. It was awful. You had never been through so much grief than when he asked you if you were okay, in front of the rest of the group.
Maybe you should put that act aside and start dealing with what was really important.
You were in love with Bucky Barnes.
And well, that should be normal. Innocent. Warm. But the truth was, you were afraid to acknowledge those feelings. You wanted to forget them, reject them and never have them around again. Or maybe you could let them out. Let the receiver of the message know what was going on and maybe with the rejection you could move on. But no, you were too afraid. You had clung too tightly to people throughout your life and that had never ended well. And yet, despite all the sadness and disappointments, you were still walking through life with your heart in your hand.
Not learning from the mistakes of your past had led you to where you were. You always thought you were making the best decisions, you were guided by that feeling, but those decisions had led you down a lousy path.
Bucky was talking. His lips were moving and from his throat came the words you weren't hearing. It had become a habit to get so lost in your thoughts that you lost yourself entirely from reality. It had cost you a couple of wake-up calls before, and now, seeing Bucky's expression, it looked like you were going to get another one.
Many of those days, you wished you could go back to the way everything was in the beginning, before your heart and your loneliness intruded on the equation. When you shared pleasant chats with Bucky, when you were a perfect duo on missions, when you ate in silence in the big kitchen of the Complex, when he accompanied you in the evenings to watch movies.
Everything was so much easier when you stayed away from people sentimentally, when you didn't want to see them more often, when you didn't want to tell them every single thing that happened in your day, when your heart didn't race just because your looks collided, when you didn't openly want to have someone's company in the solitude of the nights. Your life was so much easier when you didn't compromise with your feelings, and life had shown you that. You had been living well for months, alone, even when you came to the team and a couple of months later everything was fine. You didn't really know at what point things started to deteriorate.
“That's it,” the man in front of the table dismissed the rest of the team and kept his gaze on yours, as if that way he could keep you sitting quietly. And it was working. You hated that it did.
When the last person left the room and it was just you and Bucky inside the room, it seemed like the walls got a lot smaller around you.
“Are you okay?” he was the first to speak.
“Yeah, sure, why?”
“It's seemed to me that you've been a little distracted these days.”
“No, no, not at all, I'm fine.”
“If you need to talk to someone…” Bucky paused, his gaze flitting across the place, and your heart leaping wildly in your chest, “…I think Sam's making small talk.”
Ah.
“Ah, I see,” you mused, trying to keep your tone normal, “Thank you.”
“Let me know when you do, and you'll be back in the field.”
“What?”
Bucky stopped at your exclamation, pausing halfway to the door. His brow was furrowed and you were sure his confused look matched yours.
“Didn't you hear everything I said earlier?”
You avoided his gaze. You had told him not long ago that you weren't being distracted and of course that lie was going to come back to you soon.
Bucky sighed, his shoulders languid at his sides. His medium-length hair fell over his eyes as he ducked his head, and with his right hand he rubbed his eyes. You missed when you allowed yourself to share smiles with him, which now seemed like distant memories from other lives.
Only when he looked at you again did you realize the weariness that dominated his face.
“You're not going on missions for a while,” he finally said, and you were about to protest when he added, “Direct order from Fury.”
“Bucky-”
“I'm sorry, Y/N, but I can't risk your safety or the safety of the team or the mission because you're not well now.”
“I'm fine. I swear!”
“You're not.”
You snort. “You only see a quarter of what I do on a daily basis.”
“And that's enough to know that Fury made the right decision.”
“What the hell do you people know about right decisions?” you muttered angrily to yourself, turning your head away.
“What did you just say?” Bucky turned back entirely, his face much more disgruntled than before.
Fuck. You'd forgotten he had good hearing.
“Just… Just leave it at that. It's okay. I'll let you know when I talk to Sam.”
You took a deep breath before standing up and matching the path of the man in front of you. His frown was still furrowed, his tense posture a clear indication that he wasn't exactly pleased with what you had said. You were close enough to catch the scent of his shampoo, but not too close to be able to decipher what was going through his head. You were never too close.
“Anything else to say?”
Bucky narrowed his eyes, you couldn't decide if because of your closeness or because of how coarse your words came out, as they always did for the last couple of days.
“No.”
And without further ado, he left the room.
---
As much as you wanted to get back in the field, get back to having missions and serving for something on the team, you couldn't find the strength within yourself to talk to Sam. Maybe because he was an acquaintance and it would be weird to tell him everything you were carrying and then pretend nothing had happened. You were too self-aware to be able to do that. It also came into play that it had been almost years since you last came clean with someone, and that didn't really go well. Talking to Sam, at that time, for you, was not the solution.
Maybe the only solution was to sort out your feelings for Bucky. That was what kept you on edge. That was what made you question the life you had formed over the past few years. In any other situation or time in your life, surely a man would not move you so much; however, you knew you were facing a situation you could not repeat. That you did not want to repeat.
The stark reality of the feelings you had for him was like a dagger to the heart, because you felt you had finally found a place where you belonged, where you could be; you felt you had found a home. But it was hard to live in a place like that without making a sentimental commitment to the people around you, and you knew it. You'd only fallen easily for Bucky because…. fuck, he was so caring, so thoughtful, so kind. On the outside he looked like he wanted everyone around him to disappear, but it only took you a couple of chats to understand that he really did have a big, welcoming heart.
The reality of your feelings was the end of you, because it was something you couldn't afford. You couldn't go on living there if you didn't fix that soon. You couldn't risk it again.
“Hey.”
Speaking of…
“Hi.”
Your stoic reply made him turn his head.
You were in the kitchen, sunk deep in thought in a strange calm, when Bucky showed up after three days without seeing him. You knew they had been on a mission, Natasha had told you some things. Internally, you were glad to see that they had arrived without any complications. You were glad to see that Bucky was okay.
“How are you?”
“All good.”
“You sure?”
“Why do you ask?”
You turned your gaze from your now cold coffee to the clear eyes of the man who had pulled a bottle of water from the cooler.
“Just curious.”
Hold on. Don't see beyond what he shows you.
You sighed before replying, “If what you really want to know is if I've talked to Sam, the answer is no.”
“Why?”
You picked up the white cup in front of you and absentmindedly began stirring the liquid inside it.
“I don't think I'd feel comfortable talking to him.”
You felt Bucky move around the kitchen, until he came to the island where you were sitting and sat down across from you with his bottle. You looked up to meet his blue eyes focused directly into yours. He had such a deep gaze that, for a moment, you almost allowed yourself to think beyond what he was giving you. For a second, you felt like you were in a space that was too intimate.
“And who would you feel comfortable talking to?”
You.
You hated that you didn't even need less than a second to think about it. You had the answer so clear it hurt…..
“What?”
You looked at his eyes and raised eyebrows. Fuck.
“Did I say it out loud?”
“Yeah...”
You growled in frustration. You ran your hands through your hair as Bucky spoke again, “I didn't think you held me in such high regard.”
“Really?”
“You barely even look at me lately.”
That was true. But it was for your sake. It was all for your sake. Or at least that's what you wanted to convince yourself of. You'd rather think that than the fact that your limbs ached just from wanting to get closer to him in the middle of his everyday, when he came back injured from missions and you wanted to help him heal his wounds because you knew enough to be a nurse, or help him release tension when he got too stressed out because something went wrong on a mission or they lost track of someone. You just wanted to be a person who could be present in his life. Who could be close. Closer.
“It's because I'm going through something right now.”
“And that something is my fault?”
You pursed your lips. Maybe.
“No.”
Bucky let out a short laugh.
“Those eyes say otherwise.”
“Is there something pointed you want to know, Bucky?”
“Argh,” the man twisted his expression, as if in weariness, and turned his head away. “There's that coldness again.”
You hardened your gaze as much as you could, even though all you wanted to do was let go of the string of thoughts eating away at your head; even though you just wanted to use those arms as a sheet at night so you could sleep in a safe place.
“Okay. I'm sorry,” Bucky held up his hands, retracting under your gaze. “I'd like to know, if like you said you'd rather talk to me than Sam, what's been keeping you beside yourself the last few days?”
Mmm, tough question. You took a deep breath trying to think of a quick answer, but it was difficult having his watchful eye on every millimeter of your face. Would it be too bad to tell the truth? Your past experiences said yes, but… what if it was different with him? It had been too long, he could not be the same as the others…
You shouldn't, the rational part of your brain repeated alarmingly, but he seemed so willing to truly listen to you that you couldn't pass up the opportunity. You didn't want to.
Maybe that was it. Maybe that was the end of your cycle of bad luck and bad death that had haunted and burdened you for as long as you could remember. Maybe Bucky was the start of something new.
At least you hoped so. You were trying to convince yourself.
“I do what I do because I've lost too many people to give up now. Fury found me in a pot, a city where there was nothing but chaos and hopelessness. I was trying to make things different, I wanted my hope to be enough to be able to remove the evil from the hearts of the people who hurt. But no, it was not enough. And I began to work alone because all the people who got too close to me died or decided to leave on their own, they abandoned me. I was too much to bear. The life I was leading was too much.
My mother died in a raid on my house. She was the first victim of my enemies' revenge. I thought that was enough pain a person could go through in a lifetime, but the deaths didn't stop. And sometimes I didn't know if it was worse that someone died because of me, or that my last memory of them was a look of contempt and their hateful words towards me like I was in some shit they didn't have to put up with or that I was draining their vitality, among many other things.
And the truth is, that has happened so many times that I don't even try to maintain relationships with people anymore. Any kind of relationship. And every time I feel like that's going to happen, I have to leave, because I can't stand the pain of a death or a disappointment anymore. When a person leaves, willingly or unwillingly, it's not something you get used to as time goes by. Loneliness is good, but too much of anything is bad. And even though after a while you long for the company, you know you can't risk it once again because everything is at stake. Those are already things that are way beyond me, that I wish I could control, but I can't.”
You loved and hated the way those words had rolled out of your mouth like butter. It had been a while since you had been that honest with someone, because that last person had walked out on you. After listening to you, after telling you that you could lean on their shoulder when you needed it, that person left as if they weren't breaking a promise; as if they hadn't taken a big chunk of your hope with them; as if they hadn't ripped out a little bit of that hope you still held in your heart.
And you hoped that with Bucky it would be different, because you believed that the two of you were meeting at a common ground through the darkness of your minds. From the beginning, Bucky had proven to be different. Even from before you suspected that he already knew what you had been through, because he often tiptoed around you. Bucky was not a distracted person, he was someone extremely intelligent and definitely someone who knew which people he could and could not relate to. He couldn't be the same as everyone else, because you knew he could understand you.
Or so you wanted to believe.
Bucky's eyes moved over the marble of the island, his lips half-opened and his brow slightly furrowed in concentration. You had been so sure about talking about it with him that you hadn't even given it a second thought, but if he went a few more seconds without responding, you would begin to regret it and devise an escape plan.
You wished you were a little closer to him so you could dare to ask what was going on in his head.
“Wow, that was…”
“Too much?”
“Deep, rather.”
You forced your lips into a smile, avoiding his clear eyes now that he had lifted his head and seemed to have organized his thoughts.
“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-”
“No. No, it's okay. You needed to get that out. Mmm, how do you feel now?”
You hated the way he seemed to be testing the waters when it came to addressing you after everything you just said. Before he was always sure of what he was saying. What could have changed so quickly? Could it be that you were really wrong? No, that couldn't be.
“Pretty much the same.”
“Oh, I see. But do you think you can improve from now on?”
“Well, it's a problem of years. I doubt I can solve much with a little talk.”
“Ah, yes, of course, you're right.”
Bucky folded his hands together on the countertop, his gaze now avoiding yours and entering a tense silence.
“So…” Bucky spoke a couple of seconds later, “…at this point you feel like that? Like you developed one of those relationships with someone and now you want to run away?”
“Yes,” you answered almost instantly, because there was no reason really to hide it. You had already been crudely honest, so what was the point in continuing to lie?
“With whom?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Maybe we could find a solution.”
“I doubt it.”
You narrowed your eyes as Bucky pursed his lips. You'd been through too much throughout your life, and one thing you'd definitely learned was how to read people. With so many disappointments and betrayals, you had to learn to identify a person's true intentions, and nothing else screamed intentions more than body language. You could identify when someone was comfortable with you, when they trusted you, and also when they were uncomfortable with your presence.
“And I think you doubt it too,” you added, after a couple of seconds watching him.
“Why do you say that?”
“You don't need me to tell you who I was referring to. I think you already know.”
“What?”
“You can do with that information what you want. Time will give me the answer.”
“Y/N…”
You stood up and walked out of the kitchen as if you hadn't just opened your heart to that man, your brow raised and your breathing deep. It seemed that in the end you weren't close enough to know the truth, and you couldn't be close enough in the future either.
---
A week went by and time kept proving you right. Bucky took a mission the day after your talk and still hadn't returned. You had begun to worry, but you didn't dare ask anyone on the team. You couldn't afford to be so obvious at such critical times.
However, asking could give you the last piece of information you needed to make a decision.
Because you still had a little bit of hope. You still hoped that Bucky would appear through one of the doors of the Complex to tell you that he understood, that he appreciated your honesty, and that he could walk that long road with you. You still hoped you were wrong, because you couldn't have made such a big mistake again. You couldn't have opened the doors of your mind to someone who was going to leave you because it was too much.
But as the hours passed you only confirmed that you weren't good enough for someone to stay by your side. You just weren't enough, you weren't worth the effort. Not even for someone like Bucky, who was one of the kindest and most condescending person you had ever met.
So you'd read it all wrong, and even though you were honest, you couldn't even come up with an answer.
But you preferred to get the doubt out of your mind at once, even if it threw you overboard.
Wanda Maximoff was in the control room when you arrived. No one else was there.
“Hey.”
She flipped over the chair and returned your greeting with a small smile.
“What brings you here?”
“Do you know how Bucky's mission is going?”
“Bucky's?”
Wanda frowned and promptly moved across the room to one of the computers where she typed rapidly. You shifted your legs in anticipation, shifting your weight trying to cope with your nerves.
“Bucky is… on an indefinite.”
“Indefinite?”
“Yes, it says so plainly. It was with Sam and Natasha. We don't have a date yet.”
Wanda watched you over her shoulder, and your expression had to have told her something because she quickly got up from her chair with a frown.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you replied automatically, regaining power over your emotions. You sent her a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, Wanda.”
You barely and paced for a few seconds with bated breath when you heard her call out to you.
When your eyes met hers, you didn't like what you saw at all.
“You're leaving?”
“Stay out of my head.”
You turned around and ran to your room.
Of course you did. Of course you were going to leave. What the fuck did you expect from the talk with Bucky? That you could suddenly have a happy ending with a person who seemed to care about you? You should never have taken that job in the first place. You always knew it was a big risk, but Fury assured you that you could continue working on your own without getting too involved with others. The problem was when you thought you were past the feelings stage, that you could surround yourself with people without getting involved.
How fucking wrong you were.
You didn't take long to pack a suitcase. You didn't bother to write a letter of resignation either. Before you took the job, you told the Director that you were likely to one day just leave. That you would disappear. And he agreed to that. So you weren't going to bother with goodbyes, with absolutely nothing. You were going to carry that suitcase to a cab and leave without looking back. Because that was what you always did, for your sake, because it was the right thing to do, because you couldn't afford to take risks after so much suffering.
At that moment, as you packed the few things you had, you felt every memory of every abandonment and death come back to your head, filling you with fear and insecurity. Of sadness and anger. You didn't know how you had allowed yourself to go so far when you knew you shouldn't have, that this life was not for you, that these feelings were not meant for you to experience, that you didn't deserve to have a life like this. You allowed yourself to dream, but at the end of the day it was just that, a dream.
When you left the Complex, you took a cab directly to the airport. On the way, you were tempted too many times to ask the driver to turn back, thinking that maybe it was a hasty decision, that maybe you should wait for him to come back. But an indefinite mission could last weeks, even months, and you couldn't be on tenterhooks for so long only to get the same old answer at the end. You didn't want to risk it. The cost was too high.
It was better to root out those feelings while they were still fresh, and never allow them to grow again.
---
Bucky returned from his mission two weeks later and the first thing he did was run around looking for you in every corner of the Complex until he decided to go to your room. Seeing the empty closets made his heart sink.
“She's gone,” a female voice spoke behind him.
Wanda was leaning against the door frame.
“She thought you weren't coming back and left.”
“No…”
“I know it was wrong for me to snoop around in her head, but I had a feeling that would happen. I thought I could avoid it. But her thoughts were too ingrained. She was fighting uncontainable fear. Nothing I would have said would have convinced her to stay.”
Bucky turned to look at the empty closets, not a hint that you had ever been there. If it weren't for Wanda, the man would already be thinking you were just a figment of his imagination.
“Sorry, Bucky.”
“Fuck. Damn it!”
Sitting on what had been your bed, Bucky kept thinking that the worst thing he could have done was to take that mission in Steve's stead, thinking he'd get there soon, thinking that way he could get his head together before talking to you again. But things got complicated and what was a two-day mission turned into a three-week mission.
Maybe he should have sought you out before he left instead of letting his thoughts eat away at him. Maybe he should have insisted a little more, should have come a little closer...
After a long day dealing with all of the problems being the head of the Spider Community brings with it: catching bad guys and having to be realistic with the good ones just in order to protect them, even if the truth hurt them when he whispers it in a harsh voice after he looses all patience; Miguel found himself, looking at his reflection on the screen of one of the computers, tired.
His eyes wander to the wall next to him. 10:37pm. It is still rather early, most of the people and creatures in the building are probably still awake, and it is still three hours away from the hour he usually goes to bed too. But right now he knows he won’t make it till then, he has so much stuff to do, so much to worry about but his brain can only focus in one thing, can only tell him he needs one and only one thing right now. And it’s your fault.
He grunts when he jumps from the platform all the way to the floor, fighting with his own emotions and his desperation to get out of there. He is mad at himself for the way he’s acting, for the feeling of his body looking for yours… But he can’t do any more today, he knows what he needs and if he stays here like this he knows he won’t get anything done anyway.
Miguel walks out of his “cave”, as you used to call it, and goes on his way, swinging around a couple of times on his web and crawling some more across the diagonal pillars of the building to get where he was sure you were going to be right now. Because it wasn’t like he would often turn on the cameras on one of his holograms and played to look for you till the point of unconsciously knowing your favorite places to hang out by now. Of course not.
He’s so deep in his thoughts that when he finally hears your laugh just a few meters away, his heart skips a beat. And although his face doesn’t show any particular emotion when he walks up to you and your friends, he’s internally fighting with himself again for the whole situation. What was he doing here? Why is he acting this way? What was he thinking?
“Miguel?” You raise an eyebrow at him, he can see the confusion on your eyes but he especially takes notice of how you smile still, happy to see him. Happy to see him.
“Night.” He announces his presence, walking closer to you. The people around, which isn’t much, smile nervously at him, while some others seem unbothered by the new arrival. He looks at you for a moment and he doesn’t say a single word before taking you by the wrist and announcing again: “Night.”
“No, what? Wait… Miguel!” You look back, confused at his actions. You try to plant your feet on the ground and stop the both of you, but he easily continues to drag you across the floor and soon enough, taking you by the waist despite your insistence in questioning where were you’re going, swings you around in quick and confident movements till the noise of the whole building starts to be left behind.
You sigh and let the right side of your face rest against his shoulder. Surrendering to his actions and judgement.
He appreciated that, he liked it so much more than he wanted to admit. How you relax when you’re with him, how you trust him almost blindly, how you know, without him having to say a word, that he won’t hurt you. No matter what he did or how he acted without giving you an explanation, you trusted he would always have a plan. And even if he said to himself that he didn’t need anyone, he can’t deny —he can’t understand— how much he enjoys looking around a room after a particularly hard situation to find your eyes on him, the only ones that are never scared, the only ones that keep shining in trust… He doesn’t know what he would do if that ever changes.
If he reaches to touch you and you step back. If he calls your name and you don’t turn back. He has imagined, a couple dozen times, different scenarios, with you covered in blood, with you inside this very building, with you alongside someone else, but always the same eyes: like a rabbit staring at the fox baring his teeth, terrified, trembling. He always has to look for you after that image takes over his mind, almost convincing him it could be real. He can’t find himself at peace as he erratically opens and closes his hands, until you appear before him, smiling with so much warm that he can’t imagine, he won’t imagine, another emotion in your face than this one, where he reaches out for you and you don’t step back, where he calls your name and you turn around, where he can have you in between his arms for as long as he wants now, closing the door to all of the problems of the world outside.
You take his hand when he finally steps you down, guiding you across the dark hall to his room. You remain in silence but you can hear the thud of his heart beating inside his ribcage. You’re sure he knows you can hear it. You’re sure he can hear yours too.
As he opens the door and lets you get inside the room first, you relax almost instantly. His scent fills your lungs, making the air feel lighter at the very second your take in the first breath.
“Get comfortable.” He says in a neutral voice without even looking at you, and you know exactly what he means.
As he takes off his suit you walk to his closet. You take one of your favorite t-shirts of him to put on once you got rid of your own suit. It was fresh and it brushes your skin deliciously when you put it on, like cold water after a warm day under the sun.
You jump in the bed the moment he removes the cover, humming in content when you feel the cool blankets under you. Miguel lifts one of the corners of his mouth, his eyes are still tired but you can see that soft glimmer one can only take notice of in the dark, if you pay attention, where you can see how much he’s trying, how much hope he’s still guarding inside his own heart.
He climbs onto the bed with one knee, and lets his weigh fall onto his elbows first before finally letting himself rest on top of you with a soft grunt caused by the sore of his muscles. He buries his face on your chest, right between your breasts, closing his eyes almost immediately, easing in the feeling of your skin against his own. One of his hands lifts up, waving its fingers in the air. You laugh at his action, shaking your head.
“You could use your voice to tell me what you want.” You chuckle right above his ear, sending a pleasant shiver all across his body.
“Please?” He asks like he’s not sure of the use of that word.
You smile, lifting your hand and intertwining it with his. Only then, his brows relax, letting both of your hands fall back onto the bed, caressing your skin with his thumb running up and down in a tender swing.
“How are you?” You ask in a soft whisper.
“Better now.” He answers and you can’t not even begin to comprehend how much he means those words. He doesn’t know if he wants you to do it. One step out of the door and he looses the only thing that makes him human. “How are you?” He asks back, this time turning his head up to look at your eyes.
You chuckle. “Never better.” You tilt your head, allowing him to see that warmness in your eyes only reserved for him. His jaw clenches at the sole thought of someone else holding you like he does. He can’t allow it. He knows the implications of your having a whole life on your own universe, of someone waiting to steal you from him. He doesn’t think he could go over the fact of seeing you marry someone else… Well, now the thought of you walking down the aisle in white holding someone else’s hand has ruined his mood again. He frowns, looking down again. You laugh. “What was that face?! What is it?”
He doesn’t answer and you don’t wish to push him. He spends all the time being responsible of this whole place, having to be the voice of reason among all the others. You can’t blame him to act out all his foolishness when he’s alone with you.
After a couple of minutes with you running the fingers of your free hand along his hair, he finally drops out the words stuck on his throat:
“Choose me.” Not ‘stay’, not ‘don’t leave’, not ‘don’t go back’, but ‘choose me’. Even if you’re in another universe, even if we don’t see each other in months or years, even if we shouldn’t, choose me. “You’re free to leave, I would never ask you otherwise. But come back to me every time you do, please.”
“Miguel…”
“I know what I’m asking, but I promise I would never interfere with your duties in this organization nor anything in that matter. So choose to keep me by your side. So I… Fuck.” He buries his head even more, till the point his words are muffled by the t-shirt you’re wearing. “I might not survive. If… If you go. Y’know?” He says and you can tell how red his face probably is even without seeing it. “It won’t end well for me if you never come back from home.”
“Mhm…” You hum. “I see that that talk we had about opening to your feelings wasn’t in vain. You’re really putting on on practice…”
“Oh, c’mon.” He groans, turning around and trying to get up from his position, but your arms are quicker when you wrap around him, laughing out loud at his face.
“Come here, I’m kidding.” You smile, giving him a soft kiss on his forehead. Your hands start to draw figures on his back, with such tenderness he doesn’t have the strength to try to back up again. You take his chin and, after a few attempts, he finally gives in and looks at you. “This is home, Miguel.”
His eyes slightly widen at your words and his hands fight to cling to your body again, to bring your against him. Because it’s just never enough.
“Any love I have showed you, any love I show and give you from now on, is yours to keep.” You sigh. “I will not turn away, no matter how ugly things get. I will always find my way back to you.”
Miguel didn’t answered, three words were still dripping from his tongue, but what he felt for you was higher than what his voice could express, so he fell silent and took your face with his right hand and asked for permission with his eyes before kissing your smile. His lips against yours felt heavy and soft, you can feel his fear to hurt you in his careful movements, but you open your mouth, letting those three words slide in with his tongue brushing against yours like the sea crashes on the shore.
He drops his head to your neck, pushing with his thumb your jaw up, opening space for him to kiss and lick up in straight lines with his tongue. You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling him press against you. You haven’t taken this step yet, your intimacy grew from long nights talking and soft brushes of skin caressing skin, from mornings waking up beside each other, from the urgency to run to each other's arms, to hear your voice, to have his arms secured around you.
Miguel refused to take it any further because he thought, months ago, watching you sleeping curled against his chest, that if he tasted you whole, there wouldn’t be no turning back. It would be his perdition.
But now he realizes that even without doing that, his life would never go back to the same as it was before you appeared in front of him for the very first time. He doesn’t want it to be like that ever again. He knows, that from the moment he saw you, maybe even before that, one part of his soul tangled around you, and has refused to let go ever since. It belongs to her now. It had belonged to her since she was born. To be hers, to be his.
Maybe, he thinks as he takes both of your wrists above your head with one hand while the other caresses deeply on your hips as his fangs tease above your skin alongside his tongue and hot breath, it is time to go all the way in.
The best part is the story behind it.
After Edgar Wright stormed off the project, this movie almost got canceled. It took Peyton Reed literally finishing it with his crew in a single year, and Paul Rudd contributing on the writing to get it done within the deadline. And apparently, because they had to rush production ON a reduced budget no less, the effects weren’t even close to done by the time they had to put out Trailers and TV spots, and most of what was finished, or near done, had to be used in the theatrical spots. So Rudd and Douglas here supposedly came up with this idea, on the spot, as it would at least get people talking and avoid reusing too many of the same shots.
fun fact a few months ago I showed this video to my 4 y/o brother and to this day he asks me to play the song (glitter and gold) because he is convinced it is “The Avengers Song™”
Pairing's : fem! reader x peter parker, tony stark daughter! x tony stark, tony stark daughter! x peter parker
Warnings: really sad angst, jealousy, daddy issues, neglect, lmk if i missed anything! :)
Summary: dad of the year award? surely isn't going too him
a/n : I know the gif doesn't really match the theme of this story I just really liked it. I did not reread this so please ignore any grammar mistakes. Also, I'm not sure if i wrote a panic attack correctly but I wrote based on what their like for me. hope you all enjoy!
you really tried not to become the forgotten child, always tried you're very hardest to live up to your father expectations, trying to make him proud in hope's he'd show some form of attention.
always studying to get straight a's even through countless anxiety attacks from fear of failing and disappointing your father.
all you ever wanted was reassurance, and if you ever got lucky enough a "You did a good job" after getting a high score on a test.
but it never came, it would forever be something you longed to hear. he would usually just mumble a small, quiet "congrats" as his mind stayed focused on his work and his eyes stuck to the blueprint laid out on the table Infront of him.
you always tried you're best not to feel jealous whenever your father held morgan, you had no ressentiment towards morgan whatsoever, in fact she was the one that kept you smiling most days. although you couldn't help but feel your heart tighten from jealousy as you watched them have daddy daughter time
you really did try you're best to be happy for your younger sister, but you couldn't ignore that aching feeling. all you wanted was the attention she had that your heart ached so desperately for, but it never came despite your countless attempts.
you we're astound to hear a new avenger had been recruited, you always enjoyed meeting new people. mainly because they gave you attention they didn't even know you craved.
you always seeked to see the best in people, no matter what the circumstances we're. including peter parker, there was nothing wrong with him, he wasn't a bad person in fact quite a good one, and if you weren't so envious of him you possibly could have been friends with the boy. but you watched how peter and your father clicked so easily becoming like father and son.
it made the knots in your stomach tighten as you watched them spend time together, it made you feel as if something was wrong with you, like maybe if you tried harder or changed, he'd give you the attention you deserved.
your mother, pepper always said he loved you just as much as he loved morgan or even peter, but you knew the truth as much as you ignored it you knew. but oh, how you wish he did.
"Mom, I'm home" you called out knowing if father was home, he wouldn't answer you. after not receiving an answer, you decided to look through the house in search of your mother, after a couple of minutes searching you still hadn't found her and decided she probably went out and took morgan with her. you heard talking but it sounded like your father, and peter?? "what's peter doing here?" you wondered. you decided to peak you're head through the door and saw peter and tony standing with their backs faced away from you, working on some upgrades for peter's suit.
"you're a pretty great kid peter" tony told him as he smiled at him patting his shoulder. a wave of jealously hit your chest as you watched them, your throat tightening. "Thank you, Mr. stark," peter smiled cheekily as your fingers clenched into a fist at your side.
"Becoming like my son."
once those words left Tony's lips, your mouth went dry, your head aching as you backed away from the door as quietly as possible, you're breathing picking up rapidly. you quickly made your way to your room, tears forming in your eyes, you walked into your room and shut the door softly as your hands started shaking as you paced around your room quickly, trying to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you never liked crying, it made you feel weak.
you're breathing came out in heavy gasp as you struggled to breathe. you leaned against the wall coughing as you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop the words from replaying in your mind.
"Becoming like my son" continuously echoed through your head as soft sobs left your lips, you didn't want to feel this way, envious of what your father and peter had. it's not peter's fault about what your father feels about you so why hold him accountable. he'll never love you, at least not like he loves peter. you can't figure out why? you always tried you're best to impress him, but nothing seemed to be enough for him, it's like he didn't even care about your existence.
you stumbled over to your bed, taking deep breathes as your body grew exhausted from crying. you plopped down on your bed tiredly as you snuggled up against your blanket that was where your pillows we're supposed to be, you grabbed a pillow and hugged it too sleep.
you didn't want to put the blame on peter because it wasn't his fault, but a little piece of your heart blamed peter parker.
a/n: CLIFFHANGER!?!? I decided to leave it for now because I haven't come up with an ending that I thought fit the way I wanted so if you guys have ideas, please let me know. reblog's are highly appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
