aly // 19 // nyc
marvel, bands, netflix, musicals.
p in love w/ chris evans
so come what may
i know the way
I AM MOANAAAAAAA
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too much
my motivation is 0%!!!!!! im never here tbh follow my puddles
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Stop pining, schoolboy. I have a job to do, and romance is not on the docket.
(Woo finished it before BuckyNat week is officially over! I really hope you like it! Also peep that Princess Bride reference yo.)
“Alright, Nat, whenever you’re ready.”
“On my way.” Her reply crackles through his earpiece.
The mission had been overall a success, now it was just a matter of getting James out of there alive. His heavy footfalls echo through the corridors of the old building, but he knows they won’t be empty for very much longer. The thing about A.I.M. goons is that what they lack in intelligence and strength, they make up for in numbers. It was like kicking a beehive, only a matter of time before the angry buggers started to swarm out of their hiding spots.
The door ahead of him was locked, but that usually didn’t prove to be too much of a deterrent. Sometimes the bionic arm was useful. His first thought is to yank the damn door off its hinges, but he decides against it and just busts the knob off instead.
“C'mon slowpoke, waiting on you!” Natasha peers up at him from the street below, the engine of the little red convertible still running.
He hadn’t exactly intended to have to jump from a third-floor balcony but being as there were a dozen idiots with a lot of firepower closing in on him pretty quickly, he didn’t see that he had a whole lot of other options. He takes his leap, mumbling profanity under his breath and somehow managing to not destroy the car when he lands.
“Graceful,” Natasha says. She flashes him that smirk he knows so well.
James hops over the door of the top-down vehicle into the passenger’s seat. Natasha doesn’t need any kind of confirmation from him before she lays on the gas and they peel off down the road. Her hair flies up behind her in the wind and James puts his arm around the driver’s seat.
The ride is silent until they know they’re not being followed anymore. Natasha pulls the car over carefully into the vacant gravel of a parking lot long abandoned.
She turns to face him, study his expression in the dim light of the fading sunset. There is a small gash, she notices, just above his cheek. Must have been grazed by a stray bullet while taking out the initial guards or something, she wasn’t sure. She brings the pad of her thumb up to brush underneath the wound gently. James reaches up to place his metal hand over the soft flesh of hers.
Her lips quirk up. “You should be more careful next time.” A soft chuckle rumbles through James as he shakes his head a little.
Before she can blink, the warmth of his right hand is tangled in the back of her hair and his face is just inches from hers, so close she can feel the warmth of his breath down the front of her neck. His eyes are dark, filled with something Natasha realizes she never wants to lose.
An almost devious look colors across James’s features and he lowers his voice so that not a soul aside from hers can hear him. “As you wish.”
She catches a glimpse of his devilish grin and then her lips are pressing against his in a heady kiss that he matches in fervor.
A contented hum passes through her lips before they both come up for air. Natasha shoots him a half teasing, half completely serious glare as she turns the keys in the ignition and the engine rumbles to life again.
“Just wait til we get home, loverboy.”
We met in the late 1950s, back when neither she nor I knew exactly who I was… - Bucky on Natasha | (Marvel Comic Book Quotes + CACW).
“Honestly if I never had to set foot on another stupid mountain again, it’d be too soon.”
“Tell me how you really feel, James.”
Bucky grimaced against the bitter cold snap of the wind. He continued to mumble incoherent strings of what Natasha was pretty sure were curse words under his breath.
The wind, snow, cold, and heights. Just a few of Bucky’s least favorite things all piled one right on top of the other. Why had he volunteered for this assignment again?
He glanced to his right at Natasha trudging through the ankle deep snow, somehow still managing to look effervescent. Oh, yeah, that’s why. Any chance he had to work beside Natasha he took, even if it meant scaling a ridiculously large and bitterly freezing mountain to find some ancient, hidden technology for Nick Fury.
Bucky couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how pathetic his own rationalization sounded, but then he decided he really didn’t care.
“Deep in thought, James?” Natasha asked him. She arched a brow, awaiting his response.
The sound of chopper blades cutting through the air ahead of them made Natasha trail off. She shielded her eyes from the onslaught of snow, squinting at the helicopter in the distance. Gently, she nudged Bucky’s elbow with her own.
“I’ll buy you pancakes when we get home, I promise!”
His lips quirked up into the smallest of smiles. They braced themselves against the wind, picking up the pace as they neared their ride off this godforsaken mountain. The chopper door slid open and Natasha jumped inside, Bucky following and securing the door behind him.
“That wasn’t so bad now was it?” A smile bloomed on her face when they had finally taken off, and Bucky found his expression mirroring hers.
“I wouldn’t want to do anything other than waste time on random mountains with you.”
(Thank you for the prompt, friend! Hopefully this is okay and not as dumb as I think it is!)
Neither of them found these extravagant Stark shindigs to be particularly enjoyable, but they came because that was the friendly thing to do. Natasha pretended to be interested in what some important person had to say, and Bucky just tried not to be bored to tears.
They’d been there for at least two hours by now and Bucky wasn’t sure how much longer he could stand it. His knee bounced in ever-increasing agitation but he still smiled politely at everyone that passed his table in the corner. He thought he’d lost track of Nat a while back until he spotted a streak of red out of the corner of his eye. His gaze met hers for just a second but that was all it took for her to read him.
“Well you look about as miserable as I’d imagined,” she said after she’d made her way over to sit beside him with a smirk.
Bucky groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face. “You know I can’t stand this hoity-toity crap.” He studied her for a moment. They were both pretty dressed up for a cocktail party, but that was more or less the protocol for one of Tony’s shindigs. Natasha’s hair cascaded in small ringlets down the open back of her black dress. Her hands gripped a small matching black clutch that he knew had at least one handgun inside of it. Suddenly, he decided he really didn’t want to be here another minute longer.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said. Natasha quirked an eyebrow at him, but she could tell he was being completely serious. Bucky rose from his seat, hastily pushing the chair back under the table before reaching for Natasha’s hand.
Her eyes flickered quickly from his hand to his face, studying the way his ridged expression had suddenly melted into a bit of a devious one. “We can’t just leave, James. That would be rude…”
She trailed off, catching her bottom lip with her teeth and desperately trying to mask the humor in her own voice.
Bucky’s jaw went slack, mouth hanging open like some kind of fool. “Wha- Nat! C’mon,” he whined.
That elicited a snort from Natasha who knew she wouldn’t be able to keep up with the façade too much longer. “Can’t,” she said and folded her arms over one another.
Bucky gave her an exasperated sigh. “I’m not leaving without you, so, please. Just. Say. Yes.”
Her curls bounced slightly when she shook her head and finally laced her fingers through the spaces of his own warm hand.
“You’re lucky I love you, idiot.”
send all ur prompts over to @buckyno !!! she’s taking any and all ideas so don’t be shy!!
There was a saying among the Red Room. That the one time the Black Widow failed, the Winter Soldier went after her. They would whisper to each other ‘if Fall ends, Winter is coming’.
There are few personal things Natasha possesses. There is the arrow necklace, a token to remind her of Clint. There is a burner phone she can’t bring herself to throw away because it connects her to Steve. The black belt with the red hourglass, a practical gift from Maria. The first gun Fury had permitted her.
The Black Widow is not sentimental, can’t allow herself to be. Yet… but yet… no matter what cover she takes, she insists on keeping her hair a shade of red. A dangerous habit for a spy to keep, and one she can’t always adhere to, but. Whenever it is possible, her hair is red.
Like autumn.
Like fall.
So that Winter may find her.
