ostavil | open post

"Then we have a legal attachment and I let 'em all know we've been dating this whole time and we'll make it a little mess. Look, Natasha, just because we're married doesn't mean you gotta be with me. I mean, I'd like it if you weren't out there openly cheating on me because I don't want the press but being married doesn't mean being married if that makes sense. Do I want a real marriage? Hell yeah I do. But I understand that it's probably not gonna be one."

He has to be realistic about this even if he wants to shout to the moon that he's gonna get married to Natasha.

"I'll go ask for the ring later on, say we've been secretly dating, the whole deal. We'll do a small little thing and invite barely no one and it'll be fine. Smallest mess possible. I've got this, okay? Don't worry about a thing."

A week later, after two months of relative freedom, Natasha once more moved back to Malibu, this time under the aegis as the fiancée of Bucky Barnes. Granted, nothing was quite yet official; he had yet to actually propose to her, for the sake of his family and the millions of fans across the globe, but it was necessary. Because her child was going to need legitimacy, and proper backing, and to be honest, Natasha was terrified.

The idea of being a single mother, raising a child alone, had never once, before now, crossed her mind. She didn't know how to be a parent! She didn't even know if she possessed any maternal instincts! But she knew she possessed hormones, because that, and a chaser of very good champagne, had landed her in this predicament in the first place.

Bucky had planned another family gathering this weekend, for the purpose of announcing their upcoming "plans" and the new member due to arrive in about six to seven months, but Natasha was nearly a nervous wreck. She knew she looked good; pregnancy agreed with her, according to her too-happy physician. But she felt tired all of the time, felt as if she weighed as much as an elephant, and having to put on a happy, loving façade was going to be so damned difficult.

But she was a professional, thus the soft smile as she descended the stairs to the kitchen, where her "intended" was bustling about in that silly apron, actually humming as he went along.

"Hey Natasha," Bucky says. He wants to pet name her but he thinks that's probably a bad idea since it's not a real relationship. Still, she's going to get a real proposal because she deserves that. She more than deserves that.

"So can you go out on the patio and see if Brooklyn's out there? I don't want him getting all sandy."

Out on his beautiful patio was a scattering of rose petals and written in the sand, well clear of the incoming tide, was "WILL YOU MARRY ME?" in neat block letters. The ring is in his pocket, though, and he's planning on proposing before everyone gets over at the house.

Obligingly crossing to the patio doors, Natasha stepped out of the house and nearly swallowed her tongue at the sight that greeted her. The rose petals quivered in the soft ocean breeze, and the message left nothing to the imagination. It was touching, though, and a soft smile graced her lips as she turned to step back inside.

"I didn't see him," she reported on the pup. "He may be upstairs, still. He was lying on your bed, watching TV the last time I saw him." The dog that loved Animal Planet. Natasha slid on a stool on the opposite side of the island, resting her elbows on the cool marble.

"I love the roses," she smiled. "And that's an ingenious way of asking that particular question." She managed a light chuckle. "Want me to answer now, or when your folks get here?"

"Now," Bucky says softly. "I know we're not getting a lot of choice in this but I think those things should be private. If...well, if I was getting to do it for real, this is how I would have done it. I've got the ring in my pocket right now."

Bucky's holding a pan and spatula and he puts both of them down to wash and dry his hands before pulling out the tiny little box. It's an antique ring, the one his grandfather had bought for his grandmother, and he hopes that Natasha likes it.

"It's my grandmother's," he says, pulling out the little ruby ring to put on her finger. "If you wanna say yes, it's all yours."

In her heart of hearts, this was not how Natasha had ever envisioned such a moment, but her heart caught in her throat just the same, watching Bucky produce that tiny jewelry box. The ring was exquisitely lovely, a simple golden band with a small twinkling ruby atop it, shining in the cool light. Right hand pressed to her throat, she could only nod mutely in answer, not for the first time wondering just how she'd ended up in this circumstance.

She knew the answer, of course, but it was still sometimes hard to believe.

Seeing it on her finger, perfectly fitted as if made for it, brought silent tears to her eyes. Natasha stared at the band on her hand, trying to keep her bottom lip from trembling. "...it's beautiful," she finally said, not really knowing what else to way.

A rattle from the doorway saved her, as well as the commotion from Bucky's younger sister and Steve Rogers, just arriving. Natasha hurriedly wiped her eyes and her nose, trying to appear as if nothing titanic had just taken place.

"Just let 'em notice," Bucky whispers before greeting his sister and Steve loudly. Steve had brought Dodger, too, whose barks had drawn Brooklyn down from the bedroom and they started running around one another in happy circles. Becca asks if there's anything she can help with and her eyes fall on Natasha's hand.

"Oh. My. God. Oh God. BUCKY! Oh my God, Bucky, you asked and she said YES."

To Natasha, she goes and grabs her hands and squeezes them. "We're gonna be sisters. This is amazing. Oh my God. I can't believe he asked. You've gotta tell me how he did it."

Natasha had resolved to do exactly that, but she was woefully unprepared for the youngest Barnes' reaction. Becca's squeals nearly shook the roof, and Natasha almost flinched away from the unbridled exuberance. Steve, catching on, laughed heartily and clapped his best friend's back after a massive hug of congratulations, while Becca chattered like a magpie, with a flustered Natasha only getting a few words in here and there.

The patio was the prime target, and Becca squealed again, seeing Bucky's handiwork there in the sand. She flew back into the kitchen to pounce her brother, leaving a relieved Natasha to catch a quick breath outside, only to look up and see Steve advancing on her, arms held wide.

"Congratulations, Natasha," he told her, engulfing her in a huge hug. "Welcome to the family. You're gonna love it, trust me." His smile, wide and bright, was infectious, and Natasha did her best to return it, even as the rest of the "clan" began to file into the house, too.

By the time Bucky's mother got there, word had spread around that he'd proposed and suddenly the food, the dogs, Bucky and his guitar, and everything else was of no interest but Natasha's left hand commanded the whole crowd. Everyone was astonished that he'd used the family ring except Bucky's mother who looked just a bit smug.

"I gave it to him yesterday," she says, pleased to know that he'd gone on and asked and she hadn't had to keep the secret. Seeing Bucky's apron, she smacks a kiss on his left cheek and Becca leaves a perfect lipstick print on his right before giving Natasha a knowing look.

"C'mon, Natasha. You've got to Kiss the Cook too."

Turning into a marble statue got her through the "Barnes Air Raid", as Bucky had chucklingly coined it, but Natasha paled when Becca insisted that she, too, grant the Cook a Kiss. But it was expected, wasn't it; she was his fiancé now. Bought and bonded. That thought soured her entirely, but Natasha swallowed it, and nodded silently.

Then stepped over to her soon-to-be husband, put her arms around his neck, closed her eyes, and lightly pressed her lips to his, closed and innocent. If they were going to pull this off, they were going to have to make it look good. Believable. Sincere.

"Thanks, babe. Now let me go so I can feed all these people, huh?" Bucky's pretty damn good at smiling where Natasha's concerned so it's no trouble to flash her a brilliant one while she's still close to him. The excuse of the food keeps him away from her for a while and his sisters are all over her. Great.

Once everything is laid out, though, it's time to eat and he can draw Natasha away from the rest of the crowd. They can deal with it. Fiancees often talk by themselves, right?

"I told you they'd be awful," Bucky says, sighing a little. "So I'm really sorry for the uh...enthusiasm."

She smiled appropriately, laughed when necessary, and answered all questions as much as she could, which...wasn't, really, because she honestly had no idea about wedding colors, honeymoon destinations, bridesmaids, vows, reception dinners...any of that.

When the crowd broke up to help cart the food out to the patio, Natasha found herself briefly tugged away, leaving her and James alone in the kitchen for a short moment. He apologized, but she shook her head, shrugging lightly.

"It's all right. I more or less expected it, knowing how boisterous your relatives are. It's fine, James." She picked up the large bowl of Winnie's potato salad and smiled, again. It felt frozen on her lips. "Bring the dinner rolls, will you?"

Bucky gets the dinner rolls and draws up as close as he can, pressing his lips up against her ear so they're not overheard and that they look as natural as possible while talking. It kills two birds with one stone considering they look like a couple in love if they're whispering back and forth.

"I'm still sorry," he murmurs. "And I'll make it up to you later. I don't know how I'll do it, but I'll do it, and you'll be a lot happier than you are right now."

He has this entire afternoon to come up with something.

His proximity made her shiver, because she could smell him, clean and delicious in her nose. Natasha ducked her head and blushed, well used to this charade. "Don't worry about me, James," she told him sotto voce. "It's fine," again she said. "But...when do you want to tell them about...this?" She gestured to her abdomen with the bowl.

"Might as well get it all out in the open, right? Since everyone's already so happy, it can't hurt. Maybe, during dessert?" When there would be chocolate mouse and chocolate martinis, dry for her, alas. "Your sister will have the whales out off the shelf singing along."

"The sooner the better," he agrees. Food goes as planned, at least, and when the desserts and cocktails go out, Bucky taps at the edge of his martini glass with a plastic knife and it clinks just a little bit. Maybe it's not the classiest it could be but it is definitely better than just yelling it out.

"So, Natasha and I have some news. We're...well, I'm not but she's pregnant. There's gonna be a new Barnes in a couple months. She's having a touchy stomach right now, though, so don't go trampling her. Nice handshakes are fine, right Natasha?"

Becca squeals, a high-pitched noise that sets the dogs to howling and everyone else looks thrilled to death.

The news of her pregnancy had the predicted affect: everyone went berserk with glee and congratulations, and Natasha held up for as long as she could, but it wasn't too long after sunset that she pleaded exhaustion and headed upstairs for some much needed peace and quiet. Her stomach was again unsettled, and she placed a hand over her abdomen, glowering down at it before heading into the en suite bathroom for some Tums.

She'd taken residence in one of the guest rooms, as she desperately needed the space away from Bucky Barnes' good-sense jamming field, but she still felt like a visitor in a hotel. And, lying down atop the covers, her shoes still on, Natasha realized, fully for the first time, that she was right back in the same predicament she'd been with Alex. Only, this time, there was a third person who was going to be so important to that relationship, she couldn't even fathom how much.

But, she was resigned to it now; the baby was well on its way, all healthy and active, according to her obstetrician, even though Natasha simply couldn't muster the same enthusiasm as her medical professionals. Her belly was still mostly flat, though her hips had gotten a little wider, but it was her breasts that sometimes ached miserably. They were heavy, weighing her down no matter how tight she fastened her bra. She could definitely find a new respect for large-busted women, now.

Gingerly rolling over to her back, she winced as she cupped the heavy mounds, then ran one hand flat over her stomach, not at all surprised to feel the tiniest rise around her midriff. Yep. Right on schedule. Baby Barnes was nothing of not punctual.

Natasha had escaped back into the house long ago and once Bucky is able to get rid of everyone he heads back inside to do the clean up. It takes him a little while with all the things to go into the fridge and all the serving trays to wash but once he's done, he hangs the apron up and heads upstairs. He peeks into the guest room before going to his own.

"Hey, how you holdin' up? I'm not having another one of those for a while," he promises. "Too overwhelming to have that many people swarming over you anyway. You need anything? I can go get it so you don't have to get up."

This is half his child, after all, and he wants to take care of Natasha for more reasons than her being pregnant by him.

Her eyes opened when she heard Bucky's voice at the door, and Natasha blinked at him. She'd been dozing, and stifled a little yawn. "Is everyone gone? I was going to come down and help you clean up..." But she gave a little groan when she tried to sit up, and flopped back against the pillows.

"Urrg, I ache. God. I hurt all over, and I have no idea why. I haven't run a marathon, last I checked. But it feels like I did." One arm slung over her eyes, Natasha groaned again, feeling so heavy and disgusting.

"Is there any ibuprofen? Or some Tylenol?" Her doctor had told her to be sparse with the pain meds, but if she really needed something, to take it. She'd also recommended lots of hot baths for the aches, soaks in Epsom salts, and even a few massages here and there.

"...and my feet hurt too, weirdly enough."

"What about Tylenol and a foot rub? I've found myself with an abundance of time now that I've kicked everyone out of my house for the night," Bucky says, dangling it in front of her. Maybe Natasha doesn't love him and maybe she never will but he loves this baby and he loves her and part of taking care of the baby is taking care of her. So he'll offer it and see if she accepts it.

He goes to get a glass of water and the Tylenol and just in case she accepts the foot rub, a minty lotion he likes for himself whenever he's feeling his age.

"Tylenol and water for the lady," he says, putting them on the bedside table. "And foot massage offer still open."

Edited 2022-01-31 03:03 (UTC)

"That sounds...great, actually." What was the harm in letting him rub her feet? She wouldn't have to do it. She took the pills and water gratefully, swallowing them and half of the water in a few gulps. Then Natasha fell again to her back, kicking off her Keds and wiggling her toes in their thin socks.

"Feel free, Mr. Barnes. I might lie here and go right to sleep, but you just keep on, sir. I'll thank you for it...mmm, tomorrow, probably." Her comfy yoga pants had flared ends, so she pulled both legs upwards to bare her calves, too. Just to give him enough room, of course.

"You don't gotta be formal with me," Bucky says. He figures they're well past formal, considering they're gonna have a kid together and get married. Still, he tugs off her socks and lays them to the side before squeezing out a little lotion and warming it between his hands before touching her.

"Someone gave me this as a present and I hardly ever use it except after a long concert because my hands cramp up, you know? Never used it on anyone else so you've gotta tell me how it feels. Come to think - I've never given anyone a foot massage either."

The initial touch tickled a little, and Natasha's feet wiggled slightly, but it didn't take her long to exhale a long, deep sigh, relax into the pillows, and let him work. The lotion smelled wonderful; a little minty, a little tangy, and it was warm from the heat of Bucky's hands, but it tingled as it soaked into her skin. Truly wonderful.

"...feels good," Natasha murmured, head turned aside and long red curls splayed out on the covers beneath her. Bucky's hands were rough, but gentle, kneading her sore arches just the right way. A little low moan escaped, lashes closed over green eyes. "I'll give you three hours to stop, all right?"

"Three hours, huh? That's being generous, babe," Bucky says, pressing his thumbs against the arch of one small foot in a way that he thinks might feel nice to her. Every part of Natasha is beautiful, that's just a fact, but there's something intimate about doing something so far from sexual.

"What if my foot massages take three and a half hours, huh? You gonna kick me out of here if I go over? Because really, that extra half hour might be the part that's the best."

The press of his thumbs made her breath catch and her toes curl, but God, it felt so good! Both feet to her ankles tingled very pleasantly, and Natasha chuckled on the exhale, smiling softly. "I'd never do that," she gently admonished. "You can go as long as you want, James."

Too late did she realize the subtle innuendo in her response, but opted to just let it slide. This wasn't anything overly sexual, but it was nicely intimate, and the gentle camaraderie was what Natasha had actually been craving. Alex had never done anything like this for her. Not even at the end of her longest days, or her hardest days, had he taken the initiative to pamper her, not even a little.

She opened one eye and glanced down at him, at the foot of the bed, her feet in his hands. "...thank you, by the way, for doing this."

"You don't gotta thank me for stuff I wanna do anyway," Bucky says, waving that off. "Just because you don't wanna...be with me doesn't mean I don't care about you. I wanna take care of you as much as I can."

And, honestly, is the truth. It's not even a sexual thing, wanting to take care of her, and he's glad she's letting him do it.

"You deserve to feel good."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject