#Exasperated!Rhodey

[airas-story]

https://www.tumblr.com/airas-story/752672567688577024/tony-accidentally-picks-up-the-coat-of-selkie

Could we get a continuation, please?

Oh, wow. I once had a whole vision for this world, but that was a long time ago. Think this went a slightly different direction. But sequel to part one and two.

“Rhodey, this is Stephen,” he gestured to Stephen where he’d linked their elbows together in obvious claim. “My—”

“Future husband,” Stephen finished for him. 

Tony sent him an exasperated look. That was not how he’d wanted to introduce Stephen to Rhodey.

Stephen smirked back at him, little glints of pleasure in his eyes that Tony could never quite resist. Sometimes Tony wondered if Stephen was less selkie and more siren. Tony’s inability to resist him felt like evidence.

Rhodey looked baffled. “Tony hadn’t mentioned he was dating anyone,” he said. “You’re engaged?” He gave Tony a ‘what the hell?’ look, obvious demand for why Tony hadn’t mentioned it.

Given they weren’t engaged, Tony had had nothing to tell.

Stephen smiled, all charm and composure. “Oh, we’re getting there. I’m waiting for Tony to be ready.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Stephen’s exaggerating. We’re not—”

“I tried to marry you the first time we met,” Stephen interrupted.

“That was an accident,” Tony told him. Stephen had dropped his coat!

“That’s what you think,” Stephen retorted. “But, ironically, your refusal to marry me guaranteed this. I might have married you and then you’d have been murdered—”

“You wouldn’t,” Tony countered. “Too pacifistic.”

“—by my far less pacifistic friends.”

Tony paused to consider that, before acknowledging that Wong and the selkie herd leader, the Ancient One, would absolutely have killed Tony if they’d thought Tony had taken Stephen against his will.

As it was, Tony suspected they were mildly bemused that Stephen had chosen Tony. They were more or less supportive of Stephen’s choice, though.

“What!?” Rhodey asked, clearly confused.

Tony just sighed. “It’s complicated.” He wouldn’t expose Stephen as a selkie, and without that piece of information a lot of their relationship seemed… weird.

It was Tony, though, Rhodey was used to weird.

[irondadfics]

What's your favorite 5+1 fics?

Here’s a few of my personal favorites. ❤️

Five Times Peter Parker Pretended to Be Asleep by blondsak

...and the one time he actually was. Or: sometimes, faking sleep can work to your advantage. When it comes to trying to fool a certain genius, overprotective, superhero mentor, Peter finds this to be doubly true.

5 times Peter is stuck with Tony by iron_spider

(...and one time he’s stuck alone.) “I wonder if Pepper’s reported me missing yet,” Tony says, with an exaggerated sigh. “I wonder if this is some kind of scheme to kidnap me or something.” “I think the ride’s just broken,” Peter says.  “Today of all goddamn days,” Tony says, exasperation clear in his voice and in his eyes. “Ruining our trip—” “It’s not ruined,” Peter says. “Look, we’re hanging out." “Real quality time,” Tony huffs. “Us, a few other trapped members of the general public, and a handful of animatronic pirates. Drunk pirates. Repeating themselves.” (Infinity War spoilers!)

Five Times Tony Stark Got to be a Normal Dad by CaptainStarSong

... and one time Peter acts like a normal son.  Peter Parker hasn't had a father figure in his life since the untimely death of his Uncle Ben. Tony Stark never gets to act like a normal person, on account of him being a genius, billionaire, and former playboy philanthropist. But, for Peter, he's willing to do anything, especially if he gets to be the kid's surrogate dad.

identity reveal by killerqueenwrites 

(You’ll need an account to read this one.)

The first time Rhodey meets Peter Parker, it’s barely six months after the whole shitshow in Germany and he’s checking in to make sure Tony isn’t drunk off his ass or loopy with caffeine and sleep deprivation again. The second time he meets Peter Parker, the kid’s cooking in Tony’s kitchen like he’s been there his whole life. The third time he meets Peter Parker, he’s bleeding out on Tony’s couch, and that’s not even the weirdest thing about this kid. Or, five times Rhodey doesn’t figure out Spider-Man’s identity and one time he does.

5 Times Peter Fell, and Tony caught him. And the 1 Time Tony didn’t. by eva7673

Peter has a nasty habit of falling. And Tony, bless him, will catch him every single time. Until the day he can't.

5 Times Peter Cracks a Joke in the Face of Death by polaroid15

...and one time Tony beats him to it.  Or, Peter’s been working on his jokes. Tony’s been working on keeping his kid alive to see his 18th birthday.

You caught me at just the right time (until you couldn't) by 14million_constellations

“I thought Spider-Man didn’t get sick,” Tony said, smiling.  “And I thought Tony Stark didn’t care,” Peter says, now not only looking like death but sounding like it, and Tony frowned. Peter noticed. “Sorry. You do care. I know you do. --or-- The 5 times Tony realized Peter was sick, and the 1 time it was almost too late.

[nostalgicatsea]

Little thing I worked on for @lightsonparkave round 58, inspired by this prompt. Every time I think of those two scenes in Fellow Travelers, my heart aches because Hawk and Tim didn't have many places outside where they could be together; Hawk is a careful man, but he let whimsy and romance take a hold of him and he took a photo of Tim; and Tim still had that photo decades later, years after he cut Hawk out of his life, angry, hurt, and fed up with him.

I thought of Steve pining away for Tony during the years after the Snap, not knowing that Tony's anger had died down, that he still cared about Steve after everything.

—

They decline to stay. They had dropped in without notice, and it would be bad manners to impose further. Maybe not to Tony, who seemed to want them to stay, genuinely, but to his family. To a daughter who's her father's miniature, who looks at Steve, Natasha, and Scott with curiosity and a little imperiousness because they're not entirely welcome strangers to this land, to her kingdom. To Pepper, not present but close by, waiting for them to leave. Her absence is a solid presence on its own, impossible to ignore. There's no need for her to make an appearance when absence says everything there is to say. The dismissal and disapproval are dense enough that Steve can almost outline the shape of her, standing still in the depths of the house.

Steve looks to the window even if the last thing he wants is to catch a glimpse of Pepper. His heart spikes even if he sees nothing, not even a flash of gold hair, just a kitchen island with a big bowl of salad set on it, shelves of tableware, and photos of the haven Tony built for himself in this blighted world decorating the side of a cabinet. Tony and Pepper and their daughter, more photos of their daughter as she grew from a baby to a toddler to a kindergartener, some photos of Happy and Rhodey, of people he doesn't recognize.

Of Tony on the beach facing away from the camera but turning back like someone called his name, looking at them with fond exasperation and uncharacteristic shyness.

Looking at Steve.

Steve's heart lurches again, this time with happiness, with sickening, confusing recognition.

[infiniteeight8]

I liked this one so much, I'd love anything from before or after this part about Stephen having lost magic but still having something to look forward to: https://www.tumblr.com/infiniteeight8/781677587770605568/hello-i-have-returned-with-a-different-prompt

It’s rare that I write out of chronological order, but this time the idea that came to me was a prequel, so here we go!

I did about ten seconds of research into neural interfaces, so there’s some vague and possibly wrong technobabble in here. Just roll with it.

-

The Order would never force him out, but living in the Sanctum quickly becomes more than Stephen can bear. The place is saturated in magic, and Stephen can’t touch any of it anymore. He only waits as long as he does because he’s afraid the Cloak will return to its glass case when he goes. When he finally admits that, Levi drags him out of there itself. Stephen actually laughs.

Of course, then he has to figure out where he and Levi will live. He’s not without resources—he’d had very good insurance as a neurosurgeon, even if it had taken a while to get it paid out—but something in him recoils from the idea of renting an apartment. Half a reference to the dilemma over lunch with Tony and the next thing Stephen knows he’s been cheerfully installed in a guest room. “I’ve got lots of space,” Tony says. “You can stay as long as you need while you figure things out.”

Stephen gets the distinct impression Tony is glad to have company now that Ms. Potts has moved out.

It’s just as well, because Stephen has nothing to do, so he ends up trailing after Tony like a stray puppy half the time. Which is how he ends up here, on a couch in Tony’s lab, watching as the man works on the next generation of Colonel Rhodes's leg braces. Not that Rhodes has asked for a new generation. The set he has have already made the Stark Industries name in the field of  assistive devices, but Tony is never satisfied. Not when it comes to his best friend.

Tony waves and a new hologram springs to life. It’s remarkable how intuitive he’s made the whole— Stephen frowns. “Are you reading signals from the spinal column or the peripheral nervous system?” 

“Peripheral nervous system,” Tony says, looking over at him. “Why?”

“The electrodes you’re using must pick up a lot of noise.” Stephen stands and walks over to get a better look.

“They do; we process it out after,” Tony says. “Rhodey didn’t want implants.”

Stephen makes a thoughtful noise, reaching out and manipulating the diagram. “There’s improvements to be made without implants,” he says absently. Tony certainly did his research, but he doesn’t know the nervous system like Stephen does.

Tony tilts his head. “Show me.”

Three hours later, after Levi and DUM-E herd them out of the lab to eat lunch, Tony asks, “So what’s the going rate for a neurosurgeon’s consulting fee?”

Stephen starts to protest and then catches Tony’s sly glance and has to let out an exasperated laugh. “Is there anything you won’t take it upon yourself to fix?”

“Probably not,” Tony says, grinning. “Come on, was I wrong? If that’s what you can do when you’re out of date on the literature, then imagine what you’ll have to offer once you catch up. And you obviously enjoyed it.”

“I did,” Stephen admits. He hadn’t even considered consulting, probably because he’d written the idea off so thoroughly after his accident. But now… Well, Tony didn’t build the newer armors by hand, but they were no less a work of his mind. Stephen didn’t have to hold the knife himself for his work to impact the field, and it turns out he found the intricacies of the human nervous system just as fascinating as he ever had. “How did you know?”

Tony scoffs. “Come on, that was easy. You insisted on being called Doctor even when you were entitled to being called Sorcerer Supreme. Doesn’t take a genius to see that it’s still a part of you.”

“Apparently it did take a genius,” Stephen shoots back, smiling slightly. “Since no one else thought of it.”

Tony just laughs.

[hapuchika]

Mischief & Malice - Chapter 3

Summary: The aftermath of the disaster that took place in chapter 2.

Warnings: Injuries, Ross being a dick?, that's about it.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

X--X--X--X--X

It was safe to say that Wanda was having a shitty few days. First, the supposedly easy mission went awry. Then, whoever took her and Natasha electrocuted Wanda enough that she was pretty sure she flatlined a couple of times.

A few hours later, the chaos came. She could not see or move, but she could hear the screaming and a distinctly familiar voice. A little while later, all of the pain eased, and she could rest.

When Wanda first opened her eyes, she knew she was back at the compound. Natasha was in a bed next to her, and she could feel a hand in hers.

“It’s okay, my love. You’re safe. I promise” She heard the same voice. Her body instantly relaxed at the words, sending her into another extended nap.

X—X—X—X—X

The first thing Wanda registers are hushed voices in the room.

“What do you mean you arrested them?” A husky feminine voice she instantly recognised: Natasha.

“They killed over three hundred people themselves, then proceeded to launch a small nuke at the facility. You should see the feed, Nat… That was… I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

Rhodey.

“You know exactly why they did what they did. Tell me this, War Machine. What were the Avengers doing?” Natasha spat

“We were following a lead Y/n gave us. It was practically an ambush, each attack targeted for a certain member. We barely survived the interaction.”

Wanda’s lips twitch at the realisation that you sent the Avengers on yet another goose chase. Her eyes slowly flutter open to see Natasha in the bed near her; one leg and one hand in a cast with multiple wounds on her torso.

Wanda’s attempts at trying to get up resulted in her flopping around, drawing attention to herself.

Dr. Cho practically materialises next to her, checking the witch for a concussion and such.

“How are you feeling, Wanda? Any pain anywhere?” Dr. Cho asks, using a flashlight to check for signs of a concussion after helping the witch up.

“I’m okay… Nothing really hurts. Just… sore.” Wanda rasps.

“I’m not surprised,” Dr. Cho comments dryly. “After what the both of you went through, I’m astounded neither of you is in a coma or worse. Whatever was administered to both of you not only ensured you survive but also heal as fast as physically possible. Your girlfriend here had her tibia practically crushed. Yet, within 7 hours, there are just a few fractures. I assume that by tomorrow, the two of you will be perfectly fine.”

Wanda turns to look at her girlfriend, who is nursing a PB&J sandwich. The spy simply shrugs, wincing at the movement on her broken arm.

“Where- where is y/n?” Wanda asks Rhodey.

There’s a slight commotion outside the room before you burst in, panting.

“Here! I’m here!” You say, hands on your knees trying to catch your breath.

“Need a second?” Natasha asks, amusedly.

You flash her a smirk and straighten up. You walk up to your partners, ignoring the glare James gives you as you take out your phone to make a few calls.

Wanda’s eyes widen as you go to the other side of Natasha’s bed and push, her bed sliding across the room and bumping into the witch’s.

Natasha lets out a yelp as you remove your shoes and jump onto the now-bigger bed. Sitting across them cross-legged.

Dr Cho clears her throat, looking at you with an amused exasperation. You glance at her before taking out a small vial filled with purple liquid, then toss it to her.

She raises her eyebrow as she catches it, looking at you quizzically.

“It’s what I gave Wanda and Natasha. It works with practically any illness, and yes, that includes certain. genetic mutations too.” You explain.

You give her a look. “Synthesize it and give it to your patients. Give it to anybody and everybody, I don’t care. You will not, however, sell the serum. If I find out you’re monopolising it or charging a single person for it, I will not hesitate to kill you and every person involved.”

To her credit, Dr. Cho remains unfazed and nods, pocketing the serum without a thought.

“They need bedrest, and Ms. Maximoff needs to be periodically checked. I want to make sure she doesn’t sustain any long-lasting effects from electrocution. I’m presuming you have a medical background?” She asks you authoritatively.

You nod wordlessly. “Good. I want updates every other hour. They are not to get out of bed for another day.”

Once Dr. Cho finishes, she says goodbye to the two Avengers and leaves.

Once she’s gone, you turn to your girlfriends and lay down in Wanda’s lap. The witch automatically begins to give you head scratches, causing you to let out a satisfied hum.

Five peaceful minutes later, you groan, getting off the bed despite the witch’s protests.

Your reason becomes clear when secretary Ross, James Rhodey, Steve Rogers, and two unknown agents walk into the room.

Steve makes his way to Wanda and Natasha, smiling at the way the spy was cuddling into the witch.

You lazily sit in the chair on the other side of the room, looking at your nails and ignoring the people staring at you.

Ross clears his throat; you look at him innocently.

“Can I help you?” You ask.

“You’re under arrest,” Ross states.

You gasp, covering your mouth with a hand.

“On what grounds, Mr. Ross?” You ask innocently.

“It’s secretary Ross. And how about the hundreds of murder charges? Or using a weapon of mass destruction on a facility in a country the US is allies with? Those ring a bell?”

You tap a finger on your chin as if pondering Ross’s statement.

Rhodey scoffs, “Don’t play dumb, y/n. It doesn’t suit you. You quite literally sent the video of you slaughtering hundreds of civilian & veteran contractors to the President’s personal email and phone number.”

You frown. “I also sent it to your Chief of Security and several other authorities worldwide.”

Rhodey stiffens. “Why?” He asks.

All the innocence and amusement fade from you. You stand up, glaring at Ross. The agents behind him train their guns at you.

“Because,” you state cooly, the anger returning in your eyes. “That was a message to everyone. That Wanda and Natasha are under my protection. Any attempt to extort or even so much as breathe in their direction will result in what all of you saw.”

“They’re not exactly damsels in distress.” One of the agents behind Ross's comments.

You turn your gaze to him. “You’re absolutely right about that… Charlie.”

The agent stiffens. “How-“

“They do not need protection, not from the likes of you, anyway. But you see… Deep down, Wanda and Natasha are good people; I’m not.”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Steve intervenes; he almost rests a hand on your shoulder before hesitating and letting it fall to his side.

Your eyes dart to the super-soldier before moving to your girlfriends. Natasha gives you a warning look: ‘Do not make this worse.’

You sigh and plop back onto the sofa.

“Just give me your deal, and let’s get this over with.” You say in a bored tone.

“As much as I’d like to throw you in a cell and let it sink to the bottom of the ocean. The President has lessened your sentence. You are not to leave the Avenger’s compound for the next six months. You are to be under observation by any avenger at all times.”

You scoff, “house arrest? Really?”

Ross glares at you. “It’s this or prison time.”

You sigh and relent. “Fine.”

Ross nods and turns around to leave, but not before saying, “Oh and y/n? You might want to lay low for a while. Maybe thank the president for his leniency.”

You roll your eyes and give him a sarcastic thumbs up.

Six months… What the fuck were you going to do in one place for six months?

X—X—X—X—X

Barely a day in, and you are losing your mind. Your girlfriends try to entertain you as much as possible, but you can see it in their eyes that they want to see the footage.

You’re not ready for that… Not yet.

While they rest, you tell them stories across the universe. You tell them what their friends are up to in other parts of the galaxy, and you regale them with stories that have been long forgotten.

As soon as the sun sets, Natasha announces that all the pain from her arm and leg has faded away. You agree, noting that her injuries have been healed. You also reassured her that any scars she received at the facility had faded into nothingness.

It takes Wanda a few more hours before she is completely healed. Dr. Cho returns to conduct final checks before she considers them fit for discharge.

The three of you walk to Natasha’s room. On your way there, you note that the rest of the Avengers are giving you a wide birth.

Good. That’s how it should be.

When crossing the lounge, your eyes meet Clint's; he holds your gaze and raises his beer in salute.

It had taken a lot of convincing to get him to return the bow. It was almost comical, the way he pouted throughout the trip back to the compound.

You enter the room and almost immediately flop down onto the bed, every muscle in your body hurting. Turns out that fighting hundreds of trained soldiers really drains a person.

You let out a sigh of contentment when your body slowly sinks into the mattress.

“Oh, you poor baby,” pouts the witch. “You must be exhausted from pretending to be the big bad villain.”

Before you can protest, the spy straddles your lower back and begins to massage the knots in your shoulders.

You let out a soft moan.

Natasha leans closer to you, placing a gentle kiss behind your ear.

She smirks at the way your breath hitches.

“What are you doing?” You rasp.

“Oh detka, we’re going to make sure you’re relaxed. Inside out.” Wanda says, peppering small kisses down your neck as Natasha resumes her ministrations on your shoulder.

You resist squirming, already panting.

“My sweet baby,” Natasha coos. “Just relax and let us make you feel good.”

You nod and succumb to bliss beginning to overtake you, your mind already feeling a little fuzzy.

X—X—X—X—X

Lemme know your thoughts

The next chapter is obviously going to be smut, but if you have any specific suggestions, lemme know.

[jemgirl86]

For the "send me a ship and one of these and i’ll write a mini fic" sambucky and 15. things you said with too many miles between us

Hi! Sorry for the wait :) But what can I say? The Golden Globes inspired me lol

Also, tagging @funsized-loser who asked for the same prompt. Thank you both!

Sam pulled his vibrating phone out of his pocket and smiled. Normally, he wouldn’t have left his phone on at all when he was at the studio, but it wasn’t exactly a normal day. His close friend.. occasional muse… lover… partner? Well, maybe. They hadn’t exactly defined it, clearly, and they certainly hadn’t told more than a couple of people about it, but his… well, his something, his very important something, was having a very important night. And, since Sam couldn’t be there in person, which he kind of still felt like shit about, he’d figured the least he could do was break one of his oldest self-imposed rules and leave his phone on while he was recording just this once.

Sam looked over to where his band was settling back in after a short break, and grimaced. He knew what he was about to say wasn’t going to go over well.

“Hey, guys, let’s take five - again,” he said, sheepishly.

“Wilson,” Rhodey sighed, wearing a frown.

Sam’s bass guitarist was even more of a tight ass than he was, and usually Sam appreciated having some backup when he was trying to get the rest of the guys to focus during some of their longer and more brutal recording sessions, but right now, with his phone still buzzing in his hand, appreciation was about the last thing he was feeling.

“I just need a minute,” he said, and started making his way toward the exit.

“Sam,” an exasperated voice called over the intercom.

He looked up to see his manager, Isaiah, and really, everyone else behind the glass too, staring at him in disbelief. “This deadline for—

“I know,” he bit out, frustration boiling over. His phone had already stopped ringing, and started back all over again, and Sam didn’t want Bucky to think he was ignoring him, on today of all days especially. He didn’t want to let his — he didn’t want to let Bucky down.

Read the rest on ao3!

[ussgallifrey]

(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 29

✦ Summary: Your badge clearly said SHIELD consultant, so you weren’t entirely sure where Fury was getting this whole make you an Avenger idea from. But you had a feeling it might have something to do with the recent discovery of an artifact at the bottom of the Arctic Sea.

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Canon divergence, dialogue taken directly from Captain America: Civil War and the Marvel Civil War comic, domestic Avengers, language, official team movie nights, political discourse, references to human trafficking and kidnapping, violence.

✦ Word Count: 7.7k

✦ Playlist: Here

✦ Cinematic Soundtrack: Here

[Master List]

Grabbing a handful of M&M's from Pietro’s offered bag, you hum in consideration, giving your answer at last, “No, I think I see what you’re saying.”

“Thank you!” Natasha sighs in relief.

Tony scoffs from his position on the loveseat. He’s got one leg hanging off the side and the other bent at the knee as he tries to balance a half-finished smoothie on his chest.

“No, I’m clearly a Will-type.”

You can’t help the immediate retching sound that escapes your lips as you sputter, “You are so not.”

“I mean, I can kinda see it?” Rhodey suggests from the armest beside Tony. He just happened to be in the area today and who could say no to Chinese takeout and a movie when Stark was footing the bill?

Beside you, Steve tilts his head. His eyes, darkened in the low light, squint at the screen across the room.

“No, no. We have to be honest with ourselves here,” Natasha placates. “If Tony is anyone, it’s Jack. I mean - ”

As if to explain herself, you all find yourselves watching as Jack performs his daring escape from Norrington and the redcoats. Your eyes follow the pirate captain as he goes sailing on the rope.

“Yeah, I see it,” Steve agrees as the pirate runs across the bridge, getting shot at by Norrington’s men.

Which is followed by a rumbling agreement amongst your fellow movie-watchers.

“Fine, fine,” Tony grumbles, sitting up to run a hand through his hair as he glances around at the rest of the team. “Then tell me this, who else is supposedly dashing young Mr. Turner if not moi?”

You, Clint, Natasha, Rhodey, and Sam almost unanimously say: “Steve.”

With a groan of exasperation, Tony raises his hands in defeat, “Come on!”

“Okay, hear me out,” Natasha points with her drink at the TV. “Boyish charm, protective of the girl he’s had a crush on for ages - ”

This is met with a general hum of approval, though you don’t entirely see how that fits the bill for Steve. The supersoldier in question has his face turned away, occupied with his phone from the looks of it as the bluish-white light of the screen has his face lit up in odd angles in the otherwise darkened room.

“- jumping into a fight he may or may not be able to handle.”

“Total misunderstanding of how the world around him works - you know, with the pirates and shit,” Clint adds with a laugh.

“Awww, come on,” you call out, wrapping your hand around Steve’s left arm, giving him a squeeze of reassurance. “Lay off the guy. He’s nearly a centenarian!”

At last, he turns to look down at you, a smile blooming across his features, as he turns off his phone.

“That’s rich coming from the thirty-five-hundred-year-old sitting next to me.”

“Hey!” you accuse, removing your hand to smack him across the shoulder instead before your eyes travel across the room to the source of your disdain. “Romanoff, I thought I swore you to secrecy on that!”

“Beggars and choosers, Seven,” she grins with a wolfish smile as she tosses a piece of popcorn into her mouth. 

Damn spies. She had pulled that little tidbit out of Dionysus when he was into his fifth glass of wine during your birthday party last year.

“Captain Rogers would take on a new meaning entirely,” Vision contemplates from the island counter.

Wanda nods in agreement beside him as she finishes decorating the sugar cookies she has been working on for the better part of the afternoon.

“If Steve were to grow a beard and wield a cutlass, he would look the part.”

“A beard?” you question as you glance up at the supersoldier. “I can’t picture you with a beard.”

Steve absently rubs at his chin, smooth and stubble-free as always.

While Will begins dueling with Jack in the blacksmith’s shop, the lights in the living room suddenly brighten - leading to several groans of annoyance - and a sharp alarm rings out twice before FRIDAY jumps in.

“You have a Priority Three from Agent Hill, sir.”

The otherwise carefree expressions of the team seem to sober at once as Tony hits the pause button and stands.

“Right, conference room A, FRI. Patch her in.”

Wordlessly, the rest of you deposit your snacks and drinks and get up to follow Stark down the hall to the designated meeting area. Pietro moves to join you, but you put a hand on his shoulder and push him down.

“It’s okay. Stay here.”

He has that look on his face again, but Steve has his hand on your right elbow and he’s gently tugging you along, “We gotta go.”

Offering the teen a final look, you join the rest of the team. Wanda glances up from the cooling racks of cookies, while Vision merely watches the team disappear around the corner.

Though you enjoyed the carefree days at the Compound, you were all too aware of the fact that it was not the norm. 

FRIDAY's alarm interrupted many dinner nights, training sessions, and otherwise obligation-free evenings. Whether it was sightings of an ex-HYDRA operative shooting up a mall in Virginia or the mention of a scientist experimenting with old Chitari weaponry, you were all too used to the call for the Avengers coming in.

Hill’s already on the screen when you enter the room behind Steve. Tony has a holographic map up and two videos running on a loop. You study the city names and the topographical blue-lit mountains to get your bearings.

“This seems like a SHIELD thing, co-director. Not really an avenging thing.”

“Well,” Hill balks. “I thought this one might be of particular interest to you. This operation is just another in the latest stings we’ve conducted across the Midwest this past month.”

Taking a seat at the table, between Sam and Clint, you stare up at the flashing array of pictures from previous sting operations. There’s images of weapon cases, shootouts with masked gunmen, women. A lot of women in various states of well-being.

Tony taps on one picture in particular, enlarging it.

“Not to mention, we’ve been picking up on this more and more frequently.”

It’s an emblem of a snake. Coiled at the tail, standing upright with two visible fangs. You tilt your head to the side, studying it. Trying to remember where exactly you’ve seen this before.

Steve shares a pointed look with Sam before his gaze shifts over to you.

Oh, that’s where.

“Looks like a HYDRA knock-off,” Clint comments.

Steve nods, voice low as he says, “I was thinking the same thing.”

After their two-week-long mission in Texas, Steve had become very well acquainted with that symbol. Though it hadn’t been as graphically pleasing as this new emblem was. When he had discovered a trove of weapons caches in an abandoned storage warehouse, that image had been spray-painted onto the pallets.

Looks like whoever this group was had seriously upgraded since their last encounter with the Avengers.

“It very well could be,” Hill agrees. “Wasn’t their motto about lobbing off one head and another appearing? This could be a branch of some sort. Either way, the reason we’re calling you in tonight - ”

There’s a security feed of a hotel entrance, black and white, typical grainy quality. A woman, maybe early 20s at most, exits the building, says something to the doorman, and moves to the backseat of a waiting car.

“That’s Olivia Nichols, daughter of Jeffery Nichols - CEO of Horizon Global, a multinational corporation that has dealings all over the world. She was supposed to be en route to the airport to meet up with her friends for some kind of bachelorette party. The fact is, she never arrived. And this showed up two hours later in her father’s inbox.”

A cellphone video of a young girl, Olivia, tied to a chair, screaming into the camera appears in the hovering hologram above the conference table.

“Ransom?”

“None.”

Sharing a weary look with Natasha, you both stare at the girl’s panicked face.

“And we’re being asked to handle it because… she’s someone of importance?” Tony questions, voice calm as he flips through Hill’s transferred files.

“Well, that’s part of it,” Hill admits. “We’ve had eyes on a group operating about forty miles south of Las Vegas. Tonight, two truckloads were brought in. One might have had Olivia Nichols on it. The other…”

A final video pops up.

Two faceless guards have their hands on some boxy-looking gun. On the security camera, they aim it at a stack of wooden pallets. But instead of a simple bullet being discharged, a sharp white wave of energy shoots out from the muzzle.

“That’s Hammer tech. Son-of-a-bitch,” Tony grunts, scrubbing a hand across his chin. “Okay, so… kidnapping, illegal arms with extreme military-grade components in the hands of two-bit criminals. Is that about the gist of it?”

“Our insider says they have plans to cross the border tonight. And that they’ll have help.”

A final video appears. In it, a handful of SHIELD special ops agents are knocked out by a man in a dark combat suit. His face is obscured by a mask. The bullets do nothing to stop him as he surges forward and squeezes the neck of an agent to the point of decapitation.

“And one superpowered individual to wrap it out. Wonderful,” Rhodey comments.

Steve drums his knuckles on the table for a moment, a pensive look in his eyes as he studies the multiple videos and pictures.

“Do we have any more information on that individual?”

Hill shakes her head, “This is all I’ve got for you, Captain.”

With a nod, he glances over at Tony who remains silent for a moment as he also looks over the images.

“Right. Wheels up in ten. Hill, send the coordinates over to FRIDAY, we’ll talk when we’re up in the air.”

As you all exit the conference room, headed down to the armory to equip yourselves and suit up, you’re immediately met by both Wanda and Pietro.

“Uh…”

You shoot Steve a look as he goes to leave. He’s immediately at your side, arms crossed as he looks down at the two teenagers.

“Where are we headed?” Pietro asks brightly, bouncing on his heels.

“You? Nowhere.”

“Come on,” the boy groans. “It’s been over a year, we have been training every day. We can help. Let us come this time.”

“You know we can’t do that,” you settle.

Wanda’s eyes flash from you to Steve.

“We fought Ultron, for fuck’s sake - ” Steve flinches as the boy pushes forward with his speech. “We can handle ourselves.”

Placing a hand on the supersoldier’s shoulder, you take his place. This was not the first time you had heard this argument and you sincerely doubted it would be the last.

“We understand that. But you both know it should have never happened. You two were too young and untrained to be anywhere near a threat like that. It’s on us. Your safety is our responsibility. And, I’m sorry, but that’s one thing we’re not willing to risk.”

Pietro glares up at you with a dark look in his eyes, rage bristling along his fingertips.

“You’re going to keep training and you’re going to get better each day. And one day, you will join us in the field. But that day is not today. Now please, we need to go. Vision will stay here with you.”

“We don’t need a babysitter,” Wanda bites as she turns on her heel and walks away.

Pietro stares at you both for a moment more before he disappears in a flash, back down the hall toward the kitchen. Though you doubted that was his final destination.

Turning to look up at the supersoldier, you sigh and give a roll of your eyes.

“Let’s go.”

Steve rolls to the side, using the shield to cover his head as an electrically charged coil comes slamming down on top of him. He can feel the currents surging across the vibranium, but it’s muted compared to the wave of pain Natasha had just suffered.

Sweat soaks his uniform as the unnaturally hot temperatures of the Mojave make him swelter, even in the late-night hour.

“Tell me you got a bright idea up there, Tony.”

Stark soars past, blasting his repulsors at the masked criminal. The man merely turns around and sends his nearly thirty-foot-long coils up at the Iron Man who just barely avoids them.

“Uh, working on that.”

He chances a glance over in your direction. While they maintained the man’s attention, you and Clint had slithered away to deal with the cargo containers. One of which likely contained the missing woman.

Standing back onto his feet, he sends the shield flying at the silent fighter. It slams into his chest but seems to only send him back a foot or so before he’s slinging his electrical whips at the supersoldier once again.

One manages to coil its way around his arm and it burns. The surge of voltage ignites his blood - tears sparking at the corners of his eyes, a scream retching itself from his throat as he tries to fight it.

And then it’s gone in a breath as Steve collapses to his knees.

Sam slams into the masked man, feet first, knocking him completely off-balance.

“Got you, Cap,” he calls as he flies past for a second run at the guy.

Shoving his fist into the ground, Steve pushes himself back up once again.

“Okay, think I might have something here,” Tony calls over the comms. “It’s going to require a live bait for it to work though.”

With a sigh, Steve straightens his posture before asking, “What do you need me to do?”

When the fight is done with, and the supersoldier is sitting on the metal bench on the back of the quinjet, he finds relief in your worried eyes.

“Seriously, Rogers,” you chastise as you dab an alcohol-soaked cloth at the nasty cut above his left eye. “I leave you alone for one minute - ”

“About twenty, really.”

Your hand pauses as you fix him with a particularly heated look.

Steve offers you a crooked smile in return. With a shake of your head, you get back to cleaning him up.

“Twenty minutes, then. And look what happens to you. Were you always this reckless?”

Unable to stop the chuckle from happening, Steve looks away with a sheepish expression.

“Worse, probably.”

You make a humming noise as you go to grab one of the bandages created by the combined efforts of Stark Industries and Dr. Cho that can stitch together lacerations in the span of thirty minutes. They had been truly handy these past few missions out on the field. Mostly with Steve being the one in need of them.

“I’d believe it,” you murmur as you press down on the edge of the dressing to seal it to his skin.

When you back away to return the medical kit to its rightful organization, Steve sits up on the bench, watching your meticulous handiwork.

“How are they?” he questions.

Your body tenses for just a moment before you place the kit back in the cabinet next to the bench.

“They’ve all seen better days,” you admit.

While the team handled the guards and masked criminal - who had managed to get away, though Sam and Tony were currently flying after him - you and Clint had uncovered not a single container of weapons. Instead, you found thirty terrified women huddled together in the back of one of the shipping containers.

“The agents are getting their statements now. Most of them said they signed on to do a cash-under-the-table make-up trial. I’m sure there’s more to it than that, but that’s what I overheard.”

Based on the vacant expression on your face, Steve knows there’s far more to it than what you’re willing to say.

You had both dealt with your fair share of trafficking rings, prisoners, and HYDRA hostages before today. Steve didn’t have to ask to know what things you had likely seen when discovering the women.

When the hostages are safely secured in SHIELD’s hands and the quinjet is back in the air, they get a comm in from Tony. The masked man, apparently, disappeared about ten miles north near Mountain Pass - likely hiding out in one of the old mine shafts until the area was clear.

“Okay, we’ll get the word out,” he says from behind the controls.

A gentle hand on his shoulder has him glancing up to see you, your face already in your phone.

“I’m letting Agent 47 know now. They’ll get teams to set up a perimeter around the town. He won’t get far.”

As you continue typing, Steve gives you a nod before returning his attention to the open skies ahead of them.

Natasha subtly leans her head over in his direction, her eyes never leaving the match in front of them both, as she says,

“Twenty on Seven?”

Steve scoffs, watching as you gather Clint’s wrists together in one hand and pull him up and over your shoulder before bodyslamming him into the mats.

“It’s not really proper betting if we’re both betting on the same person, Nat.”

She hums in return as if to say fair enough, as the pair continue to watch the two of you spar.

He’s leaning on the edge of the mat, peering between the ropes as Clint uses his folded bow like a spear, slamming it onto your shoulder before going for a close-quarters jab to your abdomen.

Steve knows you’re holding back for Barton’s sake. Likely Natasha and the archer also know this fact. But you’re acting like you’re giving it your all.

His eyes become transfixed on the flexing of your biceps, the heaving of your chest as sweat rolls down your neck - dangling on your pendant before falling into the sweet divet of your breasts. It’s not very often that you dress in such a way - a dark sports bra and leggings, similar to what Natasha dones during training - but today it’s your outfit of choice. And Steve is definitely noticing.

He can feel the flush of heat near his ears and cheeks, as well as the rapid beat of his heart as you move around the ring like a gladiator. You flash him a smile as you charge at Clint, tackling him around the torso as you slam him into the ropes.

“OH!” Steve cheers.

“You got this, Clint,” Natasha calls out behind the clap of her hands. Though she immediately leans back over to the supersoldier and mutters, “He’s going to whine about this for days.”

With a laugh, he returns to singing your praises. Cheering you on as you corner the archer once again.

“Come on, we’re buddies, right?” Clint plays, eyeing an escape near your right side as he wipes the sweat from his brow.

“Co-workers at best,” you return with a wild smile as you capture his left forearm in your hand, twisting him around your back.

“That hurts, Seven.”

You let out a breathless chuckle as your hands find purchase on your bare hips.

“No, that actually hurts. What the hell did you do?”

At his concerned voice, your body language changes in an instant as you lean down to look at his wrist, “Are you okay? I swear I didn’t - ”

Clint lets out a triumphant hah as he latches his hands around your neck and physically pulls you up and over his body, slamming your back into the mats behind him. You’re on your feet in a second, crouching down low as you fix him with a predatory look.

“Ooh,” Natasha whistles. “Now you’ve awoken the God.”

“Oh shit,” he stumbles back.

You’re on top of the archer, pinning him down with your thighs and hands. Steve can’t make his gaze move away from the arch of your back before his eyes slowly travel down lower and lower.

“Sorry, Captain Rogers. Miss Romanoff. Mr. Barton. The Goddess Athena.”

Steve pulls away from the ring as he looks up at the ceiling where FRIDAY’s voice has come from. You’re off of Clint, offering him a hand as Natasha joins the supersoldier’s side.

“What is it, FRIDAY?”

“Uh… sir is requesting the team’s presence in Conference Room 2B. He says to tell you that Secretary… Dickless is here, Captain Rogers.”

His eyes move over to Nat.

He hears Clint’s wheezing laugh behind him, followed by your soft chuckle, as the archer manages out, “It’s true sir. This man has no dick.”

“No more Ghostbusters for you,” you say.

“Come on, it’s a classic.”

As Clint and Nat move ahead together - Steve hears her murmur something about needing to work on his footwork - you linger behind with the supersoldier. He turns his gaze on you, but you seem to be focused on the hallway ahead.

“What do you think this is about?” he inquires as the others move ahead through the double set of doors leading up to the stairs.

You pause for a moment, working over your thoughts.

“The SRA if I had to hazard a guess.”

His brows furrow as he stares down at you, “I thought Stark said those were dead on arrival?”

“Nothing in politics is ever truly guaranteed. Best case scenario, it’s an intimidation tactic. I mean…” you resume walking, Steve’s just a step behind you. “The guy’s been after Bruce ever since New York - before New York actually. He might be trying to pull a power move to make us give up his location.”

Steve lets that thought mull over for a moment as you head up the stairs, side-by-side.

Tony’s set up the meeting in the room furthest away from the main living space - right near the entrance to the residence building. And when he enters behind you, he lets out an internal breath of relief when he notices that the twins are not in attendance.

They shouldn’t - would never - be anywhere near the Secretary of State.

Ross is speaking with one of his aides as everyone finds a seat at the conference table. He wedges in next to Sam, while you find a spot between Natasha and Tony. You lean back to say something to the billionaire, careful to keep your words low - too low for even Steve to hear.

“Should I be worried?” Sam asks.

Steve turns to look back at his friend.

“Why? Do anything illegal lately?” he attempts a smile.

Sam shakes his head, “Man, our whole existence has basically been one act of defiance after the other.”

When Ross steps up, silence settles across the room. Steve immediately fixes his expression to be one of unmoving stoicness. He had faced down drill sergeants and SHIELD directors before. He knew how to school his features.

“Five years ago,” the Secretary starts. “I had a heart attack and dropped right in the middle of my backswing. Turns out it was the best round of my life because, after thirteen hours of surgery and a triple bypass, I found something forty years in the army had never taught me. Perspective.”

Steve catches your eye from across the table.

“The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt.”

He immediately senses the but to that sentence as he crosses his arms.

“You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives but while a great many people see you as heroes…”

There it is.

“There are some… who would prefer the word vigilantes.”

Natasha, never missing a beat, asks, “What word would you use, Mr. Secretary?”

He looks up, fixing the woman with a look, “How about dangerous?”

The man takes a moment to stare each of them down with his gaze. Steve can sense the physically unrestrained disdain he has for them all. Prejudice was not so easily hidden.

“What would you call a group of US-based, enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

As the Secretary moves to the side of the table, the projector behind him lights up with a display. Steve has to restrain the roll of his eyes as he prepares himself. The man made a presentation. God help them all.

A black and white map appears with yellow labels. Without even reading them, Steve knows exactly where this is headed before a clip of Tony flying away from a Leviathan appears.

“New York.”

Rhodes looks away as a cellphone video of the Hulk jumping from a tall building down to the street - near the cameraperson - takes over.

“Washington D.C.”

Sam’s posture is rigid as a video of one of the hellicarriers crashing into the Potomac plays.

“Johannesburg.”

The Hulkbuster suit slams into the ground before the Hulk knocks it off-screen.

“London.”

A surge of Iron Legion bots swarms down upon the city as you slam the Abomination into the side of a museum building, fire sparking in the background.

“Sokovia.”

The city is ablaze. Dark black smoke chokes out the sky as drones of silver bots attack the civilian populace. A woman’s decapitated head -

“Okay,” he bites. “That’s enough.”

Ross, looking entirely pleased, nods at his aide to turn off the presentation.

“For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision - ”

“FRIDAY,” Steve turns in his seat as your voice, calm and steady, calls out, “Play archival clip A7 Rio de Janeiro 8.”

Without a word in return, a video appears on the projector behind Ross - who, if looks could kill, Steve assumes the entire room, the projector included, would be in flames.

A security camera quality video shows a team of armed guards outside of a building, firing at a creature. There’s an explosion before the screen goes dark.

“And A7 Culver 4,” your voice has the bristles of rage stemming from it now as you cross your arms over your chest.

Another security camera. A long glass hallway, smoke grenades. 

“And Culver 5.”

An exterior shot of armed men on a grass lawn, firing at a college campus. Large sonic cannons and tanks.

As you settle back in your seat, Tony perks up from the end of the table.

“And hey, FRI, while we’re at it, do you have anything from Harlem on the night of… oh, let’s say… June 4, 2010?”

Ross’ face turns so incredibly red that Steve almost believes a second heart attack is imminent as clips from the Dual of Harlem play out behind him. You had told him all about that particular mission; the clean-up process of securing the Abomination.

As you share a smile with Tony, Ross slowly attempts to gather his composure - straightening his tie.

“You know, since we’re playing out this trip down memory lane,” Tony smirks. “Figured fair was only fair since you and the SOCC were operating within sovereign borders, correct?”

“That was a military operation sanctioned by the US Government,” Ross warbles.

“Oh?” you question, straightening in your seat as you rise to the occasion. “Shall I have FRIDAY bring up the files for Operation: Buster as well?”

“Also a sanctioned operation. Whereas this team is not.”

“By the way, who exactly invited you here? I’m not in the habit of giving out invites to government officials who enjoy sniping my armor from me,” Tony questions with a tilt of his head.

“I did.”

Steve and the rest of the team turn toward the door as Hill walks in. Dressed in her usual tactical suit, but with her hair down, the co-director of SHIELD moves into the conference room. Standing opposite Ross near the front of the table, she keeps her hands behind her back and her chin high as she refuses to meet even one person’s gaze.

Settling his hands on the edge of the table, Ross regains his previous speech back from your hands.

“Unless you would like to bring up videos of you and the god Thor destroying this great city…” your silence lingers for a moment too long, allowing the Secretary to continue. “As I was saying, this is an arrangement that the government and many governments around the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have the solution.”

Steve stares at the heavy booklet that his aide hands over to Ross.

“The SRA; the Superhuman Registration Act.”

The legislation is passed from Clint to Rhodes then Natasha. Down the table, it goes before it lands in front of Steve.

114-23: The Superhuman Registration Act stares back at him.

“Approved by fifty-four Congressmen and women it states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization.”

Steve’s gaze lands on Tony. That was more than what the billionaire had claimed. Apparently, the Democrats were more than willing to jump the aisle. 

“Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a government panel. Anyone wishing to use their powers in an official capacity will register with the government. They’ll go through the proper avenues of training and testing before they can be allowed out in the field to defend the people of this country.”

“Just this country?” Steve questions as he raps his knuckles against the book before passing it along to Tony.

“Allied nations, of course,” Ross supplements.

Steve, unable to keep his mouth closed now that he’s opened it stares up at the Secretary as he says, “The Avengers were formed to make this world a safer place. I feel we’ve done that.”

Ross immediately counters, “Tell me, Captain. Do you know where Thor and Banner are right now? If I misplaced a couple of thirty-ton megaton nukes - ”

Before he can respond, you chime in, “The Virgin Islands.”

With the man’s attention turned on you, you offer him your sneeriest smile.

“I just spoke to them yesterday. They’ve been enjoying a thoroughly wonderful vacation in one of your territories.”

The Secretary clears his throat, signaling to his aide.

Your secretive smile curves further as Steve catches your eye. Clever girl is what he wishes he could say to you.

“Compromise,” he restarts as he moves back to the head of the table. “Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.”

Rhodes looks down at Tony before he addresses the Secretary, “So, there are contingencies.”

“Three days from now, this piece of legislation will be up for a vote in the Senate. After that, the House. Talk it over.”

Having apparently said his fill, Ross and his aide move to leave.

Clint looks back at the Secretary as he retreats, “And what if we come to a decision you don’t like?”

Ross pauses near the door, by Tony’s chair.

“Then you retire.”

Nodding at his aide, the two disappear into the hallway.

“Don’t let the door… smack your stupid ass on the way out,” Tony mutters to himself, dragging a hand down his face.

“How’s it going, Maria?” Clint chatters as he kicks his feet up onto the edge of the table.

Steve turns his attention back to the co-director as she saunters over to the table.

“It was necessary.”

“Inviting Thunderbolt Ross to our house? That was necessary?” Tony questions with a biting tone. “Thanks for the memo, by the way. Minutes before it happened.”

He feels his fingers tightening into a fist on the table before he forces himself to relax his hand.

“While you guys have been galavanting around the world, mission to mission, I’ve been trying to rebuild SHIELD from the ground up. Do you know what kind of measures I’ve had to implement to get the government to trust us as an official entity once again?”

“Once Insight went to shit, you had the country in an uproar - screaming at their senators and representatives, demanding we get disbanded. But then I’d just be handing over control to the Army. And… I think we all know how well that went over…”

Her gaze moves from the table to the door in which Ross had just exited.

“A little compromise with them is going to lead to us still being able to function in any real capacity. The next time aliens decide to attack New York, we’ll actually be able to handle it instead of having a higher government panel choose to nuke the city. That’s why I brought Ross in.”

“So… instead of us getting to decide when and where we need to be, we’ll have... who exactly doing the deciding?”

With a sigh, Hill looks from Tony to Steve, trying to maintain their gaze.

“This is a way to get your foot in the door to negotiate your terms. Stark, you know all about that.”

Seeing that she’s still not garnered an inch of trust, she pushes on, “I did this to give Ross the impression that he’s got the power here. But, come on, you guys have two Gods on your side. That’s more than enough to sway things in your favor.”

“Our favor, or SHIELD’s?”

Steve raises his head as you fix Hill with a bristling look.

The co-director straightens her posture, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles on her suit.

“Both. It’s mutually beneficial legislation.”

Movement from across the table catches the supersoldier’s eye. You push yourself away from the table, ignoring Natasha’s worried eyes and Tony’s words of complaint.

“Agent Seven,” Hill uses her commanding tone to gain your attention like you were just another soldier who would just fall in line at the snap of her fingers.

While your brow is raised in question, you merely cross your arms and stare at the co-director.

“I’m sorry. I thought these were human affairs. As someone who is in fact in-human, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to sit here any longer and hear bull spew from your lips.”

Hill recoils before schooling her features, “You might not be human, but you do choose to live here amongst us and work with us.”

You shrug your head to the side, “That can always change.”

And then you’re out of the room before the woman can even form a rebuttal.

“Smooth,” Rhodey grimaces as he turns in his chair to look at the rest of the team.

Steve watches your retreating form, your steps hurried as you disappear down the hallway. Without much more thought, he’s up and out of his chair.

“Captain Rogers.”

He turns, offering her an equally neutral look, “Yes, co-director?”

“Steve,” she attempts instead, trying to play to his humanity like it wasn’t the oldest trick in the book.

“Hill. Don’t try and play politics with me. We need to stay above this stuff or we get Washington telling us who the villains are. I’ve seen it happen before and I’m not interested. If you’ll excuse me,” and then he’s out the door, going in the same direction you had.

He can hear someone call his name, Natasha he thinks, but he’s at a half-jog now, trying to catch up to you.

But Tony’s faster as he speeds around the corner - a hand reaching out to stop the supersoldier before he can get much farther than the end of the corridor.

“Hey, look - ”

Steve turns around, gaze sharp and posture rigid.

“Whoa, at ease. What I was going to say,” Tony sighs, raking a hand through his hair, “before you decided to run off was… we’re all on the same page here, Rogers. Fuck Ross, fuck the SRA. We’re not gonna have Yoko come in and try to split up the band.”

Steve blinks, “What?”

“Yoko… as in Ono? Oh, for fucks sake I thought you already covered this. Beatles, circa ‘69. The Let It Be album. Trust me, you’ll get the reference eventually. Point is! We’re sticking together in telling Hill to suck it, alright?”

“Got it,” he mutters, gazing down the opposite end of the hallway.

“Right, just wanted to…” Tony reaches out, lightly tapping his shoulder once, twice, before he backs off. “Go and find your girl, or whatever.”

“She’s not my - ”

But the amused look on the billionaire’s face keeps him from finishing the sentence.

Because while you might not technically be Steve’s, most people would assume that wherever you were he likely wasn’t far behind. In every sense but the literal, you were Steve’s girl. Even he acknowledges that now.

The hallways filter off into three directions: the stairs to the lower levels - your quarters, the hall that leads to the living space and kitchen, and the third which splits off toward more empty meeting rooms and offices.

You were too worked up to go where the twins might be located, which nixed the first two halls. He ducks down the third instead. Glancing into each room he passes, but finds them to all be darkened and notably empty. 

“FRIDAY?” he calls out. “Do you have a location on Athena?”

“The Goddess Athena is not inside the Compound at this time, Captain Rogers.”

“Not inside the…” Steve mulls, glancing around the hall.

But then his eyes land on a final set of doors that lead out to a small garden area. It was a part of the building that had seen little to no use since Tony opened the Compound up to them all.

But Steve pushes open the door anyway. The stone-lined patio is also devoid of one particular goddess. However, his eyes travel over to a dark-stone-lined path that wraps around the corner of the fenced-in patio space. Having never ventured out this way himself, he’s actually sort of surprised to see you sitting on the edge of the covered dock along the river.

He doesn’t keep his approach quiet, giving you time to tell him off - to tell him to go away. But you don’t say a word.

You’ve got your leggings pushed up to your knees as you dangle your bare feet into the water. Tiny goosebumps cover your arms and neck as he draws near, dropping down beside you on the wooden deck.

“You have an uncanny habit of finding me, Rogers.”

Your voice is soft and lithe in the cool air of the early summer day. The clouds overhead are a subdued gray, thick rolling waves against an equally dull sky. The right kind of weather to match the conversation they had all been dragged into, he surmises.

“More of a hobby.”

Your eyes meet his and a half-smile graces the curve of your lips as you briefly take him in.

Removing his own shoes and socks, Steve slowly rolls the cuffs of his pant legs up high enough before he too eases his feet into the cool murky waters of the Hudson. With his hands folded in his lap, he watches the river flow past, allowing that lingering bit of silence to last a few minutes more.

But, eventually, he can’t help himself.

“What do you make of it?”

Your wary eyes meet his before you focus your attention back to the river.

“Whether they’ll happen or not?”

He gives a half-hearted shrug, “I suppose.”

You lean back, your hands splaying out against the wooden boards behind you, “I suppose there’s a higher chance now than there was before. If it gets through the Senate and eventually the House, you’ll just have to hope that Tony works his way with Ellis to dispel disaster before it hits.”

“We will?”

Your expression seems to say oh, caught that, did you? While Steve’s own brow furrows.

“Like I said, I’m not a permanent resident of this country. I could come and go and never be truly affected by any law they put in place.”

“Leave the team? Just like that?”

Before annoyance can cloud his mind, your left shoulder bumps into his right.

“I never said I wanted to. Just stating a fact. This whole bill… it’s a human issue, Steve,” your eyes meet his gaze. “It’s none of my business, really.”

Heaving a sigh, he drops his hands on either side of his body, feeling the smooth grain of the wood beneath his fingertips.

“And if I asked you what your true opinion on the SRA is?”

“I would say…” your hand seems to move to the pendant around your neck as your fingers draw circles over the locket itself for a few quiet beats. “That I could see some merits with it, in all honesty.”

Drawing one foot out of the water, you bend your leg at the knee as you turn to face him.

“Don’t get me wrong, with the right administration behind the wheel this could be a genuine good thing to enact. But the wrong government… well, then you get things like Insight.” 

With a sigh, you twist your fingers together. Steve can’t help himself from reaching out a hand to stop the motion. 

A bubble of laughter escapes your lips as you allow him to entwine your left hand with his right. Despite the amount of work you do, the fighting and sparring, your hands are smooth beneath his touch. Warm, despite the chilly air.

“I think… it wouldn’t hurt to have some sort of oversight, to keep things in check at times. I mean, there’s the entire Iron Legion debacle. Or… if we were to send Wanda and Pietro out now. You and I both know they need more training. If there are more people out there like them… I can’t imagine if they were just allowed to be out in the world with whatever powers they might possess with little to no combat training. It’d be like…”

Your free hand gestures outward as you try to think of the right analogy. Steve gets lost in the exasperated curl of your lips.

“Like… sending out your boot camp cadet for D-Day, you know? And honestly,” your voice grows soft, more somber in tone as your fingers tighten in his hold. “Ross had a point. Thor, Bruce, me - we are like nuclear warheads in the wrong place. We’re a destructive force never meant for the likes of humanity.”

“Please don’t say that,” Steve implores as he forces you to meet his eyes. “I mean it.”

With a nod, your eyes remaining on his, your hands tightening into an enclosed grip, you say, “Sometimes, it would be good to have someone keeping things in check. Even on a small scale, like… deciding who would be best equipped to handle a mission and who would be better to have on standby. Or, god, I don’t know. Not having two Gods entering a foreign country to threaten security guards for intel might be a good idea.”

Yeah, even Steve will admit that wasn’t the height of their crowning achievements. He lets the cool water rippling around his calves and feet settle him down to a point that his thoughts won’t be construed as angry.

“While I understand that,” he begins. “I just can’t see this working in our favor, at all.”

Giving a solemn nod, your hand slips from his hold.

“Even in a liberally-minded president’s hands, anything can be turned in the blink of an eye. Freedom disappearing overnight in the name of national security.”

Images of Project Insight play out in his mind. SHIELD had targeted millions across the country with their play at securing public safety. Every member of the team, the President, and millions of civilians of varying ages and creeds. Though it had been taken over by HYDRA, Fury had originally green-lit the project. That had been his solution for the attack on New York.

And now, after four years, this was the government’s solution to, well, them. The Avengers Initiative.

No, Steve wasn’t going to sit by the wayside and let the team be touched by the same people who had tried to nuke Manhattan, who had chased Bruce across the world, or who had tried to take the suit from Tony.

“You’ve got that face again.”

The supersoldier blinks, taking in your smile. Your eyes seem more radiant in the sunlight now as you begin to laugh.

“What face?” he questions with a quiet chuckle.

“The face you get whenever you plan to do something incredibly stupid.”

Steve shoves at your shoulder and you actually allow him to push you back. But then your right hand dips into the river and suddenly he’s got a spray of water in his face. And then he’s drawing his own legs out of the water and he’s crawling after your retreating form as you kick back at him with a high-pitched series of giggles, but he wraps his arms around your knees. And then he’s dragging you toward him, your body prone and your chest heaving as you recline against the deck.

Your hair is splayed outward around your head and your cheeks are tight with laughter as you settle him with a warm look and god he should just do it, just lean his lips down and capture your lips finally, fucking finally after all of these years.

“Oh, Rogers,” you sigh - your hand lifting up to ruffle his hair.

Steve ducks his head into your touch, eyelids fluttering as your fingers dig in.

“What am I going to do with you?”

Leaning his head down, his lips almost coming in contact with your very close and very warm chest, Steve mutters, “I could think of a few things.”

Your hand stalls and he wants to kick himself for saying anything at all, but as he lifts his head, he finds your easy smile, and all other thoughts seem to fade away as you huff out a breath, your knee shoving into his abdomen.

“God, you’re heavy.”

Knowing the moment for anything has long since passed him by once again, he plays the usual teasing card as he winces at your sharp kneecap.

“Okay, okay, I’m going. I’m going.”

As you sit up, smoothing your hair away from your face, and as he stands back up to offer you a hand of help, your sparkling eyes meet his gaze.

“Not too far, hopefully.”

As he clutches your hand, helping to pull you up to your feet, your body just a breath apart from his, he mutters, “Never. That’s a promise.”

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

[polizwrites]

Difficult Choices

This is a fill for today’s  @flashfictionfridayofficial   prompt [#FFF306 Forced to Choose] as well as my @sweetspicybingo   Beginnings Bingo Square C1 - First Class. 

Fandom: MCU/Marvel Pairing: Tony Stark &  James “Rhodey” Rhodes Rating: General Tags: No Powers AU, College AU, Friendly Banter, Tony is not a morning person Summary:  Tony’s procrastination in choosing next semester’s classes is causing stress; after a bit of teasing, Rhodey comes to the rescue.   Word Count:  357 words 

“Oh come on, ”  Tony exclaimed as he flipped through the course catalog.  “You mean to tell me the only Nanomechanics of Materials and Biomaterials course offered this semester   includes an  8am lab every Monday? My first class of the week shouldn’t be till. .. I don’t know … two in the afternoon  on Tuesdays or something like that!”  

Rhodey shook his head - clearly less than sympathetic. “I warned you not to wait until the last minute to enroll.”  

Tony threw his hands up in the air.  “What kind of person is even coherent at that time of day?” 

“Well, me for one,” Rhodey shot back. “Unless you’ve been your usual bad influence.” 

“You mean dragging you out of your room and  making you talk to girls is being a bad influence?”  Tony scoffed.  

“According to my mama, probably.” Rhodey gestured for the catalog and Tony tossed it to him with an exasperated huff. He read through the class listings again.    “You could take Computational Materials Design  instead.” 

Tony waved a hand dismissively.  “Already audited it last semester.  It’d  be a waste of my time.” 

“How about Modelling, Problem Solving, Computing, and Visualization?” Rhodey paused and shook his head.  “No, wait, I’ve seen the way you model and problem solve - you’d drive everyone in the class nuts.” 

Tony shrugged.  “Can I help it if I have a unique take on R&D?”   

Rhodey snorted.  “Wait, here we go - Electrical, Optical, and Magnetic Materials and Devices -  ten to noon, Wednesdays and Fridays.  It would fill your restricted elective slot and ties into what you’re thinking of for your senior project.” 

Tony grabbed the catalog back and read over the description of the class.   “Huh - okay.  That might work. Let’s head over to the Office of the Registrar and see if that class is still open.”  

“And then we can swing by the soda fountain at the Union  and you can buy me something to drink  for helping you figure out your schedule.”  

“You just want to see if Carol’s working, don’t you?”  Tony waggled his eyebrows at his friend, who somehow managed to blush.   “Okay, platypus - I’ll be your wingman.”   

[snowdrop-ivy]

The Light Within: V - Anchor

Summary: In a world where danger lurks at every corner, will Anna and Bucky find the strength to confront their pasts and embrace a future together, or will their scars keep them apart forever?

Pairing: Bucky x Stark!Reader, Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Warning: Guns, mild cursing, and a hell lot of fluff!

The sun shined bright, gazing inside his room making him groan awake. He stood up on his bed to realize he’s by himself. He wondered if she really came by last night. He looked around and saw the TV was turned off but he recalled the fuzzy purple she had that’s now wrapped around him. He smiled at the thought, brushing his hand on the soft cotton, before pulling it close to his nose to sniff on it, and how good it smelt; like the first breath of spring, the scent was a mixture of soft florals and clean powder, delicate and pure. He decided to fold it gently like a christmas gift before taking a bath to start his day. He was supposed to return it but when he knocked on her door, she didn’t answer. He figured her day had already started so he just kept it in his room.

The kitchen hummed with the lively banter of Rhodey and Sam, their voices bouncing off the walls as they engaged in their usual playful bickering. At the far end, Steve and Wanda quietly ate their breakfast, their silence a contrast to the ongoing chatter. Bucky entered the room, the soft creak of the floorboards the only indication of his presence as he grabbed a bowl of cereal and slid into the seat next to Steve.

“Morning,” Steve greeted him, his tone casual but warm.

Bucky glanced up, giving a short nod in return. “Morning.”

Steve's gaze lingered on him, as if studying him for a moment longer than necessary. “How’d you sleep?” he asked, propping his elbow lazily on the table, though his voice carried a note of genuine concern.

Bucky let out a quiet sigh, the smile tugging at his lips kept firmly to himself. “Good.”

Steve didn’t buy it. His head tilted slightly, his brows knitting together in quiet scrutiny. “Come on, Buck, I know you’re not sleeping. It’s been a week since we’ve been here, and you still haven’t made friends.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened slightly, a defensive edge creeping into his posture. “I have a friend,” he shot back, his voice quieter, as if trying to make himself believe it.

Steve exhaled, almost exasperated, dismissing the comment with a casual wave. “Anna is not a friend.” He sighed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned closer. “Friends don’t start with kicking your ass.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, catching the glint of mischief in Steve’s expression. That sneaky smirk of his. Bucky couldn’t help but roll his eyes, though the tension in his shoulders eased ever so slightly.

“Fine,” Bucky muttered, sinking back into his seat. “I’ll talk to them.”

Steve raised a brow, his smirk widening triumphantly, but said nothing more. The kitchen continued to hum around them, the air a little lighter now. “Good.”

Wanda excused herself with Rhodey, taking him out as they’re all getting fed up with the two’s bickering. As they left Anna entered, Bucky couldn’t help but stare. His mouth a little agape with her sight; the sweat glistening her skin as she wore her sports bra and shorts, looking like she went for a run. She immediately grabbed a bottle of water and leaned to the fridge’s door as she drank it.

“How many did you reach this time?” Steve asked, greeting her in silence.

“10k,” she answered, taking a big gulp of water.

Steve and Anna continued to exchange stories, their voices weaving through the air like a quiet melody as the morning unfolded around them. Steve's laughter came in bursts, while Anna, leaning on the counter, wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. Yet amidst the casual back-and-forth, Bucky sat frozen, a silent figure amidst the movement. His bowl of cereal remained untouched, his spoon resting idly mid-air.

His gaze, however, never wavered.

He wasn’t listening to Steve’s laughter or Anna’s words. He was watching her—how her chest rose and fell with every breath she took, how a single drop of water traced its way down her neck, catching the light before disappearing into her collar. To anyone else, she was tired. It was written in the slump of her shoulders, in the faint dark circles under her eyes, and in the slow, deliberate way she moved.

But not to him.

In his eyes, she was something else entirely. Exhaustion had no place in the way he saw her. There was a strength there that eclipsed whatever weariness clung to her frame, a resilience that seemed to pull her forward despite everything. And so, Bucky watched, unblinking, as if she was the only thing worth seeing in a room full of life.

Bucky was jolted out of his daydream, the haze in his mind dissolving as he saw Anna slowly walking toward him. The world around him seemed to slow, like one of those scenes in a movie where time stood still, and for a moment, he felt paralyzed. His breath caught as she leaned forward, arms braced on the table in front of him, her eyes locking with his, and with a teasing smile, she snapped her fingers.

“W-What?” he stammered, his eyes fluttering as he tried to collect himself. He felt heat creep up his neck, his face flushing as he noticed the amusement she was barely holding back.

“I said, ‘Good morning, Sergeant. How’d you sleep?’” Anna repeated, her voice dripping with playful mischief, her eyes twinkling.

Bucky sat up straighter, forcing a casual air, trying to mask the effect she had on him. “I slept well,” he replied, smoothing out his tone.

Anna raised an eyebrow, studying him for a beat longer than felt comfortable. “That’s good then.”

“Yeah, it was,” Bucky nodded, plastering a smile on his face as he watched her return to the counter. His voice softened, almost to himself, “I had a pretty good night guard.”

Her head whipped around, eyes narrowing in mock suspicion, but she quickly composed herself. 

“Night guard?” Steve echoed, his lips pursing into a smirk. Sam, now curious as well, exchanged confused glances, their arms crossing in unison.

“What?” she interjected defensively, “You both haven’t had a night guard?”

“No,” Steve and Sam answered in unison, their brows furrowed.

“Sad for you,” Anna shrugged, grabbing a piece of fruit from the counter, biting into it casually.

Steve, still confused, turned to Bucky. “What does it do?”

Bucky shot a glance at Anna before meeting Steve’s gaze. “They stay up all night with you, or… they’ll watch movies with you.”

Sam, intrigued, leaned in. “What movies?”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, his voice dropping to a timid mutter. “Hangover.”

Sam’s reaction was immediate. “What!?” He spun toward Anna, his hands on his hips in exaggerated offense. “I asked you to watch that with me, but you watched it with him?”

Bucky’s jaw clenched instinctively, a flicker of jealousy tightening his chest. He bit down on his tongue, forcing himself to stay composed. Anna’s eyes flickered over to him, noticing his tension, and a small, knowing smile played on her lips.

“I prefer watching it with him,” she said simply, her eyes meeting Bucky’s. Her gaze lingered a second too long, and for a moment, everything else seemed to disappear again. Warmth bloomed in his chest as her smile softened.

“And besides,” she added, turning back to Sam with a teasing edge, “you’re annoying to watch movies with!”

Sam’s face twisted in mock hurt, his arms flailing in disbelief. “How?!”

“You talk throughout the entire movie!” she shot back, her annoyance bubbling to the surface, though her smile gave her away.

Steve and Anna chuckled at Sam’s wounded expression, and even Bucky couldn’t help but grin, his earlier jealousy melting away in the laughter that filled the room. But beneath it all, the warmth from her lingering gaze stayed with him. The laughter in the kitchen gradually faded as the morning slipped by. Soon, the team found themselves gearing up for their daily training session in the gym. The change in atmosphere was palpable. The lighthearted banter that had filled the kitchen was replaced by a determined focus, the kind of intensity that always hung in the air when it was time to train.

The gym, with its cold, metallic walls and the hum of machinery, was already alive with the clanking of weights and the rhythmic pounding of fists against punching bags. Steve led the charge, as usual, tossing a towel over his shoulder as he gestured for everyone to spread out. Rhodey, Nat, and Sam took to the far side, already challenging each other to push-ups, while Wanda found her space in the corner, focusing on her meditation before starting.

Bucky, still carrying the warmth of his earlier exchange with Anna, tried to shake off the feeling as he stepped toward the weights. His gaze flicked across the room, landing on Anna. She was warming up, stretching her arms above her head, her expression already serious and focused. The light in the gym caught the sheen of sweat already forming on her skin as she prepared for what was ahead.

He was trying to focus, trying to get into his own rhythm, but his eyes kept drifting back to her. The way she moved was methodical, almost graceful, as if the exhaustion he had noticed earlier had evaporated in the face of their training.

Suddenly, Anna turned, catching him watching her. Her lips quirked up, barely perceptible, and without missing a beat, she motioned toward the sparring mats. “Come on, soldier,” she called out, her voice ringing through the gym. “Think you can keep up with me today?”

Bucky felt his heart skip a beat, though he masked it quickly with a smirk of his own. “You’re on,” he said, standing straighter, his competitive side kicking in. He followed her onto the mats, rolling his shoulders and mentally preparing for what he knew would be a tough session. She never went easy on him—he knew that better than anyone.

They squared off, Anna bouncing on her feet, light and quick. Bucky braced himself, keeping his stance firm. The first few minutes were a blur of quick jabs, dodges, and blocks. She was fast—too fast sometimes, but he had strength on his side. He countered her movements, their sparring escalating with each passing second, the sound of their fists and feet hitting the mats echoing through the gym.

For a moment, it was just them. The room seemed to disappear, and all Bucky could focus on was Anna’s fierce determination. The way she challenged him, pushed him, and never backed down. He could see the fire in her eyes, that same spark that had captivated him.

Then, with a swift motion, Anna swept his leg, catching him off guard. Bucky tumbled backward, hitting the mat with a grunt. He lay there for a moment, blinking up at the ceiling, surprised but not hurt.

Anna stood over him, hands on her hips, her chest heaving as she caught her breath. “Told you,” she teased, offering him a hand. “Keep up, Sergeant.”

Bucky groaned, but he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips as he took her hand, letting her help him back to his feet. “Fine,” he muttered, brushing off the dust. “But you’re still watching Hangover with me, night guard.”

Anna laughed, the sound light and genuine. “You got it, boss,” she said, giving him a playful nudge before moving off the mats to grab some water. Steve, who had been watching from the sidelines, shook his head, an amused smile on his face.

“Looks like you’ve made a friend after all,” Steve remarked, clapping Bucky on the back as he passed by.

Bucky glanced over at Anna, who was already back to her routine, wiping her brow and getting ready for the next round. He couldn’t deny the warmth spreading through him at Steve’s words, nor could he shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, things were starting to change for him.

“Yeah,” Bucky said softly, his eyes lingering on her. “Maybe I have.”

Bucky stood quietly beside Sam and Steve as they all watched the sparring match unfold before them. Anna and Nat moved with precision and intensity, their strikes and counters a blur of calculated force. The room was alive with the sound of fists connecting with padded gloves, but Bucky’s focus never strayed from Anna. He barely blinked when Anna won the first round, her movements sharp and powerful, earning groans from the guys as Nat landed on the mat. However, in the second round, Nat came back with fierce determination, and this time it was Anna who hit the ground, panting and exhausted.

As Anna lay there catching her breath, Sam, ever the instigator, grinned mischievously and leaned closer to Bucky. He began to sing, “Bucky and Anna, kissing in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

Bucky shot him a dark look, but Sam only laughed harder. His eyes involuntarily drifted back to Anna, who was picking herself up off the mat, wiping sweat from her nose. His gaze lingered a little too long.

“Come on!” Sam teased, nudging Bucky with his elbow. “You like her, man!”

“I don’t,” Bucky said quickly, shaking his head, though the heat rising in his chest betrayed the truth. Denial came easily, but the genuine feelings stirring inside him were harder to dismiss.

Steve placed a steady hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “You’re a good soldier, Buck,” he said, his voice calm but knowing. “But you’re not a good liar.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, shaking his head again, this time more forcefully. “Just stop it,” he muttered, his voice firmer than before. “I don’t like her.”

Sam raised his hands in mock surrender, a sly grin on his face. “Okay, okay. If you don’t like her, then you won’t mind if I ask her out, right?”

That made Bucky’s head snap around, his eyes narrowing at Sam. His entire body stiffened, the playful atmosphere evaporating in an instant. “Don’t you dare,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, the possessiveness slipping out before he could stop it.

Sam’s laughter erupted, his hands dropping to his knees as he doubled over. “Okay, you don’t like her then!” he crowed, shaking his head in amusement.

“Come on, Buck!” Steve exclaimed, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. “What’s the worst thing that can happen? It’s just a date!”

“It’s not that simple,” Bucky replied, letting out a heavy sigh as he ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, look at her. Does she look like the kind who’ll go out with me?” He gestured toward Anna, who was now chatting with Nat and wiping down the mats, her laughter ringing through the gym.

Sam and Steve exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them before Sam spoke up. “Chicks dig you, man!” he insisted, trying to lift Bucky’s spirits. “I mean, look at them.” He pointed toward a group of people at the far end of the gym, glancing over at Bucky, their smiles wide and inviting. “I don’t know if it’s the arm or the hair or the eyes, but you are a handsome man.”

Bucky couldn’t help but smile at Sam’s enthusiasm, even if it felt misplaced. “Thanks,” he muttered, a hint of warmth creeping into his cheeks.

“And besides,” Steve chimed in, leaning closer as he nodded toward the guys in the gym who were now watching Anna as she moved to the weights. “If you don’t make a move, someone will.” His tone was serious, but there was a teasing glimmer in his eyes as he watched Bucky’s reaction.

Bucky’s stomach dropped as he followed Steve’s gaze. The guys were staring at Anna, their eyes filled with admiration as she flashed them a kind smile, completely unaware of the effect she had on them. It twisted something inside him—a mix of protectiveness and jealousy that he wasn’t quite prepared to confront.

Bucky shot a sidelong glance at Anna again, noting how her smile lit up her entire face, making her even more radiant. It was true—he felt a connection with her, a spark that made the air around them buzz. But the thought of making a move terrified him. Bucky swept the thought of his feelings for Anna under his imaginary rug, pushing it deep down where he hoped it would stay hidden. The days rolled on, each one blending into the next. He kept convincing himself that what they had was simply friendship—that the way Anna treated him was just her natural kindness shining through. But in the quiet moments when they were together, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something more.

Their team had been busy with missions, navigating the intricacies of their work, but this time, things were different. For the first time, Bucky and Anna would be paired together. He had no complaints about it, nor did she. The anticipation buzzed in the air as they prepared for their mission, a shared excitement that felt electric.

As they delved into their tasks, Bucky found himself increasingly drawn to Anna, not just for her skills but for the way she saw the world. She had been teaching him about the nuances of life in the present day—everything from the intricacies of modern technology to the subtle shifts in societal norms. He listened intently as she shared anecdotes, each one more captivating than the last, whether it was about the mystery of who stole her cookies from the fridge or her passionate rants about the state of the economy.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” he said as they got ready for their mission. “People choose different milk for this thing called ‘lattes’?”

Anna laughed, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yes! I like mine with oat milk. You need to try it!”

He shook his head, both bewildered and entertained. “Coffee is coffee, Anna.”

“I’ll make you try it!” she said, leaning closer, her enthusiasm contagious. “Or, I’ll make you one!”

Bucky nodded his head, hanging onto her every word, completely absorbed in her animated storytelling. Each time she spoke, he felt a flutter of something warm inside him, but he quickly pushed that sensation away. Focus, Bucky. They were here to work, to get the job done. The pair got settled into their rooms, adjacent to each other but Anna stayed in his room as they killed time. She got out a book and read it on his bed. While Bucky grew conscious of her presence. He wants to slap himself in the head with his feelings. It’s not the first time they spent time together but still, there’s an unwavering brew of feelings deep down. Maybe it’s because they’re completely alone or maybe because Sam’s been bugging him for days.

“You good?” She asked, not looking at him pacing around the room, trying to be comfortable.

“Yeah,” he muttered under his breath, sitting down on the couch facing the bed.

Infiltrate, rescue, gather intel.

Bucky kept repeating the mission objectives in his head, like a mental checklist he needed to follow. Each word echoed with the weight of responsibility. This was a critical mission—no room for mistakes. As the night crept closer, the tension in the air thickened, and the world outside the safehouse grew dark and still. 

Anna stood beside him, silently preparing. She tightened the straps of her tactical vest, her movements precise but tinged with an underlying frustration that Bucky could sense. The mission weighed heavily on both of them, but for Anna, it was personal. They weren’t just going after HYDRA; they were going to rescue a boy—just a kid—who had been captured to be used as an experiment. Like a lab rat. The very thought flipped Anna’s stomach upside down every time it crossed her mind. She tried to push the images out of her head, but they lingered, gnawing at her.

Bucky noticed the shift in her demeanor. He could see the way her jaw clenched, how her hands tightened into fists for a second before she forced herself to relax. She was always composed, always sharp, but this mission—it had hit a nerve.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low, though his eyes were fixed on the gear he was loading.

Anna paused, eyes flickering towards him for a moment. “Yeah,” she sighed, but the tightness in her voice overpowered her. “I just… just think that that could’ve been me if I didn’t run. Or that kid, what they did to him, or his family.”

His jaw clenched, understanding all too well the horrors HYDRA was capable of. The scars they left behind—physically and mentally—were things he carried with him every day. “We’ll get him out,” he said firmly, his voice filled with a quiet, unyielding resolve. “This won’t happen again to anyone, that’s our job.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t make it easier,” she replied, her eyes hardening, the memory of how they killed her family replayed in her head. “This isn’t just intel or taking out some HYDRA base. This is a child.”

Bucky knew she was right. The stakes felt higher this time, more urgent. But that also made it more dangerous. If either of them let their emotions get the better of them, it could put the entire mission at risk.

He took a breath, forcing his mind to refocus. Infiltrate, rescue, gather intel. Just like they’d planned. Everything had to be done methodically, by the book. HYDRA wasn’t a foe to underestimate. One wrong move, and the boy’s life—and theirs—could be forfeit.

Anna slung her batons over her shoulder, her expression hardening into the cool determination that Bucky had come to rely on. Despite the storm raging beneath her surface, when it came down to the mission, she was always sharp, always prepared. “Ready?” she asked, her voice steady now.

Bucky gave a firm nod. “Let’s do this.”

The two moved quietly, slipping into the shadows of the night, their figures disappearing into the darkness as they made their way toward the HYDRA facility. The tension between them was palpable, not from mistrust, but from the weight of what lay ahead. As they approached the compound, the sleek silhouette of the building loomed in front of them, cold and lifeless. Bucky's breath misted in the cool night air as he and Anna took their positions, blending seamlessly into the shadows. 

Bucky took the lead, his movements swift and precise as he picked the lock on the bolted door. Anna stood behind him, her senses on high alert, scanning the darkened area for any signs of danger. When the lock clicked open, they slipped inside, greeted by an unsettling coldness in the air. Instead of the expected chaos or disarray, the building was pristine—spotless, almost eerily so. The chairs were neatly arranged, the shelves stacked perfectly against the walls. It was like a showpiece, a façade meant to lull them into a false sense of security.

Anna took point as they moved deeper into the facility, her steps cautious but deliberate, each one calculated. Bucky stayed close behind, watching her back more intently than his own. His mind raced, but his eyes never left her, ensuring that whatever came their way, he’d be ready to intercept.

When they reached the second floor, they were met with an unsettling sight—an endless hallway of doors on each side, stretching into the darkness. Bucky and Anna exchanged a quick glance, a silent nod that communicated everything they needed to know. They would split up, each taking one side. It was a risk, but they had no time to hesitate. 

Anna began opening the doors methodically, her heart racing as she checked each room. Bucky did the same, but they were both growing anxious—where was the boy? It wasn’t long before, with a deep sense of relief, Anna found him.

The sight stopped her cold. In the middle of a sterile room, the boy sat bound to a chair, his hands tied tightly behind him, feet shackled to the legs of the chair. A dirty sack covered his head, concealing his face. The scene sent a pang of sorrow through Anna's chest—he was just a kid, a child caught in HYDRA’s nightmare.

Without a second’s hesitation, she hurried over to him, pulling out her knife and cutting through the ropes that bound him. Once his hands were free, she gently shook him, trying to rouse him from unconsciousness. “Hey?” she called softly, pressing her hands against his cheeks, trying to wake him.

There was no response. Her pulse quickened, fear creeping in. “Come on,” she urged again, her voice edged with desperation. She pressed her fingers to the side of his neck, searching for a sign of life. A breath of relief escaped her when she felt a pulse, steady but faint.

She quickly hoisted the boy onto her back, his small, limp body barely registering as she moved with determination. She met Bucky in the hallway, where he had been keeping watch. His eyes instantly went to the boy on her back, and he nodded. They moved toward the stairs, their steps quiet but hurried. They had to get out—now. But just as they neared the stairwell, something gnawed at Anna’s gut, an instinct she couldn’t shake. It was too easy. Her heart pounded, and she stopped abruptly.

“Wait,” she called out, putting the boy down carefully on the floor.

Bucky turned to her, his brow furrowed in concern. “What? Are you okay?”

Anna scanned the area, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. The silence was deafening, the absence of guards or security baffling. It felt wrong. Too clean. Too controlled. “This is too easy,” she murmured, her voice tense.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed as he took in their surroundings again. No alarms, no guards, no resistance. “I know,” he agreed, his voice low. “So we have to get out before their show starts.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, a soft click echoed through the room. The lights flickered ominously, and the walls seemed to hum with a low vibration. Both of them tensed, realizing in that moment—they had walked into a trap.

“You think this is too easy?” A low, gruff voice behind them said.

Bucky’s instincts kicked in instantly. He lunged forward, placing himself between Anna and the oncoming danger as bullets whizzed past, ricocheting off the walls. His metal arm braced in front of him, deflecting a few of the shots. Anna was already in action too, her protective instincts matching his. She crouched low, quickly throwing up a shimmering force field around the terrified boy they were sent to rescue.

"Stay down," she whispered to the boy, her voice calm despite the chaos.

The moment Anna stood, a dangerous shift filled the air. Eight men now faced them, blocking any chance of escape. Bucky’s grip tightened around his weapon, his eyes darting toward Anna just as he noticed her posture change. Her demeanor darkened, confidence radiating from her as she cracked her joints and knuckles. It wasn’t the Anna he’d been shielding moments ago—this was her fierce, relentless side.

“Which one do you wanna take down?” she asked, her voice low, charged with adrenaline.

Bucky shot her a sidelong glance, catching the menacing smile tugging at her lips. He knew that smile all too well. It signaled that things were about to get intense. “I can take them all down,” he replied with a cocky smirk.

Her eyes gleamed with challenge. “Not if I do it first.”

Anna launched herself forward like a bolt of lightning. Her fists glowed with energy, and she slammed her bolstered force into the two men on her left, sending them crashing into the wall with brutal efficiency. Before the third man could even react, she spun around and took him out with a powerful punch to his midsection, his body crumpling to the floor.

Bucky, matching her speed, was already in motion. His gun was a blur as he fired at the two men in front of him. The first went down immediately with a clean shot to the shoulder, the second barely had time to blink before Bucky disarmed him with a swift punch, sending the gun spiraling from his grip. In one fluid motion, Bucky flipped the man onto his back, knocking him out cold.

The last man standing saw his comrades fall within seconds, fear flashing across his face. He hesitated, glancing between Bucky and Anna, unsure of which force was more terrifying. But Anna was already on him. She closed the distance with a predatory grace, grabbing him by the collar before slamming him into the ground, her forcefield flickering dangerously around her as she restrained herself from unleashing too much. They watched two men run out before she could finish her current handle.

Bucky holstered his gun, watching as Anna straightened up, her breathing calm despite the intensity of the fight. He gave her a look of admiration, wiping the sweat from his brow.

“You really had to show off, didn’t you?” Bucky teased, shaking his head, though there was a grin tugging at his lips.

Anna shrugged, a glint of amusement in her eyes. “You gotta keep up, Sergeant,” She shot him a wink before looking back at the downed enemies. 

Bucky laughed under his breath, stepping over the fallen men. “Fair enough. You’ve got the moves—but next time, I’m taking the lead.”

Anna shot him a playful glance, still catching her breath. “We’ll see, Soldier. We’ll see.”

"Two more left," Bucky muttered, adjusting his armor with a grim determination, his eyes scanning the area.

"Yep," Anna echoed, her voice calm but alert as they advanced carefully through the dimly lit building.

The two moved in perfect sync, side by side, their pace slow and deliberate, eyes darting around the shadowy corners, always watching each other’s backs. But then, as Anna took one more step, she felt something under her foot—a subtle, ominous crack. She froze instantly, her heart skipping a beat.

Bucky sensed the shift in her immediately. "What is it?"

Anna glanced down at her feet, dread washing over her. A crystalline substance had begun to spread across the floor beneath her boots. Its faint glow was unmistakable. Xylarium.

“It looks like a crystal…” she whispered, her voice trailing off. Before she could react, the effect took hold. Her body went slack, her knees buckling as an overwhelming wave of weakness hit her like a truck. The physical toll of their earlier fight, which she had been suppressing with her powers, now crashed into her all at once.

Her breath hitched. She tried to summon her force field, pushing with all her willpower, but nothing happened. Her energy felt like it was being siphoned from her veins, her abilities fading into the void.

Bucky spun around, his heart hammering. He rushed to her side, catching her before she collapsed completely. "Anna!" His voice was sharp, panic barely masked as he looked at the spreading crystal beneath her. Two men emerged from the shadows, weapons raised and eyes locked on Bucky and the now-vulnerable Anna. His grip tightened on his gun, eyes flicking between the approaching enemies. Bucky could see the struggle in Anna’s eyes as she tried to stand, her body weakened but her resolve unshaken. Even though the crystal had drained her powers, he knew she wasn’t the type to back down easily. She was still a fighter, even if it meant enduring every ounce of pain that came her way.

Anna pushed herself up, swaying slightly but refusing to fall. “I can still fight,” she muttered, clenching her fists. “Let’s end this shit.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, concern flickering across his face. “Anna, you don’t have to—”

“I’m not gonna let you have all the fun, Buck,” she interrupted, her voice steely despite the obvious strain. Her body ached, every muscle protesting. Without her powers, there was nothing dulling the sharp edges of each injury. But she gritted her teeth, ignoring it. She wasn’t about to let a little pain stop her.

Bucky gave her a long look, knowing better than to argue when she had that determined glint in her eyes. “Alright,” he said, reluctantly. “But you stay close. Stay behind me.”

Anna nodded, flexing her fingers to shake off the numbness creeping into them.

Two more enemies appeared at the end of the hallway, weapons raised. Bucky didn’t hesitate, firing off two shots to keep them at bay, but one managed to dodge, rushing toward them with a blade drawn. Bucky aimed again, but before he could fire, Anna stepped forward, throwing herself into the fight. She blocked the attacker’s first strike with her forearm, pain flaring as the force jolted through her body. Gritting her teeth, she spun low, sweeping the man’s legs out from under him. As he fell, she landed a hard punch to his ribs. The impact sent a jolt of agony up her arm, but she powered through it, adrenaline keeping her focused. Every move hurt—but she wasn’t about to stop.

The second man lunged toward her from behind, but Bucky was faster. He grabbed the attacker mid-stride, slamming him into the wall with his metal arm. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Anna, panting from the effort, winced as she stood upright. Bucky’s eyes flicked to her, concern etched in his features. “You good?”

She nodded, wiping sweat from her brow. “I’m good.” But it was clear from the way she moved that every hit, every strain of the fight was costing her. 

Bucky stepped closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

As they cautiously moved through the dark hallway, Anna felt a flicker of hope that they might actually make it out. But that thought was quickly dashed when a figure emerged from the shadows, blocking their path. Bucky instinctively moved in front of Anna and the boy, gun raised, but before he could react, the enemy lunged at Anna, hands outstretched. She barely had time to react as the man grabbed her by the throat, fingers tightening around her neck, cutting off her air.

“Anna!” Bucky shouted, rage igniting in him as he rushed forward, but the enemy was quicker. The man’s grip was strong, and Anna’s vision began to blur as she struggled against the hold, clawing at his hands, gasping for breath.

She could feel every pain intensify as panic set in. She couldn’t conjure a force field to protect herself, and the sheer physicality of the situation hit her harder than any blow she had taken before. Her heart raced, but deep down, a fire ignited. She couldn’t let this be the end. In her desperation, Anna focused all her strength on one simple but powerful move. With a sudden twist of her body, she brought her knee up hard into the man’s gut. The impact sent him stumbling backward, loosening his grip just enough for her to gasp for air.

“Bucky!” she cried, her voice hoarse as she tried to catch her breath, but there was no time to lose. The enemy was still on his feet, recovering fast, and Anna knew they had to act quick.

Bucky sprang into action, not waiting for an invitation. He lunged at the attacker, grabbing the man’s arm and twisting it behind his back. “You made a big mistake putting your hands on her!” Bucky growled, his voice a low thunder.

Anna, still gasping for air, forced herself to stand, her body protesting with every movement. She watched as Bucky wrestled with the man, using his strength to keep him at bay. But the enemy fought back, throwing an elbow into Bucky’s ribs, staggering him just enough for the man to break free.

With adrenaline coursing through her veins, Anna stepped forward, her resolve hardening. She couldn’t just stand by. She couldn't let pain dictate her actions. Anna lunged at the man again, this time with renewed determination. She sidestepped his wild swing and landed a solid punch to his face, staggering him back. As he stumbled, she followed up with a swift kick to his knee, knocking him down to the floor.

“Stay freaking down!” she shouted, panting heavily, but a part of her felt alive again. Even without her powers, she could still hold her own in a fight.

Bucky, regaining his composure, moved in quickly, pinning the man to the ground with his knee. “You alright?” he asked, concern flashing in his eyes as he glanced at Anna.

“Yeah, just... a little shaken,” she replied, rubbing her throat where the man had held her. The pain was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the rush of adrenaline that still surged through her.

Bucky nodded, his expression softening as he glanced at the boy, who was still huddled behind them, wide-eyed and shaken. “We need to keep moving,” he urged, pulling Anna closer as they prepared to advance.

To say it was a success was an understatement. The mission had pushed them to their limits, but they’d gotten the kid out alive, and that was what mattered most. Once they reached the hotel, Bucky gently settled the boy onto his bed, the child already drifting off into an exhausted sleep. Bucky glanced at him, relieved that the worst was over for now.

Anna, on the other hand, quietly retreated to her room. She could feel the soreness in her muscles as she closed the door behind her, leaning against it with a deep sigh. Her hand instinctively went to her pocket, her fingers brushing against the cool surface of the crystal that had nearly cost her everything. She pulled it out, the pale glow of its surface catching the faint light from the bedside lamp.

The crystal. 

She stared at it, its shimmering facets both beautiful and ominous. Her brow furrowed as she tried to understand its significance—what was it? Why had it drained her powers so completely? She bit her lip, turning it over in her hand, feeling a deep unease settle in her chest. It wasn’t just a random object; it had felt purposeful, almost as if it had been designed to target her.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, she rubbed the back of her neck, wincing slightly at the lingering ache. Her thoughts drifted back to Bucky—how he had fought for her, how he had shielded both her and the boy, how his voice had cut through the chaos when he realized she was in danger. She hated feeling like a liability, and yet the memory of his steady hand on her shoulder when they had finally walked out brought a flicker of comfort.

Anna sighed again, setting the crystal down on the table beside her bed. Whatever it was, she’d figure it out eventually. But for now, it lingered in her thoughts like an unsolved puzzle, casting a shadow over her. The silence between them on the way back from the mission had been heavy—none of them had known what to say, not even her. 

That silence weighed on Bucky the most.

He had watched her the entire ride back, noticing how quiet she had become, how the usual spark in her eyes had dimmed. It was completely opposite to how she normally was—vibrant, always with a quip ready to defuse the tension or lighten the mood. But tonight, she had been distant, lost in her own world.

Bucky leaned against the doorframe of his own room, staring at the closed door of Anna’s across the hall. The mission had shaken her, he could tell. She was tough, no question about that. But the way she had fought through the pain, without her powers, without any protection… it had taken a toll.

And the crystal. He didn’t know much about it, but whatever it was, it had unnerved her. He could see it in her eyes as she clutched it in her hand. The way she looked at it as though it was more than just an object—it was a threat. A reminder of her vulnerability. A part of him feared that whatever was on her mind, it was bigger than the mission or the crystal. Maybe it was the near-death experience. Maybe it was the realization that, without her powers, she was vulnerable. Just like the rest of them.

He was taken aback when Anna’s door suddenly swung open, the sound breaking the stillness of the hallway. Bucky hadn’t expected her to come out, and from the wide look in her eyes, she hadn’t expected him to be standing there either. Both of them took a small step back, caught off guard, the air thick with unspoken words. They stood frozen, neither knowing what to say, unsure who should speak first.

For a moment, the silence stretched, the tension hanging between them. Then Anna, as always, broke the quiet with a simple question, her voice soft but steady. "You wanna drink a beer?"

Bucky blinked, studying her eyes, trying to read what she wasn’t saying. There was something there, behind the exhaustion, the unease. She was offering peace, a moment to escape the weight of what had happened, even if only for a little while.

He nodded, his expression softening. "Sure."

Anna gave a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes but was enough to ease the tension between them. She turned and disappeared back into her room for a moment, and when she reappeared, she held two bottles of beer in her hands. Bucky leaned against the doorframe, watching her closely as she handed him one, her fingers brushing his for just a moment longer than necessary.

They stood in the balcony of her room, leaning on the rail, each taking a swig in comfortable silence, the tension slowly dissolving into something more familiar, more easy. The quiet between them now wasn’t heavy—it was filled with a mutual understanding, a shared experience that didn’t need words.

“How you feeling?” Bucky finally asked, his voice low but genuine.

Anna glanced at him, shrugging her shoulders. “Good?” she answered, unsure of what to answer. “You?”

Bucky looked down at his bottle before meeting her eyes again. “No, you’re not.”

“Are you the mind reader now?” she questioned, trying to loosen the tension. If it’s possible.

“I don’t need powers to read you,” he said, eyes flickering.

“I always said I hated what I had,” Anna started, her voice quieter now as she licked her bottom lip, her gaze distant. She took a slow breath, as if carefully choosing her words. “But when I lost it, it was... something else. I didn’t like being vulnerable. Or a burden.”

Bucky watched her, his expression softening. He knew what it was like to feel that way—like something vital had been stripped from you, leaving you exposed in a world that could easily crush you. But hearing it from her, someone he had always seen as unshakable, hit him differently. “You’re not a burden,” he said firmly, his voice cutting through the quiet. “Not to me. Not to any of us.”

Anna glanced at him, her eyes heavy with emotion. “I felt like one, though. When that crystal... whatever it was... took everything away, I couldn’t do anything. I felt useless.”

Bucky stepped closer, his gaze steady on hers. “You weren’t useless. You fought, Anna. Without your powers, you still fought through the pain. And you saved that kid. You finished the show,” he smirked, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

She looked away for a moment, shaking her head with a faint smile on her lips, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her bottle. “I couldn’t keep up.”

“You still did,” Bucky replied, his voice soft. “You don’t have to carry that alone,” Bucky added, his tone serious but gentle. “I’m here. Always.”

She held his gaze for a moment, then nodded, the corners of her mouth lifting in a small but genuine smile. “I know.”

The silence between them grew heavier, filled with something neither of them could deny. Bucky’s eyes lingered on Anna, her face soft, her lips parted just slightly. He took a step closer without thinking, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She didn’t move away.

He leaned in, their faces inches apart. Her breath was warm against his skin, and for a moment, nothing else mattered. He was about to kiss her, but just before their lips touched, Bucky hesitated.

He pulled back, jaw tight, and took a step away. “I—” he started, voice low. “We should get some rest.”

Anna blinked, still caught in the moment, but she smiled softly. “Right,” she whispered.

Bucky nodded, unsure of what else to say. The moment had passed, but something between them had undeniably shifted. As soon as he got to his room, he closed the door behind him and let out a frustrated sigh. Then, with a quick, sharp motion, he slammed his head against the door.

“Stupid,” he muttered under his breath, the dull ache in his forehead nothing compared to the frustration building inside him. Was it stupidity? Or just cowardice?

The ride back to the compound was silent. Bucky drove, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, while Anna sat beside him, staring out the window. The landscape passed in a blur, but neither seemed to notice. The weight of their unspoken words hung heavy between them. When they finally arrived at the compound, the familiar sights and sounds should have brought a sense of relief, but instead, it felt hollow as they gathered in the meeting room to give their mission report.

“We have to send it to the lab,” Steve said, his voice firm as he carefully took the crystal from Anna's hand. “We need to find out what this is.”

Anna nodded, her eyes lingering on the crystal for a moment before looking away. There was a heaviness in her expression, the weight of what had happened still fresh.

Steve glanced over at Bucky, noticing the way he hung his head, his gaze flicking over to Anna every few seconds. His concern was obvious, though he tried to keep it hidden.

“What about you, Buck?” Steve asked gently. “Anything you wanna add to the report?”

Bucky hesitated, his jaw tightening. For a second, he thought about the night before, the way he’d pulled back, the way everything felt different now. But he shook it off, forcing himself to focus on the mission.

“No,” Bucky finally muttered, his voice low. “Nothing to add.”

Steve studied him for a moment, sensing there was more Bucky wasn’t saying, but he didn’t push. Instead, he gave a small nod, his attention shifting back to the crystal.

“We’ll figure this out,” Steve said, as much to himself as to them. “But, you guys did a good job. You two should rest.”

Anna nodded at Steve before heading to her room, her mind racing. She tried to reach Tony, hoping to talk things over, but the call went straight to voicemail. He was in Jordan, off on some mission, and she understood that. But what she couldn’t grasp was Bucky’s actions—why had he pulled away when they were so close? Had she done something wrong?

Frustrated, she shook her head, trying to toss the thoughts out of her mind, but they clung to her. As night fell, the weight of uncertainty pressed down on her. She twisted and turned in her bed, the sheets tangled around her, her mind replaying the moment over and over.

She wanted answers, clarity—something to make sense of everything that had happened. After a long moment of indecision, Anna finally decided to confront her feelings. She walked to Bucky’s room, pacing back and forth in front of his door, her heart racing with uncertainty.

Standing there, she took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts. Get your shit together, Anna. She cursed herself for hesitating.

She raised her hand and knocked softly, almost timidly. The sound echoed in the quiet hallway, and for a moment, she almost turned to walk away. But she forced herself to stay, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for a response.

Bucky peeped through the crack in the door, his heart pounding when he saw her standing there. Without a word, he opened it wide enough for her to slip inside. Anna stepped in, standing just a few feet away, her gaze steady on him.

“Why didn’t you kiss me?” she asked, her voice firm but laced with vulnerability.

His eyes widened, and he struggled to form a response. Words danced on the tip of his tongue, but nothing came out. His mind raced, searching for the right thing to say, something that wouldn’t hurt her. “Anna,” he finally managed to call her softly, almost pleading.

“Just answer me, Bucky.” Her eyes were glossy, and he could see the mix of hope and fear in them.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “I… I didn’t want to ruin things,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought... I thought it was better to wait.”

“Wait what?” Her brows knitted, disbelief flashing across her face. “That was two times you held back. We both know that. The first in Wakanda and the second in the hotel. That’s too much of a coincidence.”

Bucky’s heart raced as he realized the weight of her words. He opened his mouth to respond, but no sound came out. The truth hung in the air between them, heavy and undeniable.

“Do you really want me to believe that you’re just waiting for the right moment?” Anna pressed, her voice firm. “Because it feels like you’re pushing me away instead.”

Bucky sighed, feeling the vulnerability of the moment. He was about to answer but she cut him off. “I told you I feel something with you,” she said, recalling their genuine moment. “I think I know what it is now.”

Before he could say anything more, Anna stepped closer, her resolve igniting something between them. In a sudden, impulsive moment, she reached up and kissed him, her lips brushing against his with an urgency that took him by surprise.

The moment felt like they were back in Wakanda as Bucky responded instinctively, his arms wrapping around her waist, drawing her closer. He had thought he would hold back, but in that moment, all the fears and doubts melted away.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and wide-eyed, Anna looked up at him, her expression a mix of determination and hope. Her hands grazed his cheek. “That’s what it is.”

Bucky stared down at her, heart racing. Maybe this was the moment he’d been waiting for after all.

“Let me know if you’re ready to take it up,” she said, whispering against his lips. 

She looked once more into his eyes, with the vulnerability they both have, before letting go but Bucky didn’t let her, grabbing her by the arm and crashing his lips on her once more. Now that he knows what she tastes like, her soft, sweet lips, he’s not going to let it go. His arm went to her waist and the other at the crook of her neck. Her hands went still at her side before cupping his face.

Bucky took the lead, guiding her backward until they both felt the soft mattress beneath them. He hovered over her for a moment, eyes locked with hers, before resting his forehead against hers. Anna’s lashes fluttered, her gaze full of anticipation.

“Wow,” she murmured, her voice a mixture of surprise and awe. “That answer was… quick.”

Bucky let out a soft chuckle, lying down beside her and wrapping her in his arms. “When it comes to you,” he said, voice steady and genuine, “I don’t need to think about it.”

“Why?” she asked, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on his chest as she looked up at him.

He paused, his faint smile carrying a hint of old memories. “When I first met you on that bridge, I was still under HYDRA’s control. They… they specifically ordered me to kill you.” He swallowed, eyes searching hers. “But when I was about to… I couldn’t do it. No matter how strong their grip was on me, I just couldn’t bring myself to hurt you.”

Anna’s eyes softened, her fingers pausing as she took in his words, her heart swelling with understanding and something deeper. 

“Maybe… even then, some part of me knew,” he whispered, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “That you were meant to be more than just someone I was ordered to hurt. You were… meant to save me.”

Anna was lost for words, her mouth slightly parted as she searched his face. Emotions flickered through her eyes—surprise, understanding, and something more. She reached up, gently cupping his cheek, her thumb tracing a soft line across his skin.

“You saved me too,” she finally whispered, her voice barely audible. The weight of her words lingered between them, filling the silence with an unspoken depth. 

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, resting his forehead against hers again. For once, he felt at peace, as if all the noise and chaos that had haunted him had finally settled. They stayed that way, wrapped in each other’s arms, neither needing to say anything more. In that quiet moment, words weren’t necessary; they both knew what they meant to each other.

>>Prev<<

[swan-of-sunrise]

His Girl Friday

Summary: At Tony Stark's forty-fourth birthday party, the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist and his longtime personal assistant finally address what's remained unspoken but secretly acknowledged between them for many, many years.

Pairings: Tony Stark X F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first time writing a Tony-centric fic and I had a lot of fun with it, so thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy!

His Girl Friday May 29th, 2014 Avengers Tower, New York City (Fanfiction Masterlist)

Being employed as Anthony Edward Stark’s personal assistant was a challenging and often times perilous job, and that was before he’d announced himself to the world as Iron Man. But (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was no ordinary personal assistant; she stood by the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist when he vowed to stop producing weapons at Stark Industries after being imprisoned by terrorists for three long months, she stuck with him when his secret illness and subsequent erratic behavior drove nearly everyone else away, and she flat-out refused to believe he’d been killed at the hands of the Mandarin. It was evident that Tony Stark was the closest thing she had to a best friend. Lately, however, she’d begun to notice a significant shift in her feelings towards her employer, feelings that definitely went beyond friendship and feelings that she suspected he was feeling as well; she tried her best to keep them at bay, fearful of ruining such a meaningful friendship and throwing away the only job she’d ever truly enjoyed on a baseless suspicion, and thankfully, there were always plenty of distractions to keep herself preoccupied with in her unique line of work.

From her place at the back of the room, (Y/N) scanned over the enormous checklist in her hands to see if she’d missed anything important; the guests were chatting, dancing and taking full advantage of the open bar while the DJ was playing all of Tony’s favorite songs in honor of his forty-forth birthday. All in all, not one of the worst birthday parties I’ve ever planned for him, she thought to herself, a reluctant smile playing on her lips as she recalled the disastrous thirty-ninth birthday party that resulted in the Malibu mansion’s near destruction at the hands of Tony and Rhodey. That particular birthday party was the reason why she’d initially been a little nervous at the prospect of the Avengers attending the soiree, but it only took a brief glance around the bustling common room to see that they were the perfect guests; Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson played pool with Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, while Bruce Banner hovered near the back of the enamored crowd of people that surrounded a slightly-inebriated Thor and listened to his enthusiastic re-tellings of the adventures he’d had on Asgard. Pepper and Dr. Helen Cho were seated at the bar and chatted over glasses of Chardonnay while Happy was hyper-focused on his phone, no doubt catching up on an episode of Downton Abbey. With an inward chuckle, the personal assistant returned her attention to her lengthy list of tasks as the classic rock music continued to play.

“Hey beautiful, how ‘bout a dance?”

“Sorry, but I’m worki-” (Y/N) looked up to see Tony Stark himself standing before her, looking as handsome as ever in his expertly tailored black tuxedo and flashing her his signature grin that never failed to make her heart skip a beat. “Hey, you. How’re you enjoying your birthday party?”

Tony tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged noncommittally. “It’s one of your better-executed extravaganzas, I will say, but it would absolutely skyrocket to the top if I could spend the rest of the evening with my favorite personal assistant.”

(Y/N) arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Tony, I’m your only personal assistant.”

“Exactly, which meant you get the title by default. Yay you!” The billionaire gave her a small applause and she simply heaved an exasperated but fond sigh at his typical theatrics. “C’mon, Girl Friday, you’ve been working your ass off all night and the Birthday Boy says that you should take a well-deserved break.” As his trademark smirk softened into a gentle smile, Tony took his hand out of his pocket and offered it to her in a clear invitation to join him. “Please?”

Although her heart was screaming at her to take his hand and allow him to whisk her into an evening of laughter and coy flirtations, the rational part of her knew that she had a job to complete and that anything more than a friendly conversation could jeopardize their platonic relationship. Masking her disappointment with a shrug and apologetic smile, (Y/N) shook her head and held up her checklist for him to see. “I’m sorry, Tony, but I still have so much to do; I’ve gotta do another check-in with Maria and the security team downstairs, make sure that the pastry chef brings out the cake on time, that the waiters serve the guests champagne at the right tempera-Tony!” She exclaimed when Tony’s hand shot out and snatched the checklist out of her grasp. “Anthony Edward Stark, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting rid of an obstacle,” Tony easily replied, holding the checklist above his head and snickering when she unsuccessfully attempted to snatch it back. “Seriously, Girl Friday, just one dance and I’ll let you get back to your boring planning. I’ll even avoid bugging you the rest of the night if it means I can spend a little time with one of my best friends.”

Tony’s rare sincerity softened (Y/N)’s heart, and she felt her resolve crumble as she stared into his gleaming brown eyes. “All right, one dance. Do you ever get tired with always getting your way?”

“Nope!” Tony happily popped the ‘p’ and tucked the checklist into the pocket of his tuxedo jacket before offering her his hand once again, and (Y/N) smiled to herself as the billionaire escorted her to the edge of the dance floor and whisked her into a slow dance to Bon Jovi’s ‘Bed of Roses.’ The warmth of his hand on the curve of her waist combined with the feel of his body brushing up against hers caused her heartbeat to quicken its pace, and she silently prayed that he wouldn’t notice the effect he had on her. “You know, I was being serious before. You’ve truly outdone yourself tonight, (Y/N), and can I just say that you look amazing?” Tony’s eyes briefly glanced down at her red chiffon evening gown and he gave her an appreciative nod. “Mm-hmm, hot-rod red is definitely your color. So, what’s your secret? How is it you can organize and schedule a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist’s entire life and look drop-dead gorgeous while doing it?”

(Y/N) chuckled in amusement, the skirt of her gown swirling around her legs as he twirled her in a circle. “We all have our own superpowers; you fight aliens and terrorists in a red and gold Nitinol suit, and I oversee the hectic life of the man inside the suit to the best of my abilities.”

“Not sure which is the more dangerous job, to be honest.” Tony smirked, expertly guiding her back into his arms and holding her slightly closer than he had before. “But if I could do that death-glare that you’ve perfected over the years, then that would sure make my job a helluva lot easier and people would think twice before messing with Iron Man.” (Y/N) arched a brow and in response, Tony snickered. “Yep, there’s the death-glare!”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but this death-glare is tailor-made for Tony Stark and Tony Stark alone,” (Y/N) replied with a wry smile, and the billionaire’s grin widened as she looked into his sparkling brown eyes. They danced together in a comfortable yet expectant silence, almost as if one was waiting for the other to speak first, but both remained quiet while the 80’s power ballad continued to play; it wasn’t until she noticed the way he was biting his lower lip – one of the few tell-tale signs that there was something weighing heavy on the billionaire’s mind – that (Y/N) finally mustered her courage to address him. “You got a lot of cool presents this year, not to mention hundreds of thousands of dollars in charitable donations gifted in your name. Not too shabby, huh?”

Tony shrugged and replied, “I’m a sucker for gifts and I’m beyond stoked that we’ve raised so much in donations, but…” His eyes briefly flicked downwards to focus on the fluttering movement of her chiffon skirt, suddenly appearing as anxious as (Y/N) felt. “Can we play a quick round of Hypothetical Hold’em?”

A nostalgic feeling washed over (Y/N) at the mention of their old game. Back in the more impulsive and less responsible days of Tony Stark, it had been an effective form of decision-making created out of the billionaire’s respect for her opinions and general advice; they hadn’t played very many rounds in the years since he announced to the world that he was Iron Man and while she was happy that he’d grown and matured so much over the years, a small part of her missed their little game. “I’m a little rusty but I think I’ve still got it. Shoot.”

“A guy I know, Walter, he’s got just about everything he could possibly want in life, except the only thing he really wants is something he can’t have. You see,” Tony expertly dipped her and her breath hitched at the sudden movement, their eyes connecting as he continued. “There’s this woman – let’s call her Hildy – and he’s been in love with her for a while. And Hildy, she’s goddamn fantastic: smart, kind, funny, gorgeous, the whole enchilada.”

Heart sinking into her stomach, (Y/N) mustered up a small smile to hide her pain while he slowly righted her. “Hildy sounds wonderful. So, what’s stopping this Walter guy from telling her how he feels?”

“A couple of things, actually.” He took a deep breath. “She’s not just one of his best friends, but…you see, she’s also his personal assistant.”

The din of the party faded away as (Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock at the billionaire’s candid words; if not for the seriousness written across Tony’s face and the longing gleam that had formed in his brown eyes while he stared into hers, she would’ve assumed that he was pulling her leg. But she knew him, knew him far better than almost anyone else in the world, and it was clear as day that he was speaking directly from the heart. “…Oh.”

Tony nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a tried and true attempt to hide behind a more lighthearted façade. “She’s taken such good care of him. He was a loose cannon for a long time…still is, in a way, but she’s gotten him through all the tough spots. He’s good friends with some ex-assassins, a super-soldier and a literal god, but she’s the strongest person he’s ever met and the only person he could ever imagine giving his heart to. But as much as he loves her, he’s not willing to roll the dice and risk losing her from his life forever; that’s why he…” Tony cast his gaze downwards and his hand gripped hers tight. “That’s why I never said anything before.”

“So, what changed?” She whispered as she slowly moved the hand that had been resting on his shoulder to press against the spot where his arc reactor once resided, feeling his rapid heartbeat and silently marveling at how perfectly it matched her own.

“Looking across the room and seeing you with your checklist; you’ve planned over a dozen successful birthday parties for me, but that didn’t stop you from treating tonight as if it was the first. It’s one of the thousand ways you show how much you care about me, and that’s what gave me the courage to walk to the back of the room and finally ask you for a dance.”

The booming opening chords of AC/DC’s ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ filled the room and while more guests took to the dance floor for the lively song, (Y/N) grabbed Tony’s hand and practically dragged him away from the crowd, not stopping until they were tucked away from any prying eyes in Captain Rogers’ nearby office. When she closed the door behind them and turned around, she was met with an apprehensive-looking Tony and her subtle smile grew into an all-out grin as her eyes filled with happy tears. “You love me?”

“I love you,” Tony replied, his voice growing steady and his eyes filling with confidence at her obvious happiness. “C’mon, Girl Friday, you’re killing me here. Do you love me or what?”

Beaming with joy, (Y/N) brought her hands up to cup his face between them and nodded. “You’re such an asshat, but I love you with all my heart.” Tony’s grin grew to match her own and he leaned forward to kiss her, but was halted by her fingers covering his eager lips. “And in the spirit of covering both our asses, I’d like to take this moment to formally tenure my resignation, Mr. Stark.”

“Duly noted, Miss (Y/L/N). And since I’m such a good ex-boss, I’ll send your resume and a letter of recommendation to a certain defrosted super-soldier who could use all the assistance he can get.”

“Becoming Captain America’s personal assistant? It’ll be a cake-walk, but at least I’ll have my favorite hot mess to come home to.”

(Y/N) moved her hand and giggled at how quickly Tony’s arms wrapped around her waist to tug her closer, but her amusement soon gave way to passion as their lips finally met in a long overdue kiss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I figured that we all could use a little fluff, and what better way to deliver it than in a friends-to-lovers trope-fest? Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and I hope that you have a wonderful holiday season!

Fanfiction Masterlist

Marvel Taglist: @brooke0297​

All Works: @crowleysqueenofhell​ @momc95​ @groovy-lady

[airas-story]

Pleaseeee Omg STEPHEN trying to know if Tony is Edward and being all mysterious and shit omggg.

Pleaseeee tell me there's more? Can this consistute as TWO ASKS for like the next two parts of this?? I just want to know what he says or how he puts his foot in his mouth or if he figures it out. Or does Tony figure it out first??? GOD I'm EXCITED

Haha, well, this only counts as one prompt... but given there were like three prompts for this story ahead of you and a few more prompts after you... I figure that evens out. As it is, you've got the answers to your questions in earlier fills, but here's some progression anyways! The previous pieces of this installment: Parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, and eight. (This has gotten so long... I think it's between this and the college AU which is longest.)

Stephen paused at Stark’s voice coming down the hall. “I don’t care if you get it,” he was saying. “I’m allowed to change my mind.”

“You’ve been spending months complaining about him,” Colonel Rhodes’ voice responded. “You fought with Steve every other month about assigning someone else to meeting with him. And now you’re… what, dating him?”

They were talking about him, Stephen realized.

“I don’t need to explain the evolution of my relationship,” Stark’s voice was exasperated. “I don’t know why you’re trying to talk me out of this, anyways. You kept telling me to grow up.”

Colonel Rhodes scoffed. “I didn’t use those words.”

“You just meant them.”

Colonel Rhodes didn’t respond to that. “I’m just saying. Hate sex is not a good solution,” he said. “I’d prefer you two hate each other and stay professional then hate each other and add ugly emotional entanglements to it.”

Stark scoffed. “Seriously? There’s been no sex. And if there ever is sex, it won’t be hate sex. Just… trust that Strange and I know what we’re doing.”

Colonel Rhodes sighed audibly.

“Rhodey,” Stark continued, this time softer. “Maybe it took a while to realize, but he’s added a bright spot to my life the past few months. He made me smile.”

Stephen smiled at the quiet acknowledgment that Tony really had liked ‘Vincent’.

“Really? In between all the arguments? Could have fooled me.”

Stephen wondered why Stark seemed so hesitant to explain their identity miscommunication, the existence of ‘Edward’ and ‘Vincent’ and the opportunity it gave them to bond without the tension that so characterized their in person meetings.

“Yes,” Stark said quietly. “So, in light of that, I’m going to give Strange a chance. I don’t need your permission for that. So, with all respect… stay out of it.”

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

What Happened Last Christmas?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61506031 by StarkxPosting (TwinkJimKirk) “Yeah, that’s not your mom, kid. He gaped before glaring at the older man. “Come on, dude. I'm serious- I know what my mom looks like, and that is 100% her.” Tony raised an eyebrow, still looking at the screen “There's plenty of ways to explain it, kid. Maybe it's someone who just looked like her. Y’know, like a waffle-stomper or whatever it’s called.” “Oh my god. Do you mean a doppelganger?” He shrugged. “Whatever, same thing.” Peter screws his eyes shut in exasperation. “It really, really isn’t.” __ A typical Bio-Dad-Tony-Revelation fic, but it's Christmas. Words: 3129, Chapters: 1/4, Language: English Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Aunt May Parker (Marvel), (mentioned) Mary Parker, (Mentioned) Richard Parker, Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, James "Rhodey" Rhodes Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Christmas, Tony Stark Has a Heart, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Loves Peter Parker, Tony Stark Being an Idiot, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Revelations, Holidays, Accidental Baby Acquisition, lol, Father-Son Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant with Movie: Avengers: Infinity War (2018), infinity war didn't happen, why am I writing a Christmas Marvel fic like its 2017 read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/61506031

[mcfiddlestan]

Staying the Night Prompts

❝ i don’t have nightmares when you’re there. ❞ (Loki/Bucky)

“We should probably get some rest.”

Bucky managed a lazy grin and an equally lazy nod at Steve’s words, but made no effort to rise from the long sofa in Stark’s penthouse lounge. The tower wasn’t exactly home, but it was the place everyone came to recuperate and get a warm meal, especially after returning from a mission. Bucky and Steve had only come back a few hours ago from their latest mission, providing some not necessarily needed support for Shuri and the Wakandans. Who knew stopping human traffickers could cause so many body aches. A slight shift on the seat to sit up and he knew there was definitely a bruised rib somewhere. 

“I’ll head back in a bit.” He said with a soft groan, falling back against the cushions.

“Aren’t you tired?” Steve questioned from beside him. When he frowned the cut above his eyebrow stung and he tapped a finger to it a few times, pulling his hand back to look at it. Not bleeding anymore. 

Bucky nodded even as he verbally answered, “Yeah, exhausted. I just wanna finish my beer.” He gave the bottle a little shake. “It’s nice to be back within four solid walls though.” And to sit in front of a fire he didn’t have to start or worry about putting out, he thought, as he stared at the flames in the hearth before them.

“Sure is. No rough blankets on the ground tonight. Well,” Steve sighed after a moment. He reached out and clapped a hand to Bucky’s shoulder. “Thanks for covering me out there. You saved my ass.” Bucky lifted bright blue eyes to his, narrowed an eye. “Again,” Steve conceded with that boyish smirk.

Bucky chuckled, nodded, and wished Steve a good night as he brought the Budweiser bottle to his lips. Steve slowly rose with a groan and walked directly into the waiting elevator.

It still amazed Bucky that Stark willingly allowed this ragtag group of vigilantes, spies, a former winter soldier, and others to freely come and go from his tower, using it as a makeshift Avengers Hotel. The billionaire himself kept a small apartment among the smaller bungalows at the place he’d once used as a homebase for his company, but, for the most part, Stark slept in a room off his lab, never too far away from his work — if he slept at all. But everyone left that to Bruce and Rhodey to deal with.

Finishing off his beer, Bucky pushed himself to his feet, careful not to strain any more muscles than he already had, and after rinsing it out, deposited the bottle into the recycle bin. Judging by its nearly full capacity, the tower’s rooms must’ve been equally full tonight. Too wiped to think about who might be milling around in the morning, Bucky headed for the elevator, stifling a yawn. He watched the numbers slowly descend to his floor — the same as Steve’s, but on the other opposite side of the building — contemplating how long he might let himself sleep before he got started on his report the next day.

He was planning it all out as he walked to his door, absently pulling out the key, and unlocking the door. The moment he stepped inside he sensed something was different than when he left it. The apartment assigned to him was larger than the one he kept in Brooklyn, but it was just as sparsely decorated. In his line of business, it wasn’t exactly ideal to plant roots or get attached to anything. The room here and now was lit only by the pale blue moonlight streaming through the tall, wide windows displaying the city and off in the distance, the Brooklyn Bridge.

Bucky wondered if he should’ve just gone home as he scanned the room and moved silently to the bedroom door. It was less than a half hour by subway. Pulling his gun from its strap, safety off, Bucky listened for any sounds even as his eyes scanned the area before pushing the door open and aiming the gun at his bed. 

Seeing the hint of pale fingers rising in a surrender gesture in the shadows of one corner, Bucky locked and re-holstered the gun with an exasperated noise. 

“What the fuck, Loki?”

Dressed in his usual casual outfit of a green tunic and black pants, Loki emerged from the corner and crossed his arms. “I was only awaiting your return. I didn’t realize you’d come in guns a-blazing like — what do they call them? Cowboys?”

Bucky scoffed and began to remove his gear, dumping it on the dark tufted chair beside his dresser. “What are you doing here? How’d you even get in?”

It was Loki’s turn to scoff. “Hello? I’m a god, remember? I can go anywhere I please. Your human locks are like Odin’s fatherly approval to me: nonexistent.”

Bucky jerked his head back. “Well, that got dark fast,” he muttered, finally dropping the last of his weapons. He gripped his shirt, tugging it free from his pants, then reached for his belt. “Is there something you need? ‘Cause I just got back from—”

“A mission in Wakanda, I know,” Loki finished, his voice lowered. “How is Shuri? I’ve missed…talking shop with her. Her technology is impressive. Even to an As—well, a former Asgardian.”

Bucky kicked off his second boot and stopped, watching Loki with more focused eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Loki raised his head, lifting a brow. “Must something be wrong? Are we not friends? Can’t I simply wish to welcome you—“

“Lokes.”

Loki took a long beat before he smirked, chuckling a little, and lowered to the foot of the bed. “Nothing’s wrong. Honestly. I was just…eager to say hello. Thought you might want to talk. Maybe shake off the mission. You must be hurt. I can hear you trying not to groan with every movement.”

Bucky went still then, realizing Loki was right, he moaned a little as he let out the breath he’d been holding. He was really feeling the aches now. As if his body knew the bed was so close. “I’m fine, Loki. It’s just taking a little longer for me to heal, that’s all. But, really, I’m just looking forward to collapsing into bed.” He moved to the dresser behind him to grab a pair of sweatpants and a fresh shirt from the drawers. 

“Oh, well, don’t let me get in your way.” Loki crossed one leg over the other, seemingly planting himself in that spot.

Bucky, with his back turned to Loki, grinned a little to himself, unbuttoning his pants and kicking them aside once they dropped. “We said we were gonna stop,” he said as he slipped on the sweatpants.

The silence was blaring behind him. To give Loki whatever time he needed, Bucky stripped off his shirt and slipped a clean one over his head, and piled his soiled clothes in the corner along with his socks.

“I know what we said,” came the reply finally. 

Tying the drawstring on his pants, Bucky turned to face Loki. He noted how Loki wouldn’t meet his eyes, turning his face away, toward the windows. The moon shone brighter at this angle, lighting up the part of Bucky’s room open to the windows. And Bucky could see Loki’s face now, that it was paler than usual, with dark circles under his eyes and his cheeks a little hollower than usual. 

Sensing his appointment with sleep was about to be delayed, Bucky crossed over to sit beside Loki on the bed. “So what’d you get up to while I was gone?” he asked casually.

“Not much,” Loki answered with a shrug, still looking out the window. “Worked on some spells, conjured up some new tinctures. Avoided Thor.”

Bucky laughed quietly, the bed shaking with the movement. “He was here?”

“Only for a few hours, Hail Frigga,” Loki said with a dry laugh that grew more genuine when Bucky chuckled too. 

“Loki,” Bucky murmured after their laughter died down.

Loki’s smile faded, and he lowered his eyes. “Please,” he all but whispered. 

Bucky grinned lopsidedly, but bit his lip. “You said no more.”

“I know. I lied.”

Bucky snickered and dropped his head on Loki’s shoulder. He was just so tired. “You told me not to let you anymore,” he whispered.

Loki turned his head, nuzzling his cheek against Bucky’s nose. “You shouldn’t listen to me. I’m an idiot.”

“Lokes,” he snorted. Bucky slipped his hand into Loki’s, felt his cold skin cool against his warm palm. “You’re not an idiot. And I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I didn’t listen to you.”

Loki nudged him with his elbow. Bucky only groaned softly and closed his heavy eyes, comfortable enough in Loki’s presence to let his guard down. 

“I’m barely hanging on here, babe. You should probably go back to your room.”

Loki turned his body toward Bucky’s, clutching his hand tightly between his own in his lap. “I don’t want to. Just one more night, James. Please? I know what I’m asking…”

“Do you?” Bucky sat up and released Loki’s hand, so he could balance himself.

For the first time that night, Loki met Bucky’s gaze. Even through his tiredness and the pale moonlight, Bucky could see Loki was equally as exhausted as he. He hasn’t slept, he realized with a spark of concern. Hard as he tried, Bucky couldn’t stop himself from worrying about Loki.

“Look, Loki—”

He held up a hand to cut Bucky off. “No, I know. I know I don’t make this any easier for you.” He uncrossed his legs and turned away from Bucky. “I don’t mean to be selfish, you know. I don’t mean to hurt you. It’s just that…”

Bucky waited for the answer, but none came. “What?” he urged, nudging Loki’s arm with his fingers.

Loki inhaled deeply and turned his eyes to Bucky’s again, and with a quiver to his voice, he said, “I don’t have nightmares when you’re there.”

Bucky swallowed thickly. “Oh.” The revelation was one thing. They’d initially bonded over their shared experiences with torture and brainwashing. Few, if any, of the others could relate. But the tears clinging to Loki’s long black lashes was quite another. Bucky hadn’t seen Loki so vulnerable before. He wasn’t at all sure what to do, but to scratch at his head with the metal fingers, searching for the right words. “Um…”

Loki shifted and Bucky saw the moment he shut down and that cool mask slid into place. His dark emerald green eyes cleared instantly, his lips, already thin, thinned even further. “Forget it. Forget I said anything. Forget this ever happened. I’ll go.”

“No!” Bucky shouted the word, grasping for Loki’s arm as he rose and tugging so hard, the sleeve of his tunic ripping cut into the silence between them. “Shit!” Bucky shot up to his feet, but only stammered out an apology and held out the torn piece of his tunic to Loki.

Loki took it and clenched his jaw. “James, I’m getting rather mixed signals from you.” In one long sweep of his hand, Loki’s tunic was repaired and the ripped piece disappeared. “You won’t allow me to have a restful night’s sleep in your bed, yet you seem eager to quite literally rip my clothes off.”

Bucky slapped the non-metal palm to his face. “I swear, I didn’t mean to do that. And I was going to tell you that it’s fine, you can stay here. I just got a little thrown off by the tears in your eyes.” He started to turn away, but decided he had more to say. “And you know what? Speaking of mixed signals, what kind are you sending to me exactly? I mean, you know very well how I feel about you and you continuously torture me by coming to my room and begging to sleep — just sleep! — in my bed, beside me, all long legs and silky hair, and I’m doing my damndest to be a gentleman and be understanding because we are friends, but it’s fucking killing me when I wake up and there you are, just causally wrapped around my—“

It took Bucky’s brain a good five seconds to compute that his epic rant had been cut short by Loki, and that he was now currently being lovingly and tenderly kissed by the longtime object of his affection. As Loki’s lips pressed against his, Bucky slowly sank into the kiss, taking the opportunity to deepen it and pull Loki’s body against his.

Needing the air to breathe, and realizing what he was doing, Bucky took one giant step back. 

“What is happening right now?”

Loki swiped a finger across his bottom lip. “Well, something that was a long time coming, I think. Don’t you?”

Bucky relaxed, glared. “Don’t be a dick.” Loki cocked a brow, this time in confusion, and Bucky scoffed. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I mean. You’re practically BFFs with Stark and he’s the sassiest bitch in this place. So I know you’re learning some shit.” He looked up and caught the smile lighting up Loki’s face. “What does this mean?”

Loki’s expression turned thoughtful as he closed the distance between them and ran his hands up Bucky’s chest to wrap around his neck underneath the dark brown strands of his hair. “I think what it means, darling, is that your love is no longer unrequited.”

Bucky gawked at Loki. “Really?” he asked, his voice soft. Loki nodded and leaned in to kiss him again. But just as their lips touched Bucky sprang back. “Is this just because of the nightmares?”

Loki laughed, throwing his head back. “No. Well, not entirely.” He breathed out a sigh, as if a weight had been lifted from him, and kept his hands at Bucky’s chest. “I suppose it took me a little while to realize how stupid I would be to keep denying what I was feeling.”

Their eyes met and Bucky felt his stomach flip at the expression in Loki’s gaze. “But why—?”

“I’m not very good at this, James. Physically, it’s not difficult to navigate. But everything else that goes with it…” Loki turned his face again and nearly stepped away from Bucky. But Bucky was there, keeping a tight grip on him. “I ruined whatever it was between Fandral and I, and I—I ruined him. He can barely stand the sight of me now. I don’t want that to happen with you.”

“It won’t.” Loki skeptically angled his head and Bucky grinned. “I’m not great at this either, okay? Back in my day, I couldn’t do this. Not without major consequences. And I never really knew anyone I was willing to risk it with. Until you.”

“How romantic of you,” Loki murmured with his signature facetiousness.

“Shut up, Mischief. I’m saying, we don’t have to sneak around anymore, right? We also don’t have to rush into anything neither of us isn’t ready for. So…” He ran a finger down the side of Loki’s face. “How ‘bout we just see where it goes, okay, doll?”

Loki fluttered his lashes, swooning. “I do love it when you call me that.”

This time, Bucky let the kiss happen, wrapping both of his arms around Loki and holding him tight. He laughed against Loki’s mouth when the nimble god leapt up and wrapped his legs around Bucky’s waist.

“Um, off to bed then?”

“Hm, I thought you were tired?”

Bucky let out a low growl, near purr, at Loki’s fingers carding through his hair. “I might’ve gotten a second wind.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

Sorry that took a minute. I had the idea as soon as you sent the ask, I just wasn't able to get it down until last night (Wednesday) and I didn't get to read what I wrote at three o'clock in the morning and edit until tonight (Thursday). Felt kinda nice to write some WinterFrost again!

LMK if y'all want me to post this on AO3. Then I might have at least one fic posted this year, lol.

xoxo

[moontheoretist]

“That was the beginning of our friendship. Or well, it’s the beginning we admit to.” Stephen raised an eyebrow at that. “The illegal hacking is the beginning you admit to. I’m a little afraid to hear what the real beginning was.” “I was fourteen and in college,” Tony said dryly. “The beginning of our friendship was Rhodey whaling on my roommates for getting me drunk and then abandoning me with skeevy girls six years older than me.” Stephen’s eyes went wide. “I can see why that’s not what you tell everyone.” “Yeah, Rhodey worked things out so that we were roommates by the time winter semester rolled around. Still not sure how he did it and he swears it’s a secret he’s taking to his grave.” “Your relationship suddenly makes a lot more sense,” Stephen admitted. “Not that it didn’t make sense before. But he really does look at you like you’re the kid brother he’s spent his life protecting.” Tony felt a twist of fondness in his chest. “You’re not wrong. He’s more protective these days than he normally is what with…” “The multiple ways you’ve almost died, lately?” Stephen suggested. “I can’t imagine why that would be setting off his ‘protect Tony Stark’ radar.” “Which means I should apologize now. I know this is only one date, but…” “Shovel talk?” Stephen guessed. Tony winced. “Maybe not. It’s only the one date, so—“ “I wouldn’t mind if we went on another,” Stephen interrupted. “I might as well earn the shovel talk coming my way.” Tony paused in surprise. “Another, really?” Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Don’t act so surprised. You’ve been a good conversational partner and we didn’t even resort to talking purely work. Though I’ll put it out there now that I won’t mind when we do inevitably talk about work. Your mind fascinates me.” “I’m not sure if that was a compliment or just really creepy,” Tony told him, mind racing over the suggestion of another date. “I’ll be heading back to California for a bit after the arctic—“ “But you’re not headed to the arctic for another few days, and I have tomorrow off.” Tony took a moment to just stare at Stephen, trying to decide if this was a good idea. He wasn’t sure. But it didn’t seem like a bad one. “Tomorrow,” he agreed. --- “Are you… texting him?” Rhodey asked in disgust as he glanced over Tony’s shoulder as he settled into his seat on the private jet. “About…” Rhodey frowned as he read the texts, one eyebrow slowly raising up. “What even are you two talking about?”  “Experimental organ structure replacements,” Tony said easily, making a note to himself to rush the Stark phone in production, because his phone was really so much better than this monstrosity he was currently using. “He’s got some fascinating insight.” It was one of the things that he’d decided that he liked about Stephen. They could talk about a whole plethora of things without it getting strained or awkward. And Stephen didn’t mind when they talked about work-related things, even when Stephen himself didn’t fully understand the topic matter. As it was, Stephen was an engaging conversational partner, and a distracting one. Talking to Stephen meant that he had barely spent any time worried about the trip to the arctic and finding Steve Rogers. And everything that entailed. Stephen sent him another text pointing out concerns with the viability of Tony’s suggestion on the use of artificial hearts. “How… romantic.” Rhodey’s tone was somewhere between amused and exasperated.

~ The One to Bet On by airas_story

Rhodey being baffled at Tony and Stephen hitting it off to some boggling mind science will never get old lol.

[stark---contrast]

Come What May

@stevetonygames fill for team Future | Square "Laughing" | For @amysnotdeadyet Rated G | 1.2k words | ao3 link

"I never thought I'd be here," Steve confessed. "As a scrawny, sickly kid, nobody would even look at me twice—and that's if a flu didn't wipe me out before I even had the chance to go on a date at all."

That earned some murmurs of sympathy from the small crowd gathered: familiar faces of friends and colleagues Steve had met in the years after the ice.

Steve cleared his throat and looked down at the card in his hands, with words written in a cursive that hadn't been taught in schools in decades. He’d memorized the contents days ago, but he needed something to do with his hands or he'd end up either standing at parade rest or reaching for a shield that wasn't there.

"The war took a lot from me,” Steve continued. “Even if Rebirth gave me the ability to do what I’d always wanted to, it also made me into something different. Because of the serum, I lost my old life and all my friends—or at least I thought I did."

Steve glanced over his shoulder and Bucky gave a small smirk in encouragement: having Steve's back, like he'd always done.

"I woke up in a place where I had nothing but powers that weren't mine to begin with, thinking I'd missed my chance at a normal life and that being Cap had cost me my humanity," Steve said. Then he smiled, finally looking up to meet the eyes of the man in front of him. “But you've always reminded me of who I really am."

Tony was listening curiously and giving Steve all the time he needed to say his piece, even if he'd teased Steve with 'Jesus, how many cards do you have? I'm blaming you if the guests start snoring' the day before. He was dressed in a three-piece suit that he'd had custom-made, the cut matching Steve's suit and their vests and pocket squares color-coded to create one cohesive unit instead of two separate outfits.

Steve appreciated the symbolism in that.

"Ever since I met you, I've never been just Captain America to you,” Steve told Tony. “Whenever we talked or fought together or, hell, even when we argued—especially when we argued—I was allowed to just be Steve. Even if I didn't get your references, even if I was too stubborn to see things your way, you saw past the shield and treated me like an equal. I’m just a kid from Brooklyn and you're a genius, but you still let me lead the team and came to me for advice even when we didn't get along. Well, a murderbot or two notwithstanding."

Steve smiled and Tony mirrored the action, the corners of his eyes crinkling with lines and wrinkles that had become more pronounced for each year that passed.

"You always said I was too good for a world like this. But coming from one of the most compassionate, generous souls I've ever met, that’s the biggest compliment I could ask for," Steve said. "You're my hero, Tony Stark, and there's no greater honor I can think of than getting to spend the rest of my life with you."

Tony cleared his throat and averted his eyes. "Well, if I didn’t possess even less emotional range than Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible, you can be assured I'd be bawling my eyes out right about now."

The crowd chuckled and Steve could see Nat roll her eyes in the front row.

"I've got my own vows right here, but…" Tony frowned at the cards in his hands. "You know what!" He tossed the cards over his shoulder in a dramatic flourish. "I've always been much better at speeches when I'm improvising. Right, Rhodey-bear?"

Tony glanced at Rhodes by his side, who was looking more like an exasperated parent instead of a best man.

“Twenty years and you still won’t read the goddamn cards,” Rhodes deadpanned, yet didn’t look the least bit surprised.

“I'm living in the moment!" Tony protested.

Steve could distinctly make out strawberry blonde hair in the front row being buried between well-manicured fingers as Pepper, their self-appointed wedding planner, had yet another Tony-related silent meltdown.

Steve would probably end up giving her half of their wedding presents out of guilt. Organizing a superhero wedding was no small feat.

"Anyway, what I wanted to say was…" Tony turned back to face Steve. "That I wake up every day knowing I don't deserve you."

Steve's stomach dropped. "Tony—"

"But!" Tony held up his finger. "You've somehow managed to convince me that maybe, just maybe, I can occasionally be wrong about things."

Someone—who Steve was pretty sure was Clint—gasped theatrically and Tony quickly gestured to the guests. "Now don't get any ideas! I'm still a genius, and everything I've been wrong about is strictly Steve-related."

Steve huffed a quiet chuckle. Tony turned back to face him, a somewhat manic smile on his face as he kept talking.

"From things like 'he doesn't want me on the team', 'he hates the mod I made to his suit', 'he's a self-righteous asshole'...Okay, that one's partly true—"

Bucky snorted behind Steve and Steve shot a betrayed look his way, though wasn't able to hide his own smile.

"—To things like 'he's not into men', 'okay he is but he'd never want me', 'he says he's serious about us but I give it two months, tops', and…"

Tony paused, then looked at Steve: really looked at him, as if he couldn't quite believe that Steve was actually here.

"...And most recently, 'he'd never marry someone like me'," Tony said.

Steve's expression softened, as did Tony's smile and, God, Steve really couldn't think of anything better than getting to be with him for the rest of their lives.

"...We are getting married, right?" Tony gave a lopsided grin. "Because otherwise, uh, awkward," he stage-whispered to Rhodes.

Rhodes sighed. "Barnes, get the rings before he jet repulsors out of here."

As Bucky scrambled for the rings with a muttered curse, Steve couldn't help but laugh at the situation. Even in the middle of their carefully planned wedding ceremony—they'd really hear it from Pepper later—Tony had the ability to change the atmosphere into something much more relaxed with just a few words.

It was one of the first quirks that had gone from 'annoying' to 'endearing' the more Steve got to know him.

The glint of the rings drew Steve back to the present. He accepted the tiny box of satin carrying red and blue and gold from a metal hand and exchanged smiles with Bucky.

Tony's attention was back on Steve and he peered curiously at the rings, like he wasn’t the one who had been poring hours and hours in his workshop into them, all the while teaching smithing to a clueless Steve.

The officiant—who thankfully didn't seem to mind the vows getting derailed—cleared her throat and proceeded with the ceremony.

It wasn't long before Steve had a perfect ring on his finger and was slipping a slightly more clumsily-made one onto Tony's. Tony smiled brighter than the sun and Steve's vision blurred from tears, his cheeks aching from smiling so much.

Once they were declared husband and husband, Tony didn't bother waiting for permission before stepping close to Steve and leaning up for a kiss.

And as their friends cheered and Tony's grinning mouth was meeting Steve's in an eager kiss, Steve couldn't think of anywhere else he would rather be than right here:

Surrounded by laughter and their friends, kissing the man he loved who he now had the privilege of calling his husband.

[ashes0909]

Are you still taking prompts? If yes, I’m a lil sick right now and I’d really love a Steve/Tony hospital AU snipped! (If that’s enough of a prompt for you, vague as it is)

Thank you!! <3

Thank you for the prompt - I hope you're feeling better! If you're still under the weather, I hope this little medical AU brings a smile to your face!

----

McJailbait

Steve/Tony; Rated T

“I think McDreamy is already taken, but he definitely fits the bill,” Pepper told Tony, from behind her copy of Grey’s Anatomy. She needn’t have whispered; they were sitting side-by-side on a gurney in the lower level of the hospital, studying for their latest residency ITE, and the doctor they were gossiping about was on the other end of the long hallway.

“More like McJailbait,” Tony replied. Still, he couldn’t help checking out the way the young doctor’s pants fit over his drop dead gorgeous ass as he bent down to get his white coat from the floor. Tony made a mental note to thank whatever careless patient knocked into it. 

“Tony, you’re staring,” Rhodey interrupted what would’ve been a lovely daydream fantasy by kicking the gurney to jostle his attention.

“It’s not like he’s actually jailbait! He just looks like it. He’s a junior resident, not a summer intern.”

“You seem to know a lot about a person who started working at the hospital a month ago,” Pepper pointed out. She wore a smile that always seemed to spell out trouble for Tony. It usually meant she was going to go digging, and that was the last thing he needed.

“We met at the coffee stand in the courtyard. Twice. Anyway, I have to run, bye!”

Rhodey laughed. “Tony you don’t have anywhere to be for another--” The sound of Rhodey's voice faded as Tony turned the corner and entered the nearest elevator, pressing a random button.

A hand shot between the doors before they could close. Unfortunately, embarrassingly, Tony knew just by the hand who the person was--he couldn’t help it if Dr. Rogers had nice hands! Those hands had been holding a cup of coffee in his presence, twice! Now they weren’t holding anything but the elevator door, and when they slid back open, Dr. Rogers greeted him with a smile. 

“Dr. Stark, taking a study break? How are you this evening?”

“Exasperated.” Tony slammed his mouth shut. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he say ‘fine’ like anyone else and move on with this interaction like a normal human being. Dr. Rogers looked surprised for a moment, but then a smile broke across his face and he was laughing. The laugh brightened Dr. Rogers' expression in a gorgeous way that made Tony continue running his mouth. “Nah, um, nevermind. I’ve been reviewing with my friends and--” Tony swallowed the rest of his sentence, mind twisting with a sudden, terrifying thought. “How did you know I was studying?”

A pretty flush ran across Dr. Rogers’ cheeks. “Oh, well, just overheard you and your friends a minute ago talking about it.” He pressed his lips together. “You do know I’m twenty-three right? Hardly jailbait.”

Tony glanced at the numbers rolling at the top of the elevator. Why were there so many floors in this building? “Uhhh--”

“And I just thought you should know that. You know, in case you wanted to share a coffee somewhere other than the courtyard of the place we both work at.”

“Uhh…”

When Tony hadn’t properly rebooted from the revelation that Dr. Rogers had heard him and his friends gushing over him, a wave of concern crossed his boyish face. “Unless I misheard? You were kind of far away. Were you talking about McDonald's all along or something?” The elevator finally dinged! and the doors slid open. “I guess I’ll just see you around.” 

Tony grabbed his arm before he made it outside the elevator, catching Dr. Rogers' attention. By the time Dr. Rogers turned around, Tony had finally found his words again. “You know if this was some medical soap opera, I’d pull you into a kiss right now,” he declared, because apparently his brain found words but not a filter.

“Oh!” Dr. Rogers' flush deepened into a blush. “That’d be, uh, nice.”

Between one breath and the next, their mouths collided, and Tony wondered if that elevator music crescendoing in the background was just in his head or if he’d actually fallen into a television drama. When they pulled apart, Tony couldn’t help but lick his lips and savor the first taste of this beautiful young man. Dr. Rogers' eyes followed the movement of his tongue before blinking and meeting Tony’s eyes again. 

“I’m, uh, Steve.” 

Tony grinned. “Good to know. I’m Tony.” In lieu of a handshake, he rolled on to the tips of his toes and kissed the man again. “Now, what’s this about a coffee date at McDonalds?”

Steve chuckled. “I think we can do better than that.”

Tony smirked. “I think you just want to upgrade from McJailbait to McDreamy.”

“Well, yeah! How am I doing so far?”

“McPerfect.”