#Sharon Carter/Reader

[sweetbuckybarnes]

Who is This?: Chapter 1

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Bucky had a wife during the 40s, she was left heartbroken after the telegram arrived (missing, presumed dead). It's surprising when 80 years later, she was working behind a bar in Madripoor of all places!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Bucky followed Sam and Zemo into a loud bar, he immediately wanted to turn around and go home, why had Zemo demanded he go back to being the Winter Soldier (even if it was one night)?

The sound of heavy drums and guitars also deafened his hearing, a song he had come to learn was The Wild Boy by a band called Duran Duran. A few bartenders and waitresses were walking around, there was only one who stuck out to him - a dark-haired young woman who reminded him too much of his departed wife.

His heart breaks even more, thinking of the woman he had left behind, his girl. The love of his life. Bucky doesn't think he will ever 'get over' her.

The way the young woman walked, carrying a tray of empty glasses (before being tossed an empty bottle by a patron), was so similar to the way his girl walked in the hole-in-the-wall diner she worked in.

She wasn't quick enough to duck under the bar before they got to the door leading upstairs (which was coincidentally next to the bar), Zemo was talking to the bouncer. "Excuse me, gentlemen," the young woman said, squeezing between the back of Zemo and the front of Bucky. Which is when he got a good look at her face.

There she was.

His girl. His wife.

He couldn't even say anything to her, as he was taken upstairs and away from his girl. He could only hope he would be allowed back in at the end of the night to see her.

Y/N Barnes made her way behind the bar, glancing up at the TV where the Kansas City Chiefs were currently playing the Buffalo Bills at Arrowhead Stadium, then down at her phone which showed the live score of the Dodgers game against the San Francisco Giants.

She had been a long-time Dodgers girl, even after she found out they had moved from Brooklyn to Los Angeles.

"Did you see the way he was looking at you?" Yasmine asked, pushing a dry Martini in front of a 26-year-old woman.

Y/N looked up from the glasses she was putting in the dishwasher. "Huh? What are you talking about?"

"One of the men who went upstairs. The way he was looking at you," Yasmine fans her hand for dramatic effect. "I would drop my panties for him in a millisecond."

"Like you don't do that every night."

Yasmine rolled her eyes and served the next half-drunk who had come to the bar.

"Don't listen to her," Anastasia told her, rolling her eyes as Yasmine flirted with her current flavour of the week.

"It's not often I do, darling," Y/N replied, fiddling with Anastasia's curls for a second, before spotting a patron. "What can I get for you, darling?"

He hung off the bar, obviously far too drunk to understand what was going on. "Another beer and your phone number," he slurred.

She shook her head, reaching over and grabbing him another beer. As far as the boss of the bar (whoever that was) was concerned unless they were unconscious- why should you stop serving them? Y/N thought it wasn't right, but no matter how often she voiced this - she was shut down.

She set the beer in front of him and then went to the register to add it to his bill (good thing she currently has his credit card behind the bar).

"Oi, sweet cheeks!" He calls, but Y/N doesn't pay attention looking over at Yasmine and Anastasia with a raised eyebrow. "Sweet cheeks! I asked for your number."

Y/N replied by simply raising her hand proudly displaying her engagement and wedding rings to the drunk. It was only a small diamond (given Bucky worked on the docks before he was deployed), and the plain band she inherited from her great-grandmother.

"What's the matter with that 'un?" He hiccups. "He got you costume jewellery or somethin'?"

Y/N shook her head. "I'm going into the back for a moment," she tells Aidan.

Little did the drunk patron know, all those years ago, this was the date she was handed the telegraph - putting in such blunt words. Her James was missing, they presumed him to be dead. It breaks her heart that they never got to have a proper funeral.

"You alright, honey?" Elizabeth (another one of the waitresses) asked, she had been outside on her break. Elizabeth was the only one who knew her true age and about her James.

"It's the day I found out James was missing," Y/N said, before bursting into more tears.

Elizabeth wrapped Y/N up in a hug, everyone oblivious to the fact that Y/N's presumed dead husband was now running through the bar, flocked by Sam and Zemo, and into the alley behind the bar.

When Bucky was sure Zemo, Sam and Sharon were asleep, he slipped out of the safe house and into the night - determined to find out if the woman he saw in the bar was that of his (presumably? should be?) dead wife.

He eventually made his way to the front door of the bar, the bouncers had long since gone home. He could see lights on in the building and just about make out words being spoken thanks to the Super Soldier serum running through his veins.

He grasped the handle and gave it a push, the door hadn't been locked, as it gave beneath the slight push.

He could see three young women sitting on the bar, a man who was counting the money from the register and another man who was dancing.

The young woman sitting closest to the bar, had golden curls hanging around her head. "Mark, you didn't lock the door!"

The man dancing, Mark, looked over at Bucky, eyes widening when he saw the size of Bucky. "I say we just serve him, then lock the door behind him."

As the bartenders and waitress argued amongst themselves, Bucky's eyes never left the woman in the middle. It looked as if she had been crying. "Babydoll?"

The woman stopped giggling, tipping her head back to normal and looked at him, before dropping her glass as tears welled up in her eyes. "James?"

The curly-haired woman gasped, setting her glass down and giving Y/N a push off the bar.

Bucky held his arms out to catch her as her feet landed on the floor. He couldn't stop looking at her big eyes, he'd always loved her big expressive eyes. He always knew how she was feeling by just a look in her eyes.

"James? Is that you?" Her hand came out slowly, and shakily, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing in front of her.

"Hi, babydoll," Bucky smiled, tears starting to fall down his cheeks, a heavy sob held tightly in his chest at the moment in time. As soon as her fingers met his skin, Bucky let out a heavy sigh of relief, reaching over and pulling her into his arms. Y/N's arms dug themselves away from his chest and up around his neck before her hand soon started fiddling with his hair.

The couple stood there for a moment, finally finding their slice of peace. Some came barging into the bar, and the dark-haired woman who had been sitting on the other side of Y/N practically demanded Mark lock the door before the Hounds of Baskerville came in.

Y/N was so happy to finally have her James back in her arms, but there was a whirling sound she couldn't let go. "What's that noise?"

Bucky looked from his wife to his arm and back to his bride. "I'll explain everything to you later, but... I lost my arm, and I now have a prosthetic one," he tells her, letting go of her for a moment so he could take his glove off and show her the black and gold Vibranium one he had made.

"Ok, James. It's a good thing you gave me this," she reached beneath her top and pulled a ring out from beneath, hanging from a chain. "Before you were deployed."

Bucky smiled, cupping her face so he could kiss her. Bucky pulled away chuckling a little. "Babydoll, will you please put my ring back on?"

She reached behind her to unclasp the chain, and slid Bucky's band off, "if it doesn't fit we'll get it resized."

"I don't care what size it is, as long as you put my ring back where it belongs," Bucky almost growled, a piece of him falling back into place with the ring back on his finger.

The next morning - Sam, Zemo and Sharon came into the living room, seeing Bucky sleeping on the sofa (Sam was expecting this, after being told by Steve), however, there was a lump lying next to Bucky they didn't recognise.

Sam slowly makes his way over, gently easing down the thick blanket lying over Bucky and the lump.

Lying there, practically on top of the 'bionic staring machine' was a young woman.

"Did he somehow pick up a girl?" Sam whispered. Sam and Sharon were trying to be quiet - however, Zemo (who didn't care) started clattering around the kitchen, causing Bucky to wake up in a start, which then caused the young woman to look up with tired owl-like eyes.

"What the hell is going on?" Bucky nearly demanded, keeping his arms wrapped around his companion.

Sam raised his eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question, Barnes?" Sam looked at the young woman in Bucky's arms. "Who is this?"

Bucky looked down at her, Sam watched as a smile grew on his face. "This is Y/N. Y/N Barnes. My wife."

[florencebirdsong]

I am so normal and can be trusted with marvel women. Please give me marvel women. I won’t bite them. I am so normal about marvel women. Please give them to me

[wandascrush]

Is it really you?

Pairing: Sharon Carter x f!reader, Avengers x f!reader, Natasha Romanoff x f!reader, HYDRA x f!reader

Part 11 of the DIWK series!

Tag list: @esposadejoyhuerta @kissesfornat @ayrtonwilbury @casquinhaa @womenarehotsstuff @caffeine-pup @seventeen-x @blacatto

Warnings: violence, murder, guns, blood, explosions, fire

It had taken Sharon four months, but she finally found you.

The lead had come from a corrupt Europol contact—one she had to break fingers to get talking.

A flash drive, encrypted with information on something called Project Nightshade. HYDRA had set up an operation deep in the Carpathian Mountains. Remote. Isolated. Off the grid. The kind of place you disappear into and never come out.

It was only when she finished reading that she realized you were the project.

Carter spent weeks monitoring the perimeter, tracking movements, listening to intercepted comms. The base was heavily fortified, tighter than even some old SHIELD black sites. HYDRA wasn't just hiding a prisoner.

They were hiding a prized possession. They were hiding you- Asset Nightshade.

Cold hands tightened around the scope of her sniper rifle, positioned on a high ridge overlooking the facility. She had no backup, no official sanction. Just herself, her weapons, and you at the end of this mission.

She peered through her scope, scanning the compound’s exterior.

Armed patrols at every entrance. Sniper nests on the rooftops.

Security drones circling the perimeter.

Getting in was going to be a nightmare.

Getting out with you?

Even worse.

Her earpiece crackled—an old mercenary contact she had bribed for blueprints.

"Carter, you got about a ten-minute window during shift rotation. After that, they lock it down tight."

Sharon exhaled slowly, lowering her rifle.

Ten minutes. That was all she’d have.

"Ten’s all I need," she muttered, pulling down her mask and slipping down the ridge.

Sharon moved through the forest like a shadow, boots silent against the damp ground. The air was sharp with the scent of pine and rain-soaked earth. She timed her movements with the shifting patrols, slipping between blind spots, ducking beneath sensor towers.

The moment the guard at the back exit turned his head, she struck.

A knife to the throat.

A quiet, clean kill.

She dragged his body into the shadows, stripping him of his access card.

——————-

The facility was a fortress. Deep underground, lined with reinforced steel, the kind of place where things went in and never came out.

But Sharon wasn’t looking for a way in.

She was looking for a way out.

She found you in a cell guarded by two burly men—

The guards fell easily. It was almost disappointing.

You didn’t react when the cell door hissed open.

You should. Your training demands it. But there’s no tension in your shoulders, no shift in posture. Just blankness.

You sit on the metal cot, hands resting on your thighs, still as stone.

Sharon steps in, gun raised, breath tight in her chest.

She barely recognizes you.

Your hair is damp, messy from sweat. Your face thinner. Shadows cling to the hollows of your cheeks, and bruises bloom beneath your skin like wilted roses. But still, Sharon thinks to herself, still beautiful.

“Y/N,” she whispered, her voice tight with urgency.

Your head lifted slightly, eyes unfocused.

Recognition flickered—but not enough.

Sharon’s stomach twisted. They had done something to you.

She knelt beside you, hands gripping your face. “Listen to me. It’s me. It’s Sharon.”

You blinked slowly.

“You’re an intruder.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“No, no, no. Not an intruder, L/N.”

A flicker of softness flashed in your eyes, a moment of recognition from your last name.

Sharon’s voice softens, but only for a second, “Yeah babe, that’s right. It’s me, I’m your friend. And we need to move.”

When you didn’t immediately stand, she pulled you up, throwing your arm over her shoulder.

The moment your legs buckled, she knew—they had weakened you. Drugged you. Rebuilt you.

But they hadn’t taken all of you.

Not yet.

Sharon shoved a gun into your shaking hands. She trusted you wouldn’t hurt her.

“Think you can still shoot?”

Your fingers curled around the grip automatically. Muscle memory. Second nature.

You exhaled shakily.

She watches as your hands flex—calm, methodical—ready for a fight if need be. But there’s no recognition in your face.

No hesitation.

No warmth.

Only the mechanical precision of a weapon awaiting orders.

She swallows hard, her heart breaking in real time.

“Lets get the fuck out of here.”

Your gaze flickers, an almost imperceptible shift, but she catches it

A small crack.

But then, just as quickly, it’s gone.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say flatly.

Sharon doesn’t hesitate.

She raises her gun and aims it right at your forehead.

“You don’t get a choice.”

Her voice is firm, her grip steady. But inside, she’s terrified.

The alarm blasts through the facility and chaos erupts. The sound of boots running starts to grow close.

They know. Fuck, they’re coming.

Sharon curses under her breath, grabbing your wrist. “Move.”

You don’t resist. Not exactly. But you don’t comply either. Your training demands submission to orders—and right now, there are two voices in your head.

One is Sharon Carter.

The other is the voice of HYDRA. Your maker.

Your steps are too silent, too controlled, moving like a predator as she drags you through the corridors. No fear. No hesitation.

Even in escape, you are efficient.

A beauty designed to obey.

Shots whiz past, bullets pinging off the metal walls as guards flood into the corridors.

Sharon ducks behind cover, returns fire with deadly precision, taking out two men before yanking you down with her. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she snaps. “Help me!”

But you just stare at her.

Your fingers flex—your mind foggy, uncertain. You were always trained to protect, to fight.

And then—

A voice crackles through the HYDRA comms, sharp and authoritative.

“Agent Nightshade. Don’t disobey your makers.”

Your body seizes. Breath hitching.

Another, sickly sweet voice cracks through the comms, “Sister’s Keeper.”

In an instant—your brain goes blank.

Sharon sees it happen. Watches the point of control in your eyes get ripped away.

You strike first.

A kick, inhumanly fast, meant to take her down.

Sharon barely blocks, stumbling backward, disbelief flooding her veins.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!”

But you’re already moving.

It’s like you can’t even hear her.

Her gun is kicked from her hands before she can react.

The fight is brutal. Precise. You don’t miss.

But neither does she.

You were trained together, years ago. Before the Avengers. Before the lies. Before all of this shit.

Sharon knows your patterns like the back of her hand.

But this dark, grimey, underworld has changed you.

She blocks a blow aimed for her throat—

And makes a split-second decision.

She doesn’t dodge.

Your fist slams into her jaw, and she crumples.

You stand over her, chest heaving, fingers trembling. Your body stills. Your mind flickers. The world slows.

Sharon Carter is on the ground.

You put her there.

The fog in your brain stumbles, just slightly. Something pangs in your chest, not physical pain. But sadness.

Her voice, hoarse, breaks through the static.

“You’re still in there.”

Your vision swims. The alarms blare.

Sharon reaches up, pressing something into your palm. A small silver device.

A trigger.

She gasps, coughing from the impact, but her eyes never leave yours.

“Press it, Y/N.”

Both sides of you are screaming

You press it. And the entire HYDRA facility explodes.

The walls around you shudder, a deep groan echoing through the underground facility as fire licks up the hallways, chasing oxygen like a starving animal.

You’re still standing. Somehow.

Your breath comes out in ragged gasps, and something unfamiliar twists in your chest.

Emotion.

The numbness isn’t gone—but it’s cracking. Fractured.

And Sharon is still there.

She’s coughing, one hand pressed to her ribs, but she’s alive. Alive because you didn’t finish the fight. Alive because you stopped.

She stares at you through the smoke.

“Y/N,” she rasps, voice fraying at the edges. “We have to move.”

You hesitate.

Your body can’t move. The trigger words won’t allow it.

But the base is burning. Second by second, the walls crumble and flame.

And the only voice left in your head now is hers. Samantha’s.

Sharon knows she has little to no time left, and in your frozen state she whips the back of your head with her gun. Your limp body is practically thrown over her shoulder like a rag.

She carries you through the ruins of your prison, her legs are so tired they nearly give out.

You two are so close to an exit tunnel when someone pops out of the smoke and dust.

A slow clap echoes throughout the burning hallways.

“Touching,” Samantha’s voice coos, sickly sweet and venomous. “The rogue little blonde came all this way for the broken one.”

Sharon’s spine goes rigid.

Still holding you in one arm, she slowly reaches into the back of her belt with the other—fingers wrapping around the grip of her sidearm.

Samantha steps through the hallway, firelight dancing along the steel of her knife.

“I should’ve known you’d come for her,” Samantha muses, circling closer. “I always wondered what happened to that little SHIELD rat. The one who didn’t quite belong anywhere. Auntie Peggy must be oh-so disappointed.” She feigns a pout.

“Funny,” Sharon murmurs, rising to her feet and easing your unconscious body gently behind a half-fallen support beam. Her voice is steady. Low. Lethal. “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

Samantha grins. “She was always going to belong to us. You never stood a chance. Project Nightshade has been years in the making. By coincidence, Y/N came to us, betrayed us, and became our perfect weapon. It was meant to be.”

Sharon lifts her gun.

Samantha lunges.

It’s fast—almost too fast—but Sharon is faster.

The first bullet catches Samantha in the side.

The second one lands in her leg.

She stumbles, but keeps coming, teeth bared, blade flashing. “She’s ours”

Sharon ducks the swing, slams her boot into Samantha’s knee, right as a knife plunges itself into her ribs. A scream rips from her throat but she doesn’t stop, and fires again—this time point-blank.

The bullet tears through her chest.

Samantha staggers, choking on blood.

“I used to tell her about monsters like you,” the blonde slowly walks to look over Samantha’s body.

She tries to speak, but blood is gurgling out of her mouth and nose.

Sharon puts her last bullet between Samantha’s eyes.

She doesn’t look back.

[dameronspector]

Philophobia (Part 7)

Pairings: Joaquin Torres x Stark!Reader, Sam Wilson x Platonic!Reader, Bucky Barnes x Platonic!Reader

Chapter Summary: You, Sam, Bucky and Zemo make your way to Madripoor to meet up with Zemo’s contact. Joaquin asks you a question and you doubt yourself. Madripoor is shady and you meet someone who was MIA for years.

Warnings: Cursing, Angst, Slight Fluff, Revisiting Past, Mentions of Depression and Phobias, Isolation, Loneliness, Guns/Bullets, Alcohol, Smoking, Steve Rogers Hate- click off if you’re not interested in that, Bucky is forced to act brainwashed (that scene from ep03), that’s all i think!

AN: sorry, no joaquin in this but there’s some crumbs! This chapter is mostly about Sam, Bucky and Reader!

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Zemo's butler wheel in a tray filled with drinks and food and noticed him say something to the butler. Sam and Bucky mostly kept quiet, Sam being the one to ask questions here and there but you could see Bucky’s face set in an irritated expression and it almost made you laugh at how he looked like a pissed off cat.

You had chosen to zone out for the most of it, keeping your headphones on and daydreaming because you were still reeling from the departure from Joaquin, when you suddenly noticed a quick movement and saw that Bucky had his hand wrapped around Zemo’s throat, his face showing fury. You immediately straightened up and threw your headphones aside to make your way towards them.

“Whoa, hey. What’s wrong?”, you asked Bucky in alarm and wrapped a hand around his bicep, pulling him away from Zemo. Bucky spared an annoyed glance towards Zemo, his jaw clenched tightly.

“I’m sorry. I understand that list of names. People you’ve wronged as the Winter Soldier”, Zemo replied calmly.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked between them, “What?”

Bucky looked uncomfortable with the attention so he just shook his head and gently shrugged your hand off before walking back to his seat.

You looked at Sam and he just shrugged helplessly. Letting out an exhausted sigh, you chose to sit on the arm of Bucky's seat, to act as a barrier between him and Zemo.

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ve seen that book. It was Steve’s when he came out of the ice. I told him about Trouble Man. He wrote it in that book. Did you hear it? What’d you think?”, Sam asked Bucky with curiosity.

“I like ’40s music, so…”

“You didn’t like it?”, Sam asked in an incredulous tone.

“I liked it”, Bucky replied nonchalantly. You chuckled under your breath. They were back to fighting like a married couple.

“It is a masterpiece, James. Complete. Comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience”, Zemo confessed and you and Sam turned to look at him in the same weirded out manner.

Sam grimaced but admitted, “He’s out of line, but he’s right. It’s great. Everybody loves Marvin Gaye.”

“I like Marvin Gaye”, once again Bucky replied in a 'couldn’t care less' manner.

“Steve adored Marvin Gaye”, Sam exclaimed, irritated with Bucky’s indifference.

“You must have really looked up to Steve. But I realized something when I met him. The danger with people like him, America’s Super Soldiers, is that we put them on pedestals”, Zemo conceded in his breathy voice and you froze.

Actually shocked at his confession and shocked at the fact that you and him shared something in common: a dislike and critique for Steve. Although his dislike was in a more lethal way, you found it funny nonetheless.

“Watch your step, Zemo”, Sam warned.

You let out a loud scoff and all three of them turned to look at you. Checking your nails in an unbothered manner, you quipped, “I can’t believe we have something in common, Zemo.”

The entire cabin was quiet at that. Sam and Bucky stared at you in disbelief and Zemo looked at you with a smirk. You sensed the tension and coughed to clear it, "Carry on."

Zemo threw one last look at you before continuing, “They become symbols. Icons. And then we start to forget about their flaws. From there, cities fly, innocent people die. Movements are formed, wars are fought. You remember that, right? As a young soldier sent to Germany to stop a mad icon. Do we want to live in a world full of people like the Red Skull? That is why we’re going to Madripoor.”

Bucky pursed his lips while Sam made a face, "What's up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it's Skull Island."

You opened your mouth to explain before Bucky beat you to it, "It's an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s."

"It's kept its lawless ways. But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone. And (Name)-"

"-is not going anywhere", Sam conceded firmly. You snapped your head towards him.

"What's that supposed to mean", you asked him in a warning tone.

"That means that you're not goin' anywhere. You’ll stay and wait til' we come back", he replied in a tone laced with finality.

You rolled your eyes, "Dude, you cannot be serious. You want me to be alone in a shady place like that?"

"Listen-"

"Sam", Bucky interjected, "They obviously know more about this place than you. Plus, they can fight. We could really use someone for backup, especially with this...clown with us", Bucky reasoned, calling Zemo as the clown and admitting that he did not trust him either. That made you relax and you threw an appreciative look towards Bucky.

Zemo ignored Bucky's jab and nodded his head, "Yes, the little Stark has experience, knowledge and stealth. They can keep an eye on us while being undercover, in case, something goes wrong. They’ll act as my assistant. We will talk in Russian, only”, Zemo instructed and you reluctantly nodded your head.

Sam let out a dejected sigh and looked at you in disappointment before speaking up, "But if you do anything s-" "-stupid you will bench me immediately. Yeah, I know", you finished for him and he glared at you half heartedly.

You just shrugged and addressed Zemo, your tone clipped and stern, "If you try to do anything crazy while we’re there...", he just raised his hands in a surrender motion.

-

While you were getting ready to put on the very expensive and very chic all black suit and trench coat given to you by Zemo, your phone's buzzing distracted you from the task at hand. You opened it to see that you had received some texts from Joaquin. Involuntary butterflies fluttered in your stomach and you bit your lip to stop the smile from spreading across your face.

You opened the messages and saw that he had sent three in a row:

Flyboy: hi Flyboy: hope u landed safely Flyboy: how are u

You let out a soft giggle before replying

You: hey flyboy You: will land in a few You: i am okay. did you reach back to the base safely?

Flyboy: yep. already back at work. 😵‍💫 Flyboy: missing you tho

That second text almost made you drop the phone but you noticed that he had attached a picture of pancakes. Your cheeks warmed up and palms felt sweaty as your thumbs hovered above the keyboard, debating on what to reply. You shook your head a little and decided to reply casually, choosing to ignore that 'missing you' (for now).

You: woww. eating pancakes without me? traitor 😧

You didn't have to wait for too long for his reply, which made you think he was siting with his hands glued to his phone and you let out a chuckle at that.

Flyboy: u wound me 😔 come back safely and then we will have our favorite pancakes, promise Flyboy: it's a date

You gasped. Did he just straight up ask you on a date? Your gasp must have been loud enough for Bucky's super soldier hearing to pick up because you heard his voice call out, "Kid, You okay?"

"Uh-I-", you stammered and held a hand to your forehead, "Yeah! Yeah, I'm good. Just- just stubbed my toe!"

You heard him say 'Okay' faintly and went back to staring at your darkened screen. Were you ready for this? Or did he mean it in a friendly way? Friends do go on dates, right?

Flyboy: or not...its okay! forget i said anything

Your phone lit up with his text and you swallowed thickly before your shaky hands opened his chat.

He was a sweet and lovely guy but you weren't sure why he wanted to hang out with you. You couldn't be in denial about your feelings for him any longer. It felt immature to keep acting like this was your first time ever experiencing something like this. After everything you have been through in the last 6 years, you sort of allowed yourself to wallow in your sorrows and become a recluse. You reveled in the pain and loneliness you felt, like a sick masochist, because your depressed brain thought that you deserved it. Simple as that. That is what made you push everyone away--that is what made you push Peter away.

Well, that and the weird five year age gap between the two of you now. But Joaquin was here, and he was trying so hard. You didn't want to hurt him like you did with Peter, even though you already have a few times since you met him.

The logical and phobic part of your brain was sending you warning signals to not text him back, to run away, to isolate. But the hereditary, impulsive Stark-gene in you was screaming at you to say yes.

And you did exactly what the Stark gene asked you to.

You: okay, done 👍

You shut your eyes tightly after sending the text and your phone buzzed right away. He had sent a gif.

Flyboy:

And you let out a cackle. You loved how he could switch from serious to funny easily. You reacted to it with a laughing emoji and shut your phone to prepare yourself for whatever Madripoor has in store for you, deciding to ignore how light and warm you felt after talking to Joaquin, for now.

-

The four of you finally got off at a private airport and made your way to the car waiting for you.

Sam let out a sigh, “We have to fix this. I’m the only one who looks like a pimp”, he complained, lifting the hem of his jacket. You let out a chuckle and he glared at you.

Meanwhile, Bucky was way too quiet next to you, his hands and jaw clenched tightly, eyes focusing in front of him. You looked at him in sympathy, knowing that he was feeling uncomfortable with the fact that he’d have to slip into his ‘brainwashed version.’

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward Black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing. The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger”, Zemo explained while showing a picture of Conrad Mack.

Your eyebrows raised high on your forehead, “Whoa. Sam, you sure you don’t have an estranged twin?”

Sam whistled lowly, “He even has a bad nickname. Hell, he does look like me, though.”

“You smell this?”, Zemo asked.

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?”, Sam asked and you wrinkled your nose.

“Madripoor. No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error. High Town’s that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town’s the other way”, Zemo instructs and you just nod your head—hating that you have to follow his lead but understanding that this was his world so you had to listen to his words.

“Let me guess. We don’t have any friends in High Town”, Sam conceded and the four of you finally reached the car.

You were sat in between Sam and Bucky and Bucky was still quiet—quieter than usual, his whole body tensed.

Nudging him with your arm, “You good?”, you asked him in a low whisper.

Bucky’s ocean blue eyes looked at you, thinly veiled fear shimmering in the low light. He let out a hum and tried to give you a smile. You pursed your lips and squeezed his arm in reassurance, “We’ll cover you, you know that, right?”

Bucky smirked and nodded, finding it endearing that someone half his size was volunteering to protect him.

-

Madripoor definitely lived up to its reputation. Filthy streets, flashy lights, loud music, people loitering around in fancy/club clothes and the constant feeling of being spied on—all of this summed up the place pretty well. Every corner of the street looked suspicious, like someone will jump out of the shadows to hold you at gun point.

You were almost sure nobody would recognize you because you haven't appeared in public for over a year and because you were also older now. But you did not want to take any chances, so you were using one of those invisible-shapeshifting masks that Natasha introduced you to, and shifted it into a random person's face.

After weaving through crowds and being gawked at like you were an exhibit, the four of you finally reached the club that you were supposed to meet this contact in.

“Here we are”, Zemo announced and ushered the three of you in.

“I’ll be watching your six”, you murmured lowly. Sam and Bucky looked at you in concern but you flashed them a reassuring look and disappeared into the crowd to blend in.

Standing exactly opposite to the three of them but hidden in plain sight, your laser sharp eyes scoured the entire room, brushing a hand against the gun holstered to your thigh to reassure yourself.

You were nervous, you wouldn’t lie. It's been 6 months since you last went on field and even though Rhodey made sure you stayed in shape and trained, the fear and anticipation of being in a real threat was not lost on you. Every hair on your body was raised in alarm because its felt like the entire room was watching your every move.

The smell of alcohol and smoke was distracting, the room suffocating you--not only from the scent, but also from the crowd and atmosphere. You pushed through it to keep a subtle eye on Sam, Bucky and Zemo and eventually made your way over to the bar counter, requesting for a vodka mojito to blend in and keep your hands busy.

As your eyes moved across the room, you noticed a man approach the three men and you sat up straight in alarm. The hands around the glass tensed, your teeth biting the inside of your cheek in focus. And then suddenly, Bucky lunged.

Your eyes widened and you moved before Zemo made eye contact with you from across the counter and subtly shook his head--telling you to stay put. So you clenched the glass tightly in your hands—the cold perspiration of it making your palms wet and slippery—and helplessly watched Zemo use Bucky as a shield and make him do the dirty work, your chest clenching in worry for him.

Sam had a similar disturbed look on his face. Everyone's phones were on Bucky, filming the Winter Soldier do what he does best. It was too much, too traumatising and Bucky's paralysed face said it all. It's like he had shut down.

Thankfully, it got over and the three of them were being escorted out of the room before they suddenly stopped. Zemo whispered something in the guard's ear and he made his way over to you.

You stiffened, your breath hitching and body locking up.

"Your boss is asking for you."

You blinked rapidly before catching Sam's gestures to 'come here' and pursed your lips, offering the man a curt nod. You silently followed him over to where the three of them were standing before Zemo spoke up, "Я сказал тебе следовать за мной" (i told you to follow me), his eyes asking you to follow along.

"Извините, босс" (Sorry, Boss), and lowered your eyes in fake shame.

Zemo nodded and told the guard to show the way. He guided you to a shady looking nook (honestly, this whole place was fucked), the music and commotions getting muffled and the fluorescent lights making your eyes hurt.

The four of you finally arrived into a room where a platinum blonde-haired woman was sitting on a sofa. There was some kind of music playing and there were guards protecting the woman, guns in hand, you took notice. Alarm bells were going off in your head—this was going to get real messy if Zemo fucked it up. The crowd in the club combined with the guards and security littered across the place, were going to make the escape a pain in the ass.

You, Sam and Bucky were still trying to digest all of this in so the three of you simply stood there numbly—you stood next to Zemo's right, Sam on his left and Bucky stood attentively, like a soldier on duty, between you and the woman. You felt disgusted that he had to do all this.

"You should know, Baron. People don't just come into my bar and make demand", that woman spoke up, her gaudy makeup and tacky fashion sense making her stand out, yet fit in, in this bizarre place.

"Not a demand. An offer", Zemo suggested.

The woman gave him a sarcastic smile, "A lot has changed since you were last here. By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?", she raised an eyebrow.

You clenched your jaw and kept your gaze away from her, keeping a vigilant eye on the guards in case they tried anything.

"People like us always find a way, don't we? I'm sure you've already figured out what I'm here for."

The woman threw Zemo a look before turning her attention to Sam. You furrowed your brows and kept your gaze on him, his face displaying how tensed he was.

"You're taller than I'd heard, Smiling Tiger", she flashed him a disgustingly sweet smile before addressing Zemo again, "What's the offer", she purred. You grimaced and exchanged a look with Sam.

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum. And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want”, Zemo announced and made his way over to Bucky, caressing his dimpled chin like he was his master.

It made you sick, it took everything in you to not lunge at him so you clenched your fists tightly and focused on Bucky instead.

The woman smiled like a maniac, “Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or… condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but… things didn’t go as planned.”

You furrowed your brows. Power Broker?

“Nagel still in Madripoor?”

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me”, the woman conceded and leaned back on the sofa.

Suddenly, the vibration of a cell phone echoed in the room and you all froze. It was Sam’s. You felt your stomach drop.

“Answer it. On speaker”, the woman demanded.

Sam swallowed thickly before looking around the room and hesitated before picking up the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It’s been drivin’ me nuts”, a woman’s voice said on the phone.

“What situation exactly are you talkin’ about?”, Sam asked.

“Are you high? You know what situation, it’s the only situation me and you have.”

“What situation, Sarah? Say it”, Sam asked hotly and that’s when it clicked to you. It was his sister, Sarah. You felt like someone had poured cold water on you, praying that she wouldn’t blow his cover or reveal any personal information about herself.

“The damn boat. And watch your tone. Okay? I let you slide at the bank”, Sarah hit back at him.

Sam scoffed, his face struggling to keep up the facade and you swallowed, “The bank. Yeah. Laundered so much…” he chuckled in exaggeration, “Yeah, they’ll come around.”

You then noticed the woman’s face. She was slowly getting suspicious, her eyes on alert.

“If that was the case, then why’d they dog you out, Big Time?”

“Yeah, you damn right I’m Big Time. You’ll see when I have that banker killed”, Sam replied condescendingly. You almost face palmed yourself, Sam couldn’t even lie to be an asshole. It just wasn’t in his blood.

“Cass! What’d I tell you about the Cheerios? I don’t have time for this! Sam, I’m sorry. I’ll call you back.”

It felt like time had stopped. All of you froze in your places and stared at Sam, who was trying his best not to show that he was scared.

“Sam?! Who’s Sam? Kill them!”, that woman screeched and her guards lunged at the four of you.

And all hell broke loose. The guards started shooting, two of them making their way to you and you quickly unholstered your gun to fire at their kneecaps before Sam and Bucky punched the others and disarmed them. Zemo took out his gun and shot the woman in the stomach before the four of you cleared the room. You stared at him in shock before Sam grabbed your arm and gently pushed you out of the room.

It wasn’t difficult to take down the woman and the guards, but it was going to be a pain in the ass to save yourselves from this city itself.

As soon as the four of you stepped out of the bar, you heard several phone chimes go off, the screens flashing some message on it.

“What the hell is going on?”, you muttered as gunshots went off in your direction. “Fuck!”, you ducked and ran.

“Shit, Shit!”, Sam yelled, “I can’t run in these heels!”, Sam shouted and grimaced as his feet hurt.

You looked back and fired a shot, but you were too distracted to notice that all of a sudden, there was an additional gunshot fired from the opposite direction, causing another shooter to die.

You all slowed down to a stop and stared at the body in disbelief, Sam and Bucky looking around to see who did this.

“You seem to have a guardian angel”, Zemo announced, his gun still raised.

You furrowed your brows and looked at him in confusion, trying to figure out which ally was living in Madripoor of all places?

Then, a figure appeared—Gun pointed at you four, face covered with a big hood, the darkened alley making it seem like they appeared out of thin air.

“Well this is too perfect. Drop it, Zemo.”

And the figure stepped into light. You gasped and Sam and Bucky stared at her with wide eyes.

“Sharon?”, Bucky finally asked.

You didn’t even know if she was alive, to be honest. After the whole accords fiasco, she was wanted and had left the States, but the fact that she could be laying low in Madripoor wasn’t something that you could’ve ever imagined. After all, the Carters were nothing if obedient to the government.

“You cost me everything.”

“Sharon, wait. Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.”

“That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.”

You paused. So the woman’s name was Selby.

Sharon then turned her attention to you, her face twisted in confusion. “Who’s this?”

Then you remembered that you were still wearing the mask and brought your hand up to your face, removing the veil and shaking your head to get rid of the flyaways.

“Oh. The (Name) Stark with Bucky Barnes? That’s something I’d pay to watch”, Sharon quipped and you shrugged casually.

“So what are you doing here?”, Sam asked.

Sharon looked away from you and addressed him, her gun still pointed at you four, “I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass, so that you could save his ass from his ass,” she pointed at Bucky and Zemo as she went on, “I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up. So I’m off the grid in Madripoor”, she finished and glared at Sam.

Wow, she’s mean now, you thought.

Sam clenched his jaw, “Don’t blow smoke. I was on the run, too.”

“Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore. I can’t. My own father doesn’t know where I am.”

Hearing that made you feel sorry for her. Your belief, that the whole thing with the Accords was stupid and useless if the people who fought for and against it were still suffering, stood still.

“Listen… Sharon, we need your help”, Bucky pleaded and Sharon chuckled, “Please”, he added for good measure.

She took in your messy and helpless selves and sighed, lowering her gun finally.

“This isn’t over. I have a place in High Town. You’ll be safe there for a while”, she conceded and guided you all away from the filthy streets.

-

“You okay?”, you stretched your arms and your concerned murmur reached Bucky. He turned to look at you hesitantly, falling into step with you.

“Yeah…yeah. I’m alright. Don’t worry”, he tried to give you a smile but it ended up looking pained, the low lighting making his eye wrinkles stand out. You scoffed, almost sure that he doesn’t realise how expressive his face is.

“You know, for a trained assassin, you’re the worst liar, and actor, I’ve ever met.”

That got him to break and he chuckled before shaking his head.

“Really though, are you okay? I saw your face back there. Do I need to hurt Zemo?”, you quirked an eyebrow and Bucky scoffed.

“Thanks for the offer, terminator. I’ll definitely take you up on that”, he smirked and you groaned nudging his shoulder with yours. The five of you joined Sharon in her car, making your way to her place.

It was going to be a long and messy night.

Part 8

-

AN: sorry there’s no joaquin in this but i habe structure the story to give the reader their own moment to shine and bond with sambucky. Plus i needed to see them in action too, lol. Hopefully y’all liked this! Will have more action scenes in the next chapter as I’m still trying to figure out how to bring it all together, please excuse me!!

Also it’s a date finally😁😋 and we are unravelling Reader’s past slowly *rubs hands*

taglist: @og-baby-ob14 @littlemsramirez @thejadevvitch @giona45-5

sorry if I didn’t/forgot to tag anyone, reply if you wanna be added to the taglist!

[scarlethexelove]

ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ ꜱʜᴀʀᴏɴ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ꜱʜᴀʀᴏɴ ᴄᴀʀᴛᴇʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ꜱᴏᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴇx), ᴡᴀɴᴅᴀ ᴍᴀxɪᴍᴏꜰꜰ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2095

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ꜱʜᴀʀᴏɴ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʙᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ ɢɪʀʟꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴꜱ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ꜱʜᴀʀᴏɴ ᴘᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏꜱᴘɪᴛᴀʟ?

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ⚠️ᴀʙᴜꜱᴇ⚠️, ⚠️ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ⚠️, ⚠️ɪꜱᴏʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ⚠️, ᴍᴜʀᴅᴇʀ, ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ (ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡᴀɴᴅᴀ)

ᴀ/ɴ: ꜱᴏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ᴡᴀʏ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ɪɴ ꜱᴇᴘᴛᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴏꜰ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ʏᴇᴀʀ ʙᴜᴛ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ɢᴏᴛ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴍᴇꜱꜱᴀɢᴇꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ ᴇᴀʀʟ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪxɪᴇ ᴄʜɪᴄᴋꜱ (ᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪᴄᴋꜱ). ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴀʀᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴅ ɢᴜʏ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ. ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ ʙɪɢ ꜱʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ @wandamaximoffsbadgirl ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʟᴘɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ. ɪ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀ ꜰɪᴄ.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

A small tear runs down your cheek as you watch Wanda walking away. A suitcase pulled behind her as she starts her new life. A new life without you. Everyone always joked you two were inseparable but now things are different.

An arm tightly grips yours and you quickly wipe your cheek. “Baby it's time to go. You still have me.” Sharon whispers in your ear. You nod, she's right you did have her. She was all you had left and so you clung onto her. Following obediently behind, turning back and watching Wanda until you couldn't see her anymore. A flame within you extinguishing with her.

You and Sharon have dated for a year now.  What you haven't realized is how she has slowly isolated you from all your friends and family. Wanda was the last one to stick around and now even she is gone.

You were curled up on the couch, looking at your phone. When was the last time anyone had talked to you? Wanda had been the last one, but it was before she left...she hasn't messaged since.

“What are you looking at?” Sharon's voice cuts through startling you. “No-nothing.” You shouldn't be scared to look at your phone right. You did nothing wrong so why does it feel like you have. Everything has gotten worse since Wanda left. Things have shifted in Sharon and not for the better.

Sharon comes over, trying to take the phone from your hand, gripping at your wrist just to take it from you. Seeing Wanda on your phone has her grip tightening. She pulls you closer, anger seething out. “Why are you waiting for her to contact you!? She left you! Everyone left you but me! Am I not good enough!?” She says through gritted teeth, mear inches from your face.

It takes everything in you not to whimper as her grip tightens and the fear that runs through you. She's right everyone has left you. She's the only person you have left. On her good days she is the sweetest but those days are few and far between now but you keep your hopes up. Hope that Sharon will go back to the woman you fell in love with. At Least you keep telling yourself you loved her.

The days pass and it feels like more bad than good. Everything seems to be setting her off. You can't do anything right. You can't even look at yourself in the mirror anymore...not with the bruises and the hollow look in your eyes nowadays

Today your phone rings for the first time in forever. You rush out of the bathroom and try to get to your phone but you're stopped dead in your tracks when Sharon picks it up and immediately sends it to voicemail. “Sharon.” You let out in frustration as you try to grab your phone from her. 

“I told you, you're mine.” Sharon grips your wrist. You try to pull your arm away and as you do she lets you go and you lose your balance falling down the stairs. That was finally the last straw and you went to one person you knew would help. Natasha, she helped you get a restraining order and move out. Everything seems to finally be looking up.

You stayed with Natasha for a bit and finally saved up enough for your own place, but you should have known better. You had finally moved in and finally had some semblance of normalcy back. That's until you open the door to your sheer horror of Sharon standing in front of you with flowers in her hands.

You try to slam the door shut, but she stops you. Sharon was always stronger than you and though you still tried to push the door she only pushed back harder, making you stumble and fall back into the apartment.

“Baby please.” Sharon walks into your apartment. 

“Sharon I'm not your baby and I have a restraining order. You need to leave.” You try to sound confident but your voice shakes giving you away.

“I know you were upset baby but I've changed. Give me one more chance baby.” Sharon pleads with you, sounding genuine. You don't know if you should believe her or not. She sounds like she really means it. “One date baby. Please, I'll prove it to you.”

You argue with yourself internally. One date can't hurt. “Fine. One date. I get to pick the place.”

She has a wide smile on her face. “Deal.” So you reluctantly get ready for the date while Sharon waits for you sitting on the couch. You feel like it's a whirlwind as you change and head out to a restaurant. You picked somewhere public so you knew she couldn't try anything

It doesn't take long as you both fall into a comfortable conversation. It feels like before, before all the lies and abuse. You let the wall fall as the date goes on. Things feel normal, natural. You had missed this. Could it be better again? Be like this all the time? You feel her hand reach yours, her thumb brushing the back of your hand so gently. You hadn't felt a gentle touch in so long.

All of your walls fall as the date continues. You both walk and talk after eating, holding hands. As the night comes to an end and she walks you home. As you get there and lean against the door frame “This was nice. We should do it again.” You smile. 

“Why not continue it now?”Sharon says and you shake your head.  

“Not tonight.” Sharon looks upset like she wants to say something. To try and convince you, but you kiss her cheek. “Next time.” You say stopping her with the unexpected affection.

So she lets it go for the night. And is convinced for another date later in the week. When that rolls around it goes great. You get closer again and when you finally feel like everything's perfect it starts again. The good days start getting bad again and you know you should leave, but Sharon convinces you to stay, convinces you that she's the only one who's gonna love her. You can't believe how stupid you feel for giving her this second chance.

It all comes to a head one day when you try to go out for the day. “You're not going anywhere. You have stuff to do around the house.” Sharon’s anger already slipping into her words. 

You sigh. “Sharon please. You said you changed.”

You go back and forth until it turns into a screaming match which then gets physical, slapping your face and then grabbing it. “You don't get to go out. You stay here and do as you're fucking told!” You feel so small when she towers over you, voice booming and hands on you.

Your voice is small as you speak. “P-please Sharon. I ne-need out.” 

Sharon’s grip on your face tightens. “I said no you fucking dumb whore.” Her hand goes up and she backhands you now. By the way this is going you know it's not going to end well so you try to fight back.

You certainly try and it ends up worse than ever. With you in the hospital. A broken nose, busted lip, bruised ribs. Everything hurt so much as you stared up at the ceiling. “How could I be so stupid?” You whisper to yourself while Nat had stepped out and tears run down your cheeks

You hadn't even heard the door open before a familiar soft voice broke through. “You're not stupid.” Your head snaps up seeing Wanda. You viciously wipe your tears. Hissing in pain. “Sweetheart.” She is quickly next to you pulling your hands away and gently wiping your tears away. 

“Why are you here?" Your voice is small. 

“I'm still your emergency contact. They called me first.” Wanda’s voice was soft. Soft as if you were a deer ready to bolt. 

You never wanted her to see you like this. It makes you want to cry more. “Oh...I'm sorry...you were states away...you didn't have to come Wands.” You look up at her eyes still blurry. 

Wanda just smiles down at you. “It was worth it. Anything for you is worth it to me.”

Your lip wobbles as a small sob escapes your lips. You've missed Wanda so much and to see her here now you don't know what to do. Wanda's heart breaks as she slides into the bed next to you being gentle not to hurt you. You grip her shirt as you cry into her. “I'm sorry.” You sob.

Wanda rubs your back, gently humming as she rocks you. “There is nothing for you to be sorry about sweetheart.” She soothes you back down until you're practically asleep in her arms. You want to blame it on the meds they gave you, but she always made you feel so safe. She makes a vow that she won't let Sharon touch you ever again. She hates herself for ever leaving you with her. She has to tell you now how much she loves you, even if it ruins everything.

Wanda takes a deep breath. “Sweetheart?” She asks softly. You look up at her sleepily, vulnerable, she can see it on your face. 

“Hm?” You ask, blinking a few times up at her to get the sleep out of them. 

“I love you. I have for a really long time, but I never wanted it to ruin this, us. I know I should have just said it before, but I just–” You cut her off, pulling her down and kissing her, not caring that it hurt your lip.

Wanda holds onto you as you melt into her. When you finally pull back from the kiss you're slightly out of breath. “I love you too wands.” 

She leans her forehead against yours. “I'm never leaving you again. I'm never going to let her hurt you again. I'll kill her if I have to.” Wanda mumbles between the mixed air.

You melt into her. You feel so safe and loved and protected with her. “That doesn't sound like a half bad idea.” You mumble against her.

“I will do anything to protect you detka.” Wanda brushes some hair out of your face, with a soft smile on her face. 

You know it's genuine coming from her. Nuzzling against her hand and smiling for the first time in months. “I know you would Wands.”

Both of your minds start to wonder about how to get rid of Sharon. Can you actually kill her and get away with it? Once you're out of the hospital the two of you plot a way to do it. You plan it out perfectly. 

Poison is what you both settle on. It would take nothing to convince Sharon to come over so that you execute your plan. You have her come over. A tasteless, odorless poison in her drink. She thinks nothing of it until she's choking and Wanda comes out from the other room. Watching her with a smile as she sputters for air.

Wanda gives you a kiss as she wraps her arms around you. She turns to look at Sharon. “You'll never hurt her again. No one for that matter.” You can't help but giggle and nuzzle into Wanda.

You can't believe you did it and got away with it. Life just felt great now. You never had to worry about it anymore. You were safe with Wanda always.

The cops came by looking for Sharon but it wasn't because she was missing. She had also gotten herself into more trouble than what she had done to you. The cops asked if you saw her which obviously you said you hadn't since the attack.

Of course they believed you. How could they not? With the record she had racked up they assumed she fled the state. As you waved the cops off Wanda's arms wrapped around you from behind. Her chin resting on your shoulder as the two of you watched from the front porch as the cops drove away

You turned in her hold and smiled up at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “Thank you, love.” 

Wanda chuckles lightly. “For what detka?”

 You can help the smile that spreads across your face. “For saving me.” She leans down with a smile, kissing you tenderly, passionately. You knew this was meant to be. You were always supposed to end up with Wanda.

[literaryavenger]

Steve: Can you at least *try* to be nice to Sharon?

Y/N: To what point?

Steve: She’s my girlfriend! And you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, you know?

Y/N: You catch even more flies with manure, what’s your point?

Steve:

Y/N:

Steve: I don’t-

Bucky, appearing suddenly in Winter Soldier mode: She’s right.

Sam: *Lets out a high pitched scream*

[lacy-oh-lacy]

Who fell first and who fell harder?

⤷Marvel Edition

She fell first but you fell harder:

Kate Bishop, Jane Foster, Sharon Carter

You fell first but she fell harder:

Natasha Romanoff, Nebula, Valkyrie, Carol Danvers, Agatha Harkness

You fell first and harder:

Gamora, Peggy Carter, Shuri, Maria Hill

She fell first and harder:

Wanda Maximoff, Mantis, Rio Vidal

[angelremnants]

American Wedding | S. Rogers

summary : Steve Rogers is throwing himself into mission after mission, trying to outrun the weight of his past—his unresolved feelings for Sharon and the lingering memories of Peggy. But when his commanding officers force him to take a break, Steve ends up on a staycation in Barbados. What begins as a forced respite soon becomes a much-needed escape as he unexpectedly finds healing, peace, and even a connection in the warmth of the Caribbean sun. Steve learns to let go of the past and finally breathe again, even if it’s just for a short while. Inspired by American Wedding (unreleased) by Frank Ocean.

pairing : Steve Rogers x f!reader

warnings : Fluff to angst, imposed traits on the reader such as an origin, emotional healing, mention of past relationships, themes of healing and self-discovery, themes of arranged marriages and family pressure, mentions of emotional and familial abuse, a bit of hurt/comfort, bittersweet ending, mentions of past trauma, mild language. Proceed with caution if you're sensitive to such material.

word count : 12.1k

author's notes : I don't know what's wrong with me and writing long fics with major angst. I think I might have a problem.

If you're still as hooked in the MCU fandom as I am, then it shouldn't be a surprise for you that I stumbled upon the infamous Steve edit on American Wedding. Steve was my first little crush when I started getting into the MCU; he might not be my number one anymore, but I couldn't help but be mesmerized by the work and how well it could somehow fit the vibe of our golden boy.

Side note, I chose Barbados just because I love Rihanna (plus, the country is as gorgeous as she is). I tried to respect the culture as much as I could, but please do let me know if something is amiss. Anyways, here's my take on what this song could mean if associated with America's Ass greatest soldier.

(ao3 version)

The mission was over.

Steve Rogers had traded his usual Captain America tight suit for average civilian clothes and now stood just outside a bustling café in Bridgetown, the late afternoon sun casting a golden hue over the vibrant streets of Barbados. He should’ve been relieved. The intel was secured, the rogue operation dismantled, and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were already working to extract the rest of the loose ends. But instead, Steve felt a familiar weight settle on his shoulders, one he couldn’t quite shake.

The air was heavy with the scent of fried fish and spices, and the sound of calypso music drifted from a nearby street performer. Locals walked by, some glancing curiously at the tall, broad-shouldered man who looked distinctly out of place. Steve’s fingers hovered over his phone, debating whether to call in and request another assignment.

Then, his phone buzzed in his hand, and the name Tony Stark lit up the screen.

Steve answered with a sigh, already bracing himself. “Stark.”

“Capsicle! How’s my favorite star-spangled soldier doing?” Tony’s voice was chipper, the sound of clinking glasses and faint jazz music in the background.

“I’m fine,” Steve replied, scanning the street as though someone might overhear. “Why are you calling?”

“Well, it’s not to remind you to update your playlist based on what I’m hearing in the background—though, seriously, we need to talk about that at some point.” Tony didn’t wait for a response. “No, I’m calling to let you know that for the first time in, oh, forever, we’re at a lull. No alien invasions. No rogue A.I.s. No infinity stones threatening to wipe out half the universe. You know what that means?”

Steve frowned. “That it’s time to prepare for the next crisis?”

Tony let out a dramatic groan. “And people say I’m the workaholic. No, Cap. It means you get a break.”

Steve rolled his eyes, leaning against the café’s wooden railing. “I don’t need a break, Tony. There’s always something that needs to be done—”

“Yeah, no. I’m gonna stop you right there.” Tony’s voice turned pointed, though there was still a hint of his trademark sarcasm. “I talked to Fury, and even he thinks you’ve been overdoing it. And considering the guy’s idea of a vacation involves a bunker and a bottle of bourbon, that’s saying something.”

“I’m fine,” Steve insisted, his tone tightening.

“Fine? Really? I mean, do you even know what day it is? Look, pretty much everyone’s off the grid—Sam, Natasha, even Clint’s in retirement mode. And I’m finally getting around to that honeymoon thing with Pepper because, you know, saving the world isn’t as good for a marriage as you’d think. So you? You need to chill.”

“Tony, I’m fine,” Steve had insisted, though even he didn’t sound convincing.

“Yeah, sure. That’s why you’ve been taking back-to-back missions for the past three months. What’s next? Fighting a volcano?”

Steve opened his mouth to respond, then realized he didn’t.

Tony took his silence as confirmation. “Listen, you’re not a machine, Cap. Even super-soldiers need to decompress. Which is why I, in all my infinite wisdom, am forcing you to take some time off.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tony—”

“Ah-ah! No arguments. Fury’s covering part of the bill, and I’m picking up the rest because I’m such a generous friend. You pick the place—anywhere in the world—and I’ll make it happen. You’re welcome.”

Steve glanced around, his eyes lingering on the vibrant life of the island. The azure waters sparkled in the distance, and the rhythmic sway of the palm trees seemed to beckon him. He hadn’t allowed himself a moment to breathe in months, maybe years.

“I don’t know,” Steve said slowly.

Tony groaned again, louder this time. “Come on, Cap. It’s not like I’m asking you to take a yoga class in Malibu. Though, honestly, you’d kill it in downward dog. No, I’m telling you to pick a nice spot, kick back, and—God forbid—relax for once in your life.”

“Tony—”

“Let me paint you a picture,” Tony interrupted, his tone turning theatrical. “A beachfront villa. Sunsets so pretty they’ll make you cry. Maybe a fruity drink with one of those little umbrellas—wait, scratch that, you’re more of a ‘beer and brooding’ guy. The point is, take the damn vacation, Steve. Doctor’s orders.”

Steve sighed, looking out the window of the outpost at the vibrant streets of Bridgetown. “I’ll stay here,” he said finally. “Barbados seems… peaceful.”

“Atta boy!” Tony cheered. “I’ll wire the funds. And hey, if you don’t send me at least one picture of you in a Hawaiian shirt, I’m gonna be very disappointed.”

Steve couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t. I have a reputation to maintain.”

The line went dead, leaving Steve alone with the sounds of the island.

⠀⠀

The first few days in Barbados passed in a blur of quiet solitude. Steve spent most of his time walking along the beach or sitting on the villa’s small porch, nursing a cold drink while the sun dipped below the horizon. For someone used to the constant hum of battlefields, strategy meetings, and high-stakes missions, the stillness was almost unnerving.

But it wasn’t just the quiet that unsettled him—it was the thoughts he’d been pushing aside for months. Thoughts of Sharon.

He’d tried not to dwell on their break-up, but here, surrounded by the warmth and beauty of the island, the memories crept in uninvited. Their relationship had ended just weeks ago, though the cracks had been there for far longer. She had been kind, understanding, and steadfast—everything Steve thought he should want. But every time he looked at her, a small, nagging voice whispered the truth he didn’t want to face.

She was Peggy’s niece.

No matter how much he tried to compartmentalize it, the connection was impossible to ignore. Every time Sharon smiled, there was a flicker of something familiar—her determination, her poise, even the way she carried herself. It wasn’t fair to either of them, but Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been chasing a shadow of the past. Sharon deserved more than that, and so did he.

When they’d finally called it quits, Sharon had been the one to speak the words he couldn’t bring himself to say.

“You’re still carrying her with you, Steve,” she’d said, her voice calm but heavy with resignation. “And maybe you always will. But I can’t be her for you. I don’t want to be.”

The guilt had followed him ever since. Sharon had been right. For all the years that had passed, Peggy still lingered in the corners of his mind—her voice, her laugh, the way she’d believed in him when no one else did. He hadn’t just been grieving Sharon’s absence; he was grieving Peggy all over again.

By the third day, Steve found himself wandering into a bustling part of Bridgetown, hoping the sights and sounds of the island might distract him. The streets were alive with energy—locals bartering at colorful market stalls, tourists snapping photos of historic buildings, and the rhythmic beat of soca music weaving through it all.

“Yuh lookin’ lost, boss,” a young man called out from behind a coconut cart. He was grinning, a machete in hand as he expertly cracked open a coconut.

Steve glanced back at him. “Just exploring.” 

“Ah, well, yuh gotta try dis,” the man said, handing him a freshly cut coconut. “Yuh look like yuh could use a lil’ taste of Bajan life. Fresh coconut water! Or yuh scared of a lil’ machete work?”

Steve smirked politely but didn’t respond, unsure if he was being teased or seriously invited. Before he could decide, you appeared, carrying a basket of fruits and shaking your head with a laugh.

“Jamal, stop tormenting de tourists!” you scolded lightheartedly. “Poor man just tryna enjoy ‘e day without you harassing him.”

Jamal shrugged with a grin, chopping open another coconut. “Ah, just showin’ him how we do it here, yuh know? He look like he need it.”

You turned to Steve, flashing a warm smile. “Ignore him, he does this to everyone. But,” you added, your tone playful, “he’s not wrong. Coconut water will fix whatever ails you. You should try one.”

Steve chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing. “If you say so,” he said, stepping closer.

You nodded approvingly as Jamal handed him the coconut. “See? That wasn’t so hard,” you teased.

Taking a sip, Steve found the cool water surprisingly refreshing. “This is good,” he admitted, glancing at you.

“Good?” you repeated with mock offense. “It’s de best on de island. You’ve got a lot to learn.”

Steve smiled, feeling more at ease than he had in days. “Guess I’ll need a guide, then,” he said, the words slipping out before he could overthink them.

You tilted your head, amusement sparkling in your eyes. “Lucky for you, I know everyone ‘round here. Stick with me, Captain America, and I’ll show you the real Barbados.”

He blinked, surprised you knew who he was.

“Relax,” you said with a wink. “We don’t make a big deal of celebrities' ‘round here. Besides, the way I see it, everybody needs a break—even heroes.”

He guessed he really did well in choosing his destination. 

Steve walked beside you through the busy streets, his coconut still in hand. The initial awkwardness of being recognized faded quickly as you carried the conversation effortlessly, your teasing making him smile more than he had in weeks.

“So, Captain America,” you said, throwing a glance over your shoulder with a grin. “What’s a hero like you doin’ walking ‘round alone in Barbados? Not enough trouble to save us from?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Actually, I’m here because I was told to take a break. Guess I've been working a little too hard lately.”

“Working too hard? You? Never would’ve guessed,” you teased, your tone playful.

Steve shook his head, grinning. “What about you? You seem to know everyone here.”

“I do. Born and raised. And the people here? They’re my family—even Jamal, with his coconut antics,” you said with a laugh. “You stick wit’ me, and I’ll teach you all de secrets of the island.”

“Secrets, huh?” Steve said, his tone tinged with curiosity. “What kind of secrets?”

You stopped suddenly and gestured toward a small, colorful shack by the road. “For starters, the best fish cutters on the island are right here. Come, you can’t visit Barbados and not try one.”

Steve followed you to the shack, where an older man greeted you like an old friend. As you chatted easily with him, ordering food, Steve found himself watching you with a kind of quiet admiration. You were easygoing, quick to laugh, and had a warmth about you that was magnetic.

When the fish cutters arrived, you handed one to Steve. “Here. And don’t even think of saying it’s just ‘good.’ Dis is heaven in bread.”

He took a bite, his eyes widening. “Wow. Okay, you’re right—this is incredible.”

You smirked. “Told you. The locals always know best.”

As the two of you walked along the beach, the conversation grew more personal. You asked about his life back home, and he answered honestly, even about the heartbreak he was still trying to shake.

“So, this Sharon,” you said carefully, “she’s Peggy’s niece?”

Steve nodded, looking sheepish. “Yeah. It’s… complicated.”

“You think?” you teased gently, bumping your shoulder against his. “Sounds messy. But you know what? Sometimes you just need to let go of what’s complicated and hold on to what’s simple.”

“And what’s simple?” Steve asked, curious.

You stopped walking and turned to face him, your expression soft but playful. “This,” you said, gesturing to the ocean. “Good food, good company, and a little bit of adventure.” He smiled, the sincerity in your voice hitting him in a way he didn’t expect. “I think I’m starting to see your point.”

⠀⠀

Over the next few days, you made good on your promise to show Steve the best of Barbados. True to your word, you showed Steve places that weren’t in any guidebook, sharing bits of history and culture along the way.

“This,” you said one morning, gesturing to a vibrant, bustling market, “is where you get the freshest fruit on the island. And where you learn to bargain.”

Steve watched in awe as you haggled with a vendor, the two of you laughing and bantering in a mix of Bajan dialect and English. When you returned with a bag of mangos and papayas, he raised a brow.

“You just got all that for half the price,” he said.

“Yup,” you said with a grin, popping a slice of mango into your mouth. “You're lucky you've got me, Captain. Otherwise, they’d have charged you double for being a tourist.”

“Good thing I’ve got you,” he said, his tone warm.

Later, you took him to a rum distillery, where you explained the process of making Barbados’ world-famous rum, teasing him as he tried a sample and coughed slightly at the burn.

“That strong for you, Cap?”

“Not strong enough to knock me out,” he replied, his voice laced with humor.

You then took him to the lively Oistins Fish Fry, where he tried grilled marlin and danced awkwardly but earnestly to soca music. You dragged him to Harrison’s Cave, laughing as he marveled at the limestone formations.

“You look like a kid seeing snow for de first time,” you teased.

“I’ve been frozen in snow for seventy years,” he replied, deadpan.

You burst out laughing, and even he cracked a smile at his own joke.

One afternoon, you led him on a hike up to Cherry Tree Hill, where the view of the rolling hills and turquoise ocean was breathtaking. As you stood beside him, the wind tugging at your dress, you glanced at him with a smile.

“You're not bad company, you know,” you said.

“Neither are you,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in that signature half-smile.

“You keep looking at me like that, and I might think you’re sweet on me, Captain.”

Steve’s cheeks flushed faintly, but he held your gaze. “And what if I am?”

Your eyebrows shot up, surprised but delighted. “Well, then,” you said, stepping closer, “I hope you know you’re in for one hell of a ride.”

As the two of you strolled along a quieter path near the beach, the sunlight danced through the palm trees, and Steve couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm he hadn’t experienced in months. He looked over at you, smiling at how animatedly you were explaining the significance of the bright kites dotting the sky—something about “kite season” and friendly neighborhood competitions.

“You know,” Steve said after a moment, “your accent isn’t quite like everyone else’s around here. It’s still got that lilt, but… it’s different.”

You glanced at him, a little surprised. “You noticed that, huh?”

He nodded. “I guess I’ve got an ear for detail. What’s the story there?”

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Well, I went abroad for a few years—took my undergrad in the U.S. and just came back home recently.”

“Really?” Steve asked, intrigued. “What’d you study?”

As you walked beside Steve, your voice became more animated as you shared the kind of work you had done during your studies. “Well, when I was in the States for my undergrad, I did my thesis on cultural practices, specifically exploring the dynamics between traditional marriage structures and modern society.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? That sounds… complex. What kind of structures?”

“Yuh know, I looked into things like arranged marriages and how they vary across different cultures,” you explained, eyes sparkling with passion. “One part of my research focused on Islamic marriage traditions, particularly around the roles of brides and how modern perspectives are influencing those practices. It wasn’t about judging or anything, just trying to understand how people make it work, despite some of the harsh stereotypes.”

“Wow,” Steve said thoughtfully, clearly impressed. “Sounds like you dove deep into it. You didn’t go for the easy topics, huh?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, not really. I wanted to tackle something meaningful. And, for me, it was important to explore how even with things like hijabs or polygamy, those traditions have layers, especially when it comes to women’s agency. It’s all about perspective.”

Steve nodded, clearly fascinated by your work. “It’s amazing how much you can learn when you dig into a topic. I guess that’s why you came back here, huh? To work on making a difference in your community.”

You smiled softly, thinking back on your time abroad. “Yeah. I learned a lot, but I always knew I’d come home. There’s so much to do here, and I want to make sure we’re not losing our identity as we modernize. Barbados is home, and I want to help make sure it stays that way.”

You laughed at the thought, shrugging. “Guess it’s de island girl in me. This place is part of who I am. But,” you added with a sheepish grin, “spendin’ so much time abroad, I guess I picked up a bit of de American accent. It slips in sometimes when I talk.”

“I think it’s kind of charming,” Steve said, surprising even himself with the comment.

You raised a brow at him, a slow smile spreading across your lips. “Careful, Captain, or I might think you’re tryin’ to sweet-talk me.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish but amused. “Maybe I am.”

Your laugh rang out, light and melodic. “Well, you’re not too bad at it.”

At one point, while they were sitting on a beachside bench, a gentle breeze tugging at their clothes, Steve caught her eye, and she smiled. That smile. He swore it was the brightest thing in the world, even more stunning than the sun hanging low in the sky behind her.

The conversation continued, with Steve steering it back toward you. He asked about your time abroad, what it was like living away from home, and what made you choose environmental science in the first place.

“And what about you?” you countered, tilting your head as you studied him. “You’ve been saving the world for what—over a century now?”

He chuckled. “Not quite that long, but close.”

“Doesn’t seem like you’re slowin’ down anytime soon,” you said, your voice softer now. “But, Steve… don’t you ever just want to stop for a bit? Live a little for yourself?”

Your question caught him off guard. For a moment, he was quiet, the only sounds around you were the gentle crash of waves and the rustle of the wind in the trees.

“I guess I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted.

As you sat on the beach watching the sun dip below the horizon, you turned to Steve with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“So,” you began, “how do you feel about weddings?”

He looked at you warily. “Weddings?”

“Yeah. My… um, distant relative—you probably need a map to figure out how we’re related—is getting married this weekend. It’s a small thing,” you said, “But it’s a family event. You know how it is—everyone wants to show up and make it ‘extra’ for the aunties.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m guessing it’s not going to be your average wedding then?”

“Oh, no,” you grinned, “Think small chapel, a few too many drinks, maybe a bit of dancing, and a lot of awkward family members trying to act like they haven’t been feuding for the past ten years. But, you know, in the best way possible.”

Steve found himself laughing along with you, the ease between you two growing stronger by the minute.

“Actually,” you said with a mischievous grin, “It’s going to be kind of hilarious. I was thinking…” You paused, glancing over at him. “You wanna come with me? As my… plus one?”

Steve blinked in surprise, but there was something about the way you said it, as if you didn’t mind the idea of being together at such a personal family event. “I mean, are you sure? I’m probably not what your family had in mind when they thought ‘plus one,’” he joked, a smile tugging at his lips.

You shrugged, the motion casual, but your gaze was intense. “Honestly, I don’t think anyone really knows what they’re getting when they invite me. And trust me, you’ll be far more interesting than the rest of my relatives.” You glanced at him sideways with a grin. “Besides, maybe they’ll like you more than me.”

“Are you trying to get me to go to your wedding as an act of charity?” he teased.

You laughed. “No, I’m offering you a chance to be part of something completely ridiculous, and trust me, you’ll be talking about it for years.”

“Well, in that case,” Steve said, pretending to think it over, “I guess I’ll be there. But you’ve got to warn me beforehand if there’s any kind of dancing involved. I’m not exactly a pro.”

Your grin widened. “Deal.”

⠀⠀

You had parted your ways when it was well into the night, and soon enough, Steve found himself back in his quaint hotel room, listening to the peaceful waves of the ocean. He laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his mind drifting back to the hours he’d spent with you earlier.

He couldn’t help but replay the way you looked again and again in his mind. The first thing that struck him was how effortlessly beautiful you were. Your skin had looked golden when it caught the sunlight, in a way that made everything around you seem brighter, like you were glowing from within. Your hair had framed your face in soft waves, a contrast to your sun-kissed skin that made you seem like you belonged to the island itself. It hadn’t just been the way you looked, though; it had been the way you carried yourself. You had moved with such ease, like you were perfectly in tune with the world around you, as though every step was measured but never forced.

Your eyes—those eyes—were a shade that had seemed almost impossible, warm and deep, with a spark that made it clear you were fully present, fully alive in every conversation. When you spoke, it had been with an accent that was distinctly Barbadian, but there was a softness to it, a hint of something else—like you’d been somewhere far from home and had returned with more layers than when you left. Your smile had been what had undone him, though. It hadn’t just been the way it lit up your face, but the way it had made him feel like he was the only one in the world you were focusing on, even if it had been just for a moment.

And it hadn’t just been your looks—Steve knew he hadn’t felt this way about someone in years, the way his heart had seemed to skip when you caught his gaze, the way the mere thought of you had made him feel like a teenager again, nervous and unsure but eager all the same. The more he thought about you, the more the feeling had intensified, like a slow burn in his chest. He had tried to push it down, telling himself it had just been the heat, just the newness of it all, but deep down, he had known it wasn’t that simple. He had found something in you, something that had made the weight of everything else just… fade away.

The way you had laughed, your smile so effortless, like you were a living embodiment of the sun that bathed the island in warmth. There had been something about you that had made his chest tighten—something magnetic, yet disarmingly genuine. He had expected a brief distraction on this trip, maybe a drink with a stranger. Instead, you had effortlessly captivated him. Your energy had been infectious, and even in the quiet moments, you had a way of drawing him in. The little quirks of your accent, the way you’d pause mid-sentence to correct yourself, as if speaking a second language you hadn’t used in too long—there had been a vulnerability in it that had made you all the more endearing.

And then there had been the tattoo. That damn tattoo. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He had barely even paid attention to it at first, but after spending hours with you, it had stood out more, like a proud branding. A temporary tattoo you had convinced him to get while you were strolling around. It had been a simple design, a swirling wave pattern across his left hand, something that had matched the feeling of freedom he’d had with you that day. He had looked down at his hand now, the ink still vivid, but with a hint of purple-ish blue where it was starting to fade. You had laughed when he’d rolled up his sleeve to show you, clearly impressed by how well it had suited him. He had never thought he’d have fun getting a tattoo, temporary or not, but the experience had been entirely different with you. Everything had felt light, effortless, fun.

As his mind had wandered further, Steve had found himself imagining something he hadn’t thought about in a long time: the future. The thought of you in a wedding gown, walking down the aisle toward him, had made his heart race. He couldn’t help but picture it, absurdly vivid—you, laughing under the lights, your eyes sparkling as you smiled at him in that way only you could. He’d be there, in a tux, grinning like a fool, probably fumbling over his vows. He could almost hear the judge’s voice, telling them to kiss, and there you’d be—his wife, laughing with him as you made it official in a courthouse with nothing but your hearts and a rush of love propelling you forward. The thought had made him shake his head in surprise, crimson adorning his cheeks. It had been ridiculous, yet it had felt so very real. He had been falling for you in ways he never thought possible.

He had tried to focus on other things—his next move, the mission he had just completed—but as much as he had tried, the tattoo had kept pulling his attention back to you. It hadn’t just been the design; it had been the way it had been something shared between you. A small, playful gesture, but one that had made the whole day feel… connected. He had smiled to himself, the thought of you making his heart race again. He had shifted uncomfortably under the covers, trying to shake off the sudden rush of warmth that had pooled in his stomach.

But as much as he had tried to focus on other things, your laugh had kept echoing in his mind, and the image of you running after his vehicle earlier that day had kept replaying, like something out of a dream he didn’t want to wake from. It had been a feeling he hadn’t realized he’d missed—the easy excitement of getting to know someone new. He had rolled over onto his side, trying to get some rest, but his mind wouldn’t quiet. No, he had thought to himself, he wasn’t about to start feeling this way about you. Not now, not when he had so much left unsaid, so many wounds still open. But as sleep had slowly begun to pull him under, that feeling—warm and electric—had lingered in the back of his mind, making it hard to ignore the undeniable pull he had felt toward you.

⠀⠀

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a golden hue over the streets as Steve revved the engine of the bright red 5.0 Mustang he’d rented for his trip. He’d opted for the car, not just for the joy of driving it, but because he thought it might impress you. Plus, he couldn’t deny that he wanted to show off a little, especially when he’d be picking you up from university. He’d learned from your conversations how much effort you’d put into your education and your dedication to your work, and he was eager to see where you spent your days.

He parked the Mustang in front of the university building, its polished surface gleaming under the late afternoon sun. His eyes scanned the steps, waiting for you to appear. He’d offered to take you to the wedding, knowing how much it meant to you. He’d also taken the time to ensure he had the right attire, knowing it would be expected of him. He wanted to be the gentleman. But it wasn’t just about impressing your family; it was about showing you that he respected you, that he was willing to step into your world, no matter how different it might be from his.

Soon, you appeared on the steps, a bundle of papers clutched in your hand—ones you needed to submit for your master’s application—as you hurried down toward him. You wore a light sundress that floated around your figure as you walked toward him, and Steve couldn’t help but notice the way the late afternoon sun made you glow. As you approached the car, you glanced at him with a playful grin, your eyes lighting up when you saw the Mustang.

“You sure know how to make an entrance, huh?” you teased, your voice laced with amusement as you slid into the passenger seat.

Steve chuckled, feeling a slight rush of pride. “Figured I’d try to keep up with you,” he said, glancing at you as he started the engine. “Ready for this?”

You nodded, still smiling. “I’ve never been more ready. Just a heads-up, though—my parents might give you the look. You know, the ‘who is this American?’ look.” You winked, but there was an apprehension in your gaze that made Steve feel like maybe you weren’t entirely at ease either.

“Yeah, I’m used to ‘the look.’” He grinned, determined to be charming despite the tension in the air. After all, he wanted to make you feel at ease.

As the two of you drove toward the wedding venue, Steve kept the conversation light, asking about your studies, your thoughts on the wedding, and what your family was like. You talked about your work with passion, but he couldn’t help but notice the slight apprehension in your tone when you mentioned your parents.

When you arrived, Steve was introduced to your family, his hand shaking politely as he greeted your parents with a well-practiced smile. They weren’t unfriendly, but there was a certain coldness to their demeanor, like they were sizing him up, unsure of what to make of him. Steve, ever the gentleman, took it in stride, asking questions and trying his best to blend in. But as the evening wore on, it became clear that you were not quite as comfortable as you let on.

You were whisked away by your family to change into something more formal, leaving Steve to fend for himself in a crowd of unfamiliar faces. He quietly took a seat, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of you.

As the evening wore on, one of your relatives gently but firmly ushered Steve away from the crowd, leading him to a room at the back of the venue where an array of Barjan formal attire awaited him. The family had been insistent on ensuring he was properly dressed for the occasion, a tradition that Steve hadn’t anticipated.

“I guess I’ll have to dress the part,” Steve muttered to himself, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as the servant handed him a traditional Barjan tuxedo. It wasn’t quite what he’d expected, but he knew better than to argue—you had asked for him to be taken care of, and he wanted to honor that.

The outfit was stunning: a sharply tailored jacket with intricate gold embroidery at the collar and cuffs, paired with sleek trousers that tapered perfectly at the ankle. The fabric was a rich, deep shade of midnight blue that shimmered under the light, and the shirt underneath was a crisp white with a soft sheen. He looked at himself in the mirror, admiring the polished shoes and the way the suit fit him perfectly, as though he’d been born to wear it.

Once dressed, Steve rejoined the others in the main hall, where he was greeted by your family, all clad in their formal Barjan attire. The women wore elegant, flowing gowns with intricate beadwork and colorful patterns that reflected the island’s natural beauty. The men wore similarly rich outfits, with patterned vests and gold-accented details that gave them an air of authority and elegance. Steve felt like he’d been transported to another world, one full of tradition, culture, and beauty.

Then, finally, you entered, and Steve’s breath caught in his throat. You looked radiant. Your dress was everything he’d imagined and more: a delicate, embroidered gown with a soft blush hue, its flowing fabric catching the light with every step. The intricate patterns on your dress mirrored the ones in your family’s attire, as though you were all part of one elaborate, elegant tapestry. Your hair was let loose in its natural soft waves, and the sparkle in your eyes made you seem even more ethereal.

You smiled when you saw him, and Steve felt his chest tighten with something he couldn’t quite put into words. “You look… incredible,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your grin widened at the compliment, your eyes twinkling. “Thank you,” you replied, your tone light but warm. 

They shared a quiet moment, their connection palpable. The formal attire, the elegance of the night—it all felt surreal, yet right at the same time.

You shared a quiet moment, the connection between you palpable. The formal attire, the elegance of the night—it all felt surreal, yet right at the same time.

Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off you as the wedding celebration rolled on. You were radiant, your smile lighting up the room, but it wasn’t just your looks that had him captivated. It was the way you carried yourself, effortlessly blending into the crowd while still standing out. He wasn’t used to feeling this way—not amid all the military stuff he had been through, not after everything he’d seen. But with you, it was different.

As you stood by the drinks table, Steve couldn’t resist a smile. “You clean up pretty well,” he said, the words coming out more smoothly than he intended, but it was true. You looked stunning in that dress, your laughter echoing in his chest like a warm melody.

You looked over at him with teasing eyes. “For a guy who usually wears a uniform, you look pretty good in that suit yourself.”

“Well, I’m trying to keep up with you,” he replied, giving you a half-smirk. “You know, trying to make a good impression.”

You leaned closer, your voice dropping just slightly, playful but with that edge of seriousness Steve had come to recognize. “You don’t need to try so hard,” you said, your words almost sounding like a challenge. “You’ve already impressed me.”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t know what it was about you that got under his skin like this, but the way you made him feel was disorienting, like the ground wasn’t quite steady beneath him. It had been a long time since he’d felt this much—anything, really.

“So,” he said, trying to keep his composure, “what’s next? You’ve already got my attention, and I’m starting to think that’s the only thing I’m focused on tonight.”

Your lips curved into a smile, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, I guess maybe you should focus on me a little more,” you hinted, but there was something deeper in your voice, a subtle invitation that made Steve want to step closer. “After all, there’s still plenty of weddings left, Captain.”

Steve blinked at the title, his face softening into a grin. “I’m not used to being called that at a party,” he joked, though his mind was already on the edge, keeping himself from crossing the line. He wasn’t used to this kind of playful banter. In the military, things were direct, and to the point. But with you, it was different. You made him feel… lighter. He’d never thought he’d feel this way, especially not in the middle of something so unfamiliar, like a wedding halfway around the world.

He leaned in slightly, just enough to get your attention. “But I’ll insist, you’ve got me distracted, more than I thought possible.”

You laughed softly, as though you were enjoying the chase, but you stayed close enough that their words felt like a secret between the two of them. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” you replied, your voice carrying the slightest hint of playfulness. “Though, maybe I should keep you on your toes a little longer. Can’t make it too easy for you, Captain.”

Before Steve could respond, your parents arrived, their presence immediately cooling the warm atmosphere between them. The formalities kicked back in, and Steve felt a slight shift in your demeanor. You seemed to retreat into yourself a bit, your expression faltering. Steve’s protective instincts flared, but he knew better than to interrupt family matters.

You tried to give him a reassuring smile as you spoke, but it wasn’t enough. Your parents were speaking to you in hushed tones, their words sharp, but Steve managed to catch bits and pieces with his super-soldier hearing. “You’ll marry him soon. It’s already arranged,” your mother’s voice was firm, but there was an undeniable sense of finality in it.

Your expression darkened as you listened, your hands gripping the fabric of your dress as if trying to hold yourself together. Steve’s heart ached for you. He didn’t know what was entirely being said, but he could see the pain in you eyes. He wasn’t about to let this go unnoticed, not when it was clear you needed support.

Without a second thought, he moved toward you, gently pushing through the crowd to reach your side. As soon as you saw him, you turned away from your parents, your face clearly harboring a mix of frustration and sadness.

“[Y/N]?” Steve called out softly, his voice full of concern as he reached out to you.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you hurried toward the back of the venue, away from the eyes of your family, with Steve following close behind.

“Hey, hey,” he said, catching up with you and gently taking your arm. “What’s going on?”

You looked at him, your eyes wide with emotion. “They… they’ve already arranged my marriage, Steve,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “To someone I don’t even know.”

⠀⠀

The drive back to the beach was quiet. The low rumble of the engine was the only sound between you as Steve kept his eyes on the road, his knuckles white against the steering wheel. The Mustang purred beneath you, but it felt hollow in the silence that stretched out like the ocean you were heading toward. Steve was trying to give you space, but the tension between you was palpable. He knew you were struggling, knew that what had happened at the wedding had cracked something wide open. The weight of it all hung heavily in the air, thick and suffocating.

The soft hum of the ocean was the only sound that accompanied you as you walked along the shore. The sand beneath your feet was cool from the night air, and the sky was dotted with stars, but the world felt heavy around you. You stayed quiet, your steps slow, your mind racing with the events that had just unfolded. Steve kept a careful distance, giving you space, but his mind was working overtime—trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

You reached the spot where you had stood together the day before, where the horizon stretched out before you, untouched and endless. The contrast between that peaceful moment and this was sharp. He could still see the laughter in your eyes, the carefree joy you had shared—but now, your face was clouded with doubt and fear.

Steve paused for a moment, looking at you as you stared out into the dark expanse of the ocean. He wanted to fix this, to do something, anything, to take away the pain that had suddenly overwhelmed you, but he knew this was something only you could express. He was here to listen, to be present, and that was what mattered right now.

You broke the silence, your voice barely audible over the crashing waves. “I thought I had more time, Steve. I thought I had figured things out. I worked so hard for this freedom.” Your voice cracked as you looked at him, tears welling in your eyes. “I thought that if I could prove myself, if I could show them that I could make something of my life… they’d let me go. But now, they’ve taken everything. They hid my passport. They took my money. And now, I have nothing.”

The raw vulnerability in your voice hit him harder than he expected. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out instinctively, resting on your shoulder. You flinched at the touch but didn’t pull away. You needed comfort—he could feel it, even if you weren’t sure you wanted to accept it.

“[Y/N]…” he whispered, his voice full of empathy. He didn’t know what to say, not really. What could he say to make this better? But you kept going, your words tumbling out like a dam had broken.

“I came back thinking everything would be different,” you continued, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “I thought if I came back successful, I could change their minds. But they’ve already planned everything. They’ve arranged my marriage to someone I’ve never met… and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Steve’s heart sank as he heard the desperation in your voice. He wanted to scream, wanted to fight, to tell you that you didn’t deserve this, that you didn’t have to go through this alone. But instead, he just wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, offering you the one thing he could give—comfort.

“You’re not alone, sweetheart,” he said quietly, his voice soft but firm. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You pressed your face against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like… to be trapped like this, with no way out. I can’t even run anymore.”

Steve tightened his hold on you, feeling the weight of your pain in his bones. He had faced his fair share of burdens, of being trapped by duty, but this—this was different. You weren’t bound by a war or a mission. You were bound by a life you hadn’t chosen, a future your parents had decided for you.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said again, his voice hoarse. “We’ll figure this out. I don’t know how, but I’m not going to let them take you from your life.”

You pulled back slightly, your face streaked with tears, your breath ragged. Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he truly meant it. That he wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear.

“I don’t even know how to fight this anymore,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “They have everything… They control everything. And I just wanted to live my life. I just wanted a chance to choose.”

Steve cupped your face gently in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. “And you will. We’ll find a way. You’re not stuck. I promise you that.”

The tension between you was thick, raw, and emotional. It wasn’t just about the fight against your parents. It was about everything that had been left unsaid, everything that had been building between you. The air between you crackled with unspoken words, a connection that had been forged over the past couple of days but hadn’t fully been explored until now.

“I can’t let you go through this alone,” Steve said, his voice low and steady. “Not now. Not ever.”

You searched his eyes, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. There was a tension in the air—an unspoken connection that hung between you like a spark, waiting for someone to ignite it. Steve wasn’t sure who moved first, but before he could think twice, you closed the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both tender and urgent. The world seemed to fall away in that instant, leaving just the two of you in the quiet of the night, where nothing else mattered.

When you finally pulled apart, your breaths shallow, you looked at him, your eyes searching his face. “I never wanted to drag you into this, Steve,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m scared.”

Steve cupped your face gently, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “You’re not dragging me into anything, [Y/N]. I want to be here. With you.” His voice was steady, but the emotion behind it was raw and real. “Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

You nodded, your lips trembling as you tried to hold back more tears. “But it’s too much. This wedding, this whole thing… it was supposed to be my escape, and now it feels like my worst nightmare.”

Steve leaned his forehead against yours, the cool air of the night brushing against you. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady the turmoil inside of him. “Look, maybe this doesn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But you’ve got me, sweetheart. You don’t have to pretend like it doesn’t matter to me. It means something. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes softened at his words, and despite the storm of emotions, you found comfort in his touch, in the sincerity in his eyes. The tension between you was palpable, but in that moment, it wasn’t just about what you had, or the mess of your circumstances. It was about a promise—unspoken but understood—that you would face this together, no matter what it took.

“I can’t promise things will be easy,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But… maybe if you stay, if we try, we could figure this out. Together.”

Steve kissed your forehead softly, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “We’ll figure it out,” he promised. “You’re not alone in this. Not anymore.”

And as you stood there, under the stars, in a moment that felt timeless, Steve knew one thing for sure—whatever came next, he wasn’t going to let you face it without him.

⠀⠀

The air in Steve’s hotel room hit you differently now—quieter, heavier. The events of the day loomed between you both: the wedding and the weight of your revelation. After the drive back to the beach, you couldn’t bring yourself to return home, unwilling to face the reality waiting for you there. Steve had insisted you stay with him for the night—he couldn’t bear the thought of you facing it all alone, especially not now. He didn’t have all the answers, but he knew he couldn’t just do nothing.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Steve rubbed a hand over his face, the lines of his brow furrowed with thought. His mind raced, trying to conjure solutions, ways to help you. He wanted to be your knight in shining armor, but he knew this wasn’t something he could fix with a few comforting words. You were trapped—your passport, your freedom, your entire future—locked away by the very people meant to love and protect you.

“[Y/N], I…” He faltered, his voice low and uncertain. “I’ll figure something out.”

You sat curled up in the armchair by the window, your gaze fixed on the city lights outside, your expression distant and unreadable. For a long time, you didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. Your silence spoke volumes—he could see the pain etched across your face, the hopelessness lingering in your eyes. It wasn’t just exhaustion; it was the crushing realization that this wasn’t merely a fight for freedom. It was a battle for your entire life.

Steve’s eyes lit with sudden resolve, and he turned to face you, an idea solidifying in his mind. “What if I could help you get out of here?” he asked, his voice urgent but careful.

Your gaze shifted to him, and though curiosity flickered across your face, the sadness in your eyes didn’t waver. “What do you mean?”

He ran a hand through his hair, searching for the words. “I can pull some strings. There are people—resources—that could help you. Maybe we can figure out a way to get your passport or get you somewhere safe. You don’t have to stay here. You don’t have to stay trapped.”

You shook your head, the weight of it all settling over you again. “They’ll come for me, Steve. My family…” You trailed off, biting your lip, your voice tinged with despair. “I don’t think I can escape them.”

Steve moved closer, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering determination. “You’re not going through this alone,” he said firmly. “You have more options than you think.”

He hesitated for a moment, glancing at the table where a stack of papers sat, before another idea struck him. “The Mustang,” he said suddenly. “I rented it for this trip, but… I can buy it outright. Sell it after. Use the money to help you get started, to give you a chance until we figure out the rest.”

Your eyes widened as you sat up straighter, shaking your head in protest. “I can’t accept that, Steve. It’s too much. It’s your car. It’s… expensive.”

“It’s just a car,” he said, cutting you off before you could finish. His voice softened as his gaze bore into yours, filled with something raw and unguarded. “You mean so much more to me than a car, sweetheart.”

The words caught in the air between you, and his chest tightened at his own vulnerability. You stared back at him, your expression wavering between gratitude and heartbreak. “I don’t think I can go back to my family,” you whispered. “I don’t think I can survive that again.”

A fierce protectiveness surged through Steve as he stepped closer to you. His hand hovered just above your shoulder before finally resting there gently. “I won’t let them take you,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I swear.”

You lowered your gaze for a moment, overwhelmed, before meeting his eyes once more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you said softly.

Without hesitation, Steve reached out, his hands cupping your face with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He tilted your head up, your eyes locking with his. And in that suspended moment, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

The kiss started soft, tentative—a quiet promise in the midst of the chaos surrounding you both. But as it deepened, it carried with it the weight of everything unsaid: the fear, the hope, the connection you had both been too scared to acknowledge until now.

When you finally pulled back, Steve reached into his pocket, his expression momentarily distant. His fingers brushed against the smooth surface of the simple ring he’d carried for years. It had once been meant for Peggy—a relic of a life that never came to be. He had held onto it as a reminder of the past, but now, as he looked at you, he realized something.

Maybe it was time to let go. To stop clinging to a ghost and make space for something new, something real.

You looked up at him, your lips trembling with the beginnings of a smile—a real one, the first he’d seen from you since the day began. “Thank you,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what’s coming next, but… I trust you.”

Steve nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips as he sat beside you on the bed. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, holding you close as the city lights shimmered in the distance. For a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. The only thing that did was the quiet understanding between you—an unspoken promise to face whatever came next together.

⠀⠀

The following morning, you awoke to the soft sound of ocean waves crashing against the shore. The room was dim, the early light creeping in through the windows. Steve lay beside you, turning his head to look at you still asleep, curled up next to him. Your breathing was steady, peaceful—a stark contrast to the chaos of the night before.

Today was his last day in Barbados.

You hadn’t solved everything, not yet, but you had taken the first step. You had found each other in a moment of vulnerability, and for once, the world outside felt a little less pressing. He smiled softly as he brushed a few strands of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your skin.

As he watched you, his thoughts turned to Peggy—her memory, her spirit—but now it felt like a distant ache, not a tether keeping him bound to the past. Peggy had been a part of his journey, but he had learned it was okay to move on, to let go. The future, whatever it held, didn’t need to be defined by what was lost. It could be shaped by what was right in front of him—you, a new beginning, a chance to build something of your own.

You stirred and slowly opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. A soft smile appeared on your lips as you stretched, still half-asleep.

“Morning,” you whispered, your voice thick with the remnants of sleep.

“Morning,” he replied, his heart light despite everything you both still had to face. “How are you feeling?”

Your eyes searched his for a moment, as if weighing the sincerity in his words. You glanced down, lost in thought, before meeting his gaze again. “I’m… okay,” you said quietly. “It’s a long road ahead, Steve. But I don’t feel so lost anymore.”

He nodded, his hand gently caressing your arm. “We’ll take it one step at a time. I’ll help you with whatever comes next. We’ll figure it out together.”

Your eyes softened, and you gave a small nod. You weren’t fully healed, and there was still a long way to go, but there was hope now. And that was enough.

The sun had fully risen by the time you and Steve were ready to face the world again. After the heartfelt conversation the night before, it felt like progress had been made, but the morning light brought a sobering clarity.

Steve stood at the window of the hotel room, staring out at the endless horizon, the weight of his duty pressing down on him. He had known this moment would come. He had always known that being with you was fleeting—a brief escape from the responsibilities he could never quite shake off. There was a sense of urgency in his chest, a reminder of the mission waiting for him, the world that still needed saving.

You had showered and dressed in silence, your face still pale from the weight of everything you’d gone through. You moved quietly around the room, packing your things as if trying to avoid the inevitable. You hadn’t said it, but Steve could feel your resistance. The distance between you had already started to stretch.

He turned away from the window as you sat on the edge of the bed, looking small in the oversized hotel robe. You weren’t meeting his gaze, and he couldn’t blame you. You had put everything on the line to be with him, only to have to face the reality that a future together wasn’t possible—not now, at least.

“I’ve been thinking,” Steve began, his voice steady but tinged with regret. “I might be able to help you get out of here, help you get your life back. Maybe through SHIELD… I’ll make sure you’re safe, that you have a way out of this. I’ll talk to the director.”

You didn’t respond immediately. You just stared at your hands in your lap, your fingers trembling ever so slightly.

“I don’t want you to do this for me, Steve,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You have a life… your duty. You don’t have to fix this for me. I’ll find a way out, one way or another. I’ve been running from this for years. I can handle it.”

Steve clenched his jaw, fighting the frustration bubbling up. “You shouldn’t have to,” he said quietly, walking over to where you sat. He crouched in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “You deserve better than this. You deserve more than a life of being pushed around by other people’s choices.”

Your eyes finally met his, and for a moment, you just looked at each other, the weight of the world between you. “I thought… I thought I could have a different life,” you said softly, your voice breaking as tears filled your eyes. “But I don’t know how to get away from this. I don’t know how to get out.”

Steve took a deep breath, his heart aching for you. The situation wasn’t fair, and he couldn’t give you the kind of life you deserved. Not right now.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wedding ring. It was strange how something so tied to the past had suddenly become a symbol of hope for the future. He had carried it for too long, unsure of whether he would ever move on, but now it felt right.

He placed the ring in your hand, his fingers lingering on yours for a moment. “I can’t stay, sweetheart. You know that,” he said softly. “But this… this is for you. It meant a lot to me for a while, and now I want you to have it so you remember that you’re not alone. You’re stronger than you know, and one day, you’ll find your way out of all this. I believe that.”

You held the ring in your hand, your fingers wrapping around it as if it were the last thing tethering you to a future you weren’t sure you could have. Your tears finally spilled over, and you let out a shaky breath.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” you asked, your voice breaking.

Steve nodded, standing up and giving you one last, lingering look. “I have to. There’s a world that still needs saving, and I can’t turn my back on it. But you’ll be okay. I know you will.”

You nodded slowly, wiping your eyes as you looked at him one last time. “I’ll find a way… to make things right. I will.”

The two of you stood there in silence for a moment, the weight of what you couldn’t have settling between you. Steve reached down and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

“I’ll never forget you,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “And maybe one day… if the world isn’t too broken, we’ll find a way back to each other.”

You nodded, your heart torn, but you knew the truth of his words. You were both tied to duty, to the things that had shaped your lives. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t remember the good, the fleeting moments of peace you had shared. You would always have those.

“I’ll keep this,” you whispered, holding up the ring. “It’s all I’ll have left of us.”

⠀⠀

You spent your final hours with Steve, the air between you thick with the bittersweetness of time slipping away. Neither of you wanted to waste a single moment.

The day was filled with small, meaningful acts that made it feel as though time had slowed. A quiet breakfast by the beach, just the two of you, the waves gently crashing against the shore. You walked along the sand, hand in hand, the sound of the ocean almost drowning out the rest of the world. Together, you shared memories, laughter, and stories, pretending, if only for a while, that the weight of the world wasn’t pressing down on you.

But no matter how much you tried to savor each second, reality couldn’t be ignored. Time continued to slip through your fingers.

In the afternoon, the two of you returned to the same spot where you had spent your first evening. The sunset painted the sky in vibrant shades of pink, orange, and gold. Steve leaned against a large rock, his arm wrapped around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. Both of you watched the fading light in silence—a silence that was comfortable but heavy with unspoken words.

“I wish we had more time,” you murmured, breaking the stillness. Turning your face toward him, your eyes met his, reflecting the same sorrow you knew he felt.

“I wish I could give it to you,” he replied, his voice low and steady. He reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin as if memorizing the sensation, knowing it might be the last time. “But you’re strong. You’ll be okay. You’ve already come so far.”

You gave him a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “What about you, Steve? Will you be okay?”

He hesitated, his answer caught somewhere between honesty and reassurance. He couldn’t promise you he’d be okay, not with everything pulling him in so many directions. But he knew one thing for certain: this day, this moment, would stay with him forever. “I think I will,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You sat together in silence again, watching the sunset, neither of you ready to let the moment go.

As the evening deepened, you returned to the hotel together. Your movements were slower now, reluctant, each step bringing you closer to the inevitable parting. Steve could feel it too, the ache of what was to come. It hurt more than either of you had expected.

Before he left the room, you handed him something—a small, folded piece of paper. He opened it, revealing a drawing of a Mustang, your version of the car he had rented. At the bottom, you had written, “For when you’re far away.”

He looked at you, his chest tightening with emotion. The words he wanted to say caught in his throat. Instead, he stepped forward and pulled you into a tight embrace. His arms wrapped around you as if he could hold on forever. He kissed the top of your head, breathing in the scent of your hair, committing it to memory.

“You’ll always have me in your heart,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. You nodded against him, your tears threatening to fall as you held onto him, unwilling to let go.

“And you’ll always have me, Steve. No matter where you are.”

⠀⠀

Steve’s boots clicked against the cold floor of the Avengers compound as he entered, the familiar hum of the place only adds to the weight in his chest. He’d just come back from his brief time away, a time he wasn’t sure how to summarize. It had been a whirlwind, a mixture of emotions he hadn’t expected to feel so deeply. But this sudden vacation had successfully changed him.

As he stepped into the common room, he saw Tony lounging on the couch, his eyes glued to a screen. The moment Steve walked in, Tony looked up with a grin, clearly expecting the usual sarcastic quip.

“So, Cap, how was your vacation?” Tony asked, casually tossing a glance at him.

Steve set down his duffel bag and leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t quite know how to explain what he’d experienced, what he’d left behind. The memories of you lingered in his mind, and they felt like a weight he wasn’t sure how to carry.

“It was… well, it really helped me, Tony,” Steve said quietly, his voice steady, though there was an undercurrent of something deeper there, something he hadn’t figured out how to unpack yet. He glanced out the window for a moment, as though the ocean and the memories of the beach could somehow soothe him. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that time until it was over.”

Tony raised an eyebrow, always quick to read between the lines. But he didn’t push; instead, he took a sip from his glass and leaned back, knowing when not to ask further questions. “Good to hear, Cap. We all need a break now and then.”

Steve nodded, though he didn’t answer immediately. His thoughts drifted back to the last day he had spent with you—how the two of you had spent hours walking along the beach, hand in hand, knowing it was the end of something beautiful but fleeting. He remembered the warmth of the sun on his face, the way your smile had both broken his heart and healed it at the same time. What hit him hardest, though, was the way you had parted. There had been no easy goodbye, no promise that somehow, someway, you would find a way to be together. Just the certainty that life, as it always did, would pull you both in different directions.

He couldn’t shake the thought of that damn Mustang. The one he had rented for you, the symbol of the escape you had needed so badly. You had drawn it for him—your version of it, something small, something tender, that he would hold onto forever. The image of your face, so full of determination and quiet sorrow, was etched in his mind, a constant reminder.

And yet, he knew he had to leave. He couldn’t stay. Duty was calling, and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t just throw everything away. You had your own future now, one you had fought so hard to build. And he had his—one that couldn’t afford distractions, no matter how deep the feelings had run.

Tony watched Steve, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” he asked casually.

Steve blinked, shaking himself from his thoughts. He hadn’t expected Tony to guess it so quickly, but then again, Tony always had a way of cutting through the bullshit. He didn’t know how to explain what had happened with you, what it had meant to each other. And he didn’t want to, not yet.

“I am,” Steve admitted softly. “But it doesn’t matter. She’s going to be okay, Tony. I made sure of it.” His voice was low, steady with conviction, but there was something else there—a tinge of regret that he couldn’t quite shake.

Tony studied him for a moment. “That’s good, Cap. But you don’t have to keep it all together all the time, you know? It’s okay to feel like you don’t have all the answers.”

Steve chuckled softly, the humor in his voice tinged with melancholy. “I’m still figuring that out.”

Steve had made sure you left before him and was taken care of before his departure. He had called in every favor, using his influence and SHIELD’s resources to ensure you could leave your old life behind and start fresh. After everything that happened, you deserved a chance at freedom. The control your parents had over your life, the arranged marriage—they had weighed so heavily on your shoulders for so long. But now, with Steve’s help, you were free.

With your new identity, a fresh passport, and a financial cushion, you had the chance to build your future on your own terms. Steve knew you had the strength to make something of yourself, but it wouldn’t be easy. He’d made sure you had the right people backing you, a network of allies who could help you navigate your new life, far from the constraints of your family’s expectations.

You were enrolling in a prestigious university overseas, something you had always dreamed of but never had the opportunity to do before. The freedom you had fought for was finally within reach. Your family would never understand, but you didn’t care anymore. You weren’t the person they had tried to mold you into. You had become your own woman.

But leaving wasn’t simple. The scars of your past, your family’s rejection, and the haunting memories of the arranged marriage still lingered. You had to rebuild yourself from the ground up, and Steve had been there for you every step of the way, even from afar, even if you didn’t directly know it. He had given up a part of himself—his heart, his peace of mind—just to make sure you were safe and had a future. He had set things in motion to ensure you had a chance to be the person you wanted to be, even if it meant not being able to stay in your life.

He had watched you go, knowing that despite everything you shared, you could never be together. You were on your own now, and Steve had to let you go. His duty, his responsibilities, and the life he led as Captain America had always come first. But that didn’t stop him from caring for you, or from wondering what might have been, if only circumstances were different.

As the plane took off, you looked out the window, leaving behind the life that had almost consumed you. Steve’s name echoed in your heart, but you knew you couldn’t look back. You had to keep moving forward. You had your own life to live now, and you would make it count. For him.

You were heading down a different path now, one of independence, of freedom. He had made sure you had the support you needed, and as much as he wished things had turned out differently, he knew he had to let you go.

⠀⠀

Later, as Steve stood in the hallway, his hand on the door to his room, he took one last deep breath. He thought of you, of the way your eyes had sparkled in the fading light of the sun, of the way your smile had broken his heart. He thought of the fading tattoo, the Mustang, and the promise of freedom you now had, and the one thing he had given you—something simple but meaningful: a wedding ring.

It wasn’t his first choice. It wasn’t even his second. It was the one he should’ve given Peggy, the one he carried with him for years as a reminder of what could have been. But now, it had found its way to you—the woman who had made him feel something more than duty, more than responsibility. He couldn’t keep carrying it, couldn’t keep living in the shadow of his past. He had to let go.

The ring was a relic. It didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that, for once, he had lived in the moment.

For Steve, it was the kind of love that burned brightly—intense, fleeting, and beautiful. Like an American wedding, it brimmed with promise, a celebration of what could have been. But some things, no matter how luminous, weren’t meant to endure. And maybe that was okay. Because even in its brevity, it left something lasting—a healing fragment of you, etched into his once broken heart, immune to the passage of time.

And like an American divorce, it became a love story confined to memories—bittersweet and unfinished. You both knew it could never be more, but the echoes of it lingered, quietly shaping the man he would become.

⠀⠀

⠀⠀

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[midnightmayhem13]

Hey bby! Can I request in general headcanons for dating the marvel girls?

You Know I Adore You

trying to get back into it but here's more general headcanons for the girls! (scroll down my profile if u haven't seen the og ones🤫)

Carol Danvers

-she loves to give you soft pecks any time you walk past or say hi or bye to her

-its smt so simple but she loves it, letting everyone know you're both taken

-she loves wrapping her hand around ur shoulder and pulling u into her as she bows her head to kiss you

-when you show her new clothes you bought (dresses, tops, skirts, lingerie) she literally kicks her feet and starts giggling like a toddler

-she puts her hands on her face and smiles so big when you look good in smt/ doing smt

-when ppl hit on you she starts laughing bc she knows ur incredibly loyal, but she does have her moments when she gets insecure

-she'll talk to you about it later if it won't leave her alone. and it usually ends in her sleeping on your tit

-she leaves a drool stain on ur boob but she won't ever admit it's drool

-when ppl hit on her and you get angry it turns her ONNN. like her super sweet and calm gf getting possessive does smt to her

-she loves to call you her sweet girl

-anytime she gets, she'll just stare into ur eyes as she caresses ur cheek, whispering stuff like 'i love you so much pretty girl'

-its mostly to herself but it slips her mind and it's audible

-she loves giving you long tight hugs out of nowhere. like nothing makes her day better then when you wrap ur arms around her so tight and all her problems dissipate

-if you like to cook, she's constantly behind you holding ur waist. she tries to help if she can but usually js ur taste tester

-when ur the one the takes her out on a date and makes her feel so pretty she's literally blushing the whole time. and she'll literally js tell random ppl 'look how beautiful she is!"

-ill say it again GOLDEN RETRIEVER LESBIAN

-she's so obsessed with you it's crazy, she follows you like a lost puppy.

-and omg when she or you propose she will NEVER skip a chance to call you her wife

-"my wife bought it for me!" "it's for my wife" no thank you, i have a wife" "i love my wife" "i miss my wife" "my wife uses that!" ANY CHANCE

- its gets to the point where nat, bc she's a tease, buys her a shirt that says i love my wife and it's her favorite shirt

-you're her favorite person ever and and if she had to spend every second of her life by your side she'd do it in a heartbeat

Darcy Lewis

-i can't fathom how much darcy loves to leave kiss marks ALL over you!!

-she'll leave them on ur neck, cheek, forehead, and on ur lip so everyone knows to stay away from what's hers

-she'll leave them and say "all mineee" as she grabs ur cheeks with her hands and squishes them together to kiss you

-you guys sleep so intertwined. it's so comfortable for both of you but you've been asked by some ppl how the hell you two get any sleep like that

-darcy likes her girl obsessed. js plain and simple. she KNOWS she had you wrapped around her fingers bc she's aware you'll literally move the moon for her

-you love to spoil her and take her everywhere she can, you want her to live her dream and explore the world

-i imagine darcy dating a big, tall, buff, hot ass avenger chick. she always flaunts how hot you are to anyone

-she gives a lot of dirty looks to girls who stare at you a little to long.

-usually she tugs ur pinky and you'll give her a kiss on the lips or pull her close

-when you two walk, it's impossibly close to eachother.

-you both need to be touching the others skin when ur together.

-she melts in ur arms when you call her pretty.

-it doesn't matter how many times you say it in a day (which is a lot) she's always gonna feel so giddy and nervous when you say it

-looking in ur eyes calms her down. when she's stressed abt work or school you give her a warm hug and tell her everything is gonna be alright and that she's got this

-when you put ur hand on her cheek she grabs it and kisses ur palm and you do the same

-you hate ian. even if he didn't do much to her ur get jelly that he got to kiss her. she finds it funny bc he was not it

-she loves when you lay on top of her and just hold her. even tho she struggles to breath sometimes, she's never felt warmer

-omg imagine darcy with an asguardian gf and she's just so obsessed with ur accent and skills. it drives her up the wall

-she always feels so safe when she's with you and you do wtv you can to make sure she's safe and happy

-darcy loves her scary gf very much and loves when you intimidate ppl bc you're actually a very soft a sweet person

María Hill

-i feel like you and maria have a soft and mature ass relationship

-when you have fights they're usually small. but you two can make up by talking it out or yk smt else

-sometimes you'll stroll into her office, sit on her lap, give her a few kisses then walk out.

-when you two walk around her arms around ur waist and when ur sitting around ur shoulder. js making sure she marks her territory

-whenever you two are js chatting she'll hold ur waist. it could be a conversation about a mission or literally her favorite burger but she's holding ur waist.

-she likes when you call her commander, not even in like a kinky way (she does like it like that too) but she feels so happy knowing ur able to keep it professional and respect her

-you both know how you like ur coffee by heart. and you memorized all her favorite foods and she's shocked

-maria is a jealous girllll. she trusts you 100% but God forbid and stranger touches you. she'll give them hell for it

-when u guys get engaged/married she loves to stare at the ring and wears it all. the. time.

-smt about it is just so you and her as if it was tied to her soul and she loves that you found the most perfect ring ever.

-you make her lunch for work. either packing it in her very cute lunch bag or stopping by her office to drop it off. you make sure she eats

-its also a secret but ur thumbprint opens her office doors. after years of dating ofc.

-i feel like you guys could have an age gap relationship but it's never been an issue

-she has a polaroid picture of you in her wallet and desk. she labeled it "forever my pretty girl" and the date.

-nat is very protective of you when maria's now around. they both know u are more than capable of protecting yourself and very loyal. but mats js making sure

-you have a necklace with her name on it and/or a locket with a picture of her

-you guys are meant to be together and everyone knows that

Sharon Carter

-sharon is so public about ur relationship but also extremely private about it

-like she flaunts her hot beautiful ass gf everywhere. but know one knows as many details about you as her or any of ur guys' anniversaries

- anytime you guys sit down sharon has her arm around ur shoulder, ur leg on her thigh, and her hand on ur thigh

-she's a big fan of whisky but makes sure she doesn't stink of it so you'll let her kiss you. she has a collection of it and you find it cute

-she also likes to tease you by putting the cold glass ur thigh when you sit

-she's actually so clingy and needy. from a distance she may seem as a badass chick who loves her gf, but she's actually like clingy lil thang.

-she always needs to have her hands in you, she's told you she'll die if she's not touching you.

-she will shamelessly stare at ur tits and touch/poke them any chance she gets.

-she also claims she can't sleep if her face isn't in between ur boobs. she swears the scent of ur skin there is better than the rest of ur body.

-she loves to nuzzle her nose into ur neck/chest

-she loves when you wrap ur arms around her neck when she's sitting at her desk

-she loves when u hug her around her neck in general

-after a long night (wink wink) she loves to see you wake up and put her button up/blazer on as you go to the bathroom

-she actually goes feral when she sees you in smt revealing or tight. like it drives her crazy nd she starts craving you so bad

-but she'll literally drool over u in ur lil mom type outfits or pajamas. you js always looks so gorgeous and splendid to her

-she'll let you do her hair sometimes, she perfers it just down and neat but she can never say no to you.

-she loves to buy you jewelry and you guys have a lot of matching pieces

-her heart aches when she sees you being you. ur just so unique and flawless in her eyes

-your her dream girl and she's yours

Nebula

-your literally her most prized possession. like ofc ofc she doesn't treat you like an object or prize to be on but you're the most important thing in her life

-she's a touch starved baby so when you two get more comfortable with eachother she loves when you affection.

-after she's had a rough day or in general she loves to js sit as you stand between her legs and hug her neck and stroke her head.

-she'll hold ur waist and put her head on ur chest to hear ur heartbeat and feel ur boobs

-don't get me wrong, she's obsessed with ur tits but feeling ur squishy and warm flesh helps her feel less dehumanized, it's not always sexual

-literally no one can disrespect you bc nebula is gonna appear out of the shadows to murder them

-nebula would totally have a soft girlfriend. you're so sweet and kind, the opposite of nebula. but you see and bring out the best in her. nebula and her soft girl<3

-THE black cat and golden retriever gf duo. moon and her star.

-nebula has no shame at all, anytime you guys sit she's gonna pull you on her lap. it doesn't matter if there's plenty of room she wants to be near you at all times

-she loves to give you soft pecks on ur head, cheek and neck. whenever you hug her and she likes to do it when you're sitting next to her.

-idk if i should say she's big on pda bc she just does it yk? she doesn't like being in public but she's so possessive and obsessed with you that she just needs to be touching you all the time.

-her favorite position to take a nap in is hugging ur thigh as she's between them while you stroke her head.

-i've said it before but she's obsessed with how squishy and warm you are.

-when you guys sleep she holds u super close by ur waist, and u put ur hands on her chest

-she thinks you don't hear but she'll silently praise you and tell you how much she loves you when you sleep

-you love ur blue girlfriend and she's so happy you chose her

kate bishop

-PUPPY GF KATEEEE

-she's so obsessed with you it's actually so cute

-she has the biggest pout when she comes home from difficult missions or days

-all she wants to do is lay between her gfs legs and breath in ur scent

-you have an arrow necklace, like nat, but it's for kate

-yelena always makes fun of you bc she says kate is cupid and shot her love bow at you

-she also bugs kate bc of how flustered she gets around , even after you guys start dating. and she'll ALWAYS remind kate of how embarrassing her confession to you was

-you guys go on picnics a lot. you like to braid kate's hair as she's throwing lucky his favorite tennis ball around

-you get so overheated when you sleep bc kate usually sleeps with all her lumps around you and lucky on top of you

-she SNORESS. you think it's adorable but she's gonna refuse it when you tell her about it. she's also drooled on you plenty of times but when u love someone sm it rlly doesn't matter

-if ur an avengers, she falls in love you when ur first introduced to her. clint and nat noticed immediately, and nats like ur instructor. (BC NAT NEVER DIES) and they both just watch as this love story is written in front of them

-if you meet her mom she likes you but doesn't respect you very much. she's very invasive with her questions and makes crude jokes that only she finds funny.

-kate loves to go on cute scenic dates with you. one of the most memorable as when she asked you to be her gf. it one on a hill overlooking the sea with lucky by her side

- she twirls her hair and stubbles over her words a lot when she's with you. she just gets so nervous around you it's crazy

-nat was ur hypewomen and clint was her hypeman. they both love you sm and they want you to be happy. so when you tell nat about ur first date she gets so happy and helps you get ready

-they're both rooting for you. nat also helps kate by telling you ur favorite flowers, snacks, places, movies. and clint helps you by her archery related gifts and stuff for lucky

-you're so obsessed with her as well. you draw K's with a heart anytime you have paper, take pictures of her all the time and so much more. she's so lucky to have you

-you guys are always the best looking at a gala. she'll wear her favorite suit and you wear a long dress with a slit in the color of her tie. she cannot take her hands off of you and she's pure eye candy to you

-she wouldn't rather spend her life with anyone else, she loves you with her whole heart and will do anything to prove it to you

a/n this was SO FUNNN🤍 please send more requests guys bc im lowk running out of ideas!! ty for reading stay safe hoes

[cece693]

No (Steve Rogers x GN! Reader)

I haven't been focusing on my asks (and I know I should) but this was just something I had to write about. Most Steve fics have a romantic plot, but what if I want to change that? No, I'm not killing anybody but saying no to marriage might be in Steve's book.

Summary: You loved Steve, but you weren't ready to make the big step in marrying him. Others don't understand or merely refuse to accept your reasoning.

tags: marriage proposal gone wrong, reader has their reasons, hurt Steve, Avengers meddling in things

The cozy glow of the living room bathed everything in warm hues, as if the universe itself cradled this moment. Steve Rogers stood before me, larger than life yet heartbreakingly human in the way he looked at me—with unyielding love that made my chest tighten. My heart thundered as he sank to one knee, his golden hair catching the light like a halo. His hand trembled slightly as he produced a small black box.

His smile was tender, adoring—the kind of smile you’d only see in fairy tales and classic romances.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he began, his voice steady but soft. “These past three years have been the best of my life, and that’s saying something for someone who’s lived as long as I have. You’ve given me a reason to keep going when everything else had faded. I love you. Will you do me the honor of becoming mine?”

The room fell silent. Too silent.

I didn’t need to turn around to know the Avengers were crowded against the door, holding their breath. My eyes dropped to the ring—a delicate, beautiful thing. So perfectly Steve. I could imagine him painstakingly choosing it, probably consulting Nat or Sam for advice. It was perfect. He was perfect.

And yet…

“Steve,” I whispered, my voice trembling as I struggled to form words. “I…I can’t.”

The silence turned suffocating. His smile faltered, and his bright blue eyes searched mine as though I’d just spoken a foreign language. “What?”

“I can’t say yes,” I said softly, my throat tightening around the words.

Before I could even attempt to explain, the door burst open, and the Avengers stormed in like a tidal wave of disbelief and judgment.

“Are you kidding me?” Tony’s voice was sharp, incredulous. “You rejected Steve Rogers? Captain America? What is wrong with you?”

“It’s not—” I tried, but Natasha’s icy glare stopped me in my tracks. Her expression was devoid of emotion, but the disappointment in her eyes cut deeper than words ever could. Even Thor, lovable Thor stood with his arms crossed, his brows furrowed, as though I’d committed some unspeakable crime.

“How could you?” Clint’s voice rang out next, loud and accusatory. “Do you even realize what it took for him to plan this? The time, the effort, the heart—and you just said no?”

“I didn’t mean to—” My voice broke, but they weren’t listening. Even Sam shook his head, muttering something about how I didn’t deserve Steve. I turned to him, desperate for support, for something. But Steve stayed silent. His shoulders slumped, his head bowed, his expression unreadable. He didn’t stop them. He didn’t defend me.

The weight of it all became too much.

“Enough!” I shouted, my voice cracking as I stood. The room fell silent, all eyes on me, but I didn’t care. Tears burned in my eyes as I glared at them. “You didn’t even let me explain! You’re all so quick to judge, to attack me, without even asking why I said no. Do you think I don’t love him? That I don’t care about him? You’re wrong.”

I turned on my heel, my voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “I said no because I’m not ready—not because I don’t love him, but because I do. But clearly, none of you care to understand that.”

Without another word, I stormed out of the room, ignoring their calls after me. My chest felt like it was caving in, the weight of their disappointment and Steve’s silence pressing down on me until I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know where I was going, but I needed to get away.

Hours later, I sat on a bench at the edge of a quiet park, the cold night air biting at my skin. My hands were trembling, and I didn’t know if it was from the chill or the lingering hurt.

“Mind if I sit?”

I looked up to see Steve standing there, his expression soft but cautious. His voice was gentle, careful, as if he were afraid of saying the wrong thing. I nodded wordlessly, and he took a seat beside me. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence stretching between us. The stillness gnawed at me until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why are you here, Steve?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“To listen,” he said simply. His blue eyes, tired but sincere, locked onto mine. “I should’ve done that earlier.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening again. “You didn’t stop them,” I said, my voice breaking slightly. “You let them say all those horrible things about me, and you didn’t stop them.”

His face fell, and he reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing his hand over mine. “I know,” he said softly. “And I'm sorry. I froze. I didn’t know how to handle it. But I don’t blame you for saying no. I could never blame you for that. I just…I was surprised.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I shook my head. “I didn’t say no because I don’t love you, Steve. I love you so much that it hurts. You’re everything, Steve. You’re kind and patient and wonderful. But this…this is forever. And I need to know I’m the best version of myself before I make that promise to you.”

His eyes softened, though the pain lingered in the corners. “I thought…after everything we’ve been through—”

“Exactly,” I cut him off gently, my voice breaking. “After everything we’ve been through, I don’t want to rush into this and risk us falling apart. I want us to last, Steve. And I need to work through my own fears and doubts to make sure I’m ready for that kind of commitment.”

His hand tightened around mine, grounding me. “Thank you for explaining things. And I respect your decision; I'll wait, as long as it takes, until you're ready to say yes."

I looked up at him, the sincerity in his eyes breaking through the wall of guilt and fear I’d built around myself. “You’re not mad?”

Steve shook his head, offering me a small, tender smile. “No. I love you too much to be mad. I just…I needed to understand. And now I do.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I leaned into him, letting him wrap his arms around me. For the first time that night, I felt like I could breathe again.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “For listening. For understanding.”

“Always.”

[moonlit-imagines]

warnings:

a/n: i wrote this on a plane from memory bc i didn’t have wifi to fact check on fandom wiki LMAO

not requested

Sharon’s conversion with Steve was cut short by a radio to her headset. “Agent Carter, we have a…young person claiming to have information on the whereabouts of the terrorist that bombed the UN building.”

“Well then, send them up. What are you waiting for?” Sharon insisted and waited at the elevator for your arrival. The Avengers privvy to this information all patiently waited in the office, and were surprised to be greeted by a teenager. “This is Y/N Zemo.”

“My father is the bomber—” You blurted and were quickly cut off by Tony Stark.

“Like we know who your father is.” He retorted.

“Yeah. I was getting there.” Your quick backtalk silenced the room. “His name is Helmut Zemo, my family was killed in Sokovia and ever since…he’s been on this mission to destroy you all.”

“You said you knew his whereabouts?” Steve asked politely, not wanting to be snapped at like Tony was.

“He’s here. With Bucky Barnes.” You revealed.

“You should have started with that!” Sharon yelled just as the power went out and the Winter Soldier was activated. “Shit. Stay here!”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @prettysbliss // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @beth-gallagher22 // @sk1bidi-n1k0-e4ts-people // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

I try to keep my Reader description vague but she's a she and above average height

Here goes nothing

Chapter 1

Warnings: Swearing, mostly angst, eventual happy ending.

Y/N, or Cookie to her friends, was at her desk, trying to finish her report so she could leave work early for one of Tony Stark's parties. This wasn't her first time but tonight her bff and mostly secret crush, Bucky Barnes, was escorting her. It wasn't the first time for that either but tonight felt different. Usually they met at the elevator but when they spoke earlier he said he would pick her up at her room. They had been getting closer in the last few months and even Steve and Sam had commented about Bucky's behavior towards her.

The night was everything she had dreamed, Bucky was attentive and always had his hands on her, respectfully of course but more intimate than he usually was. They danced much of the night and when slow songs came on he pulled her close and she could feel his breath on her neck, causing chills.

Towards the end of the night, Bucky pulled her to the elevator and kissed her until they reached his floor. They were in his room, her dress gone before she could think twice, not that she would have.

She could taste the Asgardian ale on his breath, blending with the tequila on hers. Everything was a blur of flesh and feelings she had never experienced before. She couldn't get enough, neither could he.

Y/N opened her eyes to bright light and a bedroom that wasn't hers. The pounding in her head a reminder of how much she drank last night. She looked around and realized it was Bucky's room, where she spent so much of her time. Suddenly, she realized that she was naked and her stomach dropped. She had hazy memories of shots and kisses that turned into more. The kiss in the elevator. She smiled even though her head hurt, she had been crushing on Bucky since the day they met and was amazed that he actually wanted her too.

Cookie wasn't your typical beauty, taller than most girls and with more curves than your typical agent. Of course, she wasn't a field agent but was the lead intelligence analyst on the east coast reporting directly to Maria Hill.

She reached over to find his side of the bed was cool but figured he must have gone on his morning run with Steve and Sam. She sat up and saw a bottle of water next to some pain killers, which she downed, grateful that Bucky was so thoughtful. Drinking the entire bottle of water she realized she really needed to pee. Standing slowly so as not to irritate her headache she grabbed one of Bucky's t-shirts to cover herself and went to relieve herself. When she was done she went back to sit up in bed and check her emails for today's agenda.

When she was responding to a message from Maria Hill the suite door opened and Bucky came in, sweaty and gorgeous. He saw her curled up on his bed and smiling up at him.

"Morning Buck. Good run?"

He nodded and smirked "Yeah, Sam whined at us to wait up but we just lapped him until he shut up"

"Sounds fun. Since it's Sunday and nothing is scheduled, why don't you take a shower and come back to bed?"

Bucky felt his heart stop "Look doll about last night. You know you're one of my best friends and I love you but I don't feel comfortable getting into a real relationship right now. I still have so much work to do on myself. Last night was great and I was thinking we could have one of those friends with extras, or whatever it's called. You know, to blow off steam."

Her stomach dropped and she felt her eyes filling up "You mean friends with benefits?"

He nodded enthusiastically "Yeah, that's it." he smiled hopefully.

Y/N was quiet for a minute before responding, was it worth the almost guaranteed heartbreak to have more nights like last night? She shook her head, unwilling to take that risk again.

"I'm sorry Buck but I can't do that. I get attached and end up heartbroken. I can't sleep with people that I don't have romantic feelings for."

His eyes grew wide "Wait, that means you have feelings...." He trailed off.

She nodded whispering "Yeah, I do."

Bucky's face dropped "Shit, Cookie, I'm sorry. I thought we were on the same page last night. I don't know what to say. I mean, I might develop feelings over time but I don't know. I don't want to make any promises, you know?"

She swallowed the sob that tried to escape "You don't have to say anything, we can just pretend this never happened. Ok?"

She got up from the bed, clutching the sheet to her and desperately searching for her dress from last night. When she found it she quickly put it on not realizing it was inside out.

He nodded but wasn't feeling too sure of that, he could hear her heart speed up and see her hands shaking "Yeah, sure, nothing has to change."

She smiled at him sadly, tears escaping "I uh I just remembered some paperwork I needed to finish up. I'll catch you later."

"Wait doll. I-"

"Don't worry it's fine." She cleared her throat "I could use a little space and just have work to do." She kissed him on the cheek before rushing out.

Bucky stood there, not sure how to proceed. He didn't want to lose his friend but really didn't feel like he could handle a relationship now. The stress relief from the great sex they had was something he could handle and he did have feelings for her, since the day he arrived at the compound but he knew she deserved a better man than him.

**Flashback**

Y/N was in her office reviewing some reports to glean even the smallest details before they went to the appropriate briefing packets that the field agents would use to form their strategy, when she received a text from Captain America himself, requesting her presence in the common area.

She put away all of the classified info on her desk, locked it and locked the door on her way out. She took the elevator which opened into the common area and was surprised to see a large group of agents already there.

She heard Steve shout her name "Cookie! Over here." and saw his hand waving so headed in his direction.

Steve gave her a hug and pulled away excitedly "Look Cookie, it's my friend, Bucky."

Cookie smiled and offered her hand. When Bucky looked at her she felt her breath catch, holy shit was he gorgeous, way hotter than the pictures in his file "Pleased to meetcha Sargent Barnes"

Both of them felt sparks when they touched but Bucky responded like she had burned him pulling away quickly. Cookie's smile dropped for a second before she forced it back.

Bucky looked at her through his long hair "You too, ma'am."

She could see how he was shrinking into himself, trying to look smaller so she stepped back to give him space.

Steve looked at them both oddly but smiled softly when he heard how fast her heart was beating and the slight blush on Bucky's face. That was a look he remembered from so many years ago, when Bucky met Dot.

**end flashback**

The next few weeks were tense, Y/N and Bucky barely spoke outside of Avengers business. He was always busy, rushing to train or something every time she tried to talk to him. The guilt on his face showed everything, he hated that he hurt her but missed their time together. As soon as he saw her look at him longingly, before she realized he was looking and wiped that look from her face, he had to leave. He hated himself because he knew it hurt her more every time he avoided her but he just couldn't handle seeing her and being reminded of the pain he caused.

There were other, senior agents being trained by Steve, with Bucky and Sam, to prepare for an upcoming mission. Sifting through all the related Intel was keeping Y/N up at night and her haggard appearance had been noticed by most of the team.

They had a meeting to start going over the Intel to plan their strategy. On her way in, Y/N ran into Sharon Carter who she had worked with previously.

"Hey Agent Carter, good to see you."

Sharon laughed softly "Please, Y/N, we've worked together enough for you to call me Sharon."

Y/N laughed awkwardly "Um yeah, Sharon. So how have you been? Any luck finding the power broker?"

Sharon shook her head obviously frustrated "No, he's crafty for sure but we'll get him. Rumor is this mission relates to him."

Y/N nodded, "yeah, all of the serious crime in eastern Europe seem to lead back to him." She looked up and saw Nick Fury striding towards them and straightened her shoulders "Director Fury."

He nodded at her "Agent Y/L/N. Carter. Why don't we get this started, Cookie." He looked down at the container on top of her papers.

Y/N went to the front of the room to sit next to Fury's spot at the head of the table, setting the container in his place. She saw that Sharon sat next to Bucky and started talking to him, touching his right arm and laughing softly. Y/N saw Bucky smiling and felt her chest ache, her stomach cramp up and her throat dried since apparently all the water went to her eyes. She sat down and Sam, the only one who knew what happened with her and Bucky, gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand.

They held hands through the entire meeting, Bucky and Sharon touching hands under the table. He never liked people touching him except for Y/N but apparently he made an exception for Sharon because he just sat smiling. He never even looked towards Y/N.

When the meeting ended, Bucky and Sharon were the first ones out the door as he quickly led her to his room.

Y/N could barely breathe and rushed to her own room, glad it was on a different floor from Bucky's because she didn't think she could handle hearing him and Sharon go at it.

For the next couple of months it went like that. Bucky and Sharon spending most of their time in his room and Y/N trying to stay busy so she didn't think about it. They were hands off outside of his room and insisted they were just friends when Sam mentioned they were always together. Bucky heard Sam grumble about how Y/N used to be the one he wanted to hang out with, but blew it off. Nothing wrong with having a couple of friends. And Y/N didn't want a casual relationship while Sharon was down for everything and was teaching Bucky a lot.

Sharon was friendly with Cookie in the beginning but started being nasty to Y/N, calling her names and throwing out barely veiled insults when Bucky wasn't around, and did everything she could to keep them apart. Not that Bucky ever seemed to notice, too wrapped up in the constant sex to see much else. Even at team functions Sharon worked to keep her away from Bucky, so much that Y/N just avoided the both of them when at all possible.

Y/N was depressed and missing her friend. She had lost weight and had dark circles under her eyes which she claimed were from working all hours. Time wasn't helping at all, she still had dreams about that night and felt an ache in her chest every time she saw Bucky. A couple of times he tried to talk to her, invite her for the movies nites that she never attended anymore but Sharon always started whining for him and Y/N took the hint and made excuses that she had paperwork or needed sleep, anything to avoid them.

Bucky, Sam and Sharon were offsite for a few days so Y/N could pour herself into work and not worry about running into them.

Late one night she was talking to one of her informants in Latvia and the connection was weak. She claimed to have the details on the Power Broker but static kept interfering with the connection.

Y/N heard banging

"Marta?! Marta are you ok? What's going on?"

There was more banging and a clicking noise then she heard Marta crying and begging.

A muffled womans voice came on the line "You better back off of the Power Broker or you will regret it"

Y/N was pissed "Who the Hell is this? Where's Marta? What did-" she heard a gunshot and the crying stopped.

The voice chuckled "She's unavailable and if you don't wise up, you will be too."

The call disconnected.

Y/N had tears in her eyes. She had met Marta a few years back, she had kids, a family. Now Y/N took that weight and swore to whoever was listening that she would make sure the Power Broker paid for this on top of all the other death and destruction.

Y/N refused to stop and eventually passed out on her laptop. She woke to a loud knocking "Y/N you in there? Fury got a package and wants you in his office 20 minutes ago."

Y/N sighed, Maria Hill. "I'll be down asap."

15 minutes later she was out of breath on her way into his office. "Cookie, there you are. I don't know who sent this but both of our names were on it so I'm hoping you know what's up."

Y/N looked over the package, Latvian stamp no return address. She sighed "Looks like it's from one of my informants in Latvia. I was on the phone with her last nite when she was shot. And a distorted womans voice told me to back off of the Power Broker or I'd be next."

Fury nodded "Alright well let's see what she had."

Y/N carefully opened the package which included a large white envelope that felt like it was full of pictures and a zip lock with a post-it that said 'fingerprints'.

Fury called an intern in to take the prints for processing as Y/N pulled out a stack of pictures. Her jaw dropped as her heart sped up and she began to shake. There was one thing the pictures all had in common......

Sharon fucking Carter.

Chapter 2

[milkbean69]

Love Triangle Concept: Double Trouble

You and Steve have this complicated relationship. The distance you two have is loud, yet somehow when your in close proximity between each other, its never been more silent. Trying so hard to keep your cool and him trying to stay in control. The ligering gazes, the your breath goes still, constantly trying to convince yourselves you don't have these feeling for each other, because if you did that would be wrong.

Well, why is it so wrong you may ask, i'll tell you why. The only obstacle in the way of a burning complicated mess you two call romance is the one and only Sharon Carter, his girlfriend. Oh Sharon, poor poor Sharon, I honestly doubt that woman would have even a clue what really going on between you two. I mean its not like Steve ever talks about you, he can't he feels to guilty to talk about you in her presence, let alone with anyone else.

All anyone knows is that you two aren't close, and I mean they are kind of right. Ever since coming to work with the avengers, you two have had an instant attraction that neither of you can really explain. Despite forcing yourselves to avoid each other as much as possible, there is this feeling of equalibrium invading the constant chaos of your lives. When you do interact, its so soft quiet. It feels like when the sun comes after the rain, the only thing illuminating is the light you two share.

But that's the thing, your light doesn't exist, it never got the chance to form, you two aren't together. He's happy with someone else, I mean if he wanted you, he would have broke up with her, and came to you, right? I mean you two getting to get her would be so messy, he's technically you superior, and your coworkers, plus he has a girlfriend who they all have known longer than you. Maybe you two no being together is for the best, right?

So you decide to move on, the best you can at least. You try to date, really you do, trying to be so invested in someone else while there is this remnance of someone else's blinding light in your heart. Their all just so bland, to arrogant, to tasteless, sloppy, lazy, so not right, anything and everything you can think of that comes to mind as to why you won't go on a second date with these poor souls. It's just that there so, so not.... you don't want to say it, think it, to even feel why you don't want to be with them, their just..... so not Steve.

But maybe, yes maybe not all hope is lost for your poor blinded heart. Tony Stark, genius, billionare, philantropist. This wickedly handsome bastard just might be able to engineer something for you to get you out of your sorrows. I mean who else do you go to when you when you need some thing fixed. Luckily for you, or unluckily for him, he just so happens to be on the market. When Pepper Potts left him he was heart broken, even months later he is still picking up the pieces of his shattered heart.

You and Tony are actually pretty close, or more so neutral if that's what you can consider close. You approach him gently one night, bringing aids of wine and bourbon. You both practically vomit your feelings of pain and heartbreak in your drunken state. Honestly, bringing the alcohol probably want the best option. Nearly a hour and a half, and two bottles of wine later, your sluring propostions of a distraction to ease the bruise's your broken hearts. And the only witness to such debauchery that you two concocted in that room is poor Friday.

It's decide that what you two have should be kept secret, to at least try to be as inconspicuous as possible. Between your professional and personal relationships with the team, you don't really want to start anything. Not all talk is good talk, you never know what consequences that might attract, what jealousy might brew. But if we're being completly honest with our selves, the ideals of secrecy are pretty hot.

Dare I say the arrangement with you two works, but when you live assassin's and goverment agents who job it has been to figure out things/ being the hyper observant bastards that they are, finding the time to shack up can be difficult. But do trust that it works, finding the most random places for Tony to fuck your brains out isn't really a problem, this man has done it all. You can't say you aren't satisfied with what he is bringing to the table.

Pasion is one hell of a thing, there was never really akwardness, or dout that what you two were doing was wrong, especially when Tony was for sure Pepper was definitely not coming back to him. The once "just hookups" turn into more than that, to equate for the newly blossoming sexual tension, you actually start trying to bond, you know, just to throw the team off the game a bit. You both mesh well together, and the so called "relationship" that is perceived by the team is merely nothing more than a newly growing friendship.

But with most things sexual and passionate, the brewing storm that is love just has a way of just sneaking up on you. This is a he fell first you fell harder situation you have found yourself tied up in. After months and months of the sex, sleeping in each others arms, secret sneek outs to your spots to decompress, and just the little things to take care of each other during these trying times, a love is forged from the fires of the broken peices of each others bleeding hearts.

Its chaotic and unpredictable, its like the rain that comes when the storm hits, never knowing when it will end. Sometimes its thunderous and loud shaking you to your core. The rain is good it brings you the things you need when your in your drought, flooding every being of your body to replenish what you thought you had lost in your being. Tony is the only person you can feel in your darkness. A kind of darkness that is unrelenting to who gets caught in its never ending storm.

Steve is your sun, and Tony is your rain.

But sometimes the rain in not always good, I mean it is a storm after all. The storm is always unpredictable, never knowing if it will get better or worse, and for you and Tony it got a whole hell of a lot more complicated. Even preparing for everykind of obstical one may face challenging the storm accidents still happen. And that accident, came in the form of a baby. You two were being so carefull, neither of you knows how it happend, it just snuck up on you one day.

A missed period and some Sheild Lab results later confirmed, that you were most certainly pregnant. After some talk, you decide you both wanted to keep it, but there was only one problem. What where you going to tell the team? Everyone, or we assume everyone, has no idea that you are dating. This has now gone too far, the fear of not wanting to face your feeling even now as you date Tony has put a road block in you path.

It's not like you can just tell people "hey we have most certianly been hooking up/dating for months, and we got a kid on the way". Their going to have questions, the interigation side will jump out of them. You certainly can tell them why you started hooking up. Oh yeah we definitely weren't using each other as rebound to escape the void of loneliness and heartbreak. Because that's exactly what happened, now the lies and secrets have piled up and have no where to run and you are forced to deal with them.

You better prepare for the storm, because baby you got double the trouble coming your way!!!!

[wandascrush]

The Aftermath

Part 12 of the DIWK series

Pairings: Sharon Carter x f!reader, Phil Coulson x f!reader, Avenegrs x f!reader, Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

tag list: @ayrtonwilbury @esposadejoyhuerta @kissesfornat @caffeine-pup @seventeen-x @heliotropeheart @so-to-aqui-pelas-fic @womenarehotsstuff @nuianced-tck-enby

A/N: thank you for the continuous support <3 Summary: Sharon finally brings you some place safe- some place… familiar. The Avengers get the shock of their life.

You didn’t trust her at first. Even after the escape. Even after she dragged you through the forests of Eastern Europe, evading HYDRA pursuit for four days straight. Even after she stitched up the wound on your shoulder and fed you with her own goddamn hands because your body still wasn’t yours yet.

You didn’t trust anyone.

But Sharon didn’t flinch.

She took your coldness, your silence, your empty stares, and never once hesitated. She talked to you like you were still you. Like you weren’t just some broken piece of a past life.

Because she remembered—even when you didn’t.

And for the first time since HYDRA carved you open and filled your veins with their poison—

You wanted to remember who you were. Desperately.

You sat in the backseat of a SHIELD suv, arms crossed tightly over your chest, Sharon’s jacket draped around you. Silent. Unreadable. Your friend drives without pushing. Not one question. Not one word out of place.

Something funny happens as soon as you cross the Brooklyn bridge. The city goes dark- the car radio turns off and lights vanish all across the city. They come back a moment later.

Only Sharon notices.

Your tired eyes meet her blue ones in the rearview mirror.

“Do you remember anything?” she asks quietly.

You shake your head.

A long pause.

Then: “Do you trust me?”

A beat.

“With my life,” she replies.

Silence again.

But something softens in your face.

———————-

Sharon Carters Apt. - Bronxville, NY

The door creaks open. Sharon supports you gently, her arm a steady presence as you limp inside. You’re walking now, barely—but it’s enough.

The apartment smells like cedar and lemon. Lived in. Safe. Something tugs at your chest.

Your gaze sweeps across the space.

Bookshelves. A worn couch. A coffee mug left by the sink. Papers scattered on the floor.

“Is this…your place?” you ask quietly.

Sharon hesitates.

“It’s ours,” she almost says. She wants to remind you that your bedroom is just down the hall from hers.

Instead, softly, “Yeah. It’s mine.”

You touch the edge of a photo frame. You don’t see what it holds—two girls, 16, arms slung around each other, laughing against a skyline. You and Sharon. You- your memories.

You remember your childhood. SHIELD. The training. The cold discipline of survival. You remember your trauma.

But love? Connection? The happy memories?

Those were so hard to remember. So…fuzzy?

And everything with the Avengers, Natasha, Wanda- that’s what HYDRA rewired. Dipped in poison. Corrupted to its core.

——————————

Avengers Tower - NY, NY

The tower feels cavernous now. Hollow. A ghost of what it used to be.

Natasha sits in a corner chair by the window, nursing a half-empty glass of whiskey, her gaze distant. Wanda curls into the opposite side of the room, hugging her knees, staring at the muted flicker of the television like it might tell her something she doesn’t already know.

The TV hums low, late-night news providing static comfort. Nobody listens—until a headline cuts through the white noise:

“BLACKOUT INCIDENT ON BROOKLYN BRIDGE”

Wanda glances up, blinking slowly. The footage begins to roll—grainy, jerky. A black SUV merges onto the bridge. Nondescript. Harmless.

Until it isn’t.

A flicker through the tinted glass. A profile. A shape. A face. The camera zooms in clumsily, but it’s enough.

That shape.

That familiar tilt of a head.

The sharp jawline.

The haunted eyes, staring out at a world that had long since forgotten her.

“It can’t be,” Steve says from behind them, stepping into the room, drawn by the sudden energy. “She’s…we looked for months. She’s dead.”

But he doesn’t sound convinced. Not a fucking bit.

Wanda feels bile pool into her mouth and she knows she’s going to be sick all night.

Tony appears a second later, phone in hand, already trying to track traffic footage. “Cross-check every camera in a fifteen-mile radius,” he mutters. “If that’s her—”

“If?” Natasha snaps, spinning on him. Her voice is razor sharp. “That was her.”

———————-

A dim glow spills from her desk lamp. Papers scatter across the table—HYDRA files, maps, decrypted intel. A mission board, red string crisscrossing in patterns only Sharon understands.

She’s hunched over her laptop, eyes burning, hands trembling. Exhaustion clings to her skin like a second layer. The adrenaline of what she’s done has finally hit her like a punch to the stomach.

Across the room, you toss fitfully on the couch, a blanket half-slid to the floor, breath shallow. Your sleep is never peaceful.

The news murmurs in the background.

Another headline.

“UNMARKED VEHICLE LINKED TO BRIDGE BLACKOUT”

Sharon’s eyes snap to the screen.

She sees it before they say it.

That SUV. A discontinued model famously assigned to Agent Coulson. The shimmer of light on tinted glass. The faint silhouette of a familiar jawline. Her stomach lurches.

It’s you.

She doesn’t move at first. Just watches.

Still breathing. Still alive. Clearly.

But the rest of the world would see this too.

The Avengers.

SHIELD.

Ross.

They’d be coming. But they can’t come yet- not before you’re well enough to decide what happens next on your own.

Her hand fumbles for the burner phone.

You shift on the couch but don’t wake. She dials fast.

“They’re coming,” she whispers, almost to herself.

A voice answers immediately: “I’m already on my way, kid.”

[buckysmischief]

this must be fake - 12

Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Warning(s): talks of adult situations

masterlist | series masterlist

[purrtylilith]

How they would act if they have feelings for you

**Natasha Romanoff**: Becomes more attentive, protective, and occasionally lets her guard down, showing a softer side.

**Maria Hill**: Tries to maintain professionalism but occasionally slips in small gestures of affection or extra support.

**Yelena Belova**: Demonstrates a mix of teasing and genuine concern, making an effort to spend more time together

**Kate Bishop**: Acts subtly flustered, blushes, and tries to impress you with her skills and knowledge.

**Carol Danvers**: Shows a strong and steady presence, always there to support and uplift you when needed.

**Pepper Potts**: Becomes more involved, offering guidance and showing interest in your endeavors.

**Wanda Maximoff**: Becomes more vulnerable and opens up about personal struggles, seeking comfort and support from you.

**Sharon Carter**: Becomes more attentive, making an effort to spend quality time together and showing genuine care and concern.