#I FEAR STEVE DID AIM FOR HIS HEART AND WENT FOR BLOOD AND MISSED HIM IS HIS BONES

[eddiecoweyesdiass]

tony "and you can aim for my heart, go for blood" stark and steve "but you would still miss me in your bones" rogers

[soundtrack-scribe]

The Falcon and the Newlyweds

Summary: After Steve travels back in time to reunite you and Bucky, he retires as Captain America, but you’re just getting started. (aka exactly like TFATWS but better?)

A/N: All credits to original owners/writers of TFATWS series. Added details/characters and minor storyline changes are of my own imagination. 

Word Count: 6.2k

And away, and away we go!

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Episode 5

When Sam suggested the three of you go find John, you shook your head vehemently. “No. No, I don’t want to,” you whispered.

“Doll, we’re afraid we’re gonna hurt him, too,” Bucky admitted.

You still continued to shake your head. “I-I’m not worried about us… I-”

“Oh…” Bucky said in sad realization. “Oh, doll. You don’t have to be afraid of him. He lost control, and I think even he knows that. He’s still the idiot we hate. And yeah, by the looks of it he managed to snag a vial of the serum, which makes him like me now.” Bucky shuddered at the thought. “But someone needs to find him.”

“I don’t want to…”

“That’s okay. Sam and I can go. We can take you back to the apartment, and then Sam and I can go.”

“No. Bucky you can’t go.”

“I’m not letting Sam go by himself.”

You looked over at Sam, who was standing there with his hands in his pockets. “Look, Y/N. I know you saw an ugly side to John. I get that fear. Okay? I do. Buck used to scare me the way John just scared you. But Buck’s right. Someone has to find him, and it’s better if we do it. And look, throughout all of this, have Buck and I ever let you get close to getting hurt?”

“No…”

“Exactly. And if it makes you feel better, Buck and I will do the talking. Just come with us so we know you’re not alone. Please?”

“Okay,” you finally nodded. “But please don’t fight him if you don’t have to.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say that, much less agree with it,” Bucky tried to joke. “Sam, you still got Sharon tracking him?”

“Yeah, c’mon.”

~~~

Sam led the way to a building that was closed off for construction, easily locating John inside. “Walker,” Sam started.

“You guys should see a medic,” John interrupted. “You don’t look so good.” Long gone was the high and mighty tone he usually addressed you all with. His tone was also void of any attitude or malice. It was chilling to see him looking and sounding so void.

“Stop, Walker,” Sam started again, as John started to walk past you all.

“What?” he scoffed, the attitude and raised voice coming out. “You saw what happened. You know what I had to do. I killed him because I had to! He killed Lemar!”

“He didn’t kill Lemar, John,” Bucky said simply, keeping his own tone calm to not anger the other man, and cause another outburst of rage. “Don’t go down that road. Believe me, it doesn’t end well.” Sage advice from one previously unhinged super soldier to a currently unhinged one.

“I’m not like you,” John insisted.

Bucky gave a sad shake of his head, and you gripped his hand in yours reassuringly. If John didn’t want to listen to someone who’d been where’d he’d been, and under much worse conditions, that was on John, not Bucky.

“Listen,” Sam stepped in. “It was the heat of the battle, okay? If you explain what happened, they may consider your record. We don’t want anyone else to get hurt. John, you gotta give me the shield, man.”

Slow realization swept across John’s face. “Oh… so that’s what this is. You almost got me. I should’ve known when she didn’t have any smartmouthed remarks for me.” His gaze swept over you, chillingly so.

“Mistakes happen,” you said, your voice quiet. “Let them help you so this doesn’t get worse.”

“You don’t wanna do this,” John said, his attention back on Bucky and Sam.

“Yeah, we do,” Bucky responded.

There was a momentary pause as Bucky and Sam looked at each other, and nodded. In a swift movement, Bucky guided you backwards with his arm, then advanced on John with Sam.

Two against one, you watched as Bucky and Sam tried to outfight John, punches and kicks flying in every direction, vibranium fist colliding with vibranium shield. You pressed yourself against a wall, making yourself as small as possible, heart hammering in your chest as you watched the scene unfold.

Any fear you had turned to blood boiling rage when John chucked the shield, nailing Bucky in the chest as sending him crashing backwards as John advanced, Sam lying on the floor from a hit he’d taken.

“Why are you making me do this?!” you heard John scream as he pressed the shield into Bucky, pinning him between the metal and construction vehicle. He grabbed the shield that Bucky had a firm grip on, throwing Bucky sideways across the warehouse.

Seeing red, you quietly reached down to pull out a knife. Aside from the shootout in Madripoor, you never needed to use any of the weapons strategically placed throughout your suit. And despite everything, you didn’t actually want to shoot John, mostly at the risk of missing and hitting either Bucky or Sam. But while John wasn’t exactly in stabbing range, and you weren’t all that amped to get into stabbing range, you could throw it.

With a slow breath, you adjusted the sharp steel in your hand. You took aim, chucking the knife with as much accuracy and force as you could, watching as the blade hurled end over end before sinking into John’s upper thigh, at the very convenient time that Sam flew straight into him. “This isn’t you, John,” Sam breathed heavily as both men stood face to face.

“We could’ve been a team…”

Not liking the way John didn’t appear ready to give up, Sam launched a rope that locked into the shield, engaging in a weirdly combative game of tug of war.

John lost his grip, and the rope came loose, the shield clattering against the ground. If you were fast enough, you could reach out and snag it. But with Bucky still on the ground himself, Sam holding back John for you didn’t inspire much confidence. Especially when both men dove for the shield themselves. But when Sam tackled John away from grabbing it, both men rolling further away from you, and the shield, you took your chance.

“I. Am. Captain America!” John screamed as he pinned Sam down, ripping Sam’s wings off his suit.

“No, you’re not!” you said, charging into John with the shield with all your might. John’s body rolled off Sam’s, and yours rolled with the shield, clinging on to it for all you were worth as you and John both staggered to your feet. “Shit,” you breathed with a happy grin. “That was cool!” Then, your eyes went wide, before you screwed them shut, raising the shield the block John advancing on you. “SHIT!” you screamed, bracing for impact.

The impact however, never came as Bucky jumped into action at the sound of your voice, raining blows down on John. “Don’t! You! Fuckin’! Touch! Her!” Each yelled word was a new hit, as Bucky fought John away from you.

“It’s mine,” John panted like a child who was being forced to share his favorite toy against his will.

“It’s over, John,” Sam told him.

“It’s mine!” John snarled, taking a swing at Bucky.

Bucky blocked it, grabbing the back of John’s neck with his vibranium hand, and punching him in the face with his other hand. “Y/N, shield!” Sam ordered.

Not needing to be told twice, you tossed Sam the shield as Bucky picked up John, and slammed him into the shield, the force of the impact sending all three men crashing to the floor in a chorus of groaned grunts of pain, the shield lying uselessly on the ground once more.

Bucky was the first to recover, grabbing the shield, and rising to his feet. Wordlessly, he walked over to Sam, dropping it next to him. The look on Bucky’s face said more than his mouth ever could, the anger that he had helped Sam get a shield he’d given up so easily needing no reason to be physically voiced. “C’mon, doll,” he said simply, turning and walking out of the building, leaving John and Sam where they lay.

“We’re not gonna leave Sam here, are we?” you asked in a whisper, jogging to keep up with your husband.

“Right now? Yes.”

“Bucky… It’s been a long day. And I know you still have your issues about Sam and the shield, and what it all means to you. But it’s Sam. He’s our friend, and partner whether you want him to be, or not.”

“I know,” Bucky answered you through gritted teeth. “That’s why I’m only leaving him for right now. Now, let’s talk about you, and what you did.”

You sighed. “What? Are you gonna yell at me about how I should have kept my distance? How you and Sam told me not to engage with John, and how I didn’t even want to go in there in the first place, so I’m completely batshit for doing what I did? That I could have gotten hurt, or worse? I know all that, Bucky. So please, spare me the lecture.”

“That was half of it, yes…” he admitted. “But what you did was also incredibly smart, and got Sam the shield.”

You shrugged. “I just got mad, that’s all.”

“Yeah, but it got Sam the shield. And it potentially saved us too. John was… That’s not a fight I’m eager to have again, that’s for damn sure. Between that fight and the one earlier… Knowing that you’re okay, and Sam probably physically feels worse than I do right now is really the only thing helping me feel somewhat okay right now.”

“Well, let’s get back to the apartment, and I’ll patch you up like old times.”

Bucky smiled fondly at long buried memories. “Mmm. Nurse Y/N. I always liked her.”

~~~

“The GRC is conducting raids to try and find Karli,” Sam reported over breakfast the next morning. “But so far, they only found her followers. They’ve searched a camp nearby, and just like the last camp they searched, nothing. She’s gone. We’ll never find her.”

“Hey, you got your sleeve back,” Torres’ voice chirped as he walked into the living room, and you wondered briefly where he’d come from, but you figured he probably arrived when Sam did, and given him the full run down of the GRC’s movements, much like Sam was giving you and Bucky now. Torres pointed at Bucky’s left jacket sleeve, once again reattached to the jacket he was wearing. “No? Yeah… okay then…” Torres said to no one in particular as Bucky stood there in silence, with his trademark stoic stare.

Still silent, and clearly still angry with Sam, Bucky turned on his heel to exit the room. “Are you off to take care of Zemo?” Sam wondered.

“Alright, good to know you survived,” Torres chipped again in a goodbye of sorts as Bucky stalked off down the hallway.

“He’ll come around,” you said as a half-assed apology for Bucky. “He’s… ya know. So, what else do we need to know about the Karli situation? Or the John one?”

Sam shrugged, looking over at Torres. “What’s our next steps?”

“Captain America killing a foreign national in public? It’s kinda like a big deal. Like international incident big. Folks higher up on the payroll are all over it now. So, unfortunately…”

“They’re taking jurisdiction,” Sam guessed.

“Yeah,” Torres nodded, his attention falling to a duffle bag at Sam’s feet that contained the snapped wings of his suit. “What happened to these?”

“So is there anything we can do?” you asked as Torres started examining the duffle bag.

“Not really. As I was telling Sam, they’ve cordoned off the whole camp, and Karli’s a ghost. After what went down, she’s laying extra low. Like under underground.”

“That’s why it makes sense for us to get involved,” Sam said. “The longer we let her regroup, the harder it’s gonna be to find her.”

“She’s got people helping her from all over the world, on all platforms,” Torres pointed out. “She’s really, really good at this thing.” He ran his hands carefully over the splintered wings. “How’d these break?”

“John,” you answered while Sam sighed, taking in all the information Torres was providing.

“Anyways,” Torres went on, “all we can do now is sit tight, and just chill. Sometimes there’s nothing to do, until there’s something to do.”

“That’s bizarrely wise,” Sam said with a small laugh.

“It means we can train,” you interjected. “Be prepared for whatever comes next.”

“The lady has a point,” Torres agreed with you, his eyes flickering longingly to the shield that lay on the table, remnants of the blood John had splattered on his now gone.

“Yeah, alright,” Sam nodded with a smile, looking at you. “Find your husband, and let’s get to work.”

Thankfully, all you had to do was turn your head, finding Bucky stalking back down the hallway with both yours and his suitcases in hand. “B- Oh, hey. We going somewhere?”

“Home. Well. Sam is. You and I are making a pit stop first.”

“So you finally found Zemo?” was Sam’s guess.

“I have an idea of where he might be, yeah.”

“You know, sometimes you still scare me Buck. The staring. The eerily calm voice. It’s creepy, man.”

“You wanna get to work, or not, Sam?”

~~~

The pit stop ended up being Sokovia, Bucky giving you a full rundown as to why he figured Zemo would be there on the flight over. He also told you of the plan he had. And sure enough, as the two of you walked up to the memorial site, Zemo was standing in front of it, his back facing you.

“I thought you’d be here sooner,” Zemo said as you and Bucky got within earshot. “Don’t worry. I’ve decided I’m not going to kill you.”

“Imagine my relief,” Bucky deadpanned, finger clicking the safety of the gun he had ready at his side.

Zemo turned towards you both, unthreatened by Bucky’s action as his attention focused on you. “The girl has been radicalized beyond salvation. I warned you and Sam, but you wouldn’t listen. Just as stubborn as Steve was, the two of you.” His gaze shifted to Bucky. “But you. They literally programmed you to kill. James, do what needs to be done. Karli has people everywhere. And there’s only one way to make sure she cannot continue her mission.”

“I appreciate the advice,” Bucky answered, his face conveying no evidence of whether or not that statement was actually true. “But we’re gonna do it our own way.”

Zemo chuckled at what he believed to be the naivety of Bucky’s words. “Yeah. I was afraid you’d say that.”

The gun in Bucky’s hand clicked again as he loaded what you knew to be nothing, but Zemo rightfully assumed to be a bullet into the chamber, raising his hand, the barrel of the gun mere inches from Zemo’s forehead. Zemo went pale, but kept his composure calm, even nodding at Bucky like he was giving the man permission to pull the trigger.

You watched as Zemo sucked in his breath while Bucky pressed ever so lightly on the trigger. But all that came out of the gun was an empty clicking sound. Eyes still locked on Zemo, Bucky opened his other hand, the bullets clattering to the ground.

Silently, the Dora Milaje walked up, surrounding Zemo. “Ladies,” he greeted, before addressing Bucky one last time. “I took the liberty of crossing my name off in your book. I hold no grudges for what you thought you had to do. Goodbye James. It was nice getting to know you, Mrs. Barnes.”

Two of the Dora Milaje escorted Zemo away, while the third talked briefly with Bucky about their own plans for Zemo. “It would be prudent to make yourself scarce in Wakanda for the time being, White Wolf,” she added as a small warning.

“Fair enough,” he nodded. Then, “Hey. I may have another favor to ask of you.”

~~~

 After your visit with Zemo, you and Bucky headed home.

“Buck said you got a few good ones in on that new Cap guy. Good for you,” Steve smiled proudly.

“I did okay, I guess. Got out better than Bucky and Sam, that’s for sure,” you shrugged in modesty. “Have you heard from Sam?”

“Yeah, he got back a few days ago. But just as soon as he stopped by, he was gone again. Something about seeing the old man in Baltimore?”

“Bradley,” you and Bucky said in unison. “He’s uh… like you and me,” Bucky added as an extra explanation when Steve cocked his head in confusion. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, if that was a few days ago, where’s Sam now?” you asked.

Steve shrugged. “My guess? He went home to see his sister in Louisiana. You guys still not talking after what happened?”

You looked at Bucky, and shook your head. “No. Bucky won’t say it, but he’s still never forgiven Sam for giving up the shield in the first place. And now he’s even more mad he had to help Sam get it back, because-”

“None of this would have happened if he hadn’t given it up in the first place,” you and Steve gave your best Bucky impression together.

“1.) I don’t sound like that. And 2.) I’m right. None of this would have happened if Sam had kept the shield. Not the shit with Walker anyway.”

“But Sam’s still family. And we’re still Avengers. And we still have a job to finish with Karli,” you pointed out.

“What? So you want to go to Louisiana and find Sam?” Bucky asked you.

“That would be a start.”

“Doll, we just got home. Don’t you wanna be home for a bit?”

“Not when there’s still work to be done. And you and Sam gotta put this whole mess behind you once and for all, because all Riga proved was that it takes all three of us working together to take down John.”

“And that barely worked,” he reminded you.

“Which is also why we all need to train together. Not you training me here while Sam does God knows what in Louisiana. We need to be an actual team here, Bucky.”

Bucky sighed. “Alright. I’ll book us a flight first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Why not book it right now?”

Bucky looked at Steve, clearing his throat before leaning in close to your ear. “Because of reasons I can’t say in front of your brother, doll.”

Your eyes went wide and your cheeks turned bright red at Bucky’s insinuation while Steve clapped his hands loudly together. “Okay. I think we’re done here.”

~~~

You’re sure we’re in the right place?” you asked Bucky as you approached a dock crowded with people and supplies.

Bucky only nodded as he climbed in the back of a truck lifting a huge pallet with ease at the same time you heard Sam’s voice wonder “How do we get it off the truck?”

“You’re welcome,” Bucky said as he set the pallet aside, turning to see Sam’s shocked expression.

“Surprise,” you grinned, waggling your fingers in a wave at Sam.

Sam stepped around the truck to get closer to you and Bucky, the shock on his face now a questioning look.

Bucky set a suitcase down on the bed of the truck. “Just dropping this off. Sign for it, and we’ll go.”

“Bucky,” you hissed under your breath. This was not part of your plan at all.

“I called in a favor from the Wakandans,” Bucky explained to Sam.

Before Sam could say anything in response, or you could berate Bucky under your breath again, a pipe started hissing loudly, and a woman was rushing over. “Sam!”

Sam wasted no time in rushing over to assess what the damage to the pipe was and how to go about fixing it, grabbing a nearby wrench as the woman looked at you and Bucky.

“Hi,” you smiled at her.

“Hi,” she smiled back.

Bucky sighed, watching what Sam was doing before going over. “Hold on, hold on. You gotta go up.” He took the wrench from Sam, pushing him out of the way, quickly tightening to the loose bolt on the pipe until it stopped hissing.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?” Sam asked as Bucky set the wrench aside.

Bucky thought about it for a second, looking at the vibranium appendage. “Well, I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m right-handed. So, this is the boat, huh?”

“This is it,” Sam nodded.

“It’s nice,” Bucky complimented. “You want any help?”

Sam looked at Bucky, sighing deeply. “Yeah…”

You and the woman looked over at Bucky and Sam, rolling your eyes. “Men…” you muttered. Then, “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“Sarah,” she smiled back. “Friends of Sam’s, I take it?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Mmm,” she nodded, her eyes roaming over Bucky. “And who are you?”

“I’m Bucky,” he grinned charmingly at her.

Sam punched him in the right arm as hard as he could. 

“Ow! What the hell, Sam?!” Bucky growled, rubbing at his arm.

“What is it with you and people’s sisters, man? How did Steve not beat your ass?”

Sarah’s eyes went wide as she looked at you, yours and Bucky’s name clicking in familiarity. “Oh!” she said, a hand covering her mouth as she looked at you, “I’m so sorry!”

You howled with laughter as Sam hit Bucky in the arm some more. “Seriously?! How did Steve not obliterate your ass?”

“He was like a foot shorter and weighed maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet,” Bucky shrugged. “Now will you stop hitting me? Doll!” He turned to you with puppy dog eyes to help him. “Weren’t you the one saying I needed to learn to be friendlier to people?”

“Friendlier, not flirtier,” you clarified, tears rolling down your cheeks from how hard you were still laughing. “Now help Sam with the damn boat, Sergeant Charmer.”

It was an interesting morning watching Bucky and Sam work on the boat, while you helped Sarah in the house making meals. “It’s probably a good thing Bucky’s from another time,” she commented as she caught you staring dreamily out the window for the millionth time.

“How do you mean?”

“A man that looks like that, and knows it? In today’s society? Not usually a good mix.”

“Oh, those types have always existed,” you said with a small chuckle. “Bucky and Steve used to fight them quite a bit.”

“And you? Having to fight off the hoards of women that no doubt threw themselves at a man like that?”

You laughed again. “Very rare occurrences. Bucky is, uh… attentive that way, I guess.”

“Well, you’re lucky to have a husband like Bucky. Men like that are hard to come by, believe me.”

“Oh, I know. Funny thing is, if you ask Bucky, he’d say he’s the lucky one.”

“Well, lunch is about done if you wanna bring these plates out to them for me.”

You thanked her, loading the plates up in your arms before walking outside and over to where Bucky and Sam were. “Lunch time!” you called out.

Both of their heads swiveled in your direction, Bucky clutching at his heart dramatically. “Oh, a woman after my own heart.”

“Sarah made lunch, I just helped,” you told him, handing him a plate.

Sam snickered, taking his own plate from you, “Thanks for helping her,” he told you, then in a louder voice that was almost a shout, “Thank you, Sarah!”

“You think Karli’s gonna throw in the towel?” Bucky asked, as you all took a spot and dug into your lunch.

Sam shook his head as he swallowed his bite of food. “I think she’s gonna double down.”

“Any idea on how to stop her?”

“I got Torres working on something.”

“Well, Zemo says there’s only one way.”

You all said nothing for a minute, eating your lunch and thinking quietly to yourselves before Bucky broke the silence. “Well. Y/N and I gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Gonna get a hotel room for the night. Crash, ya know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

“Well, there’s two of us. We don’t wanna impose, or anything. I really just came to give you that,” Bucky nodded at the suitcase the Wakandans have given him for Sam.

Sam snorted. “Like Y/N didn’t all but march your ass on the plane to get here. So just stay here. The people in this town are the most welcoming people in the world. They don’t care if you wear small T-shirts, or if you have six toes, or if your mom’s your aunt-” Sam rambled.

“Okay,” Bucky cut him off with a chuckle. “I get it. I mean, you know, the people are nice.”

You and Sam laughed too, before Sam pointed at Bucky, “But don’t flirt with my sister.”

“Why would I do that?”

Sam looked at you, “He doesn’t get it, does he?”

You shook your head, “He never really did.”

“What don’t I get?”

“It’s how you interact with women in general, Bucky. They find you charming,” you explained. “Niceness is mistaken as interest.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous.”

“Just keep the charm around my sister in check, or I’ll help Y/N cut you up, and feed you to the fish.”

Bucky rolled his eyes.

~~~

That night, instead of a hotel, you and Bucky slept in the spare bedroom of Sarah’s house, while Sam offered to take the couch.

Both of you awoke to the sounds of Sarah’s sons making a ruckus down the hall, and Sam’s tired call out of “Hey!”

You rolled on your side, to find Bucky already looking at you with a smile on his face. “What’s got you so happy this morning?” you asked, kissing his nose.

His shoulders shrugged. “Something about this is nice. Waking up next to you in a house. Sound of kids.”

You gasped softly in a teasing manner. “James Barnes, are you saying you want a quiet domestic life?”

He chuckled, kissing your forehead. “You knew that was what I wanted. What our lives were supposed to be like when I got home. You wanted the same thing too, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did. I still do. I just didn’t know you still did, given how much everything’s changed.”

“For a while I didn’t. My focus was… elsewhere. But it’s been something that’s been on my mind again since you’ve been back. But I wanted to give us both time to adjust. Catch up for lost time, just me and you. And then… ya know. But yeah. This,” he twirled a finger about the room, and the sounds of the house coming alive, “is still something I want.”

“Well, it’s still something I want, too.”

His kiss was heavy with need as his lips crashed into yours. “God, I love you.”

~~~

The shield bit deeply into the tree Sam hurled it at. “Son of a b-” he muttered, dashing over to wedge it free.

“You need something it can bounce back off of,” Bucky told him.

“You need something it can bounce back off of,” Sam repeated in a mocking tone.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “C’mon, I got an idea.”

The idea ended up being taking rubber mats to bound around the trees, Sam giving it a test once they were done. The shield bounced off the mat, flying straight back to Sam who caught it with ease. “Yeah, alright,” he conceded. “That’s way better.”

“How’s the shield part feel?” you asked.

“That part feels weird.” He launched it again, the shield ricocheting off one mat into another before Bucky caught it. “The legacy of that shield,” Sam continued, “is complicated to say the least.”

“When Steve told us what he was planning, I don’t think any of us really understood what it felt like for a Black man to be handed the shield. How could we?” Bucky spoke up.

You and Sam shared a look, Sam jerking a thumb at you, “Well, I understood. And so did she. But glad you’re finally catching up.”

Bucky sighed, “Fine. I didn’t understand. Point is, I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.” He lifted the arm the shield was on towards Sam for Sam to take.

“Thank you,” Sam said sincerely, taking the shield.

“Whatever happened with Walker, it wasn’t your fault,” Bucky went on to say. “I get it. It’s just… that shield… For a while it was the closest thing I had to a family. Or it was a huge part in me getting my family back anyway. Because if Steve never took it up in the first place… Well, when you retired it, it felt like giving up. Made me question everything. Like first Steve retired. Then you retired the shield. Everything that saved me was done. Like I was nothing but a completed mission.”

You and Sam stayed quiet, letting Bucky spill out the confession he now found the words to express. But after a long enough pause on Bucky’s end, you reached out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “I know both Steve, and the shield mean a lot to you. But it doesn’t define you, Bucky,” you told him softly. “You are not who you are because of Steve. He might have helped, but he is not the reason. You are. You’re the one who put in the work.”

“She’s right,” Sam agreed with you. “You gotta stop looking at other people to tell you who you are. Let me ask you, you still having those nightmares?”

“All the time,” Bucky nodded. “It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier’s still in me.”

“You up for a little tough love? You wanna climb out of that hell you’re in, keep doing the work.”

“I’ve been making my amends.”

Sam scoffed. “No. You weren’t amending, you were avenging. And teaching Y/N in the process. You were stopping all the wrongdoers you enabled as the Winter Soldier because you thought it would bring you closure. But if it actually was, then your nightmares wouldn’t be happening. At least not with the frequency they still do.”

Bucky looked at you, both of you thinking about Yori back home. “You’re not allowed to talk to Sam anymore if you’re gonna blab everything I tell you to him.”

You smiled, knowing he was only teasing. “We’re a team, Bucky. Looking out for each other is what we do.”

Bucky shook his head. “Definitely not a team.”

“Nope,” Sam agreed with Bucky.

“We’re not that good,” Bucky laughed.

“Definitely not,” Sam agreed again.

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And uh… partners?”

“Coworkers.”

“But, we’re also a couple guys with a mutual friend.”

“But the friend’s now gone,” Sam pointed out.

“So we’re a couple of guys.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.”

You snorted at their boyish back and forth antics. “The word you’re looking for is ‘family’ actually,” you interjected.

“Just uh… call us when you have a lead on Karli, and we’ll be there,” Bucky told Sam.

“Yep. And uh, thanks for the help. Meant a lot.”

“Course,” Bucky clapped Sam on the shoulder, and you and Sam gave each other a quick hug. “C’mon, doll. We got a flight to catch.”

~~~

Back home with no idea for how long, you and Bucky set to work on a more rigorous training for you.

Mornings quickly became filled with drilling you in various hand-to-hand combat techniques in which Bucky barely broke a sweat, and you ended up drenched in enough of your own for the both of you.

While you relished in your morning routine with Bucky, it was the afternoons you found particularly interesting after you came out of the bedroom to find Bucky sitting in front of his laptop. “Whatcha looking at?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you peered at the house listings on the computer screen.

“Domestic dreaming,” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen as he patted the sofa cushion next to him for you to join him.

“Oh, so when you said you still wanted this, you meant you wanted it now,” you teased as you moved around him to take the offered seat.

He shrugged. “Figured it couldn’t hurt. Thanks to Stark, everyone that’s still around is pretty well off. And I forget when exactly, but at some point Steve and I were able to get our GI funds.”

“That’s nice,” you noted, now understanding why finances had never seemed to be an issue despite neither of you actually working.

“Yeah. And I figured raising a family in a shoebox apartment isn’t part of that domestic dream. So…”

“So here we are,” you supplied.

“So here we are,” he repeated with a nod. “Oh, this one looks nice,” he said, clicking on one of the options.

“It is,” you agreed, watching as Bucky clicked through the pictures of the 3 bedroom home. “Big enough to raise a family. Small enough to not be obnoxious.”

“Mhm,” Bucky murmured, the mouse hovering over the link to schedule a viewing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you grinned.

After that, it wasn’t uncommon for yours and Bucky’s afternoons to be filled with meeting with realtors and attending open houses, weighing all your options in the evenings. And with the type of dedication Bucky had towards house hunting, it wasn’t long at all until you found a place you both fell in love with.

“C’mon, doll,” he roused you one morning like he always did. “Gotta go train.”

Normally you bounded out of bed, excited for a new day of training exercises, but today you swatted a hand at him, batting him away. “No,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket up over your head, and turning away from him, the action making your stomach roll. You let out a long, low groan.

“You feeling alright?” he asked, his voice taking on a note of concern. Hands pulled the blanket from your face, before he was feeling your forehead, checking for any unusual warmth. “You don’t feel like you have a fever,” he noted with a frown.

“Gonna be sick,” you announced, springing from bed and racing for the bathroom.

Bucky followed worriedly, one hand pulling your hair out of your face, the other rubbing soothingly at your back as you dry-heaved into the toilet. “Okay, no training today. We do have the meeting with the realtor later to sign the last of the papers and get the keys. But I can ask Steve to come keep you company while I go do that if you’re not up for it.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head and rising shakily to your feet. “You don’t have to bother Steve. It’s just a stomach bug, I’ll be fine.”

“Well, let me at least help you back to bed, and make you some breakfast, okay?”

“Fine,” you conceded, letting him support your weight as he led you back to bed. “But I’m not hungry,” you told him as you pulled the blanket close around you in bed.

“Not hungry, or worried you’ll be sick if you eat?” he questioned the validity of your statement.

You stuck your tongue out at him.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “At least try to eat some toast for me? Maybe having something in your stomach will help.”

“If you get it to me before I fall back asleep, I’ll try,” was your compromise.

Quickly, Bucky raced into the kitchen, as you closed your eyes wondering why you suddenly felt so miserable. When you’d been sick in the past, there’d always been signs leading up to it. But this sickness had caught you completely off guard. 

“Gotta sit up for me, doll,” Bucky’s voice had you opening your eyes again, spotting him standing next to you with a plate in his hand.

You groaned, sitting up against the headboard and taking a begrudging bite of the toast.

He chuckled again. “I forgot how stubborn you get when you’re sick. Way more than you normally are.”

“Not sure how not wanting to vomit toast, and wanting to sleep makes me stubborn, but okay,” you said, taking another slow bite.

“Aren’t there usually signs before you get sick? I thought there used to be signs.”

“There are signs. Or there’s supposed to be. I dunno what the heck is happening.”

His brows pulled together in curious confusion. “You’re not…” his eyes shifted to look at your stomach pointedly. “Are you?”

Your eyes went wide at the suggestion, before you shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe?”

“Shit…”

“Would it be bad if I was?”

“No!” he rushed. “God no. Just…”

“We talked about all of this back in the forties, it became irrelevant for decades, and now that we started talking about the possibility of it all again, it’s all happening at once.”

“And we still have the Karli situation, yeah. But it’s fine. It’s more than fine. Do you want me to run down to the pharmacy?”

“Please?”

Ten minutes later, Bucky held you tight as you waited on the test lying on the bathroom counter with wide and tearful eyes. “Holy shit…” you both breathed in unison, as a small plus sign appeared in the result window. “Holy shit!”

__

Tag List

@cxddlyash @stanofalotofthings @philthepegacorn @youngblood199456 @binxiboo @creator-appreciator @felixtok @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @jessalyn-jpeg @lilyoflower @mychemicalimagines @rougese7en @milea @partiesandblurrypolaroids​

[amonrawya]

The Greatest Gift of All

(Inspired by^ for the people who asked :D hope it was worth the wait!)

*

Long before the war, before Captain America or the Winter Soldier, there was simply Bucky and Steve. At least, that's what history says. But they missed out one very important person, a girl called Y/N.

Women in those times often found themselves with little opportunity, and only two easily attainable pathways in life: wife and mother. But Y/N carved out a life for herself that defied all expectations, and it all started in Brooklyn.

She dived headlong into scuffles, usually next to Bucky in defence of Steve. Regardless of the opponent, Y/N stood by them both, and often held her own quite impressively.

Her dress style borrowed from more masculine cuts, and Y/N was never seen without her cap. A lot of people had a problem with this, but she shut them up fairly swiftly.

Everything about this girl drew Bucky in, a battle he fought with little effort. They reveled in each other, flaunting their love at every opportunity. More than a few were jealous that the rough and tumble girl got the best looking boy in town. 

In a way, before even coming of age, they started an adult life together. The three of them moved into a flat. Y/N and Bucky took hard labour jobs, or anything they could get. They had little room to be picky. 

Both managed to hook steady summer jobs at the local docks. They used most of their money to keep a roof over their heads, buy food, and pay for Steve's medical needs. He attended art school, and sold his work every now and then; but physically, he was in no condition to work.

The war appeared on the horizon, just as they started to pull themselves an inch above the poverty line. Y/N saw it coming, the inevitable. She treasured every second they spent together, and dreaded the day when the draft came.

A lot of the older women she worked with were disrespectful, looking down on her pre-marital relationship with Bucky. They claimed she couldn't possibly understand their grief, despite the fact Y/N had seen Bucky off at the docks that very morning. 

In truth, they already planned on being married, but at the time, they simply didn't have the funds. Bucky promised, once the war ended, that ring would be on her finger.

Except, he never came home. Not properly. The person Hydra gave back to Y/N was damaged and jaded, angry at the world, angrier than she ever saw. But still, they loved each other. Though she never forgave them for stealing away his innocence, for trying to snuff out the light in his soul. A part of him would always belong to them, and she hated it.

Refusing to stay home while they risked their lives, never knowing, Y/N trained as an army nurse, working specially with the Howling Commandos unit.

Then one day, she went out to welcome them back from a mission. Every face looked devastated, but none more so than Steve. His eyes, red-raw and streaming, seemed incapable of rising from the ground. At first, the realisation didn't process, the idea simply incomprehensible. He promised.

Dugan was the one to finally break through and catch Y/N as she fell, holding her as the tears poured. Once he shook off his daze, Steve took his place, sharing in her grief.

Her world fell apart so quickly, with no warning and no mercy. Their commanders celebrated the capture of Arnim Zola, while Y/N and Steve sat, staring at an empty place at their side.

Everyone mourned Bucky, and swiftly after, began to mourn Y/N, too. The loss took a part of her...the sparkle, the happiness, the laugh that lit up her face. It all vanished. She worked hard, looked after them all, but only Steve was able to make her smile. Even then, it looked pained.

So when Steve went down with the plane, the very last shred of Y/N died with him. No tears left her eyes, no screams ripped up her throat. A cold numbness took over, freezing the woman from the inside out. 

V-Day came and went. The Commandos stood and drank to their lost comrades, and Dugan silently drank another...for the loss of a bright, fiery girl who had virtually nothing to lose, and still lost everything.

She spent her days as a robot, doing nothing but going through the motions of badly imitating life. The flat was empty and quiet, yet somehow, bursting with the ghosts of her loved ones. Nightmares plagued her, terrible images of Bucky's body, forever trapped in a freezing hell, nothing but food for the birds. And Steve, his body...was it cast adrift in the ocean? Or destroyed, burnt to ash in the belly of a metal beast. 

They were simple folk before the war turned them into soldiers, into weapons. Before symbols and flags stole away their names, driving them to sacrifice their lives for a greater cause.

Y/N knew their fight against Hydra was important...knew the honour behind their sacrifice. But when it's you left sitting at an empty dinner table, it's much easier to be angry and bitter.

She never married, never settled, bouncing around countries working as an army nurse. The Commandos slowly died around her, each one fading to grey as the curtain drew the show to a close. Each death, each funeral ripped open her wounds, bigger and deeper each time. Until eventually, Y/N let the blood flow freely.

Or at least, that's what would have happened. But one choice, one decision, made by a boy she thought dead in the far future, changed it all.

*

Bucky Barnes struggled to find himself again. His memories were mostly all returned, if a bit hazy and fragmented. He had Steve there to right any wrong recollections, and connect with on their shared experiences. But something always seemed to be missing, a piece of the jigsaw that hadn't been found.

He remembered Y/N. He remembered her clearer than anything. She was glowing like honey in the sun when Bucky closed his eyes and brought her back to mind.

Face covered in muck, hair tousled and streaked with grease from the boats, soot on the very tip of her nose and a cap perched jauntily on her head; wearing the deepest expression of concentration as she aimed a hanful of rotten fish guts at the sleezy Connell boy from Fifth, who decided his opinion on her backside mattered. The image shone crystal clear. Her laughter, rolling out from between curved lips, beautiful and full of mischief. 

It never failed to make him smile. Or cry. Or sometimes, both. He missed Y/N than he thought possible for a human being. 

Bucky often wondered about her life, whether she went on to marry, or maybe even have children. Was she happy? Did she bury him and move on? If they met today, would Y/N even recognise the man he was now? 

More importantly, in his mind, something he both feared and longed to know: would she still love him?

Unbeknownst to Bucky, Steve saw all this. Understood, to a degree, his pain. But he and Peggy never got the chance to bond so strongly. He knew Bucky needed him, but Steve also knew he needed Y/N more.

So once his goodbyes were said, he looked one last time at Bucky, and smiled beneath his suit as he vanished into time.

*

The living room looked exactly the same as he remembered. Bucky's coat, slung over the back of the chair, his sketchbooks strewn around the desk. Every rip and chip. His heart swelled with nostalgia, and pain, thinking of the life they were supposed to have.

What must have been in their heads...running off to fight, so eager to throw everything away. And who was left to stare at empty beds and eat breakfast alone every morning? Y/N.

His chest constricted, hearing the keys in the door, the lock rattling three times before letting her in. His nerve faltered for the briefest second, wondering if he was ready to see her again.

"Who the hell are you?!"

Time's up.

Slowly, he turned, and watched as Y/N's eyes widened, all the bags in her hands falling to the floor with a crash.

"...Stevie?" The name came out as a whisper, nearly inaudible.

He grinned, laughing as tears stung his eyes. "Hey, spitfire. Long time no see."

"Steve!" She launched herself at him, arms wrapping around his neck and clinging on for dear life. 

Catching her by the waist, he swung Y/N around, burying his face in her hair. They held onto one another as if they might vanish if they let go. But after a minute, Steve gently pushed her back.

"How? How are you here? What are you wearing? I don't understand, Steve, they said you died! Your plane went down in the ocean," she stammered, hand on his forearm with a grip like a vice.

"I survived. The serum kept me alive in the ice for seventy years," he said, questioning his own sanity momentarily; standing in the flat again made everything that happened seem like a distant dream.

Y/N frowned, brows knitting together. "What? Did you hit your head? Steve, this is 1945."

"I know, I came from 2023. I'm alive," he said, and saw her mentally backing away, so added, "I'm alive, and so is Bucky."

Her head snapped up, eyes immediately filling with tears. A dozen emotions whizzed through them in a second; disbelief, pain, hope. It shone clearly in her face as she stepped closer.

What did you say?" She asked, voice choked as she brought her shaking hands up to her mouth.

"Bucky's alive," he repeated softly, "and I can send you to him, in the future. But we don't have a lot of time. You need to listen to me, carefully, and do what I say."

She spluttered, struggling for words. "I, but...what about you?"

"I've made my decision," Steve said, and gently took her hands in his, "now, please, listen."

*

Bucky watched the machine, feeling a wave of numbness wash over his insides. Nothing was a better deal than the pain, the cruel sting of betrayal fighting to be felt. But he beat it back, unable to allow those thoughts validation.

Steve gave up so much for him, he fought for years to get him here. Steve deserved this. And no matter how wrong those words sounded in his head, he resolutely stood by them. 

The seconds ticked by, noted by Bruce's countdown. A flash of guilt almost made Bucky explain what was going to happen, explain that Steve left them. Left him. But he possessed no energy to speak, they'd see in a second, when no one appeared-

Zap. A blinding flash of light.

There's someone there.

Bucky frowned, hands falling from his pockets. Did Steve change his mind? Did he...

All the thoughts in his head stopped as the figure stepped down. Too small, too lithe for it to be Steve. Bucky's heart rate quickened, something in his unconscious already registering his recognition. 

The suit fell away, and if he weren't frozen in place, Bucky wouldn't have been standing. A quiver shot through him, nearly buckling his knees. Shock, fear and pure disbelief all delayed his reaction.

Y/N looked around, amazed, but turned to stone as she set eyes on him. Her face went utterly blank, a strangled sound leaving her lips.

Wearing her yard slacks, with a small bag on her shoulder, her face covered in dirt, hair streaked with grease, cap perched on-top, slanted to one side...she was everything he remembered, and his heart tried to leave his chest to go to her. To be whole again.

But fear held him back. She didn't know the things he'd done, the person he became after the train accident. What if-

"Who is she?" Sam asked, glaring as he stalked towards her, an accusation rising on his lips.

Bucky answered without hesitation, or thinking; the question had been asked countless times over the years. It always recieved the same reply. "My doll."

Sam stopped short, glancing between them, the way neither took their eyes off the other. He nodded, brows still closely knit, and backed off.

Slowly, Y/N approached, encouraged by the sound of his voice. She reached out carefully, when she got close enough. Trembling fingers brushed his cheek, and a shudder ran through her. 

"My Bucky..." She said quietly, eyes roaming over his face, a small smile tugging at her lips, "...you're here, in front of me. Alive."

He swallowed dryly, heart thundering away beneath his skin. "I'm different...you don't know..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth that her eyes found the cold metal where his flesh used to be. In reaching to hold it, she'd been taken by surprise.

Gently, Y/N took the hand in her own, examing the limb with a careful gaze. Moments passed, and she met his eyes again. Bucky steeled himself for rejection, for the disgust and horror.

Her hand went back to his cheek, and he involuntairly leaned into it. The warmth seeped into his blood. She stood on her tip toes, the smile on her lips blossoming into a bright beam of sunlight. "You've always been my Bucky, and always will be. Metal appendages and all."

He fell apart and dove down to capture her lips, clutching her to him with the hunger of a starving man. She pulled herself in, hands tangling in his brown locks, and both tasted salt on the others' lips.

So filled with joy his heart could burst, Bucky revelled in the feeling of holding his girl again. Laughing through the tears, he buried his face in her neck.

Thank you, Steve, for the greatest gift of all.

[anika-ann]

WINSoD - Epilogue

We’re Tied Together (Always and Forever)

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2, part 3)  

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader  Word count: 3750

Summary: In which you reach the end of the line. Is it though? The end?

Warnings: battle with Thanos no.2, blood and violence, character death, religious motives, mention of afterlife, language

A/N:  Do you ever look at your fic and are like… you know this was supposed to be a cheesy one-shot, right? Soulmate meet-cute one-shot to be precise. Well. That work out splendidly... Anyway, here – the epilogue! Enjoy! Oh, and prepare tissues :-*

Part 6

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Waking up in a comfy bed was surreal; mostly because you knew that after falling – or half-jumping – from a cliff, this wasn’t what was usually happening. You didn’t have much experience, but you still had some common sense left.

Right?

Why did nothing hurt?

“Hello, Little One,” a voice greeted you, startling you enough to roll over and fall from the bed – only to land back in the cushions, confusing the Hell out of you – or perhaps you should have thought Heaven.

Because this was positively Castiel‘s voice. Castiel as an angel. Angels, as far as you were concerned, belonged to Heaven.

Was it possible that… that- this was--?

“Yes, you’re in Heaven… again,” he hummed nonchalantly as if it was perfectly common to just die twice and he seated himself on the edge of your bed.

“I killed myself,” you blurted out the first thing that came to your mind, instantly slapping your palm over your mouth. It sounded terrible, hearing yourself say it out loud, just throw it out in the open as if it was not a big deal.

Which in fact, it was. Since when suicidal people went to Heaven? You never had been good with the whole faith thing, but this sounded a bit sketchy.

“To save half of the Universe,” Castiel questioned, frowning. “Or would you say your soulmate belonged to hell after had once forced the plane down, expecting to die in exchange of saving millions?”

Silently admitting he had a point, you let the issue alone for the moment. Instead, you blinked, taking his appearance in. He was wearing his typical trench-coat, making him look like an accountant, dorky for a celestial being. He fitted in here though – bright room, white sheets, no windows…

“You’ll get a better room soon, less prison-like,” he explained as if he could hear your thoughts. Which he as well might, because he was an angel, you were in freaking Heaven, again, which what the Hell, if you had been before, how could you not remember that-- and everything was so confusing and… lonely. “But I thought you’d like to see your soulmate first.”

Your heart stopped. Later, you would question why did you still have a fucking heartbeat, or why did it feel like it, but did he just say-

“What the Hell is Steve doing here?!” you shrieked in horror and Castiel sighed, possibly at your swearing, but you didn’t give a fuck. What was Steve-

“He’s not here. But a battle with Thanos occurred and I thought you might like to see.”

You ran your hand down your face tiredly, relieved beyond words. Steve was alive, still on Earth – probably.

Christ. Castiel sure didn’t know how to talk to a girl who had a superhero for husband. Or he in fact did, since he was willing to show you.

It took one single snap of Castiel’s fingers and a scene of horror – fire, ash and blood – unfolded in front of you. There was nothing but smother from the debris where the compound had used to be, the Titan with an enormous space ship probably the one to blame.

And barely three defenders of Earth stood against him and his endless rows of army, thousands of monsters ready to take the half of population one by one, just waiting to be released from the ship.

Where were the others? And… Thanos! They killed him! What-

“How-“

“The Avengers gathered all the Stones. Hulk snapped this time, bringing everyone who had died in the original Snap back. Unfortunately, a spy infiltrated the team and led Thanos from the past to the present,” Castiel explained patiently, but you were anything but patient, suddenly angry as gnawing fear bit into your stomach.

“Then why are you here?! There’s… there’s Tony, Thor and Steve, three people—sorta people – facing a fucking ARMY FROM SPACE!” you yelled at the angel, a being powerful enough to drag your ass from Heaven – which you didn’t care for in the slightest.

How could he just... sit here with you?!

“We cannot interfere-“

“The fuck did you just say?!” you spitted out, rising to your feet. “Aren’t angels supposed to be guardians? You-“ you continued your verbal assault in attempt to get him moving, only to freeze when a blinding lightning hit Thor’s hammers (plural?!) and the infamous trio threw themselves into the battle.

You barely had few seconds to feast your eyes on Steve in one piece; he was glorious, standing straight with his chin up, jaw clenched in determination and all you could think of was how strong he was, carrying on with the mission.

You knew it wasn’t that he didn’t miss you, that he didn’t grieve you; he was simply the bravest person you had ever met, just like you had told him before--- ugh, before you had died.

If you only weren’t so terrified for him.

Where was everyone? If the Snap worked and people had been brought back, where was the whole bunch of warriors from Wakanda? The rest of the Avengers’ crew?

Breathless, your heart pounding in both your ribcage and temples, you watched as Thanos tossed the three figures around, almost as if he was playing with them despite their best efforts.

“Get up, Stevie. God, please, get up, get up, be okay,” you whispered urgently with your throat swollen at one particular blow that had your soulmate landing on his back and lying down with his breath knocked out of his chest, his eyes closed in what could only be agony.

With horror, you saw his body turn almost limp, your nails digging into your palms.

GET. UP. Don’t you dare to stay down and get yourself killed!

He clenched his jaw, glint of something that twisted your insides in genuine fear in his eyes. This wasn’t determination anymore. This was madness. He pushed himself on his feet and you couldn’t quite make yourself to feel relieved despite him fulfilling your earlier silent wish.

Determined Steve was a great Steve. Mad Steve? Mad Steve did crazy-ass decisions that could cost him his life. You had that in common.

Your jaw slowly went slack when your very husband grabbed Thor’s Mjölnir as if it was not a mythical weapon from the legends only Thor could lift and… banged up the Titan as if he had been fighting with it his whole life.

Incredulous chuckle escaped your lips when a flash of lightning connected with the hammer as Steve… charged it, only to aim its power at Thanos.

“I told him he could lift it,” you murmured despite yourself, letting yourself to feel a tinniest bit of hope and pride.

There was only three of them now, but surely the people who had been dusted were on their way. Steve, Thor and Tony just had to keep the Titan occupied-

Then the army stood, exiting the ship in a deadly march, no, in a deadly race and Steve got himself into trouble.

You grinded your teeth, unable to look away, but present enough to be pissed as Hell at Heaven and its angels and let them know.

“Do something! He’s gonna-“

A circle of amber-coloured sparkles appeared on Steve’s left and you could cry, recognizing Strange’s handiwork. The back-up was there. The army. The King of Wakanda with his badass sister. Sam. Bucky. Strange, Peter, the Maximoffs. Carol Danvers flying through the alien spaceship as if it was made of cotton candy. Even Natasha emerged from the debris with Clint and the others, causing you to breathe out in relief.

Now the true fight would start.

You weren’t calm by any means. But you were hopeful. Just glancing at the briefest encounter of Natasha with Sam was sweet enough to bring tears in your eyes.

“Kick their asses,” you whispered encouragingly, swallowing thickly and actually praying.

It was nearly impossible to follow the battle then; too many fronts, too many people, half-people and alien creatures. You saw the gauntlet they were trying to protect, you kept your eye on Steve, finding Thanos and his momentary enemies when you had the capacity to do so.

You honestly couldn’t tell how the fight was going, if it was in your favour or not, there was so much blood and smoke and noise… and then something caught your attention with painful clarity.

Several things happened at once; Carol, literally glued to Thanos, who had somehow got a hold of the gauntlet with all of the stones in it (oh God, oh my God, this couldn’t happen again-), was thrown away as if she was nothing but an annoying fly, Tony registered a part of his armour having been ripped away – his hand-piece – and found it with his gaze at Steve’s feet as Stephen Strange raised one shaky finger towards Tony, who suddenly had an expression of utter defeat on his face.

Your slow, terror-struck mind didn’t do the math when Steve jumped on Thanos’ arm, forcing his fingers away so he couldn’t snap his fingers. Something red and flashy glimmered in the mess of limbs, but you didn’t pay enough attention to make the connection. Peter, Spider-man, managed to web the gauntlet, helping out Steve and you almost breathed out the air suffocating your lungs.

Almost.

Because the next moment, Steve was tossed away like a rag-doll, much like Carol had been.

Like in a slow motion, the infamous effect in movies to add dramatics, you saw the Titan raise his hand with a smug smirk; and you noticed, unlike him, that his gauntlet was, in fact, empty of the Stones. But-

“I am… inevitable,” he exclaimed, a dull mechanic snap following his statement.

Nothing happened, except for the huge and ugly purple head whipping towards his useless weapon in confusion.

And that was when you saw it. The glow of the stones in a red piece of armour, Ironman’s armour, that was no longer worn by its owner.

All of the puzzle pieces fell into place, clicking with a painful clack.

Strange’s gesture. Tony’s expression. Crowley’s words of one future, matching the story of the contemporary Sorcerer Supreme. And the red flash when Steve had been fighting Thanos.

“No,” you whispered breathlessly, remembering with startling clarity what Steve had told you about Thanos – the Titan, stronger than all of the Avengers together – looked like after he finished his mission. He had nearly died.  

“NO!” you repeated with more force, horror filling your very being, dimming the world around you, a violent tremble attacking your body at the glint in Steve’s eye.

It was the one that had shaken you so much before. The mad spark.

Do whatever it takes, consequences be damned.

His raspy voice broke your heart in two, tearing your soul when you realized the implication of his words:

“No. You are only dust. And to dust you shall return.”

The snap of Steve’s metal-clad fingers echoed in the room and in your head, the sound seeping into your bones as you were blinded by the streak of colours, the white swallowing the whole world for long seconds.

You were sure that this was what actual death looked like. Nothing but emptiness.

You reflected several of your last words to Steve, wanting to rip your hair out. Why had you told him such nonsense? Why would you tell him that God had wanted it this way, that you had only played your part in His grand scheme?

You finally understood the words Sam had told you so many years ago, about similar people in a relationship being a disaster in making. Steve had embraced your belief in being only a tiny wheel in the God’s great plan.

That was the meaning of the words he said. A famous line from Bible, reflecting how much he believed in God’s work at the moment.  

You are only dust. And to dust you shall return.

In the critical seconds, Steve believed he had been chosen by God to be the tool delivering Thanos his defeat.

And to very likely to pay his life as a price.

Your eyes adjusted to the once again dark scene, where the hostile army started indeed turning back to dust. You desperately searched the only figure that mattered, finding him with his back resting against a random vertical flat surface, his chest barely rising.

The sight on half of his body severely burned, multiple spots on his skin blacking as it already died, had your eyes squeezed shut, your knees giving out as the sob shook your whole body.

The scene was burned into your brain, an image carved into your eyelids, sharp and precise as if you were still watching with your eyes wide open. You whimpered, shaking your head to chase it away. Vainly.  You didn’t remember looking into his eyes, yet you saw them hollow, blue and green always so brilliant misted. Dead.

A hand landed on your shoulder and you winced, releasing another whine, sobs braking through your palm that at some point covered your mouth – whether to be silent of not to throw up, you couldn’t tell. The hand gave you a gentle squeeze that did nothing to sooth your grief.

Oh God, oh you ignorant God, why are you such a DICK?!

“Why? Why did-- it have to--- be him?!” you choked out, avoiding the post-battle sight and instead shot Castiel a glare that could murder.

Your chest hurt. They just tore your heart away, easily as that, hollow gaping space in its place and you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe and hear and see-

“I don’t know, Little One. It was as it was meant to be. You wouldn’t want to see him suffer through your loss again anyway, believe me.”

“That doesn’t make it right!” you spitted out, disgusted at such implication. As if this happened to make you feel better! You were suffering. Hurting. But most of all, you were so fucking angry. With God. With Castiel. With… with yourself. Maybe if you hadn’t told him— perhaps- oh God, oh Satan, let the pain go away… let him rest at least. “What happens to him now?”

“Watch, Little One. He’s not gone yet,” Castiel encouraged you kindly, but you couldn’t- couldn’t—what was happening? Was he trying to tell you that they might be able to save him?

The flare of hope ignited in your body died as fast as it caught fire; why would Castiel say that you wouldn’t want to Steve go through losing you again if there had been a chance to save Steve still?

Steve was about to die. If he wasn’t gone yet, then he must have been in so much pain that your own, this paralyzing feeling, must have been nothing in comparison.

Why were you forced to witness his last moments? What kind of a twisted Heaven was this?

“You fucking idiot,” Tony rushed to his friend’s side, pissed and resigned at the same time.

“We won,” Steve breathed out weakly, only one eye following the movements around him. You buried your nails in the flesh of your palm, choking on your own spit as the sob tried to fight its way out of your chest.

“Yeah, we did,” Bucky confirmed softly, kneeling to his brother; they were nothing less than that. Hesitant hand curled around Steve’s seemingly unharmed bicep and he made a lame attempt at moving his arm to return that gesture. Bucky clenched his jaw, a tear appearing in the corner of his eye. “Don’t call him an idiot, Stark. That’s my job.”

His voice broke at the end of the sentence and your heart shattered as you felt his pain as your own. You couldn’t see anymore. The image was so blurry, but now new fear controlled your body, the fact Castiel never answered you and that meant something horrible awaited Steve in death and this was in fact your last moments of seeing him and— God, oh God, who had ever dared to call you merciful?

“I’m talking to God,” Tony specified and you wordlessly thanked him. “Clearly, he’s a dick for making it this way.”

“Nah. ‘s smart. S-sam?” Steve choked out, voice barely audible and the therapist (with wings now, having returned to his previous job) was instantly by his side, his eyes glassy as well.

“Yeah, Cap?”

An attempt at shake of head was given, you assumed, but barely a motion was the result. “You Cap now. Will ya’?”

If you had any capacity for being astonished left, you would have been at the request. But you were far too gone, drowning in misery.

“…yeah. Of course. I will if that’s what you want.”

“ ’sanks.”

Thor’s enormous figure took a step closer, thunderous voice uncharacteristically quiet. “We’ll remember you, brother. Both of you.”

A faint smile appeared on Steve’s lips, only one corner capable of rising, and yet he closed both of his eyes for a long moment, clearly struggling to stay conscious.

That’s a lie, your mind whispered. Not just conscious. Struggling to stay alive. And losing!

Only one eye opening, Steve managed to cast a half-lidded glance in Bucky’s direction, flickering to Tony for a second.

His next word was crystal clear. “Home.”

Natasha sobbed into her palm, but her delicate fingers curled around Steve’s arm as well, right next to Bucky’s, giving her friend a tight-lipped pained smile.

“Yeah, Steve. It’s okay to go home. To her. Tell her we say hi, yeah?” she pleaded lowly, keeping her voice without a crack despite few tears escaping her eyes.

You stopped breathing altogether and prayed. God, please, let him find peace. With me. And if not with me, at least give him the peace he deserves, I beg you.

Clint fell to one knee, bowing his head.

At first, you didn’t realize it wasn’t just grief sucking the strength out of him. No. Bucky, Sam and Nat instantly followed, mirroring his position precisely.

They were paying their respect to a fallen comrade, you realized.

You couldn’t take it anymore as you noticed everyone else doing the same. Not when during the process Steve’s chest ceased its motions, the life leaving his body.

And your heart left with him, along with your sanity.

Nothing made sense anymore. You fucked up, God himself fucked up and Castiel, and angels and Universe and-- and it hurt. Steve had said that they had won, but you lost. You lost everything.

Your vision was clouded by both tears of sorrow and anger, your body numb from all the pain.

Castiel’s hand slid from your shoulder, finally, but instead, you were pulled into an embrace.

You wanted to push away and run and punch and curl up on the floor, but the arms around you held you too firmly, your head was buried in your captor’s chest. You wanted to fight it, refuse the lame attempt at comfort, and you breathed in furiously to brace yourself to free your body-- but the sudden familiarity, faint cologne and warmth, body large enough to engulf yours, lips in your hair���

“S-st-steve?” you choked out, disgusting gurgle sounding in your throat, but in that moment, you suddenly couldn’t bring yourself to care.

The way you said his name was more a question, but you didn’t need an answer. You would recognize him anywhere.

You husband. Your soulmate. Your Steve.

The arms around you tightened, his embrace turning nearly crushing, his chest expanding with generous inhale as his face buried in your hair further. Your lips curled up in a tight smile and you let out a hysterical laugh, sorrow and joy, pain and relief.

“You’re here,” he mumbled to your scalp, hot tears following his words and you found yourself lifted from the floor, your body nearly merging with his and you could finally breathe again, your heart fluttering in your chest. One of his arms held you securely to his form while the other fisted in the mess of your hair. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t be here.”

“Then why did you do it?” you asked him, the anger seeping through despite the delight at the encounter you could have only prayed for. He was here. “I’m so fucking mad at you.”

“So am I at you,” he opposed, but the growling of his voice was too soft for you to believe him that his rage was larger than his relief.

And so you let go of your own anger too.

This was all beyond your control. Deep inside, you knew that. You had been just playing a part; neither of you had asked for that. You surely didn’t ask to be approached by Crowley and being given the mission, while there was little Steve could do differently when the weapon had been thrown to his feet; a literal throw of the gauntlet that was impossible to ignore.

There was a large scheme of the inevitable put in motion. Who were you to challenge fate?

No point at being mad at each other. Especially when graced with this opportunity to… whatever this was.

“Truce?” you quipped hesitantly and Steve chuckled, a watery sound that made your chest ache, yet filled it with warmth that could never be replicated. For this sensation, so unique, you needed your soulmate only.

And you had him. Forever, perhaps?

Steve withdrew a fraction, his hand caressing your damp cheek as his own glistened with salty drops, but the magnitude of his love, the amount of affection written all over his face, took your breath away, making you forget all about ugly crying.

One look into his twinkling eyes, full of devotion, and nothing else mattered.

“Yeah, doll. Truce. I love you.”

You didn’t get a chance to tell him the same, since he kissed your nose, your watery giggle having his lips spread in the boyish smile you adored.

“I love you too,” you whispered then, planting your own kiss on his lips, chaste and short.

He wouldn’t take it. His mouth locked with yours in a searing kiss instead, emotion pouring from each tiny motion of his lips against yours and you gave in, engaging in the dance of love, your fingers tangled in his locks.

Now this felt like Heaven.

“We’re okay. Everything is going to be okay,” he breathed into your mouth then, fresh tears spicing your kiss.

You didn’t care if you sounded like a child, you asked anyway. “Promise?”

Steve retreated as little as possible to be able to look into your eyes, his own still glassy, but serious and heavy with a vow.

“Promise.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

S.R. masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Am I forgiven? Technically, this could be considered a sort of a happy ending, right? To a point, of course. I mean. Morgan still has her dad. No soulmate pairs were split… :)

Some awesome readers on AO3 suggested that the Winchesters then bullied Cas into bringing the lovebirds back to life, fixed them a cabin in the middle of nowhere, and granted them an actual happy ending. Well. If that makes you feel better, roll with that :-*

BTW, about the scene where they honour the fallen Cap: that scene (with Tony, obviously) WAS supposed to be in Endgame, how dare you, fix that at instant!

I love you if you read this till the end, till the last line. Thank you with my whole heart for your support 🤍

-.-.-

Also, while I love Steve to bits (in case you couldn’t tell) and I was happy for him because of the ending he got in Endgame, understanding the arc the writers made, the more and more I think about it, it was kinda out of character and… maybe I would have been more satisfied if heStevewas the one snapping and taking Tony’s fate. I mean… I would have cried my eyes out, sure, but… but.  Sorry for the ramble O:-)

[oksana-moods]

Ghost of you - Part 13

Summary: The further Ghost investigates, the further she drenches in blood. And Ghost realizes she’s a fly in a spider’s web.

A/N: Sorry if I took so long. Promise part 14 will be here soon.

Trigger Warning: Violence (a lot), language, mentions of death… If you find any, I’ll be glad to add.

 “I'm prepared for this. I never shoot to miss.”

We left Nice early in the morning, arriving in our Hotel in Toulouse right after lunch. While Carol discussed the news with Nat and Steve, I made myself busy analyzing the bracelet. The rocks seemed genuine, just rare and mesmerizing. Everything about it screamed money, an awful big amount of money. This could be a piece of art. I put it in my arm, and nothing happened. No toxins, no poison, nothing trying to pierce my skin. Just a shiny harmless diamond bracelet destined to grace Carol’s wrist. A piece of star for a star herself. The moment we arrived at Théâtre du Capitole, the staff guided us to Greene’s box. It was bigger than I thought it’d be, with room for the Beauffort’s, Batroc, another two couples, Greene himself and us, his bodyguards would stay behind, of course. We had a frontal unrestricted view of the stage, probably the very best of the theater. After the pleasantries and greetings, we took our sits, and an earpiece found its way to my hand. When the show began, I understood why I had one, this was a business meeting. Hm, clever. They talked about money, resources, transports, then they started to plot an attack in London, to force UN’s hand in signing with Beauffort’s company. With this accord, Beauffort would be responsible for every single immigrant on Europe. We were halfway through the show when a new voice joined the conversation. “Can I offer an opinion?” His voice was loud, so this person wasn’t sitting among the audience. “I think that you people should find a better place to meet.” My brows were furrowed and soon a commotion was visible when people started to get up from their sits and walk towards the exit. One of Greene’s goons whispered something in his ear, but I caught ‘Interpol is here’ very clear, he sent a dark look in my direction and left the box, Beaufforts hot in his heels. I couldn’t afford having Interpol asking me questions, so I stood and picked Carol’s hand and started to walk out of the room to follow them, but we were delayed by the others leaving too. When we reached the hall, there wasn’t trace of Greene, so I pick the first set of stairs to find the exit. After a few flights of stairs, I heard Greene’s distressed voice. “This is on you, Jean. You brought her to me, and I let her in. He’ll kill me for this mistake.” That’s news, I never thought that Greene was the leader but a very high member of Spectre, but his fear showed me that he wasn’t that big or… their leader had history of being ruthless. Beauffort’s voice broke my train of thought. “She’s clean, Dom. She has nothing to do with this.” Thank you, Jean. And is true. We never contact Interpol with what we’ve found. Our feet touched the entrance hall just in time to see the deathly glare Greene shot at Jean. “I’ve made my mind, already.” I took the first door and dragged Carol inside with me to avoid being seen by them. “What do we do now?” Carol whispered. “I’m thinking.” She took a deep breath. Fuck. Who the hell called Interpol? Someone else was being investigated, I could only hope that they’d find out who until tomorrow. After all, tomorrow night we’d go to Chateau de Mercues to meet their ‘very important’ friend for dinner, I wonder if this friend is their leader. And something inside me says that yes, it is. “We’ll wait.” I turned to look at Carol. I realized my hand was still holding hers, so I let go. “We stay here and pretend that we watched the show until the end. I’ll call Jean later and see where we’re standing.” I licked my lips; my mind and heart were racing. This ship can’t sink now. We were so close. “We’ll be fine. As long as we keep together.” I said and Carol nodded. I just don’t know if I was trying to reassure her or myself. ------ “Are you okay?” I asked Carol while driving us to our hotel. “Just a bit tired.” Carol being tired was unheard of, but this past week was demanding a lot, from both of us. We were on edge, chasing an invisible enemy, completely out of our elements. I was about to reply when I saw a car from police signaling for me to stop. Something was off. I instantly felt my bones cold and by Carol’s expression, she felt too. They asked for us to step out of the vehicle and we complied with their request. What was going on? There were two of them, one was talking to me and the other had his hand around his gun in his waistband, like he was ready to draw it. We were two women, visibly unarmed, we were no threat to him. This is no good, something is definitely off. God, I’m glad Carol is bullet proof. Obeying his demands, I opened the trunk, and my blood ran cold in my veins when I saw Jean’s very beaten body laying inside. Fuck. This was enough for them to draw their guns and aim at us, the first cop yelled for me to pick Jean from the trunk and so I did. With the movement, he opened his eyes revealing he was still alive but before anything I heard the gunshot hitting him in the back, I pushed him towards the second cop while I hastily broke the first one’s hand, expertly picking up his gun and shooting them both dead in a blink of an eye. Everything happened so fast that Carol was looking at me as if trying to understand the last ten seconds. Before I could reach Carol, I heard Jean coughing, so I crunched beside him. “Is Lara your name, at least?” I nodded to him, my voice caught in my throat, and he gave me that signature sly smile stained with blood. “I liked you. Truly.” He manages to speak. “I’m sorry.” I just don’t know what for. “Run, Lara. Run from this. He’ll kill you…” He coughed blood but kept with his final words. “He’ll kill her.” He softly pointed at Carol with his head. “Tell Debra… that I… I’m sorry.” I saw the light leave his eyes, the familiarity of this hitting me hard. The light always leaves their eyes, but they still look accusatorily at your soul. I closed his eyes and looked inside his pockets for his wallet. Took the money, his watch and asked Carol to jump inside the car. “May your soul find peace.” I mumbled to his body and ran to the car. Minutes later we arrived at the safety of our room. Fuck. Greene set us up.

After we arrived, Carol barely changed her clothes and crawled to bed, claiming she felt being drained. She had a fearful look, and I couldn’t help but think that this was so out of place in her. I was at the door that joint our room with the balcony, I had a perfect view from the door or from the outside in case anyone tried to come flying to caught us out of guard, I stayed the whole night up, but nothing happened. The waitress served our breakfast in the morning and other than that no one came after us. The tv was on, I was looking for any news about last night, nothing yet. “How can you listen the tv? Is extremely low.” Carol’s voice startled me; she had that soft raspy morning tune after waking up. Goosebumps successfully climbed my back and arm. I flashed her a small smile. “Enhanced hearing. Nothing big, though, just a bit more than a normal human.” I lifted a mug with coffee at her. “Feel like eating?” She nodded and climbed down the bed and went to the bathroom to get ready. When she came back, there was a mug with fuming precious liquid and a plate with fruit in front of her chair waiting for her. “Thanks.” She mumbled and I just bowed my head. “Anything yet?” She asked. “No. Nothing in the newspapers either.” I said putting the pieces of paper aside. “Last night… You picked Jean’s money and watch… why?” I sipped from my cup and replied. “That way when the cops find their… bodies, they would think about a possible robbery first. And we’d have time until they come after us.” I felt so uneasy discussing this with Carol. Is not that I felt I’d ever have any chance, but I didn’t want her thinking that I am a cold blood murderer. Too late now, I guess. “How did you think about it? It was too fast.” If she was disturbed because I just killed two cops, she never showed. A weak smile showed itself in my face and I shrugged. “I saw it in an old spy movie. My friend Sam used to like it, a lot.” It’s been years, but I think I’d never stop remembering Sam or Wanda all the time, God, how I miss them. My thoughts were interrupted by a hand reaching mine, I looked up to see Carol’s soft eyes at me. “I’m sorry. I know you miss them.” I wanted to draw back my hand, for her skin was burning mine. “It’s not your fault.” I replied with a small voice, but she squeezed my hand then let go. “I should’ve known about… Thanos. I should’ve been here… with you.” With me? My mind went blank. What did she mean with this? Like being save by the bell, my phone rang, checking the caller id showed me it was Natasha. “Hey Nat.” After minutes explaining what happened the night prior, Steve was perplex with the things I did. “I can’t believe you killed two officers. What were you thinking?” “They were dirty cops, Steve.” I sighed, suddenly realizing how tired I was. “You can’t kill people because you think they’re dirty. And how can you be so sure?” He asked, still pissed and I’m sure he’s right. Just because I’m an Avenger, I can’t do whatever I want. Steve was right. I just can’t bring myself to care, I did what I had to do to protect Carol and I. “Because If they wanted to rescue Jean, they wouldn’t shoot at him when they saw he was alive. This was a setup, Steve. They were ready to draw their guns and they shot Beauffort while trying to shoot at us.” “Are you hurt? Carol?” Natasha asked, concern lacing her voice. I could feel Steve pitching the bridge of his nose, trying not to burst at how stupid I was. “No, we’re fine. Thanks.” “Okay. You two come back and we’ll contact NATO and explain what happened, maybe we still can…” “What?” My voice spoke as if on her own accord. “We can’t go back now, Steve. They’re planning an attack. Haven’t you listened?” I know he was mad, but this? London could be attacked in days, maybe less. “I listened very well, Mav. You’re acting like you run the world, but this is not how we do things! We’re not Hy..” “Don’t even finish this sentence, Rogers. We’re not Hydra, believe me, I know. But I remember when we fought against the Avengers. When we went rogue because you thought you were right, and I believed you, trusted you. And now I know I’m right.” I couldn’t believe he was trying to compare my attitude now with the one I used to have when I was with Hydra. “I’m… I never wanted…” He was out of words; he probably never expected such outburst, but we don’t have time to dwell on such things as past, or… I don’t know what he was implying. “Look, I know what I did was wrong, but that was a choice I made and is up to me to work this through. But we need to focus on what’s at stake here.” I ran a hand through my hair, and I was looking at the phone screen like I could appear at the other side. “We need to keep pushing this. Is the only way.” Even with such small screen I could see Natasha shaking her head. Shit. “No, Mav, you’ve been compromised. They probably recognized you.” I could see Steve agreeing with her. “They sent two cops after us, Nat. If Greene knew who I was, I’m sure he would’ve sent the whole squad.” She looked at me through the phone, but I could see she was thinking, she slowly nodded her head. That’s it! I knew she would see reason. “You’re right. Only Lara is compromised. Still, you need to come back. Is safer this way.” “C’mon, Nat?! You can’t possibly think this is right. What about the attack?” Steve spoke for her this time. “We’ll call the authorities; they’ll work with all the data we’ll send them.” This wasn’t right. It was obvious that they wouldn’t work fast enough. “Steve, what if this isn’t good enough, what if they don’t work fast with all the intel?” He sighed, his telltale that this conversation was over. “They’ll have to.” I closed my eyes and sighed. I couldn’t agree with this. “Mav…” Nat’s voice made me open my eyes and look at her. “We’ll work this through. But we need you two back here in safety.” I nodded at her and she smiled softly. “There’s a flight home in 6 hours, I just bought a ticket for you, girls. We’ll talk when you’re at home.” She sent me one last look, almost pleading for me to be in that plane and I just nodded. “See you in a minute” She finished with a small smile, and she hung up. We would be in that flight, of course. But six hours gave me enough time to attend one last meeting with Greene. “I’ll take a shower.” I said to Carol, who was stunned with our exchange. --------

“Where do you think you’re going?” Carol’s voice startled me at the door. My hand still at the doorknob. “I still have a meeting with Greene. We have a business-lunch scheduled for today.” “But Natasha asked…” I never let her finish her thought. “I know what Nat said. I still have few hours before the flight.” She licked her lips, she was nervous. “But what if he recognized you or try something…” I sighed and pushed away from the door and walked towards her. “Hey, look at me...” Her eyes were locked in mine, making butterflies dance in my stomach. “He won’t hurt me. If anything were to happen, I’ll call you. Is that okay?” She was conflicted and the battle inside her head was visible. She was worried and so was I, but people’s lives were on the line. I couldn’t just sit and wait. “Promise?” She asked softly and my hands found hers, with a light squeeze I let them go. “I promise.”

Greene’s manor was in the outskirts of Toulouse, it was big and beautiful and completely isolated from the other houses. While driving, I devised a plan of action. I would go as if nothing had happened and wait to see his next step. When I arrived at the gates and the security let me inside the property without asking many questions. Hm, maybe it wasn’t Greene who set me up?! However, this thought was soon forgotten, because when I closed the car’s door a fist came in my direction which I easily dodged and kick him down. When I saw a gun aimed at me, I knew that there was no other way around, I’d have to fight to get out of this. I was indeed compromised.

Twelve bodies later, I arrived at Greene’s main room. He was waiting for me, and he wasn’t alone. Batroc was standing by his side with his wicked grin. “Ah, I knew you’d come.” Greene spoke with a cynical grin in his face. “If you knew, why aren’t you prepared?” My comeback was sassy, but dread was roaming in my bones. “I don’t need anyone, except Batroc here.” He said motioning to the man besides him, who started to charge at my direction and before I could even think he knocked me to the ground. Fuck. He was strong, almost strong as Steve was. Who is this guy?

He was trying to break my windpipe with his hands, but after a swift movement he wasn’t pinning me anymore. He came fast and strong with his punches, kicks and different moves, I didn’t know if he was fighting or dancing. I dodged or blocked most of his blows and I got few in. He was fast, but I was faster. His nose was already bleeding when he managed to kick my legs and my back hit the ground once again, before he could try anything else, I kicked his legs and his back found the floor too. I heard gun shots, but my opponent had my undivided attention. All at once, we were fighting on the floor, gripping each other’s legs and arms. Twisting and crawling, pulling and smashing… until he pushed me and tossed over his shoulders, and I hit something sharp when my back hit the table. Fuck. I saw blood dripping from my shoulder blades. With a grunt, I pushed myself off of the sharp edge and got to my feet, right in time to see Batroc charging like a bull. I jumped in his torso, twisting my body in the air making him fall against the broken table, the sharp edge now impaling his back and the tip was coming out of his stomach and he was stuck.

Another gunshot and I stumbled backwards. I looked down and saw my shirt stained with blood in my stomach area. Huh, I fucking hate Greene. I charged at him, he tried to shoot again but I was incredibly fast, even wounded, I took the gun from him and punched him to the floor. Before I could even muster my first question to Greene, I saw Batroc setting himself free from the table. How is he up? I turned and shot him twice in the chest, and with that he fell dead on the ground. I looked at my feet, only to see a very much wide-eyed Greene staring at me like he saw a ghost. Hm, he definitely saw the Ghost.

“I can’t believe you’re real.” His words caught me completely out of guard. “What you’re talking about?” His nose was bleeding and staining his mouth and shirt, but he kept that cynical smile, and my blood was boiling. He screamed after I shot his tight. Good. I wanted to wipe that smile from his face. I picked a chair and sat in front of him. “What the hell?” He screamed clutching his leg. “I asked you a question.” I replied with a flat voice, as if I was asking a trivial question.

“He told me about you. About your arm…” He half laughed and that dread came back to embrace me like a wave. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with. You are a kite dancing in a hurricane, Ghost.” How does he…? I got up and picked him by his shirt. “How do you know this name?” He laughed and I punched him once, twice, and again until blood was covering my metal hand. “You don’t know what you’re looking for, but he’ll come to get you.” I hit him again and again, I just wanted him to stop. “Enough with these riddles. Stop!” I screamed at his face, but he coughed and spat blood on the ground, and he had that smile again. “Look at all these bodies in your way…” He blinked like in deep thought. “Tsc. Is so sad Carol isn’t here to see the type of monster you are.”

At this I felt self-conscious, I used the back of my flesh hand, the one holding the gun, to clean the blood from my lip. “Don’t bring Carol into this.” My voice was so weak, suddenly I felt weak, so I sat in the chair again. “What?” He kept saying with a smile on his face. “You thought she could love you?” My head snaped at his direction. “I never thought…” I began to speak but he stopped me.

“Aah. Please, I saw the way you looked at her. Your desire burned in your eyes…” He coughed one more time, he was paler since he was losing too much blood. “I can see it right now… But she’ll never be with you. How could she? You’re a disaster, you are death… wherever you go, there’s a trail of blood behind.” I tried to run a hand in my hair, but blood and sweat made it impossible. “Stop or I’ll…” He laughed. “Or what? Kill me?” His smile never faded from his mouth but never reached his eyes. “I’m already dead. You are too.” I got up to my feet, suddenly, too restless to stay in that chair. “The only difference is that I’m aware and you’re not.” I walked in his direction. “I said for you to stop!” Focus… Focus… Breathe. I thought to myself. I took a deep breath and turned to Greene one more time. “London. Tell me about the attack.” His eyes focused on me again. “Trying to pretend to be the hero, hm?” He tried to move his body to a comfortable position, but he was too weak, so he gave up. “I don’t know the details…” He sighed. “Is due in a couple of days, maybe in a big event.” I closed the distance between us and punched him again. “Stop lying. Stop with riddles.” When I let him go, he coughed and looked at me dead in the eye. “I’m not lying. We got interrupted last night. We’d discuss this tonight, at the Chateau de Mercues.” Finally, something useful that I can work with. I took a few steps back. “Who else will be there?” He flashed a cold smile at me. “Everybody.” I was about to press further when I heard a faint noise of sirens, and I’m sure they were coming this way. Greene heard too. “Guess we finished here.” He managed to sit against the wall while speaking. “Finish me off. I’ll be only another name on your body count.” I growled at him. I didn’t like the way he talked about me, like I was a wild animal. “I’m not like you, Greene.” I turned to fully look at him. “Oh, of course you’re not like me. You’re worse. You’re the cold murderer they made you to be.” He hissed at me. “Devil created you, Ghost, but I’m not even sure if you’re going to hell or worse.” I shook my head, I had enough of this. I pressed the trigger, but nothing happened, the magazine was empty. I dropped the gun and walked towards him, felling slightly better when he shrank under my glare. “Well, when you see the devil, tell him that I’m not far behind.” Faster than a bullet, my hands moved around his head and a soft snap came from his neck. I got up to my feet. I grabbed his phone and ran down the stairs, the sirens were much closer now. Fuck. This is bigger than I thought. Fuck. Steve was going to kick my ass.

[midnight-lightning]

Of fanboys and soldiers

Summary: A mission goes horribly wrong and now Bucky’s life is in your hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: blood, mention of surgery, Angst, Fluff

"Look, who I found outside!" Natasha was walking into the kitchen, beside her a slightly nervous grinning Peter Parker, who's eyes strangely wandered off and on like he was searching for something. "Hello, Miss - erm Y/N," he stuttered, giving you a shy smile, then he seemed trying to find a position to stand in, not wanting to appear awkward- which he managed without real success. This boy was just adorable. You tried your best to hide your amusement behind a polite smile and rather pointed at the table you were sitting at, inviting him to join you. Maybe some company would be nice. "Want a pancake?" Peter's eyes brightened up for a second when he saw all the food in front of him, pancakes, fruits, yoghurts, fresh bread... everything that was needed to feed the stomachs of several avengers who lived in this - Tony's - house or at least all of them who were at home at this time. "Oh, no, no I probably shouldn't," he declined while he bashfully scratched the back of his head. "Kid, you're family. Now sit down and eat," you insisted and Peter - obviously touched by being called family - tentatively decided to join you at the breakfast table. Meanwhile Natasha- who had watched this scenario with obvious entertainment- pushed herself off the frame of the door and walked out. "Enjoy your meal, kids!" Kids? Excuse me? You leaned back in your seat to see her properly in the hallway before you shouted dryly, "We will! So sad you can't join us!" Poor Nat had to set out for a meeting together with Tony; it involved something about politics, Avengers something like that. Boring stuff. But the second she turned her head back to you, you flipped your chair straight again to avoid receiving any ... not very nice things. Or very hard things. And Nat could aim. Too good. On the other side of the table you noticed that Peter suddenly seemed more relaxed and less nervous now. He still hadn't touched any food, though. You squeezed your eyes in suspicion. "Peter Parker, are YOU nervous because of Natasha?" Poor boy didn't have to say anything, his shocked face and slightly reddened cheeks told everything. "Me? No, of course not! I mean... she's a little ... intimidating. You know what I mean? N-Not in a mean way but- sorry," he stuttered looking down on his plate. "Why are you laughing?" Immediately you stopped, not wanting to hurt his feelings or anything, nor to get blustered over by Tony afterwards for insulting his son. Besides you really didn't wanna see him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Kid. It's just - never mind." You watched him taking a big bite of his chocolate pancake and then humming in enjoyment. Speaking of Tony... "You know your Da- ugh Tony isn't here today, right?"

You made a face. It had already been so common within you Avengers that Tony and him were practically considered father and son that some slippers like that happened sometimes. Though you knew Tony had stopped bothering after a time, you didn't know how Peter would react to hear your inside nicknames for them. Whether he noticed or not he didn't show it, instead Peter lowered his third pancake and looked again kind of embarrassed. "I was - erm actually hoping I would see Bucky."

You lift a brow in surprise. "Bucky?" Have they ever even really met? But nonetheless he and Steve were on a mission in Canada right now and will not return in the next days. "Yeah, I feel like I need to apologize to him. You know for what happened at the airport." Oh. Yes. There they certainly did meet. Your heart swelled up at his statement and you realized there couldn't be any purer angel on earth than him. "Oh, Pete," you sighted. "You really do have a heart of gold, you know that? But I'm sure he never took offense at any of this,” you reassured him. "You see, he was rather shocked at how young you had been." "Wait, he has actually talked about me?" Peter seemed genuinely shocked about it, after literally being Tony's secret ace up his sleeve and kicking their asses all the way. He was seriously surprised people talked about him.

"Ohmygodthatssocool!" He chattered and you let out an amused laugh at his enthusiasm. We've found a fan boy!

If only Buck could hear this right now; See that there are so many people out there who cherished and admired him. People beside you and his best friends.

"Like the winter soldier! Or no, I shouldn't call him like that, he’s more like the white wolf! Bucky Barnes! I would literally-" "QUICK! WE NEED HELP!" Peter's speech was abruptly interrupted by loud voices coming from the entrance.

Alarmed you immediately stormed out of the kitchen, leaving knocked over chairs and dishes behind. You didn’t feel the need to be careful right now because it had been clearly Steve’s voice shouting for help, who shouldn’t have been here for another two days. Unless something had utterly gone wrong. The first thing you noticed, was the huge amount of blood covering up the ground on which Steve stood. The man himself looked like shit. Beaten up with bruises and even burns all over his body.

But leaned on his shoulder, was Bucky and he didn’t even look alive anymore.

Barely audible his name escaped your lips, while your heart stopped beating.

Within a second you were next to him, cupping his face in your hands only to wince at how cold the skin beneath your fingers felt.

Your eyes flickered over his pale skin, over his slightly turning blue lips and his eyes which twitched around the room, not focusing on anything. He was barely even conscious.

His face too was beaten up and burnt, a piece of his eyebrow was missing. But the worst was definitely the bullet wound in his abdomen that made him lose too much blood right now. It was everywhere.

Oh god all this blood.

You were losing your mind.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry

Y/N, calm down. You got this. He needs you.

This all happened within the few seconds you needed to get a grip on yourself.

With a pounding heart you took a deep breath while switching in your professional Doctor mode.

“What happened?” You asked Steve while you slipped to Bucky’s other side so the both of you could carry Bucky into the treatment room.

“We were already on our way back home, thinking we already got everything covered,” Steve started to explain, sounding out of breath. “When they literally appeared out of nowhere. God, everything went so fast then. They were so many. And suddenly they were shotguns and explosions everywhere. And Bucky, this idiot, felt the need to safe me from a bullet.���

Yes, that sounded like the Bucky you knew, always ready to sacrifice himself for people he cared for.

“The hospital was too far away, didn’t want to take the risk, so I brought him back here. I just didn’t know If he … if he would make it any longer.”

You nodded, taking the information in. “He will. He will, Steve.” You answered firmly, but you weren’t sure if you were convincing him or rather yourself.

Carefully the both of you placed Bucky on the treatment table and instantly you reached for the nearest towel you could find. You ripped open his shirt to have a better look at the bullet wound and enough room to apply pressure to ease the blood flow.

Bucky groaned out of pain, making you wince. “I’m so sorry, Buck, but I have to do this.”

Suddenly his hand grasped your wrist.

You froze.

“Y/N?” Barely even a whisper, but you still heard him. His eyelids flattered, struggling to stay awake.

A little relief washed over you face, hearing his voice. At least he had still the strength to talk.  

Softly you put his hand back on his chest. “Shh, save your strength, alright? I need you to hold on, love.”

When you looked up you noticed that Bruce had already arrived in the room, clearly shocked at the view. Still, once he got a picture out of the whole situation he went over to you and without a further question just took a new towel and kept applying pressure on Bucky’s wound instead.

That gave you the time you needed to gather every tool you will need for the small operation. Thereby you lifted your head to Steve and Peter who were watching the scenery with both fear and concern. While Steve looked a bit more stabled Peter turned alarmingly pale himself. He shouldn’t be seeing that right now.

“Steve? Are you in a stable condition right now? Or do you have a serious inju-“

The Captain immediately shook his head. “No, no I’m fine. Please, Bucky is more important in this moment.”

You nodded, your eyes flickering to Peter for a second. “Pete, I need you to leave this room. I don’t want you to witness this.”

The poor boy seemed to be in quite a shock but Steve put his arm around his shoulder and gave you a forced smile. “I’ve got this, Y/N.”

With a last, worried look to his best friend, he and Peter left the room, leaving you and Barnes alone.  

You moved the table with the tools next to where Bucky lay, reaching for the Anesthetic injection when you noticed the blood on your hands.

His blood.

It was everywhere.

His blood.

He was dying.

You could lose him.

His blood.

 Suddenly you felt warm hands covering your trembling fingers, startling you but bringing your mind back to earth. Bruce gave you a small smile but nodded sternly and internally you just wanted to slap yourself. Yes, he would die if you keep sitting here! You had done this over a thousand time, get a grip, Y/N!

But it just never had been Bucky’s life you needed to safe…

Bruce gave you a sympathetic but reassuring smile, before he gently took the syringe out of your hand. While he injected it to Bucky you took the time to prepare everything – yourself included - for what was coming.

“You got this?”

You nodded, not saying anything.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next few hours you could easily call the worst of your life.

Bucky’s pulse had become even weaker, his vitals worse. His whole life was literally in your hands. You didn’t dare to imagine what would happen if his heart would just stop beating, you couldn’t because then you would start to lose your mind and then you would have a breakdown and then no one would be there to safe him.

So you gave your best in removing the bullet out of his body, stopping the bleeding, sewing the wound.

You and Bruce had done everything you could possibly do.

Now the wound was fully treated and bandaged. Bucky’s face was cleaned, the burns creamed.

You were exhausted and drained on a new level, but by god, you couldn’t let yourself sleep right now. You weren’t even able too.

Not when Bucky, your Bucky was lying here, barely having escaped death.

Bruce had gone to bed a couple of hours ago, of course only after he had helped to take Bucky over to his room. Thanks to the serum in Buck’s blood, which ensured that he didn’t need any infusions, he could lay vacantly and comfortable in his bed.  

You sat next to him on a chair, watching his peacefully resting face. Fondly you brushed some hair out of his face.

HE had finally gained a little more colour and even his heart rate was normal again, giving you hope that he’ll finally be awake soon.

“Please, come back to me,” you whispered while you gently brought his hand up to you lips, putting a soft kiss on it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

You must have felt asleep because the next thing you knew Steve was entering the room, a frown on his face.

“Bucky is stable now,” you murmured still half asleep, trying to hide the yawn that escaped you.

Steve chuckled. “Yes, I got it the other twenty times you’ve said that today, too. I’m more concerned for you, Y/N.”

“Me? But how are you feeling? I see Bruce had done a good job on your own injuries.”

“Don’t try to change the topic. You know what? You go and get some deserved sleep, while I watch over him, alright?”

“But if anything happens- “you protested.

“I’ll make sure to call you,” Steve promised, a soft smile on his lips, before he shooed you out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you knew you couldn’t go back to sleep. Not when he wasn’t in reach anymore.

So you paced around the rooms, cleaning anything that was in sight, just to keep your thoughts from the endless racing ‘what ifs’. Friday updated you with every small information or change or anything that concerned Bucky’s health.

When you entered the kitchen you were surprised to find Peter was still here, eating Tony’s inventories of his favourite cookies. This time it was you who joined him.

Apparently he couldn’t sleep either so the next few hours you let yourself get distracted by Peter’s entertaining stories and little jokes, until the end of Steve’s shift drew to a close.

Carefully, not wanting to make any loud noises you opened the door to Bucky’s and yours shared room, Peter who wanted to visit Bucky too, was right behind you.

The early morning sunshine shined through the window right on Bucky’s peaceful features. It made him look like an angel. Though it would be beautiful any other time, now it just made your heart clench.  

With a very exhausted face Steve stood up from the chair he was sitting at and ran his hand through his messy hair, while he still managed to give you a hopeful smile.

“How is he?” You asked him, while you slowly approached Bucky’s bed.

Steve cleared his throat. “His vitals are still fine. Bruce came a couple of hours ago to take a few tests. Everything looked good.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I thought you promised me…” You turned around to the Captain reproachfully and a little hurt but he just looked slightly guilty.

“Y/N, have you seen yourself? I wanted to let you sleep at least for a while.”

Peter, who noticed the uprising tension between you caused by the lack of sleep, immediately stepped in. “But when’s he gonna wake up?”

“I don’t know, Pete.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around your chest.

“But- But it’s a when, right? Not an if?”

“Of course, Pete, I-“

“How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?”

You whirled around. “Bucky...”

There he was… even though he just woke up he already had this amused glint in his blue eyes, watching you all.

With a racing heart you knelt down on the ground in front of where he lay. While you gently put a hand on his forehead to see if his fever vanished you tried to hold your tears back. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky used his hand to put it on top of your own before he grinned weakly. “Well, my eyebrow hurt.”

You chuckled and managed a teary laugh. “Oh? Just your eyebrow?”

Considering there was nearly nothing left of his right eyebrow…

You moved a little as Steve knelt down beside you, giving a little space. “You gave me quite a fright there, pal.” He stated, looking just as relived as you felt. “You know I’ve had everything under control.”

Bucky laughed at this, clearly not believing anything. “Yeah sure. I’ve hear this one over 70 years ago, too, you know.”

Suddenly his eyes locked on something behind you and it was a moment of realization lasting only a split second. When you turned around to see what had caught his attention you noticed Peter who had appeared in the door frame, looking a little bit embarrassed by all the eyes laying on him.

“Surprised to see you here, Spider kid,” Bucky said to which Peter’s eyes widened.

“You- you do really remember me?”

“How couldn’t I? Your attack was quite surprising at the airport. With those sticky ...” Bucky tried to  intimate peter’s movement, struggling for words.

“Nets. Spider nets,” Peter explained with an excited and proud grin. 

“You made them yourself?”

You looked over to Steve who had been watching their conversation in delight and the both of you shared an amused grin about the fan boy. You decided to give them turning friends a little space.

“You’ll be okay?” you mouthed and when Bucky gave you a reassuring nod you and Steve left the room for a while.

You went to the kitchen where you prepared some sandwiches and something to drink for everyone and put them on a tablet.

Steve sat down on a chair at the kitchen isle removing some leftover cookie crumbs. “Did Bruce finally go to bed?”

“Yes, fortunately. Though, I don’t think it will last any longer. He’s Bruce after all.” 

The whole night he had stayed awake taking care of all of you, bringing blankets, food, coffee, treating Bucky… He was a real hero.

“And you should go, too, you haven’t really slept in more than 30 hours,” he said in a stern tone.

“Take a sandwich, Steve.”

“And I know you weren’t sleeping during my shift!” He protested but took the sandwich nevertheless.

You held both your hands up in defense. “Alright, alright! You got me there. Let me just- “A pleading look to the door that lead to Bucky’s room and he understood.

“Yeah, yeah, sure go ahead but I’m watching you.”

With raised eyebrows but still smiling you made your way over to Bucky again, though not without shouting over your shoulder, “You’re not my Dad, Steve!”

You walk in on Peter and Bucky laughing about something; Peter still with a bright, joyful grin on his face. Delighted for this conversation with his hero.

With a smile on your lips you leant against the doorframe and watched the scenery. Bucky was obviously still weak and tired yet you could still see the amusement in his eyes. It meant a lot for him that this boy admired him. While there’s certainly a lot of respect from Peter’s side, there’s not a bit of fear, just honest curiosity.

As soon as Peter noticed you he said a quick goodbye to Bucky and wished him a good recovery, then he hurried out of the room, leaving the both of you alone.

Bucky meets your eyes and you just stopped, and of course you couldn’t help but admire the loving and tender expression in his beautiful blue eyes.

“Hey there,” you whispered softly.

“Hi, doll.”

Slowly you made your way to sit on the edge of his bed. “Peter’s an adorable kid, isn’t he?”

A small laugh escaped his lips and made your heart beat double.

“Indeed, he is. I like his spirit.”

A moment of silence occurred in which the both of you just looked at each other.

“You quite scared me there, Buck,” you then stated, not trusting you voice to speak any louder than a whisper.

“Yeah, I didn't expect to return to you this way, either.”

“How are you feeling?” You placed a hand on his right cheek. “And now please be honest.”

Bucky took a deep breath before he closed his eyes and put his own hand on top of yours. “I’m feeling way better than you think, doll. Don’t be concerned.”

You frowned in astonishment. He’s got nerves. “Don’t be concerned? Love, you’ve just been hit by a bullet. You have cuts and bruises and burns all over your body! How can I not be concerned? Why - why are you looking at me like that?”

He was looking at you in a way as if he didn’t hear a word you just said. Bucky just laid there, smiling, while he lifted a hand to your cheek and gently struck it.

“I’ve missed you.”

Bucky moved to sat up halfway and you just opened your mouth to protest to no move or the stitched will reopen, when he was already pulling you in to a soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut and as always your whole body and mind said good night.

“Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day,” he murmured in between your lips.

Then don’t stop, was all you wanted to say, but you realized his health was more important right now. So you removed yourself a little and wanted to look reproachfully but honestly you couldn’t help with this man. “You’re still looking rather pale, love, you should stay in bed for a while. I’ll bring you food.”

But the moment you let go of him he pulled you further down again so you were now leaning against his side.

Immediately you protested. “You’re injured, Buck. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m still fit enough for this,” he replied cheeky while laying his arm around you. Snuggling into him, always careful not to hurt him somehow, you were about to close your eyes and just enjoy this moment, when a chuckle made you rip them open again.

Peter stood in the door frame, a mischief grin on his face.

“Oh, and Mr. Bucky?

Your eyebrow looks lit, by he way!”

[captainneverever]

Snow Day

written for @lightsonparkave's Prompt Challenge Round 6 -- Love

The Avengers think that Steve and Tony got engaged at the annual holiday party. It’s news to Steve and Tony. (light 616, 1900 words)

Tony rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, vaguely aware of the Avengers alarm going off. Usually he’d be off like a shot heading for the armor, Steve’s voice in his ear relaying mission information. Instead, he saw Steve standing shirtless in his workout pants, coffee mug in one hand, watching the snow dance outside the Tower windows.

“Um, Steve, there’s a mission --”

Steve sipped his coffee and watched the snow. “We’ve been benched.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Isn’t that your call?”

“Not today. Carol called it.”

Tony couldn’t recall a single thing that occurred during the annual Avengers holiday party that would have resulted in them being benched. Food was excellent. He drank seltzer and lemon all night and Steve his craft beers. The Cards Against Humanity game hadn’t resulted in blood-letting. No one had stupidly challenged Thor or Carol to arm-wrestling. No one had complained about the silly, the serious or the thoughtless presents. 

He glanced over at the small black box with the arty cufflinks Steve had given for him on the nightstand. Steve had commissioned the artist sometime last year to craft “space geode” cufflinks. The gift stemmed from a long-standing private joke that would be impossible to explain to anyone else. He grinned, thinking of how Steve said “space geode.” 

It all went off the rails when Steve had given him the box in the kitchen when it was just them alone instead of during the group present opening. Jan had walked in on Tony enthusiastically kissing Steve and then jumped right out with profuse apologies.

Now that he wasn’t on call, Tony snuggled deeper into the sheets and blankets and blatantly ogled the lovely ass sight in front of him.

He asked, “Why? As far as I can tell, you and I still have all our limbs attached, no concussions, no body swapping …. Unless there’s a surprise you’re about to spring on me. Like a visit from our clones or something.”

“Team thinks we got engaged last night so we’ve got the day off.”

Tony could hear the touch of amusement in Steve’s voice and wondered if Steve had put up much of a fight about being benched. Probably he did; he didn’t take benching well, even for a good cause.

Then it sank in what Steve had said. “What?! Wait -- did Jan think --”

“It wasn’t just Jan. Clint overheard us talking about big news before the party.”

“The new quinjet redesign?”

Steve set down his coffee mug and joined Tony on the bed. He swung his legs up, and rolled onto his stomach, and smiled at Tony. He kissed Tony’s bicep. “Only you and T’Challa would consider that big news.”

“The team will love the more comfortable seats are bigger galley,” Tony grumbled. “So, the whole team thinks that you and I are getting married.”

“Jess asked if we’d set a date yet.”

“July, of course. Best weather in the Hamptons,” Tony replied automatically. “Hard to get hotel rooms, and we’d have to book the venue a couple of years ahead of time. It’d be worth it.”

Steve booped Tony’s nose and chuckled. “That’s the official date -- we’ll have already gotten married in private a few months earlier. City Clerk’s office.”

“That’s just complicated and unnecessary.”

“So are supervillain attacks and alien invasions. Have we gone to a single superhero wedding that didn’t get interrupted?”

Tony had no answer. He couldn’t think of one, and he’d gone to his share of the events. Sue and Reed couldn’t even have a baby shower without a supervillain attack.

Steve concluded, “If we’re already married, then all Zemo or Kang or Ultron would be breaking up would be a party.”

“Or the Controller or whoever is in charge of AIM these days or -- let’s be real, there’s at least fifty guys and gals that would go a long long way to bust up our big day.” Tony drummed his fingers on the bed. “Wait -- why did they jump straight to us getting engaged? Why not moving in together? I could have given you a box with a key to my suitet.”

Steve collapsed on the bed, his body shaking from laughing. Tony swatted at him as Steve shifted away from him and wiped tears from his eyes. 

“What’s so funny, big guy?”

“The team and reserve Avengers thought we’ve been living together for the past year. I was informed of this fact this morning.”

“Oh, wow. How could we have missed that?” 

Steve looked thoughtful. “I do spend most nights here already.” He poked Tony in a ticklish spot. “If I moved in officially, I’ll need some closet space, more than the two drawers I’m using --”

“I’ll build you your own closet. I can draw the plans up right after breakfast. I’m going to design you a closet that’s going to be on the cover of Architectural Digest.”

Steve wriggled back under the covers and the sheets, and propped his arm up on the pillows. “Are you asking me to move in?”

“Do you want to move in?” Tony replied. His breath hitched and pulse beat faster as that old fear that Steve would bail on him reared its ugly head. A lifetime full of disappointments and Steve’s workaholic tendencies had taught him to be wary.

But he’d give his eyeteeth to have more of Steve.

Steve fiddled with the blanket and looked at a spot at the end of the large bed. “I always imagined you’d ask in a more romantic way. Involving a dinner.”

Tony’s heart flipped. “You’re one of the most unromantic people I have ever met. We can order takeout and eat while we make space for you and your toothbrush in the bathroom.”

Steve slid an arm around Tony’s waist to draw him close. “Home is where I hang my shield. A nail in the wall, a nightstand, and one side of the closet, and we’re all set.”

“Ha,” Tony snorted. “Do you think we could get all that done before the team returns?”

He grinned as he watched Steve analyze and calculate the team’s chances. He adored Steve’s brilliant tactical mind, the little half-smile he always had on his face as he considered and weighed strategies. Just part of Steve’s charms. 

“The main factor is whether or not the Wrecking Crew are having a magically juiced-up week. Weather forecast has more snow. Team is worse for wear because of the party. Odds are that they’ll be out for a couple of hours minimum.  

“Well, now that we know it’s the Wrecking Crew --”

“I didn’t want to leave the Tower to fight the Wrecking Crew,” Steve confessed.

“Instead you settled for moving in with me? Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” 

Stevet tugged him closer, letting Tony tuck his head into his shoulder. The idea of waking up to this every single morning warmed Tony from head to toe. Something they could build a life around.

“Now that we’re living together, when are you going to make me an honest man?” Steve teased.

“Wow, we haven’t even hung up your medals and had a fight over your hideous chair --”

“Team thinks we’re engaged already. We can’t undermine their trust in us.”

“You just don’t want them to know that you didn’t tell them the truth that you didn’t want to fight the Wrecking Crew in a blizzard.”

Smiling, Steve ran his fingers through Tony’s hair. “They saved me from planning the proposal.”

Tony pulled away to stare at Steve. “Wait. Slow down. You just talked me in letting you move in --”

“A formality -- I have clothes and uniforms here, my pile of books are next to my side of the bed, I was just asking for more closet space.”

“Right. Back to that proposal thing. What?”

Steve sat up a little straighter so Tony could curl into his side. They could see the snow coming down in thick white flakes, the sort of snow that promised many inches, school closures and miserable fighting conditions. The Avengers had been more than generous to let the newly engaged couple sleep in. 

“I bought more than the cufflinks at the jeweler’s. Just waiting for the right occasion. I made reservations at L’Artusi for Valentine’s -- was working on other ideas, like flowers, that sort of thing.”

“Steve,” Tony exhaled with all the love he felt for Steve. A Valentine’s Day restaurant date was a big, fussy ordeal -- with a planned proposal thrown into the mix -- and Unromantic Steve was planning to do it all for him. A big risk, given all the space wars they’d been in recently.

“We’ve talked about it, getting married.” Tony nodded in agreement, and Steve continued. “I picked up the ring and all I could think about was when I could ask you. I almost asked last week at breakfast when you were fixing the coffee machine.”

The thought of wearing Steve’s ring took Tony’s breath away. Steve had always wanted to be married, though Tony had a healthy fear of marriage, considering his parents and the strong likelihood he’d wake up and find that he’d married sentient armor or a Skrull. It could happen -- he’d lay good money that it would. Tony’s luck ran on the rotten side.

But here was Steve, right next to him on a snowy morning in New York, and he was going to Officially Move In today. He’d loved Steve forever, since Steve opened his eyes in that sub a few years ago. He couldn’t possibly name anyone he’d want to marry more than his Avengers co-leader -- they had saved each other’s lives too many times to count, they finished each other’s sentences, he could practically read Steve’s mind by now. 

No wonder the team thought that Steve had proposed last night. They should have been married years ago. They should have gotten married the afternoon Tony found him. It was ridiculous the amount of time they hadn’t been married. 

“Since you’re asking, yeah, I’ll marry you.”

Steve kissed the top of his head. “How about next week?”

“Next week?”

“City Clerk’s Office.”

“I take back what I said about you being unromantic. You’re such a true romantic, through and through.”

“We could get married Tuesday at the City Clerk’s office -- we get a license on Monday and there’s a 24-hour waiting period.”

“Tuesday? Hmmm -- I probably have something scheduled that day.”

“You’re free, I already checked your schedule.”

“You planned this,” Tony accused Steve. 

Steve put his arm around Tony and hugged him. “No, that’s giving me too much credit. I researched possibilities, in case they came up. Be prepared.”

“I couldn’t possibly love you more than I love you now.”

“You will when the Masters of Evil crash that fancy wedding the wedding planner put together and we have to drop everything to arrest them. And we’ll be married during the whole fight.”

“Our secret.”

“Just us.”

The wind picked up outside and the snow fell harder. “I should feel bad about the team out there in the snow,” Tony admitted.

“It’s their gift to us,” Steve replied. “An early wedding present --”

“For the men who have everything,” Tony finished. 

“Yeah.”

Tony tapped the bed thoughtfully. “I have some favors to cash in for the honeymoon, in that case.”

“I’d like to go to Europe,” Steve offered. “It’d be nice to visit on our own, not as Avengers.”

“I have ideas already -- you won’t regret it. We’re still going to L’Artusi for Valentine’s, right?”

“You bet.”

[msmarvelwrites]

The Winter Ghost - Part 14

Info: A Devastating car crash causes you to lose your memory and start over. The only thing left in the wreckage was the horrific nightmares which plagued your mind. If you knew what today would entail you would have just stayed in bed. But you didn’t and because of that, everything you knew was about to change.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, gun violence. 

w/c: So close to 2k that I’m going to call it that. (I really tried)

A/N: 14?? This feels crazy, but here we are. I definetly also just posted, but I was excited to keep sharing with you guys. As always, any and all feeback is welcomed! 

You had spent the last hour or so exchanging song suggestions with Bucky. Most of his music was from the seventies, claiming it was the best decade for music. You didn’t protest as you hummed along to something by Fleetwood Mac. 

This was different. Maybe it was the impending danger of the mission or the way his words were a hushed whisper against your ear. Either way, you felt the shift. It was visceral, the way he made you feel. Like debating the best pump-up jam was the most intimate thing you'd ever done with a man. 

“We’re approaching the drop off.” Sam announced from the cockpit. 

“Everyone ready? Sam and Wanda, you take the back, Bucky and I will lead Nat and Y/n through the front, after that you're on your own. Collect intel, and get the hell out. After I set up the timer we’ll have fifteen minutes before the place blows. Everyone clear on the plan?” Steve spoke through our coms. There was a collective ‘got it’ and a series of thumbs up’s before the jet began to near a clearing. Everyone seemed to still as the wheels collided with the earth, reality settling in. This was it. 

“You got this.” Bucky’s whispers as his large hands on either side of your shoulders sent you back to the situation at hand. 

“Lets go kick some Hydra ass.” You smirked, pulling your pistol from your thigh holster and loading it with a loud click.

“Damn, that's gotta’ be one of the top hottest things I’ve ever seen,” He chuckled, helping you out of the aircraft and onto the ground.

“Oh, yeah?” You quirked a brow, unsure where this witty banter was coming from. Was he flirting with you? If he was you were definitely flirting back.  Before he could answer, you heard Nat’s voice behind you. 

“You guys ready to go?” She asked, eyeing Bucky carefully. You nodded, pulling your hair up into a tight ponytail on top of your head. 

Bucky brushed past you, “You got my six?” He spoke, sending a wink your way. 

“We’ll see.” You retorted causing him to chuckle. 

“Let's head in, team.” Steve spoke through your earpiece, leading the rest of the group towards the Hydra base. 

“Hey,” Wanda's voice beside you, taking your hand in hers. The silver sing on your middle finger glowing with her power. “For good luck, okay.” She smiled, before running after Sam towards the back of the seemingly abandoned warehouse.

Mentally thanking Wanda for her borrowed magic, you looked upon the large building. The outside lights were shut off and it looked to be uninhabited. But you knew better. Steve suspected Hydra was experimenting with a messy version of your serum. As far as you knew, they hadn't been successful. You weren't sure what was going to be worse. An army of super soldiers like you, or a pile of mutated, radiation filled bodies. You shivered at the thought. Most definitely the latter.

“Entering the south side of the building now.” Bucky spoke, a few passes ahead of you and Nat. 

“Front entrance is unlocked.” You heard Sam's voice through your coms. “No guard. Just dark and empty.” 

“Keep an eye out. We know they're home.” Steve said. 

“You got it Captain. Wanda and I are going in.” 

You neared the back entrance of the building, watching as Bucky used his metal arm to tear the door from its hinges. You tried to refrain from moaning at the sight.

As you entered the building behind Nat, you noticed two dark hallways headed in opposite directions. 

“Cummon, we're going left.” Nat nudged you while you followed her. “See you on the other side, boys.” She spoke. And with that, your group split, while the two of you ran down the hall towards your mission. 

When you reached two large metal doors, you knew you had made it. A large silver padlock hung from the handle. You lifted your hand, your ring glowing a deep crimson as the lock turned to dust, flaking off onto the ground. 

“I’m never going to get used to that.” Nat muttered, yanking the door open and holding it for you. 

“Me either.” You spoke honestly, propping your body against the door. “I’ll keep look-out, grab the files.” Nat nodded, pulling open the first file cabinet and rummaging through different folders. 

“Y/n” a deep voice ripped through your mind, causing you to stiffen. For a moment, you thought you had imagined it, looking at Nat still flipping through files. 

“Y/n.” the voice spoke again. Something about it felt so familiar. Like you had heard it say your name like that before. A strange murky memory rang through your mind. 

“Did you hear that?” You asked. Nat froze, listening for something. When nothing came she shook her head. 

“I don't hear anything.” She shrugged, hacking into the computer on the desk, and watching the screen come to life.

“I’m just going to go check outside.” You mumbled, as the voice echoed around you once again. Nat nodded, typing on the keyboard, reminding you to stay close. You motioned an okay, opening the door and stepping into the dark hallway. 

You looked around, letting your eyes adjust to the dim lighting. The moon streaming in through the broken window, the only thing illuminating the dark concrete walls. You held your breath, waiting for something to jump out at you, but nothing did. 

Suddenly there was a cracking noise in your coms, followed by Sam’s broken voice as he shouted, “They know were here. We’ve been ambushed!”

“Get out, now. Nat, Y/n, do you have the files?” Steve yelled. You heard Nat shuffling inside the room behind you but before you could answer, the voice echoed through the empty hall. 

“Y/n, did you miss me baby?” Their words made you shiver. You spun around and what you saw sent a wave terror through your whole body. A gasp escaped your lips as you tried to speak. The man took a step forward, his face illuminated by the moonlight. This wasn't real. He was a ghost.

“T-Tommy?” You sobed. A small smile pulled at the corner of his thin lips. It was so familiar. His fluffy hair, unkept and in need of a trim hung loose around his face. His green eyes, sparkling with flecks of gold around his iris. Those freckles, you swear you had counted at least a dozen times. You knew where each one marked his straight nose. But how could this be the same man from before. Your Tommy. You were half expecting to look down and see three gruesome bullet wounds in his chest. But there he stood, alive and very much not shot.

“You're not really here. You're dead. I- I watched you…” You tried to understand. This wasn't right. How was he here right now? How wasn’t he dead? You wanted desperately to be thankful, but there was a sickly feeling in your gut. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’m here now. I’ll explain everything.” His words were so inviting. So warm and homey you couldn't help but launch yourself into his arms. He paused for a moment before wrapping himself around you, holding you close. You breathed him in, his familiar sent washing over your body and sending you into euphoria. You could have stayed in the moment of ignorant bliss, but the loud banging from the door behind seized you. 

“Let's blow this dump we gotta-” Nats voice was cut off by the image before her.  You turned around, noticing the fear in her eyes. Panic washed over your body as the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. This wasn't right. This wasn't supposed to be happening. 

Within the second it took you to turn back to Tommy, he had pulled out his gun, aiming it dangerously close to Nats head. Two lethal shots echoed through the empty halls as the bullets ripped through her chest, sending her backwards. 

“No!” You screamed, trying to push away from Tommy, but it was no use. 

“Y/n. Nat, what's your status?” Steve shouted through your coms. You looked up at Tommy, who only seemed unfazed by the situation at hand. Natshas only groaned in pain on the floor below. She was losing blood, and fast, but you could tell she hadn't been hit anywhere deadly.

“Tommy, let me go. Let me help her ” You started, but he only shook his head and signed. 

“I’m sorry, baby. You know I can't do that. I loved you. I really did.” The past tense sent a sharp pain through your heart. “But this is more important than you. More important than us” He lifted his hand, the small needle shimmering in the light as he plunged it into your neck. When he pulled it out, it was empty, just like his eyes. 

“What are you-” You tried to start, but your body felt weak. Your eyes, heavy as your legs began to wobble beneath you collapsing into Tommy’s arms once again.

“I've got you now. Everything is going to be okay.” He whispered, as you gave in to your exhaustion. The world around you began to spin until everything went dark.

“Y/n come in!” Bucky’s voice boomed through your coms but your mouth was so dry you couldn't form words. 

“We’ve been compromised, Buck.” Nats voice rang.  “I’ve been hit. They got Y/n.”

“Dammit. What's your location? I'm coming to you.” He shouted. 

With every ounce of strength you had left, you let Wanda’s power surge through your body, sending a pathetic zap into Tommy’s chest. It wasn't strong, but it was enough to shock him and pull yourself out of his grasp. You tried to run, but whatever was coursing through your bloodstream had its nails deep in you. You got half way down the hallway before your legs gave in, sending you hurtling down, face planting into the concrete floor. 

Tommy laughed behind you. What once was a sound you ached for, now seemed tyrannical and revolting. “You always were a fighter. Right till the bitter end.” He cooed, words dripping with hatred. 

You choked on the blood pooling in your mouth from the fall, and tried to form a sentence, but everything burned. Instead, you forced out a whisper. 

“Bucky” You breathed. 

The sound of Bucky’s worried voice echoed through your com but you couldn't make sense of what he was saying. You tried to fight it, you really did. But it was no use as Tommy dragged your limp body down the hallway and away from Nat banging on the door. 

The last thing you remember seeing was the passing street lights. They illuminated the cobblestone as you peaked out the window of the van. 

This was your fault. The plan was solely based on your weakness. They knew it, so shouldn't you just accept whatever fate they had planned for you? You certainly deserved it. You had gotten Natasha shot for god's sake. You just prayed that wherever the team was, they would leave you to rot. They didn't need to be swept up in your mess. 

This was your end. It was inevitable. At least now it was over and you could stop pretending you didn't care. At least now, Bucky was safe.

................................................................................................................................

A/N: Thats it! Thank you to everyone who is still reading this mess lol. As always, I am eternally greatful to @cutie1365​ for all her help! If you havent already checked out her writing, what are you even doing? GO NOW! And reblog and like if you enjoyed! 

@projectcampbell​

@kalesrebellion​

@calwitch​

[sherrybaby14]

The Final Girl

Summary:  Slasher AU!  You need to outsmart the killer and stay alive.  Will you be the final girl?

Warnings:  Look, this is horror.  I’m not going to warn.  Don’t read this if stuff makes you squeamish.   

Sex wise the only warning is dub-con and Smut

Pairing: Killer!Steve Rogers x reader

Words: 2300

A/N:  Happy Friday the Thirteenth!!  

               The branches whipped across your cheek as you ran through the forest.  Your lungs burned as you pushed yourself into the darkness.  Feet crunching broken twigs and rocks.  If you survived you would never take shoes for granted again.

                 You bit back the sob.  Trying to focus on the woods.   A simple camping trip.  It sounded good.  How did it end up in a blood bath?   All of your companions dead, slaughtered by the masked stranger.  Images of their corpses, the sounds of the slicing made you want to cry and puke.  

                 You had been next on the chopping block, but broken free.  Whoever the killer was he was fast and strong.  There would be no beating him so you took off running.  

                 There was no sense of safety.  He was behind you.  Close.  A few times you swore you felt his fingertips on your shoulder, but you didn’t dare turn to look or else risk running straight into a tree.  

                 WHOOSH! An extra force came, pummeling you forward. You smacked into the forest floor and skidded on the ground adding more scrapes and bruises to your collection. Your body collided with an oak, sending pain through your hip.  

                 Before you had time to respond a hand was on your shoulder, yanking you to your bloodied feet.  The killer had you.  You were no longer the final girl, just the final victim.  He was going to win.  

                 Moonlight shown off the hockey mask.  He moved his hand to your throat, his fingers big and powerful squeezing down.  

                 He raised his other hand, knife primed to stab into your flesh.

                 “NO!” You brought up a foot and kicked out as hard as you could, nailing him between the legs.  

                 His grip loosened, but not enough for you to make an escape.  It set his aim off, but the knife came down, slicing across the top of your arm. Hardly a death blow.  

                  “Fuck!”  You winced. “That HURT!”

                 You brought your fist back and slammed it into his face.  The mask hurting your hand more than damaging him.   But the exchange of events was enough to throw him off guard as he dropped his hand from your neck.  

                 Not was your time to run again.  You turned and made it three steps before his fist was in your hair, pulling you backward.  

                 “Fuck off you fucking coward!”  You reached up to grab his wrist, trying to put some of the pressure off of your scalp.  

                 He had you.  There was no escape, but you were not about to go down begging.  You were better than that.  You heard all the cries and please from your friends. Those would not be your final words.

                 “You’re a garbage piece of trash.”  A squeal left your lips as he dropped his hand from your hair.

                 Your scalp throbbed, but the second you hit the ground his arms were on you, hoisting you in the air and over his shoulder.

                 Your head hung down as you beat into his back, swearing and cursing at him as he ran through the forest like you weighed nothing.

                 “JUST KILL ME AND GET IT OVER WITH ALREADY ASSHOLE!” You shrieked among the trees.  

                 It was a safe assumption he was taking you back to the campsite.  Wanting to slaughter you with the rest of what remained of your friends.  You were shocked when he slowed and you heard a door opening.  

                 A light flipped on and you were inside a small cabin.   He dropped you on the floor like you were a sack.  You clutched your side and winced in pain. He slammed the door behind you and clicked a lock shut, removing the key.  

                 You glanced around the room.  It looked like a crazy person lived here.  Knives and axes hung from the ceiling.  The walls were covered in old newspapers.  There was a dresser with strange knick knacks on it. The only normal piece of furniture was the twin sized bed.  It was unmade, and almost looked too small for the large man.  

                 You were shaking, trying to take everything in as you sat up.  Could you reach and grab one of the knives?  He would be faster.  There had to be a way out.  

                 The killer set the key on top of the dresser and walked over to a full length mirror in the corner.  

                 “Are you going to kill me?”  Your voice cut the air.  

                 No response.  

                 “If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.” Your strength was fading.  

                 You looked at the slice to your arm.  It was deep.  Mud and blood mixed together to look like a strange tattoo sleeve.  Your feet were in no better shape. Thorns, and dirt embedded in your skin.  

                 You couldn’t focus on the pain.  You needed a plan.  Something.  As you scanned the room a headline caught your eye:  STEVE ROGERS ESCAPES!  Your heart stopped.  WHERE IS STEVE ROGERS?  Your eyes scanned further.  Every article was about him.  

                  “You’re Steve Rogers.”  You’d heard myths over the years.  

                 The one-time hero turned madman.  He escaped a maximum security facility, killing 32 on his way out. No cage could hold him.  

                 “You were a war hero.”  You gulped. “You saved the day!  You don’t want to kill me.”  

                 He turned away from the mirror, mask still on and tilted his head.   He picked up the machete and started toward you, waving it high in the mirror.  

                 Your gut told you to cower and beg, but you made a promise to yourself.  If this was your demise you were going out strong.  

                 “Now you’re nothing but a coward.  Do your worst you piece of shit.”  You popped up to your feet, ready to fight when he lowered his weapon.  

                 His head went straight and he returned to the mirror.  Shit. He liked it when you yelled at him. It was the one thing none of your friends had done.  

                 No begging.  No whimpering.  

                 “Why?  Why did you kill all those people?”  You folded your arms and straightened your neck.  “Answer me.  NOW.”

                 His hands went to the mask and he slid it off. You caught the reflection in the mirror and had to stifle yourself.  Shocked at how good looking the crazed killer was.  Almost as if he hadn’t aged a day.  

                 He turned to face you, again without answering.

                 “Are you going to kill me?”  Your eyes narrowed on him.  

                 “Eventually.”  He set the machete down.  

                 His eyes were on you, studying for a reaction. But you didn’t show any fear. That is what would lead to your downfall.  You needed to control this situation.  

                 “So what…you thought you would have fun with me?” The sound of your blood hitting the floor echoed across the cabin.  “Torture me? Rape me?”  

                 The fire in his eyes ignited and his jaw clenched. That was the wrong move.  You could see him thinking it was a bad idea keeping you alive already.  He went for the knife again.  

                 “Because you can’t.”  You took a step closer to him, moving your hips in a sultry way. Taking drama had finally paid off as you hid your terror to reach out and touch his face.  “Not when I’m willing.  I bet it’s been a long time since you’ve had a woman?”  

                 He let out a grunt.  You didn’t understand how you were doing this without throwing up. Call it a will to live, but you ran your hand down his chin.   Trying your hardest not to look at the knives within your grasp.  You had to play this safe.  Wait until he was really distracted.  

                 “It’s been a long time for me too.”  You pressed your forehead to the killers. “Especially with a big strong man like you.  Now get on the bed.”  

                 You raised your leg and pressed your thigh to his cock.  He was hard as a rock.  You bit back the whimper and tears that wanted to come forward.  

                 Instead of listening to you he grabbed the back of your hair and pulled your head to his.  Slamming his lips to yours.  His eyes were closed and you glanced at the machete.  You reached out for it, but at the exact moment, he picked you up and carried you to the bed.  

                 You knew he didn’t want a fight, the way he freaked at you mentioning rape.  So even though your insides were crawling and you wanted nothing more than to shove him away you returned his kiss.  Even letting out little moans as he laid you down.  

                 His body went on top of yours, but he pawed at your clothing.  With the weight of him, you were still able to shimmy out of your shorts while he clawed at your top.  You could do this, sex with a killer if it meant survival.  

                 A rough hand found your fold and started to poke and prod at you.  His thumb pressed against your clit and you bit Steve’s lip.  He let out a wince as he dragged his mouth away from yours.  

                 He glared down at you.  A slight black eye forming from where you bunched him and red blood on his lip from the bite.  His hand still working you.  He wanted a reaction.  It was hard to tell which one.  No begging. No pleading.  

                 “Fuck me.”  You narrowed your eyes.  “Now.”

                 There was another flare of rush and you pulled his head back down.  This time to your neck.  He started to kiss and bite at it, but his hands went to his pants as he pushed the mover his hips.  

                 His cock smacked against you, but you tried to ignore it as you scanned the room for a weapon.  There were several knives hanging above you.  Of course, he slept under weapons that could fall and kill him.

                 You reached an arm up, but they were way too far. In your attempt at a weapon, you missed the start and moaned as your back arched.  It felt like Steve was well endowed.   His hand movements had given you some slickness, but not enough to accommodate him.  

                 You tried to relax, not wanting him to rip you into two.  He dragged his head up from your neck and glared down at you again.  The second you broke you were dead.  He was looking for weakness.  You would show him none.  

                 SLAP!  Right across the cheek.   His head twisted to the side as your palm print started to show.  

                 “Get to work.”  You grabbed his chin.  

                 Excitement was plastered all over him.  You wanted to gag and cringe but instead tried to give him lust-filled eyes.  And to your horror, he did exactly as was told.  

                 Steve began slamming into you, grinding his pelvis down on your clit.  Fuck it felt good.  The throb in your feet and bleeding arm started to mix in there too.   You tried to ignore it, tell your brain to look elsewhere.  Think of an escape.  

                 Then he brought his thumb to your mouth and pressed it to your lips.  It was dirty, dried blood and mud.  But you parted your lips and tasted the copper and earth, swirling your tongue around the digit as he continued to rail you, sometimes stopping to grind against you.

                 You felt shame grow with the coil.  You were going to cum, from a madman who just murdered all of your friends.  In a dirty cabin with knives hanging above your head.  

                 “Fuck.”  You tried to slink into the mattress, get away from him, from this.  

                 But then you caught sight of his eyes and realized it was orgasm or death.  You would take the orgasm.  So you flexed your hips up to greet him.  Brought your hands to his wrist and sucked on his thumb like it was a lollipop.  

                 The anger left and he picked up the pace. Grinding, fucking, sucking.  The spring-wound tighter.   Tighter. Tighter.  

                 A moan left your mouth as you came undone underneath him.  The mix of adrenaline, terror, bravery, pain, and pleasure all forming one giant ball of release.  It felt like every emotion flooded your body and evaporated at the same time.  

                 Toes curled, vision swirling.  It was rapture.  You took a moment for your head to come back down.  You could be disgusted with yourself, but right now you were alive and you needed to be that way.  

                 You pressed your hand to Steve’s shoulder and started to roll him.  He narrowed at you again.  

                 “I know you’re not finished.”  You weren’t trying to shove him off.  You put more pressure and moved with him.  “My turn to be on top.”  

                 His eyes softened.  He liked the idea.  

                 His hands went to your hips as you straddled him. He dug his fingertips in and you started to roll your hips and bounce.   Steve’s eyes were on your face.   You couldn’t reach up for the knife.

                  You needed him to shut his eyes.  Look away.  

                 That was motivation enough.  You went to town, clenching your thighs as you bobbed your body, using muscles you didn’t even know existed.   Squeezing yourself around him as you took him deeper, harder, faster.

                 His breathing increased.  You needed something to send him over the edge, but not too bad he would switch positions.  Then it came to you.  His infamous catchphrase.  

                 “I could do this all day.”  You clenched down.  

                 His eyes went wide with shock, but it worked. You felt him harden inside you, going into his own orgasm.  

                 You had seconds to react.  His head fell backward eyes shut.  You left up and grabbed one of the knives yanking it down as you dropped to your knees.  Plunging it straight into his chest.  

                 His face twisted in shock and dismay as you stood up from the bed and backed away.  Blood started to pool from his mouth as his stickiness dripped down your thigh.  

                 “Die you fucking psycho.”  You spit at him.  

                 It appeared he was on his way.   You fell against the wall, breathing heavily.  The final girl.  

[anthonyed]

Okay first of all I fucking loved the stuckony ticket you wrote! Could you do number eight form the list with the same pairing? But only if you want!

Thank you! Could I ever resist my ot3? (the answer is no) I got carried away with this. It's Part 2 of this. Full story on Ao3

prompt:  “Everyone knows the 90s were the epitome of high fashion.”

-//-

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re jealous.” Bucky says casually one afternoon. A pint of ice cream in his hold and he’s shovelling it into his mouth while the summer sun burns his back. 

Steve chokes on a sip of ice lemonade from where he lays; a little more shadowy ground than that of Bucky’s. His Irish complexion doesn’t tan, it burns.

“I’m not jealous of you and Tony.” he jumps to defend, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Scandalised to even be accused such.

Bucky breaks into a slow victorious grin, the spoon dangling from between his teeth and he says, “I didn’t say what you were jealous of.”

If not the sun, Steve burns from humiliation. “I’m not,” he insists like a child accused of stealing from a cookie jar.

Bucky hums, scooping another spoonful into his mouth and he looks away thoughtfully. Steve follows his gaze, sees where it lands and he shakes his head, immediately looking away.

It’s Tony, lounging on a float with his shades on and a glass of bright orange something in one hand. He’s got a pair of shorts on and nothing else. A thousand times better than Bucky’s swimming trunk. Which is stupid short and incredibly tight.

It’s so out there, that even Steve cannot help but catch himself looking. Just like now.

“Like what you see?” Bucky’s voice snaps him out of it and colors tomato red up his cheeks.

“It’s awful,” He grumbles petulantly, rubbing both hands down his face. Maybe he should just call it day and hide in his room. One humiliation after another is bad for the soul.

“You don’t have to hide what you like, Stevie.” Bucky says softly. 

Steve drops his hands and glares at him. He’s no longer shovelling ice cream into his mouth. In fact, he looks genuine from where’s sat, regarding Steve with curious eyes. 

“I hear it’s okay for fellas to like fellas these days.” There’s a clear intent in his statement. Just, what it is, Steve has a little trouble pointing it out.

“I - yeah,” he confirms.

Bucky nods, the corner of his mouth lifting a little and he’s looking down at the pint of ice cream on his lap when he speaks, but his words hit bull’s eye with daggers straight at Steve’s weakest point. “Remember, my first kiss?”

Steve inhales sharply, his throat going dry and his insides clamp. He manages a shaky nod, couldn’t avoid looking at Bucky even if he wants to run a mile away from him. If there was one thing Steve was hoping would stay out of Bucky’s memory permanently, for his own selfish purpose. It was that.

17 or 28, give or take seven decades in between, Steve is never going to be ready to acknowledge that particular event. It wasn’t that he hated it. Instead, it was quite the opposite. But the memory is tainted with sins and illicitness. Illegality and crippling fear and back then, it was traumatising. 

Even if today, he knows, logically, that it’s normal.

“Did you like it?” Bucky asks quietly and Steve feels his skin tingles. 

He cannot recall it, his mind refuses to. Secretly allowing a vivid recollection of it only in the darkness, when the rest of the world has gone to sleep and Steve is on the brink of his orgasm; close to breaking, consciousness shot to death and only his subconscious ruled.

“Bucky,” Steve warns roughly.

But Bucky keeps talking like he didn’t hear Steve. Like he’s remembering it for himself, by himself.

“Cause I did.” He smiles a little, twirling the spoon inside the pint. “I do,” he corrects softly. Then he tilts his head a little, frowns at his hand and he wonders aloud, “I didn’t force you did I?”

“No,” Steve rushes to negate. Always. Looking out to not make Bucky feel bad. Always ready to protect. “It was mutual.” He adds, biting his lip after in regret. There wasn’t a need to say that. 

Bucky looks up then, bright eyes glinting, and he looks equal part mischievous and reckless when he shares, “I remember loving you. Like a fella supposed to love a dame, yeah?” It’s rhetorical and Steve’s shot dead in cognition, but he nods jerkily anyway.

“Would you have stepped out with me if I asked you then?” Bucky cocks his head curiously, “Scratch that,” he waves, “Would you step you with me now?”

“Bucky,” Steve breathes painfully. He looks at his first love, his pal and his buddy, and he looks at his other love, the one who he dared to in this century; bore a crush so warm and secure in the core of his heart, he wasn’t ready to speak out, but he was ready to accept.

“Bucky,” he says seriously, “I think Tony likes you.”

“I know,” Bucky nods slowly, “I like him too.”

Steve blinks. “No,” he says, “I don’t think you understand. Tony likes you, like that.”

At that, he receives a flat stare, “I know that, Stevie. I like him too.” Bucky enunciates pointedly.

Now, Steve’s just confused. “And you’re asking me out?” 

Bucky rolls his eyes like he’s stupid. “Yes, I’m asking you out. I asked him out too. He said yes by the way. He’s just not sure if you like him like that.”

“What?” Steve turns to the pool where Tony’s steadily floating, not a single care in the world. It’s absurd. He cannot believe what Bucky’s saying. “Of course I like him. I just,” he stops, shaking his head firmly, “I would not come in between you and him like that.

“Oh please,” Bucky laughs, “By all mean, please do come in between us like that.”

When Steve gawks, Bucky’s glee mutes. 

“Stevie, doll-face,” he calls, and Steve looks from Tony to him. “Did you seriously live three years in this century without knowing what polyamory is? Do I have to educate you about everything?”

There’s a teasing tone to his question. A sly smirk which Steve scowls at long and hard before begrudgingly admitting, “What’s that.”

-

One short but compact lecture about polyamory later, Bucky sits on Steve’s bed and insists that in order to impress Tony, Steve has to start including 90s fashion into his daily style.

Steve balks. “I am not. Doing that.”

“Then you’re gonna have a tough chance wooing him. Especially me looking so dapper over here.” Bucky shrugs, pulling at a lone thread hanging off of his sleeve ends. It’s another obnoxious pattern; horizontal green and black stripes with baggy jeans he wears so low even if it’s secured by a red belt with its end poking out of the loops. 

There is no way Bucky seriously believes he’s dapper. “You said he likes me already.”

“I said he didn’t know if you like him like that. Not that he likes you.”

Steve stops in the middle of folding back all his clothes Bucky had strewn out over the mattress. Bucky grins. “Chill,” he says, abusing the term he’d learnt from Parker and his teenage gang. “I’m messing with ya. If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t have said yes to the date.”

Something still feels wrong. Steve doesn’t like not knowing Tony’s opinion from his own mouth. “Are you sure?” He collapses on the bed. Tossing a crumpled shirt aside, he scrubs his face. “I don’t know if -,”

“Miss Fri?” Bucky sing songs. Steve startles, reaching over to smack Bucky’s mouth shut but the jerk ducks, cackling as he asks for Tony.

“Bucky!” Steve hisses, face increasingly heating up, palms clammy. He lunges for him but gets himself in a headlock with Bucky’s thighs around his neck. 

Sooner than expected, Tony’s voice booming through the speaker and Steve’s palming his face, mortified.

“I hear I’ve been summoned by the coldest Winter?”

Bucky snorts, “Not funny. I have Stevie here tryna pull out our date. Tell him he’s wanted.”

Tony doesn’t even pause a beat, “Stevie, you’re wanted.” He repeats robotically.

“Tell him you like my 90s look.” Bucky bugs, and Tony, so obediently, like he’d never been with Steve, tells Steve just that. “I keep telling you Cap. Everyone knows the 90s were the epitome of high fashion.”

Bucky digs a toe under Steve’s arm, “Now you believe me?” Then he goes back to Tony, “Tony, tell him he needs to wear like me to impress you.”

This time there’s a long beat of silence. Bucky’s grip around Steve’s neck loosens. Steve cranes his neck to look at him. Bucky shrugs. “Tony?”

There’s a sigh. Then, “James, you know I don’t care how you dress or look right?” Tony asks seriously. 

Bucky rolls his eyes. Letting Steve go, he flips onto his stomach and flings an arm over Steve’s shoulder when Steve settles by his side. “Of course I know that. I just think it’d be cool to prank Stevie,” he knuckles Steve’s head pointedly, “And now you went and ruined it.”

Tony’s chuckle filters through the speaker. A little shaky and nervous. Steve perks up at that. 

“Is that right, Steve?” Tony asks, addressing him directly. Steve ducks away from Bucky’s arm, blood pooling at his cheeks and he turns his face away. 

“He’s blushing,” Bucky supplies dryly.

“Will you stop?” Steve hisses at him, aiming a kick and this time it meets the target, sending Bucky down the bed with a loud thump. 

“Is Buck -,” Steve starts and stops. He thinks hard and starts over, ignoring Bucky’s pained groans. Drama queen. 

“Do you really want to date Buck and me?” he asks Tony.

“Yeah,” is the raspy reply. “Unless you don’t -,”

“I do.” Steve interjects. “I. I really do.”

Tony chuckles again, this time still low but none of that shaky nervousness and Steve smiles at that, dopey. 

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky grunts, pushing himself up on the bed with an exaggerated effort. “Did you know he just pushed me off the bed?” He complains to Tony.

Steve rolls his eyes and kicks him again. Bucky goes down with another thump. “Again!” Bucky yells. “He did it again!”

Tony laughs, “Well they do say two is better than one.”

"Not when my ass is sore, sugar."

Steve shrugs, "I don't about that..." he trails off.

Both Bucky and Tony gasps out aloud.

[slashthedice]

Ko-Fi Commission: Ghost Face x OC for @handfulajake

Thanks so much for commissioning me again, I was so excited to have more insight into Tobias and to get to work with him for a second time! Tobias belongs to @handfulajake.

Word Count: 3,728

TW: graphic depictions of non-con

The air in Coldwind always tasted sour. There was this element of rot and decay that weighed upon one’s lungs like the corpse of an ill begotten albatross. Unsurprisingly, it was strongest beneath the so-called sacrificial tree. Tobias always felt like he was choking beneath its carcass laden boughs, so of course the only uncompleted generator he could find was situated within its shadow.

His limbs were aching, his entire body sore from the trial’s exertion. He winced as he forced a generator part back into place. He could feel the stretch and pull of the bandage-wrapped lacerations that littered his flesh as he worked. The weak sputterings of the generator were almost comforting, they helped to drown out the mournful bellows of dying cows that plagued his mind any time he approached the macabre shrine. This was, admittedly, one of the first relatively quiet moments he had been graced with during the trial.

He couldn’t let himself become too complacent, however. His gaze flickered upwards every few seconds to scan the corn for movement. The stalks swayed gently of their own accord, ears whispering incomprehensibly amongst themselves. Tobias squinted, searching the shadows for a flash of white within the darkness. He knew better than to think that The Ghost Face would let him walk out of there unscathed. He had been a thorn in the killer’s side since the moment they had awoken beneath the pall of the derelict farmhouse.

It had all started with Steve. Hubris was often his downfall, and this time was no different. Tobias hadn’t even found his first generator before he heard the unmistakable sound of the younger man’s pained screams. He didn’t think, he couldn’t. He was filled with an all-consuming determination that pushed his legs to action. He ran through the open field despite the stalks that grasped haltingly at his clothing and limbs. 

When finally he burst from the wall of corn, he spotted Steve on the hill. He hung limply, blood dripping down his arm from where the hook had pierced a grizzly hole through his shoulder. He realized distantly that he had become unsettlingly accustomed to any number of nightmarish injuries. Tobias looked for a hint or sign of a killer, but the only sight that greeted him was fog and farm.

He felt exposed on the hill, but it didn’t matter. He had to save Steve. He grabbed the younger man beneath his arms and lifted with all the strength he could muster. Steve cried out as the hook was dragged back through the ragged wound. Tobias clenched his teeth, staggering under the weight of his fellow survivor.

As soon as Steve’s sneakers hit the bloodied dirt, Tobias felt a chill dance up his spine.

He looked over his shoulder while the other man clutched at the gaping hole beneath his clavicle, harsh breathing dripping with pain. He scanned the edge of the corn, expecting to find the killer peering at him from its cover. He saw nothing. 

He was about to chastise himself for being overly cautious when he heard it. It was a sound he would never forget, the slightest woosh of fabric and the rub of leather creasing. His eyes snapped to the source at the base of the hill and his heart skipped a beat as they landed upon the perpetually screaming mask of The Ghost Face.

It was all he could do to turn on his heel, shove Steve towards the hill’s dropoff, and yell “RUN!” before he felt the bite of a blade as it slashed across his back.

Still, he would gladly do it again, a thought that flashed gratefully across his mind as he watched Steve dash into the obscuring cover of the dry corn stalks and beyond the reach of that damned knife.

He had somehow managed to lose the killer in the ensuing chase, although not before delivering his own sort of retribution for the new gash with a few well-thrown piles of debris and wooden pallets onto his stalker’s head. He would have been lying if he said the subsequent sounds of disgruntlement from behind him weren’t overtly satisfying.

He only saw Jake a couple of times throughout the trial, and even then it was really only in passing or over hurried conversation regarding who would be best suited to distract the killer while the other went to rescue Quentin from a hook. While Tobias won the honor of performing the role of bait, Jake had passed him a flashlight with fresh batteries before slipping away quietly towards their dream-walking counterpart. 

Tobias had played his role well, being suitably annoying to the ever so familiar killer as time and again he slipped out of the way of near missed strikes. But somehow it hadn’t been enough to keep the Ghost Face’s attention. He wasn’t sure whether or not he was toying with him or if he had simply grown frustrated with the hunt, but soon enough the masked murderer had turned away from the pursuit of his prey and stalked off in the same direction Jake had headed only a handful of moments before.

Tobias made a bold, split second decision to chase after his former pursuer, intent on getting between an already vulnerable Quentin and the malintended blade he was sure would follow. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough. Quentin’s cry splattered wetly across his eardrums like hot blood across tile. He spotted the familiar shape of the young man’s denim-clad form, sprawled in the dust beside a heap of hay bales. The Ghost Face stood over him, wiping the blood from his blade and watching as the survivor raised his head and began his attempts to crawl away.

The killer reached down and grasped Quentin by the back of his jeans, hefting the young man up onto his shoulder. Tobias took his chance, sprinting into the open and doing the only thing he could think of: aiming the beam of the flashlight directly into where his foe’s eyes should be. Ghost Face tried to turn away from the blinding light, but in doing so gave Quentin an opening to wiggle out of his grasp and sprint away. Tobias did the same before he could give the killer the opportunity to turn his ire upon him.

It felt like the trial had been going on forever. 

He nearly cried with relief when he finagled the final misaligned generator part into place only to be greeted by the heavenly sound of a ding and the click of lights turning on. This was almost immediately echoed some distance away as his compatriots finished the last of the generators. The industrial alarm that rang out to signify the powering of the gates sounded for all the world like heaven’s bells chiming.

The hope that ignited within his heart was almost immediately extinguished when he heard Steve’s screams for the second time that night. It wasn’t possible, he shouldn’t have been able to catch him that fast. The blast and boom of energy as the Entity tore its way into the trial arena was deafening. Tobias choked down the acrid bile that rose in his throat as he sprinted towards the exit gates.

The same hope that he had believed snuffed out fluttered anxiously in his chest when he spotted Quentin at the gates. He wasn’t sure how he did it, but the younger man always seemed to be able to coax the mechanical apparatus into opening faster than the rest of them, or maybe it was all in Tobias’s head. Either way, he was grateful to see that the door was being worked on.

“Where’s Jake?” He asked Quentin, apprehension hanging thickly from his tone.

Mussed brown hair bounced as the young man looked stiffly over his shoulder at him. “Last I saw, he was with Steve.”

He wanted to go and look for the saboteur. He wanted to find him and escort him personally to safety. He wanted the three of them to get out of there in one piece and not have to think about the Ghost Face for a long, long time. For the time being, however, all he could do was bounce on the balls of his feet and whip his head back and forth between the lights above the gate control panel and the deceptive calmness of the corn. Like still water, somewhere beneath the surface there lurked a shark waiting to devour them all.

The siren indicating the final stretch of the unlocking sequence wailed behind him. He willed Jake to appear, to burst from between stalks and usher him out of the exit. Part of him hoped that maybe his friend had found the other gate and was in the process of opening it. Of course, the part of him that was mired in dread knew that that was not the case.

“Almost done,” Quentin called, the final light blinking and throwing a red glow over his pallid face. “We’ll have to go and hope Jake can find the hatch.”

Tobias wanted to say that he wouldn’t leave Jake, that the three of them would go together or not at all, but he knew Quentin was right. Standing in the exit gates would not help their companion and would only put their lives at risk as well. Death happened all the time here, but each time you were left to the Entity’s devices, you came back feeling a little less whole than you had when you entered the Trial. Tobias didn’t want to let that happen to Jake.

He heard the tolling of the opening bell and his heart dropped a little further into his stomach. Accepting that there was nothing more he could do, he turned to follow Quentin out. His retreat was halted when he saw Quentin’s tired eyes go wide.

“Wait! There he is!”

He rounded on the direction in which the young man had indicated, spotting the welcome familiar flash of green and brown as Jake barrelled through the corn towards them. Husks clung to his wild dark hair and determination burned in his expression, though it was tainted with fear. He saw his two companions waiting for him, and Tobias thought he would have taken solace in it, but instead the terror in his eyes grew ever stronger.

“Run!” He urged, “Get out!”

Tobias’s first instinct was to obey Jake’s frantic order. But as he let his eyes slip from Jake’s, he came to the chilling realization that his friend would not make it without intervention. Since he doubted the Entity was taking requests, the burden of assistance rested on his shoulders.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Tobias turned away from the siren call of the gate’s light while Quentin called after him, asking what the hell he was doing. Confusion consumed Jake’s features before his eyes were painted with a dawning understanding. He started to object, but it was too late for him to stop the wheels that were already in motion.

The pain of a blade entering his body was much worse this time. Tobias couldn’t withhold the scream that tore itself from his throat as steel sliced through muscle and sinew. Adrenaline numbed some of the pain, but it wasn’t enough to keep him on his feet. He collapsed to his knees before falling prone on the ground, twisting his body just enough to watch Jake collide with Quentin.

Something heavy was planted firmly atop his head and he realized with mounting rage and ignominy that Ghost Face was driving his face into the dirt with his booted foot.

“I’ll deal with you in a second,” the words were hissed down at him, each one as painful as a wasp sting.

The weight was lifted and Tobias immediately began the arduous process of pushing himself up to regain his footing. He watched through unfocused eyes as the killer swept towards his fellow survivors. Quentin pulled Jake towards the safety of the distant light of the campfire despite whatever resistance the saboteur put up. He knew Jake didn’t want to leave him behind anymore than he had wanted to when the positions were reversed. Tobias willed him silently to go, because whatever Ghost Face had planned for him, it wasn’t going to be pretty.

The black-robed killer took a conciliatory swipe at the retreating backs of the two men as they dashed just beyond the point where the Entity would allow him. He watched them go for a moment while Tobias watched him, relief sweeping through him as he was assured that his sacrifice hadn’t been in vain. With that knowledge in mind, he bolstered himself. He could take whatever Ghost Face was about to dish out.

He had just barely succeeded in stumbling to his feet like a newborn deer before the predator had pounced upon him once more. Leatherbound fingers wrapped themselves in his hair and yanked his head backwards, turning his face heavenward and exposing his throat. He grunted and grit his teeth, fully expecting to have that throat slit.

“You just had to make yourself a nuisance.” Ghost Face spit each syllable at him with a virulence he hadn’t been expecting.

Tobias wanted to laugh in his face. “They got out, they’re safe.”

“For now,” the other sibilated, the lingering threat cutting through the survivor’s pride. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

“The collapse already started. You lost.” The declaration was much more bold than he felt. 

He could basically feel the way the killer seethed behind his mask. “Let’s put that pretty mouth of yours to better use.

Tobias’s tongue went dry but he continued to glare up at the rapidly darkening sky.

“On your knees.”

The knife at his throat reminded him that Ghost Face’s words were not a request. Anger coiled inside him, flashing like flames within his eyes, but wordlessly Tobias dropped to his knees. The impact kicked up dirt and dust around him, coating his jeans in fine powder. Beneath the corn and dried grass he could see the way that the world around him seemed to pulse with magma colored energy, threatening to come apart at the seams with more and more voracity as the seconds ticked by.

Ghost Face adjusted the fabric of his leather robes until he could release his half-hard cock from its confines and directly into Tobias’s face. He knew what he wanted, but he was revolted by the thought. Nausea roiled in his gut as he thought of all that this man had done to him, to his family and friends. Tears of frustration threatened his reddened eyes, but he fought them back. 

He won’t see me cry again, Tobias promised himself. Never again.

Ghost Face’s hand in his hair tightened and he prodded at his sealed lips with the head of his cock.

“Open up. And no teeth.”

When Tobias did not immediately comply, he pulled roughly on the dark hair gripped within his gloved fingers, causing the kneeling man to cry out. That gap was all he needed to shove his length as far between Tobias’s parted lips as he could.

Tobias immediately gagged and choked, spluttering around the sudden and unexpected intrusion. Ghost Face groaned, shoving more of his cock down Tobias’s throat until the younger man could no longer breathe. A second hand joined the first in his hair and held him down with his nose pressed into the other’s pubic bone until he was seeing stars. His face was hot. A mix of shame and hate burned beneath his skin and tears pricked at his waterline despite his vindication against them. 

When the stars began to blink themselves out and his vision was instead blanketed in total darkness, the man standing over him took mercy on his hapless lungs and convulsing throat by rolling his hips backwards and momentarily giving him room to breathe in greedily through his nose. Tobias wished he could spit out the taste that stained his tongue. This man tasted like sweat and wickedness. The urge to bite him was strong, like a blinking beacon at the forefront of his mind.

Without warning, his head was forced back down and all he could do was make a strangled gulping sound as he struggled to accommodate the incursion. Blood pounded in his ears, the sound of it rushing drowned out all other noise. Not the sound of his choking. Not the sound of Ghost Face’s dark chuckling. Not the sound of the whole world falling apart around him. All he knew was blood and the slow suffering of suffocation.

The ground lurched and shook beneath his knees. He wished it would just swallow him up. He hadn’t experienced it himself, but he had heard tell of what happened when the trial collapsed in on itself. Meg had described it as the worst pain she had ever experienced. Worse than a bear trap on her ankle, worse than a knife in her belly, worse than having her head ripped off by an otherworldly monster..

The tears spilled in unbridled trails down his face. He couldn’t have stopped them if he wanted to, and he surely wanted to. The saltwater mingled with saliva and dripped down his chin to dampen his shirt.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tobias could still see the artificial illumination from the exit gate. It sat there, bathing the pathway to safety and salvation with its pale glow and taunting him. He was so close, but there was no escape for him. Either the Entity would take him or Ghost Face would gut him once he was finished with him. He couldn’t see a way out of this one.

As if reading his thoughts, the killer looked down at him, oozing with a sort of self satisfied smugness that made Tobias’s blood boil. “I can’t wait to watch you die. I hope loverboy was worth it.”

He punctuated his statement with a harsh thrust of his hips and a deep groan. It was the only warning Tobias received before heat flooded across his tongue and down his throat. He coughed, spilling pearlescent cum from the corners of his mouth. Thick droplets stained his clothes.

Finally Ghost Face took a step back and pulled his cock from Tobias’s lips, allowing blessed relief to his aching jaw. But before he could slump forward and spit out the cum that filled his defiled mouth, the killer caught him by the chin with one hand. He used his other to cover Tobias’s mouth and nose.

“Ah ah ah, spitters are quitters. And we both know you’re no quitter. Right, Tobear?”

The nickname filled him with renewed rage. Hatred, swirling and viscous, flowed through his heart and mind. How dare he? He took everything from him, and even here in this purgatory he couldn’t escape the Ghost Face.

He wanted to spit it in his face. To bite the gloved hand that covered his mouth. To hit, and kick, and punch him right in the stupid victorious grin he knew was hiding beneath his mask. But he couldn’t do any of that if he couldn’t breathe. He held out for as long as he could, staring up at his tormentor defiantly. It wasn’t enough, and with sweeping humiliation he was forced to swallow the salty, sour mess in his mouth.

“Good boy,” Ghost Face jeered.

Once released, he hacked and spat as much of the rancid taste as he could manage onto the now muddied ground below him. It was slow and painful, but finally he could stand on his own two feet again. A bone-deep ache had settled itself within him, sapping what little energy he had.

“What now?” He demanded, voice ragged and sharp.

“Tell you what,” the killer drawled as he tucked himself back into his clothing. “If you can make it out of those gates before tall, dark and spidery gets bored of waiting, I won’t gut loverboy the next time I see him.”

Tobias stared incredulously at him, not comprehending what exactly was happening. Was he really giving him a chance to live?

“Clock’s ticking.”

Tobias forced his screaming muscles into action. He pivoted towards his one chance at safety, throwing all of his weight forward as he launched into a sprint. He could make it. He had to.

The world around them had grown almost supernaturally dark. Normally the realm was slightly chilled, crisp wind cutting across the trial arenas to mingle with the thick fog, but now it was hot, almost painfully so. The ground was cracked and glowing, holes opening up around him while strange embers were kicked up to dance on the wind. He wasn’t sure how much time was left, but it couldn’t be much.

He hadn’t even made it two meters towards his escape before a sound like a tolling bell reverberated within his mind. He could only glance over his shoulder towards the dark figure standing behind him before a force swept him off of his feet and into the air. After that, all he could do was scream. He only had the barest hint at a moment to look at the spiked spider-like appendage that had skewered him through his abdomen before more of the abhorrent things appeared. His hands fluttered uselessly around the wound before the other legs clamped around his body like a vice and broke him in more places than he knew possible. He wasn’t even sure if he was screaming anymore, didn’t know if he was even capable of it. Why wasn’t he dead? He should have been dead. Just get it over with and kill him already!

The final blow came when a final spiked leg drove itself through his head, snapping off his consciousness and ending his life for a period of time.

He didn’t-- couldn’t-- know anything as the blackness of oblivion overtook him until he would next awaken at the campfire. But he did know one thing. He knew that the Ghost Face had watched him die. He knew that he hadn’t looked away for a single moment as his body was mangled beyond recognition. And he knew that that had been the plan all along. There was no escape for Tobias because he simply hadn’t allowed it, and he realized that he never would. Death truly wasn’t an escape.

[anika-ann]

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.6

Holy Wrath

Type: series, soulmate AU series  (part 1, part 2)       x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?)    Word count: 2380

Summary: Things get messier. ‘Natasha Rogers’ is not the only lost soul... and God always works in mysterious ways, doesn’t he?

Warnings: mentions of violent deaths and torture, amnesia, swearing, supernatural stuff... and angst with some hope in it ;)

Story masterlist

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Two businessmen faced each other in a shadowy room with unpleasantly sterile lights; an attentive eye would recognize they found themselves in a vault due to the heavy door with a golden wheel opening and the drawers lining the walls. A small army of heavily armed men along said cases created an air of being secure as much as in danger.

Just standing in such room put a weight on one’s chest – especially with the terrifying chair with straps and heavy panels ready to ruin human mind, a tranquilized man trapped in it.

Of course, one of the men facing each other, the older looking one, had no reason to feel threatened. He was simply doing business here and the army was at his side. His wrinkled face was scrunched in a grimace though, deeply discontent as he stared at the other man in no less expensive suit, but with an almost friendly glint in his eyes, a bit goofy face with a beard, framed by curly dark hair.

One would feel pressured in such space to begin with, but now, the two ‘businessmen’ built up an atmosphere nearly suffocating, a tension cuttable with a knife. The suspicious calmness of the goofy man was extremely irritating to the other.

Because clearly, they had made a mistake. A really fucking big one. The blond old man clenched his fists as he continued the rather loud conversation with the man who had showed up out of nowhere, claiming to share his interests and offering a lot of money.

Dammit, he should have known better than take an advice from him!

The mess they were in now!

“You said that killing her will bring a stop to the Avengers, because he was sickeningly in love with her,” the blond strained through his teeth, tone dangerous to cover up his growing fear for their mission. “That he will be grieving so much that he won’t be able to fight! He’s fighting like a madman!”

The dark-haired man only smiled, shrugging as if it wasn’t a big deal. “Perhaps he reacted differently than we expected him to.”

“PERHAPS!!” echoed in the vault madly, making several people flinch. Not the one who was being parroted mockingly and with rage though. “He’s taking down our facilities. One. By. One!”

“Seems like fate wanted it that way. Or, you know, God’s will-“

“I don’t give a damn about God’s will!” the blond sputtered back.

His business partner made a face, his grimace as if saying ‘ouch’. His tone when he spoke up told the same tale. “Well, I…. I wouldn’t say that if I were you.”

“Why? Because the holy wrath will be set upon me? Please. There’s no God. And if there was, he sure would like me doing what-”

The blond’s bright blue eyes seemed to bulge sickeningly as his fingers reached for his throat, struggling to take a breath all of sudden, unable to finish his sentence. He stumbled back with an accusing and yet bewildered gaze, causing all of the men draw their weapons and aim them at the supposed enemy.

An enemy who only tilted his head, otherwise not doing a thing. Was he even the cause of the older man choking? He couldn’t, right?  How would he?

“Wh-ah-I..?”

With a flick of a hand, all of the soldiers fell to the ground, unconscious.

The men who were sitting at the monitoring would have seen that it happened all over the facility, hidden in one of the biggest bank in Washington, but they didn’t – they lost consciousness as well.

The goofy man gave his partner a tight-lipped smile, almost patronizing.

“Ah. I don’t know. ‘He who lies in His name shall choke on his own false tongue’ feels pretty real now, doesn’t it?” he exclaimed and repeated the motion that had sent all of the armed men to the floor. He pointed at his hand then, grinning like a kid, genuinely excited. “I love to do that for effect. I don’t have to, a thought would be enough, but the dramatics is exceptional.”

He snapped his fingers then, suddenly standing in front the choking man in more comfortable clothes of jeans and lose plaid shirt. He allowed the other man to breathe in so he wouldn’t pass out; yet, he wouldn’t be able to speak just yet.

“If I had let you continue your… master plan without my good advice, you just might have succeeded,” he hummed, strolling through the sea of sleeping men, careful not to step on any. He shook his head, a parent’s disproval, a disappointed Father regretting not raising his sons better. “But humans, like every other creations, no matter how beautiful, are flawed. Money, oh money… why are you, my children so greedy, so trustful to anyone who offers you a coin….”

“Grzhmchr-“ was the only sound leaving the other man’s throat as he fell to his knees, fear flashing in his eyes along with more and more confusion.

“What can I say. Nobody’s perfect. And strings of fate are funny things when played right… they can orchestrate a lovely sound,” the dark-haired man mused, turning to face his former partner fully. “Have a good day, Director Pierce. The Avengers should find you here at their next mission.”

With the last words spoken, Director Pierce’s grip on his own throat eased and his body fell limp to the ground. The other man smiled when he saw his chest rise and fall periodically, assured none of these men were actually dead. That wasn’t the plan, after all. They needed to face a different kind of justice.

He glanced at the electric chair then and the man lying there, breathing shallow, heart-rate alarmingly low for anyone but him and one more person whose cells had been modified to endure almost anything… even an explosion despite running straight into it.

“Ah, such troubled soul…” the powerful man sighed longingly, his face twisting with sympathy no one had provided to the prisoner not only of war, but also his own body. He walked to him slowly, a healing hand hovering over the man’s forehead. “You lived through more than you should have, my friend. You shall start your healing.”

The soft light shone above the pale skin, gently sweeping in, illuminating the veins running over the surface, disappearing in the messy hairline. The lying man blinked his eyes open and quickly backed into the backrest before his training kicked in.

It was just such a confusing wake-up. He felt too lightheaded, his chest less constricted than usual, missing a crushing weight. His thoughts… flowed in an unfamiliar way – a way he forgot that existed. His instincts screamed to reach for the other man’s throat to grab him and interrogate him, because he wasn’t his master, but… at the same time, he didn’t quite want to do that. No one told him to do so. He felt uneasy and bewildered, yes, but not in danger.

Still, he listened to his training and his hand shot up, only to grasp thin air. The man had already moved away, causing the freshly woken up man blink in surprise and break his bonds instinctively to follow.

But the man, who had forced him to wake up after they had sedated him, smiled at him kindly. It scared the shit out of him, not that he would admit it. Kindness scared him – he wasn’t used to it, not really, not anymore. Whenever someone showed some, it came with a price of a human life. Now, his mind flooded with images of empty eyes, accusing him of doing the wrong thing instead of a right one as he had been promised.

And this man was to blame for these overwhelming sensations, perhaps was responsible of the men on the floor too.

Were those… masters of his… unconscious? Dead? No, no dead, their chest was rising and falling. Only not conscious then. Who the hell was this man?

“Who-what-?” he choked out, glaring at the stranger. Why hadn’t he attacked him yet? Didn’t give him an order, said the words that… would they still do that to him? That… that thing when his body wasn’t quite his? Flip the switch?

The switch… it seemed to be missing now. Where the hell had it gone?

“Sergeant Barnes, welcome back.”

“How- what did you-- who are you?” Barnes finally sat up straight, his head swimming unpleasantly. He overcame it and forced himself to stand.

Holy shit, the world was spinning. Also, it wasn’t any making sense, sending one confusing signal after another. Barnes’ mind was a mess. He remembered this was his name, even though lately he had been called that name rather mockingly, more used to being a soldat.

The only other conscious man held out his hand as if in a comforting gesture.

“Easy. I’m not here to hurt you. But unless you want to be found by the Avengers, by heroes who include your best friend, you better go find your peace and meet them when you’re ready.”

Forget about the world not making sense. Now it went entirely crazy.

Best friend. Steve. Could this man talk about Steve? Avengers? Who the hell were the Avengers? So many images flickered through his head, but it didn’t include any… Avengers. Images of the past, tens of years ago, clear and sharp as they shouldn’t be, an angry tiny blond swaying his fists and wishing to take on the world and then suddenly growing several inches, and all of that mingled with fragments of memories not quite his and yet his only. What year was it anyway?

He grasped on the only thing that seemed to comfort him, ground him, the only thing he was sure of.

“My best friend? It’s… is Steve still alive? It’s been about seventy years-“ Right? “-on and off— how do I know that? Shit, what did I do?”

The empty eyes staring at him. Oh god, the empty eyes... life vanishing under his hands – a flesh one and a metal one – hands crimson with blood…

His breathing picked up, his head pounding with an ache unknown and the other man grimaced again at the agony he saw. He didn’t think he should interfere more though – Barnes needed to deal with this on his own terms.

“Calm down, James. None of that was your fault and until you accept that, you’d better off without them. The Avengers,” he explained, but the soldier would have none of it, the horrifying images, feeling so disgustingly wrong as his little soul had been locked in a mind of a dull servant, crying when taking a life.

“I… the things I did, oh my god-”

“You are not to blame for what they forced you to do. I could make you forget, but that would only complicate things,” the bearded man thought out loud, only brining more chaos with his words. He tried his best to sound soothing. “Try to forgive yourself and when the time is right… you’ll see your friend again.”

“He might be dead by then!” Barnes blurted out, suddenly overtaken by panic. Steve was alive. If this man was right and Steve was alive – how did he know that, who was he, how- Steve. That little punk letting the army experiment on him only to- where was he, how was he, what- “He’s like… what year it is exactly?”

“2013,” came the resigned reply.

“He’s ninety-five. Ninety-five! If he’s still l alive, I have to see him!”

The calmer man held out his hand again when the soldier unmistakably headed to the exit. “He’s been met with nearly same fate, James. Do not worry about his vessel. He is well. I mean… kinda. He’s been on edge, lately.”

Barnes wavered. This man had been gentle with him, as if he wanted to help. He knew way too many things, probably not lying so far. It was all kinds of fishy.

“Alright, I’m gonna ask again. Who are you?” the soldier demanded, eyes narrowed.

He didn’t feel the need to actually attack the man and he didn’t know why and he was afraid and confused and everything hurt, his arm felt heavy despite the muscles adapting ages ago and he had to see Steve if he was still freaking alive and- but after everything he had done--

“You’re not asking the right questions. Go, James. Find your place in the world again and learn about what happened to your friend,” the man advised again patiently. He beckoned to the men on the floor; instinctively, Bucky knew they were bad. Rotten even, and not just because he could suddenly see through all their lies. How, by the way? “Leave these men for the Avengers to find. They are not your problem, I’ll take care of them. You’re free now.”

Bucky Barnes looked around, not assured. His heart was racing, almost as fast as his mind. He had messed up the world, hadn’t he? The least he could so was to deliver these men to… what, police? Justice?

“But-“ he started up defensively, but out of blue, he found himself in a dark alley – and the man was still facing him.

What the fuck got him here and was this man some sort of a… was magic a thing? This couldn’t be result of some serum, right?

“You-“

“Go,” the man asked of him kindly, adding a smile that looked even goofy, in a stark contrast to his serious eyes. “What you saw, that’s how the justice will find them.”

Was this guy a friggin’ mind-reader too?!

“What the hell?!” Bucky just choked out, frantically scanning his surroundings.

Where was he anyway? The noise of today’s world was hurting his ears. What was he supposed to do? He only knew mission for the past decades, his will not even his own, how was he supposed to proceed?

Finding peace as the man had told him wasn’t exactly a precise order – and yet it was, the most difficult order he could remember receiving.

“Goodbye,” said the man for a good measure, walking away and leaving the poor soldier dumbstruck in a foreign city, in a foreign life.

Barnes stared after him, unable to say a word, unable to move a single muscle. Then, before disappearing among the people roaming the streets in what could be a very late hour, the mysterious powerful man glanced over his shoulder with a last smile and whispered barely audible – not for supersoldier’s ears though.

“Oh, and Bucky? Name’s Chuck.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Part 7

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

Alternative chapter title – Let’s Make Things a Bit Messier ;) If you didn’t watch Supernatural, Chuck is… Chuck is a powerful being and you might have figured out who exactly… yes, SPN went there.

One more surprise appearance in the next chapter ;)

Thank you for reading! 

[littlesliceofmarvel]

Faded Memories | Pt. 2

Request/Synopsis: Reader is dating Steve Rogers, and one day something goes wrong on a mission and Steve believes she died, but she was taken in by Hydra, wiped and experimented on. Eventually, Thor saves her and the two become close as he helps her remember her life, and Steve finds out she’s alive.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of death

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Thor x Reader

A/N: Yikes, so I am back from vacation folks! And back to posting! Woohoo! I missed you all, and I hope you’re ready for more writing! A small warning, the italics weren’t really working so part of the section that’s supposed to be in italics isn’t. Oh well. As always, gif isn’t mine and my inbox is always open! Much love, enjoy! xx

-

To say that Y/N was having a hard time coming to terms with being around the team was an understatement. They remembered everything about her, but she didn’t. She knew they pitied her, felt bad for her, and she couldn’t understand why she was cursed with this. She had been staying at the compound for three days alongside Thor, who was the only person she felt comfortable around.

She talked to the team a little bit more than when she had arrived, no longer feeling threatened by their presence. She was weirdly thankful that Bucky had been through the same experience, being able to listen to what he had to say about finding out who you used to be and how to handle having your identity stroller from you without you knowing. He told her that her fear and vulnerability was to be expected, that this was something that was going to take time, and she was grateful for him.

She didn’t trust Stark enough to use his technology, nor did she trust Wanda to dig through her mind, but she was finding herself more open to ideas than she would have been a few weeks ago. She wanted to know about her past, she wanted to understand why she felt a certain way about Steve, or why Bruce’s anger sent the team into a frenzy, or even why Natasha and Clint seemed to know so much about each other that they didn’t share with anyone. She was observant, maybe even more so than before, and she didn’t know why. All the little things that she knew she had known, she had lost in a second.

“Y/N, you know, staring out of windows at night usually means you’re contemplating something,” Thor placed a hand on the small of her back, installing himself next to her while she kept her gaze locked on the distant flickering lights of Manhattan.

“I’m not,” she shrugged, not facing him. Thor could tell her mind was swirling at a million miles an hour, endless ideas passing through that brain of hers. But, he knew she was closed off about her thoughts, and didn’t pester her about it, much to her gratitude

“You should really be sleeping,” he said with a small grin, eyes lingering over the small pout on Y/N’s face. Her eyes lacked their bright shine as she looked over the distance city.

She nodded, “I know. I just feel awful about everything.”

Thor nodded, turning to look over the city himself, “Wanna talk about it?”

She shook her head, giving him a forced smile, “No I’m going to go to bed.” He didn’t say anything else before she hopped off the window sill and made her way towards the room that was given to her. She was thankful for the Avengers’ hospitality, but she didn’t feel like she deserved it after what she put them through. She can’t imagine what they must be feeling, having their friend practically come back from the dead without a trace of memory.

Y/N opened the door to her room, shutting it and locking it behind her and making her way to the bathroom. She looked over herself in the mirror. Her hair lacked its usual bounce, the ends looking quite damaged. Scars lightly lined her jaw and down her neck. She ran her fingers over them, flashbacks of her time with Hydra running through her mind before she shook her head, not wanting to be thrown back there.

Within minutes, she was sound asleep on her mattress, dreams filled with screams and blood, the faceless bodies of the people she killed haunting her thoughts for the night.

The next morning, Y/N hopped out of bed at 5:30. It was programmed within her to wake up at the crack of dawn and prepare for the day. Hydra had programmed her like an alarm clock, making sure that there were no delays in their plans.

She sat up in bed and squinted her eyes to the doorway, a small slip of white paper underneath it. She got out of bed slowly, the cold air from her room coming as a bit of a shock, sending goosebumps to crawl up her skin. She picked up the small piece of paper and opened it up.

Out on a mission. Be back in two days. Make yourself at home. Stark, Barnes and Romanoff are still at the compound.

Thor

Y/N groaned, letting the small piece of paper flutter down on her mattress. The thought of having to go two days without Thor when she got here three days ago made her almost nauseous, not being totally comfortable around the rest of the team to spend two full days socializing with them just yet. She trusted Barnes, their shared experience being something she could base his character off of, but she had not gotten the chance to feel comfortable around Natasha and Stark just yet.

She threw on some clothes and made her way towards the kitchen, the sound of Tony on the phone leading the way there. When she walked in, he turned his attention to her and gave her a warm smile before turning back to his conversation.

She noticed a small plate with bacon, eggs, and fruits next to another piece of paper with her name on it.

Y/N,

Made you breakfast. Be back in 2 days.

Steve

She smiled, heart fluttering slightly. The past three days, Steve had been leaving her little things here and there. Food, books, things that would help jog her memory. She knew he was trying to help, and Steve wanted nothing more than to have her back in his arms and to protect her forever.

It killed him to see the way Thor’s presence brought her the most comfort, but he understood. When he found out Bucky was alive, he went through the same thing. If anything, he found it so much harder watching the love of his life go through the same thing.

Y/N folded the little note neatly and placed it in her pocket, starting to munch on the food placed in front of her. Tony had left the room, his conversation getting slightly heated, and considering it was nearly 6am, Bucky and Natasha were probably still sound asleep.

The breakfast filled her up, making her too full to really do anything afterwards, so she found herself walking towards the living room, a small book sitting on the coffee table, an early edition copy of The Hobbit. It was the one Steve gave her yesterday. She didn’t know why he gave her this particular book, but she didn’t question it.

She found herself occupied with the book for the next two hours, ears perking every time a noise was heard from somewhere down the hallway. Y/N didn’t want to admit it to anyone, fearing that Hydra was going to use this to their advantage, but she was becoming much calmer around people she didn’t know. She didn’t find herself freezing in her steps when a Shield agent would walk into the room, nor did she find herself aiming a gun to Tony’s face when he approached her anymore.

With a quiet tip-toe, she wandered over to the windows over looking the rest of the compound. Men and women running around outdoors with walkie-talkies and briefcases, making sure everything was where it was supposed to be to keep the Avengers running. The hustle and bustle down below calmed her down, making her feel like she was in the middle of a chaotic little family.

“Good morning,” a gruff voice startled Y/N, causing her to jump back slightly and hold her arms across her chest in defence.

“Bucky,” Y/N breathed out, relaxing when her eyes landed on the brunet, “You scared me.”

Bucky’s eyes widened, “Sorry, didn’t mean to.” He was up earlier than he had been in the past couple of days, but Y/N brushed it off as the fact that no one else was here so he was enjoying the silence of the compound. What she didn’t know was that Bucky had sworn to Steve that he was going to keep an eye on Y/N, make sure she was doing okay while he was gone.

Bucky silently made his way to the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee while Y/N sat back down on the couch, continuing her book. Within another hour, Natasha and Tony had joined them in the kitchen, chatting away and watching the news to start their days.

The three of them went on doing what they usually did during the day - training, gathering intel, conducting experiments on suits and weapons - and Y/N wanted in on it. Thor would usually tell her to stay out of the lab, but curiosity and a feeling of almost rebelliousness got the best of her. Getting off the couch, she slowly made her way towards Stark’s lab. The sound of typing drew her attention to the corner of the room, where Tony padded away at a computer.

“Um, Tony?” Y/N’s quiet voice went unnoticed by him, so she tried again, louder, “Tony?”

Tony’s eyes snapped up from his screen and widened when he saw Y/N standing in the corner of his lab. 

“Hey,” he wasn’t really sure what to say to her, not used to her initiating conversation.

“Can I, uh, look around, or something?” Y/N seemed unsure of what she wanted to do, but with the tiny possibility of something in here helping her re-gain her memory in her mind, she was willing step out of her comfort zone. Tony nodded, not taking his eyes off of her as she walked around the room, captivated by the large holograms and the shiny equipment.

“You know-” Tony started, unsure of how she was going to react, “You used to help out in here a lot.”

Y/N took her attention away from a fascinating piece of technology and turned to Tony, an unreadable expression on her features, edging him to go on.

Tony stood up slowly, “Yeah, uh, you always had this fascination for technology, I’m not really sure where you got it from, but you did. You’d stay in here with Banner and I and pull all nighters sometimes.”

Y/N’s head was forcing itself to connect the dots, to dig through the deepest parts of her brain to find the memories that Tony was talking about, but she couldn’t.

“You don’t remember, huh?” Tony asked sadly, nodding his head and looking to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N replied, an overwhelming sense of guilt pouring through her body, “I want to. But I can’t.”

Before Tony could respond, Y/N ran out of the room, her entire body shaking with the thousands of emotions threatening to pour out of her. She couldn’t do this. Everyone else knew her, but she didn’t even know herself. With tears streaming down her face, she locked herself into her room, letting her body fall against the door. She didn’t understand why this was happening to her, what she deserved to have her memories wiped and be turned into a villain. The night that it happened, she had sacrificed herself to save the team, was that not a good deed? Why did she get punished? Why was turned into this broken, violent, dangerous person when all she had wanted was to save the people she used to call family?

She let the tears flow free, hugging her knees to her chest as the sobs wracked through her body, numbing her to the vicious thoughts swimming through her mind.

She sat there for what felt like hours before she used all the strength in her to lift herself off the ground and collapse in her bed, falling asleep within minutes.

-

For the remaining two days that the mission went on for, Y/N kept herself locked in her room, ignoring the knocks brought on by Tony, Bucky and even Natasha. They brought her food, tried to coax her into coming out of her hiding, and even tried to crack small jokes, but Y/N wasn’t having any of it. She went from being in fear of the team, to being completely guilt-ridden, and although the team was willing to slowly ease her into her life again, Y/N wanted nothing more than to be there already.

“Y/N?” Thor’s familiar voice knocked on her door on the third morning, snapping Y/N out of her day-dreams.

She walked towards the door slowly, “Thor, you’re back.”

She opened the door slowly, coming face to face with the god himself, who smelled like he hadn’t showered in months. She grimaced, leaning against the doorframe as he smiled down at her.

“Why’ve you been locked up in here?” He asked softly.

She sighed, “Thor - you don’t know what it’s like. They know me. I don’t even know me. It’s too much.” She was sick of the pitied looks and the hushed conversations when she walked in the room, she wanted things to be normal again.

He nodded understandingly, leading her into her room and closing the door behind him, “Listen, I know it’s tough, but can you accept help? Wanda’s offered to do it, you-”

“I can’t lay that burden on her,” Y/N snapped, looking away from Thor as she sat on the edge of her bed. Wanda had offered before, and had been turned down all three times. Y/N knew that it had helped Bucky clear his mind of his demons, but she didn’t feel confident enough to let someone lurk through her mind.

“It’s not a burden, Y/N, why would it be?” He hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t tense up, too occupied with what Thor was telling her.

“I’ve done things, Thor,” she spoke quietly, “They made me do really, really bad things. I know these people were like my family and I don’t know if I’m ready for them to know what I’ve done.” 

He nodded, taking his hand away from her as he let her words sink in, but before any of them could speak again, another knock came from the door. Thor, noticing that Y/N made no effort to stand up, walked over and greeted Steve who stood on the other side.

“Rogers, um, can we talk?” Thor mumbled, hoping Y/N didn’t hear.

 “If you’re going to talk about me, do it with me in the room,” Y/N snapped, slightly fed up as she looked over to the two blond men standing in her doorway. 

Steve swallowed awkwardly, nodding and making his way in, “Y/N, how are you feeling?” 

She looked into his blue eyes, already feeling slightly calmer than before for some reason, “I’m - well, you know. How was the mission?” She diverted the subject, her attention now focused on Steve, Thor watching from the foot of the bed.

“Successful,” Steve nodded, smiling lightly, “We saved everyone. This one kid even came up to me afterwards and told me he has a poster of me in his room.” Y/N could feel herself smiling when Steve did, almost as if it were instinctive. She didn’t know why, but she let herself giggle slightly at his comment.

“That’s creepy,” Steve snapped his head up at her laughter, almost too shocked to respond, “How many people do you think have posters of you that you don’t know about?”

“Um-” Steve’s heart fluttered at her attempt at humour for the first time in a long time, “Well, I-” He wasn’t really sure what to reply, so he looked over to Thor before looking back at Y/N, “We thought up of a couple ways you could get your memory back.”

Y/N dropped her small smile, “Don’t say Wanda.”

“Y/N,” Steve sighed, approaching her slightly, and to his surprise, she didn’t back away, “She helped Bucky tremendously when he was going through the same thing.”

Y/N flopped herself down on the bed, “Steve, it’s more than just that - I don’t want her seeing what I’ve done-”

“We won’t discuss it, I promise,” Thor spoke up once again, slightly persistent. Y/N sighed, looking up at the ceiling and debating her options.

On one hand, Wanda could go through her mind and break down the barrier between the violent version of herself that Hydra made, and the one who called herself an Avenger. She could go back to normal, remember her relationships with everyone and connect back with her old life, which is what she wanted.

But, on the other hand, would these peoples still accept her? Would she still be able to call herself a hero once they found out what she had done? How she took the lives of people so easily, not even hesitating in the slightest? How she was willing to defend Hydra to no ends, allowing herself to be wiped and tortured to honour their name? Would they still want her?

She closed her eyes, processing this. On one way of seeing it, they had found out about Bucky’s past, that was way worse than hers, and let him stay here with them. They even let him become an Avenger. So, why should she be any different?

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

-

The entire team sat around Tony’s lab, watching with extreme intensity as Y/N was seated on a chair near the center of the room, Wanda running everything over with her one more time.

“Your head is going to want to force me out,” Wanda repeated, “Don’t let it. Let me move around, see everything, don’t kick me out.”

Y/N nodded, her fingers shaking as she tried to steady them by squeezing her hands together, “Okay. I won’t kick you out.”

The scarlet witch nodded, giving her a thumbs up. Y/N closed her eyes, letting her body relax in her chair before Wanda worked her magic. The team looked on anxiously as the red sparks from Wanda’s fingers started surrounding Y/N’s skull.

Y/N felt it - the immediate jolt of electricity going through her head, the feeling of something swimming around inside your brain. Everything inside of her was screaming to kick it out, to repel whatever ‘evil’ was searching her mind, but she forced it back. All she could see was glowing red light as she screwed her eyes shut, digging her nails into her thighs. It felt like it did when Hydra had brainwashed her, as if her thoughts were leaving her body and becoming someone else’s.

Steve slipped his hand onto her thigh and into hers, interlocking their fingers, his heart shattering at the distressed look on her face. She didn’t hesitate to squeeze his hand in discomfort, glad to be holding onto something that wasn’t her thigh.

Y/N let out a small groan as if something was pushing up against the back of her skull from the inside.

“Sorry,” Wanda mumbled, “My bad.” 

The red lights continued soaring around her brain, her memories. Wanda forced Y/N to see what she was seeing, making visions appear before Y/N’s closed eyes. 

A man. He was dead. Blood was oozing out of a wound on his forehead and another one on his left shoulder. A little girl came running up to him, crying, asking him to wake up. Y/N could see herself standing behind the little girl, a gun in her hand as she looked down at the dead man, no emotions in her eyes. She wanted to scream, to be heard, but all she could do was watch herself with anger, this memory almost clear as day as she remembered what Hydra made her do. As she watched herself retreat, a flash of red light came over her like a tidal wave, and the dead man and his daughter were gone.

Y/N felt like she was falling, and before she could try to slow herself down, she came to an abrupt stop in the middle of Tony’s lab. She could see herself, a couple years younger than she was now, standing in a lab coat, chatting away with Tony and Bruce about something she couldn’t hear. She wanted to approach them, to be a part of what was going on, to ask them where she was, but she was glued to the floor, watching herself converse and laugh with the two geniuses, looking at peace.

Once again, the flash of red light washed over and the vision faded, being replaced by one of herself sitting against the window of Stark tower with Steve, the two leaning into each other calmly, as if their comfort was found within each other. 

“I love you,” Steve mumbled, and Y/N watched as the vision of herself smiled up at him, repeating the words.

“Steve?” Y/N found herself mumbling, looking at the two of them as they shared a kiss, the sparkling lights of New York City blending into another wave of red light.

This time, they weren’t replaced by a calm vision. Y/N could see herself cornered in a cement room, inaudibly yelling at someone as her eyes fell upon a large bomb strapped to the back of the door. This was when she was believed to be dead. Y/N could see herself crying, huddling into the corner as far away from the door as she could get. She could feel herself calling out to herself, watching as her figure was overcome by a blast of white light, and before she knew it, another red wave came over her.

Y/N snapped up off of her chair, gasping as Wanda stumbled backwards, fingers losing their red spark as she leaned against the wall. Y/N let go of Steve’s hand, shoving herself against the back, ready to scream.

“Y/N?” Tony stood up, looking down at the girl in worry as Vision rushed to Wanda’s aid.

“What the fuck was that?” Y/N snapped, standing up herself.

“Memories,” Wanda sounded out of breath, “Those were some of your memories.”

Y/N was silent, the memories almost as clear as day now. She sat back down, not trusting how shaky her legs were as she turned to face Steve, not even sure what to tell him as she replayed the memory of the two of them telling each other they loved one another. It was as if he could tell what she was thinking and made it an effort to avoid all eye contact.

“Let’s do it again,” Y/N turned to Wanda with determination on her face, “I want to remember more.”

Wanda sighed, placing her hands on her hips, “It drains me, you know? I can only do it in small doses. Another day.”

Bucky spoke up, “Wanda’s right. Another day. You need to do it in small amounts, it’s overwhelming to get your memories back in one shot. It took almost a month of doing it every day for me.”

Sighing in defeat, Y/N closed her eyes once again, letting her emotions fill her mind as she looked over her memories once more, and that’s when it became clear as daylight.

She loved Steve.

[marvelxfam]

Every Little Voice✨

Part 5 (The Final Part!!)

Bucky x Reader

requested by: @thunderstormsandsugar

summary: you are a test subject for HYDRA. When you are sent on a mission as nothing more than a murderer, someone shows you the light.

warnings: mentions of weapons, violence, blood, killing, and cursing

authors note: this gif really has nothing to do with the story but the way he yeeted the motorcycle just makes me insane okay

IM PROUD OF THE ENDING YEAHHHH

Alexander Pierce was alive.

And he was coming for you and Bucky.

You blinked rapidly, your mouth struggling to form words. You leaned against one of the tables for support, finding it hard to look Bucky in the eye.

You thought you were a fool for ever believing you could fully escape HYDRA, knowing they would eventually come. You had said it yourself two years ago, crying when you first met Steve.

You weren’t going to cry anymore.

Even with the pain, the distant and dull thud of your heartbeat flooded your ears when you had to sit in those chairs and have your memory wiped, remembering every hit in the face when you were inches away from remembering something they didn’t want you to remember. Even when they forced you to kill and cause terror, and even when they tore Bucky away from you, you survived. You were done being afraid, because now, you had found yourself again.

And you were done hiding it.

Bucky had finally managed a normal breathing habit again as he watched you, lost in a far off land, surrounded in memories. Even in a state of distress, it amazed him how calm you were. That was the thing about you. Through it all these past two years, you had a quiet, collected strength that made you beautiful. And it wowed Bucky everyday, causing him to have to remember how to act when you walked in a room.

“If Pierce wants us, then that’s what we’ll give him.” You said firmly, ripping off your lab coat and dashing into another room. Bucky followed, watching as you grabbed a large loaded gun and stepped back into a normal pace alongside him.

“Are you sure you really want to do this, Y/N?” Bucky asked uneasily. It had been a while since you were in combat, and he knew how fighting was the last thing you wanted to do, even though you were more than capable of fighting off a couple guys at once.

You could sense the doubt in Bucky’s tone, knowing he had your best interest and didn’t want to see you fall after all of the work you had done trying to repair your life these past few years. A flicker of nervousness pinched at your chest, but you pressed your lips together firmly and sauntered off without Bucky.

“After all we had to deal with with HYDRA, we’re still here. And that’s for a reason. And if Pierce is here, waiting, then maybe this is the reason we made it through it all. So I’d really like to take him down, if you don’t mind.” You called out, hearing Bucky run to catch up with you. He chuckled, his heart soaring with how independent and daring you could be at times.

As the two of you made your way to the scene, you could already hear the gunshots and grunting of people as you made your way out of the compound and into the open. Steve had said they were planning a city’s fall, but really, you all knew they just wanted to end the Avengers. Before you could reach the outside, the two of you were running down one of the long, dimly lit corridors that apparently had shut down in emergency protocol.

Both of your guys’ footsteps came to a halt, looking for a way out with hardly enough light to see a path. It was like all of the cliche horror movies you had watched with Bucky on nights when the two of you got bored. You grumbled, silently cursing Tony for building this hallway with a dead end.

Then, the men poured into the area, about twenty HYDRA agents filing in behind their infamous leader, Alexander Pierce. The way he strode into the hall, a head held high and the sick scent of his cologne twisting your stomach into knots like it always had when he came to talk to you. Bucky hadn’t seen the man in years, but his jaw still clenched with hatred as he held a tighter grip on his gun. He shook for a second, trying to compose himself as he faced his biggest nightmare.

“Well, if it isn’t my soldiers,” Pierce spoke with a sickly sweet tone, faking the kindness with every word. “I’m glad you two met. You guys were quite the pair back then, and you’re just making this easier.” He shrugged carelessly. The soldiers behind him were armed. Unusually, not with guns, but other small knives.

The two of you eyed Pierce with intensity, specifically you staring at him boldly. He came closer, pausing between steps to observe you both.

“Back when The Winter Soldier failed his mission, I sent you, Soldier, to do what he couldn’t. You were stronger and had more abilities than I could count. You were everything HYDRA needed, a full body when we thought we only had the fist.” Pierce formed his own hand into one. “Then we hear news that you went off the grid as well. But you-you failed!” Pierce’s voice rose, pointing a finger at you.

“You failed your mission after everything we put inside of you, everything we gave you to make you who you are and you threw it all away for this. For him,” Alexander acknowledged Bucky, the word “him” being said with disgust. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Did he think you should’ve been thankful? Grateful for what they did to you? You shook your head subtly.

“So should I be giving you a thank-you card right now? Is that what you want after everything you did to Bucky and me?” You asked incredulously. You had never talked to Pierce before out of fear, but you couldn’t help the words that spilled out.

“You ripped me away from everyone and everything I knew, you slapped me and forced me to kill others, and made me forget what it was like to be considered a person. So why on earth should I be grateful for the crap you made us go through?” You screamed, the burdens that your body carried finally being lifted away. You had found your voice, and it wouldn’t be silenced any longer. Pierce was now standing just a foot away from the both of you, his eyes giving off a dangerous glint.

“You had a chance to change the world, to bring order into chaos where populations would thrive-“

You couldn’t stop yourself as you pulled out a punch sending Pierce falling to the ground.

“Damn.” Bucky whispered, wondering how you could still amaze him with a new feature of yourself everyday, even at a time like this.

Pierce covered his face as he struggled to find balance, eventually pulling himself up. He was steaming, the anger boiling to the brim. Alexander looked back and forth between you and his twenty soldiers, still clutching his nose to try to stop the blood. You could sense the fight that was brewing and prepared yourself, knowing what you had to do as Pierce walked to the back line of his troops.

“I love you,” you breathed out. Bucky’s stormy blue eyes widened with surprise, even though he wasn’t looking at you. “I know that this is really bad timing, but I just wanted to say that in case something happened-“

You cut yourself off when you felt Bucky reach for your hand and give it a gentle squeeze, eventually turning into a tight grip. Bucky smiled to himself, knowing he had to make it out of this fight for the ending he always wanted but never thought he could have.

“I was going to offer you a peace treaty, but now I’m just...mad.” Pierce shouted from the back. You slid your hand from Bucky’s and offered your gun to him as Bucky gave you a questionable look when he took the weapon from your hands.

“You’re going to need it.” You mouthed, extending your arms as you allowed the golden light to fill the space between, strength and energy coursing through you. Just like Wanda, you thought. Except, she was still better at it.

“Okay I’ve had enough of this. Kill them.” Pierce ordered.

And with that, the fight began.

The soldiers came charging as you did your best to fend them off, throwing orbs of light and moving small groups or individuals and throwing them out a glass window on the other far end of the hall, or crashing them into the ceiling. When a soldier got two close to Bucky you multitasked, throwing and creating a shield for Bucky. It didn’t take long for the number of troops to dwindle, with six of the best being the only ones left.

They knew every tactic and somehow knew your weak spots, punching until you stumbled back from such a hard force. Even though you couldn’t catch your breath and the familiar taste of blood withdrew your focus, you remained strong in the fight. Head butting one of the soldiers and using him to kick the other one, a move you learned from Natasha, they eventually collapsed on the ground.

Bucky gave you a quick glance, a look that said he could handle the other four as you raced over to Pierce. He had a pistol aimed and pulled the trigger. You caught the bullet inches before it came into contact with your shoulder using your powers and threw it back, missing Pierce. More shots fired but none of them hit a target as you managed to pry the gun from his hands, throwing it as far as you could. Then, Pierce was throwing his own punches, dodging with a speed you didn’t know he had. There were a few times you thought he had you down, but you always found a way out with a quick move. This was too easy, you said to yourself, turning around for just a second to check on Bucky. Why was this so-

An agonizing pain slashed through your right leg, causing you to fall to the ground. You clutched your calf, watching the blood slowly trickle to the ground. You tried to pull yourself up, but Pierce was fast, grazing your side near your rib cage with his knife. You grit your teeth, refusing to make a sound. The blistering pain that rang through your body made the world spin and voices became foggy. A sharp pain shot through your body when Pierce pinned you to the ground, his face inches from yours. You tried to ignore the intense throbbing by looking Pierce in the eyes, telling him you were not going to give up.

“You thought you could end me?” He said through gritted teeth of his own. His hot breath made your skin crawl, pulling your face away from the close contact. “You could’ve brought life to a new government. We could’ve ruled the world without all of the threats if you had been smart enough to listen. The only end you’re bringing is yours. You won’t kill me,” Pierce said slowly, the edge of his knife cutting into your chin.

The sounds of fighting in the background were nonexistent. A smirk played on your face as Pierce’s eyes filled with confusion. “You’re right. I won’t kill you.” You said casually.

“He will.”

You saved your last bit of strength and moved out of the way as the gunshots echoed in the dark hall. Bucky had been waiting for your signal, although it was unplanned.

“I’ve been waiting to do that.”

Bucky tossed his gun to the side and ran over to you, helping you get up as you struggled to walk. He spoke into his coms, asking for help in the hall. “We’re going to need a clean-up crew too,” Bucky said, his eyes drifting to the unconscious bodies on the floor. When he saw the gash in your leg and side, Bucky didn’t speak as he carried you out, rushing you to the lab where Bruce paced back and forth with anxiety etched into his features. His eyes fell on the both of you and immediately put you on a bed, readying his supplies for your wounds. Bruce worked quickly, cleaning and stitching as he talked to you softly, a relieved smile glowing on his face.

After Bruce was done, he let the two of you have the room to yourselves as he went out to look for the others. You motioned for Bucky to come sit next to you on the bed since he kept his distance while Bruce had been working and nervously twisted his hair. He sat at your bedside and took your hand in his, putting another hand over yours.

“So...you love me?” Bucky’s eyes sparkled with joy, a tearful smile widening on his lips. You grinned playfully. “I only said that in the moment because I thought we were going to die.”

Bucky’s face fell and he pulled his hand away. A cloud formed over his features as he cleared his throat. “Oh.”

A laugh burst out of you, rocking your entire body. Bucky stared at you in shock, laughing uneasily.

“Of course I meant it, Bucky! I really do love you,” you admitted, reaching out to put a gentle hand to his face. He warmed up under your touch.

The both of you had had voices in your minds, good, bad, and ugly ones. You had ignored the voice that said you had feelings, a love for each other that outweighed the torture and forgetful states. A voice inside both of you had brought you together, and every little voice gave the two of you perseverance to hold on. Together.

“Well, Y/N, I love you too.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

YAYYYYY THE END!!

taglist: @darkphoenixrisingwrites @nerdypisces160 @littlepsychos-world @crybbysarahjane @bruisedfaye @s-trawberryv-eins @stuckyandsciencebros

[hangjie]

whatever it takes. [ peter parker ]

summary: it has been five years since thanos wiped out half of the population and since the avengers killed thanos. so, what’s left for you?

warnings: ENDGAME SPOILERS!!! a lot of crying and a bit of swearing

word count: 3,057

author's note: i deleted the original version of this bc i thought it was absolute crap ;( i watched endgame for the second time, so my mind is refreshed on what happened and what some of the lines are. this is mostly the same tho! it's just rewritten and i added some parts. 

in this one, reader is still skilled in combat, but she mostly uses guns during missions and let's just say, reader is always wearing a suit ;))

(okay but my dumbass self literally forgot scott i aM SO DISAPPOINTED IN MYSELF)

─── • ° *｡✧ ───

snap.

half of the population was wiped out.

most of my friends and family are gone.

he’s gone.

it has been five years since thanos snapped his fingers and turned half of the population to dust and five years since we killed him in hopes of getting our loved ones back, but to no avail.

let’s say, thor went for the head this time.

the punching bag swings back and forth as i punch it with all my strength. i feel the sweat rolling down my temples and dripping down to the ground. i feel my hands ache and my body screaming for me to take a break, but i still continue to swing punches.

“(y/n)? mr. stark? i don’t feel so good.” peter says with fear evident in his voice.

he was so confused and so scared.

he literally was dying, but he didn’t realize until the very last moment and i didn’t do anything about it.

a punch after another, i punch the punching bag faster, making it swing further and further back as my heart starts to pound inside my chest. 

tony runs over to us and peter clings on to us tightly. “i don’t wanna go. please. i don’t wanna go.” he shakes his head as he shakily holds on to us. “i don’t wanna die.”

tears start to cloud my vision and i blink them away, letting them roll down my cheeks and mix with my sweat.

i cradle him in my arms, sobbing and brushing his hair comfortingly. “you’re not going anywhere, pete. you’ll be okay, i swear to God, you’re going to be okay. we’re going to be okay.”

i kick the punching bag and before i knew it, i was punching and kicking, frustrated sobs escaping my mouth and angry tears rolling down my cheeks.

peter drops to the ground, weakly and tony and i kneel beside him, each holding one of his hands shakily. he looks at each one of us with a sad smile on his face. “i’m sorry,” he softly says as he looks at tony who tries to hide his tears, but fails as he looks at the person who he considers as his son.

i picture the big purple asshole who took nearly everyone from me and i feel my blood inside my veins start to boil from the thought. i hear the metal holding the bag squeak, but i still continue, not caring if it breaks or not.

peter turns to me and says the words that i’ve been dying to hear ever since. “i love you.” i sob and kiss his knuckles with tears running down my face and some even getting on his hands. “i love you too,” i say and he smiles before he fades away like the others.

i picture the smug look on thanos’ face after he snapped his fingers and with a final punch and kick, the metal holding the bag breaks, making it throw itself on the other side of the room with a loud ‘bang!’.

i hear a low whistle and slow clap from behind me. i turn around and see the proud face of my #1 superhero slash dad, tony stark.

“wow. that was actually impressive,” he says, approaching me in slow strides. “remind me to not let you hang out with steve because you’re becoming more and more like him and less and less of me.”

i don’t reply. instead, i turn my back towards him and walk away from him to drink some water. dad sighs and i feel him walk closer to me. 

“you can always talk to me about peter, you know.”

i feel my body tense up when i hear the mention of peter. 

“dad, i’m fine,” i quietly say, teeth gritting against each other.

“i know that you want to see him and try to get him back, but–”

“dad, i said ‘i’m fine’!” i snap, finally turning towards him. he looks down at me with a surprised expression. he tries to say something, but before he could, i rush towards him and wrap my arms around his torso.

dad places his hand behind my back, rubbing it up and down in comfort while the other one softly brushes the hair on the back of my head (despite being sweaty as fuck). i press my ear against his chest, sobbing loudly as tears stain his shirt.

“i miss him, dad. i miss him so much.”

“so do i, kiddo.” i hear dad’s voice break, but he quickly hides it with a cough. he kisses the top of my head and he says, “and i know that he misses you too.” i sadly smile at the thought of the dorky smile plastered on peter’s face as he says how much he misses us.

i pull away from dad and he grabs the sides of my face, kissing my forehead before saying, “i’m always here for you, kiddo.” i chuckle. “you’re so sappy, dad.”

“i’m sappy? how about you? crying over a boy who tripped over everything.” i feel dad ruffle my hair, making me push his hand away with a groan and a smile. 

before i could walk away from him again, dad pulls me into a tight hug. i immediately melt into the arms of my father and hug him back just as tight.

“we’ll get peter back. we’ll get them all back,” he reassures, cradling my head like a baby. i sigh and nod my head, knowing that he means what he said.

“i love you, dad,” i say against his chest. “i love you 3,000 times more, kiddo.”

-----

i reload the pistol in my hand and aim it at one of the empty cans several feet away from me. i squint as i readjust my aim before pulling the trigger. the can goes flying backwards with a hole in the center. i focus my aim towards the glass bottle on my right and shoot, making it instantly breaks and sending thousand of glass shards flying in every direction.

i repeat the same actions again until i feel a tug on my shirt. i look down and see my little sister, morgan holding the end of my shirt with big puppy eyes. 

i tuck the gun away and crouch down to her height. “hey, what are you doing here?” i say. “you know you can’t go here. dad will kill me if he sees you here.”

“daddy said to check on you. he said that you were sad.” my heart swells at the innocence of my sister and the concern of my father. “or maybe you just missed me.” i tease, brushing my fingers on her sides. she squeals and tries to get away from me, but dad appears and walks towards us.

he chuckles at the scene of his two daughters in front of him. “i know that i should be mad, but my two girls are just so cute,” he says and kisses our cheeks before inviting us back inside. dad picks morgan up with one hand and he places his other hand on my back, leading us to our house. 

when we make our way towards the patio, we see a grey car parked in front of our house and uncle steve, aunt natasha, uncle scott, and uncle rhodey come out. 

we stop in our tracks and i feel dad tense up beside me.

“tony, (y/n), we need to talk.”

-----

“time travel? quantum realm? are you crazy?” dad shakes his head in disbelief. “so, you’re telling me that your plan is basically ‘back to the future’?” he scoffs when uncle scott nods his head. “it’s not going to work.”

after my uncles and aunt settle on to our patio, they start talking to us about using quantum physics as a way to get the infinity stones in the past and to get the fallen back.

“tony, the stones are in the past. we’ll time travel before thanos got them,” uncle scott says, trying hard to be patient, but it is obvious that his patience is wearing thin. “and when we have them, we’ll snap our fingers to bring everyone that turned to dust back into our reality,” aunt natasha adds.

“we’re not going to come back,” dad protests.

“but i did.”

“that’s because you got lucky!” dad snaps, making everyone speechless. 

intensity runs in the silent air, the only noise being the ripples running along the lake until dad sighs. “listen. do i want to bring everyone back? yeah. do i want what i have right now to remain the same? hell yeah.” dad slouches, placing his elbows on the top of his knees. “i cannot leave my family.”

“but what about us, tony? aren’t we your family too?” aunt natasha says and dad looks on the ground, sadly.

an awkward silence engulfs the air until the door open and closes and morgan runs out, immediately latching herself at dad.

“hey, squirt,” dad greets, picking up morgan from the ground. 

“mommy told me to come save you and (y/n).”

“well, you saved us, alright.”

dad stands up and begins to ramble on about miscellaneous things until uncle steve grabs dad’s arm, restricting dad from moving another step.

“tony, i get it. you have a wife and two kids and i’m happy for you.” uncle steve looks down at the ground, sadly before looking back up at dad with desperate eyes. “but this is your second chance.”

“i already got my second chance right here.” dad motions towards morgan and i and escapes from uncle steve’s grip.

i sit, confused on what to do. i mean, i do want to obey dad and i know that he’s doing this to keep our family safe, but i also want to at least try in bringing them back.  

i glance towards my uncles and aunt and see their defeated and desperate faces. i can see the gears turning inside their head as they scrunch their eyebrows together and think of another way to forego with their plan. i can see the tears in aunt natasha’s eyes, knowing how much the avengers means to her since we are her only family.

i feel the lump forming inside my throat as i take a deep breath. i will probably get my ass kicked for this, but it’s worth the try.

“i’m in.”

everyone’s attention turns towards me and i can feel their eyes widen and bore into my body. 

“w-what? what do you mean?” dad asks, looking more confused than everyone else in the room. 

“i’m time travelling with them, dad.” 

dad freezes and puts morgan down, whispering for her to go inside first. after morgan runs inside, dad straightens his back and crosses his arms against his chest, a stern look on his face. 

“(y/n), you are not going with them.”

“dad, stop. i can do this. i know that i can.”

“are you crazy?! no. absolutely not, young lady. you are staying home with your mom, me, and morgan. end of discussion.”

“dad, you are so selfish!” i snap. hot angry tears run down my cheeks and i aggressively wipe them away with my hand. “half of the population on this planet is gone and you’re not even going to at least help in bringing them back? how could you?” i say, heartbreak and the feeling of betrayal evident in my voice. “after everything the avengers sacrificed, you’re not going to try? i want to atleast do something good in my life and-”

“i don’t want to lose you, (y/n)!” dad grabs my shoulders, lightly shaking me as his glassy eyes lock with mine. he inhales a shaky breath and drops his head down in sadness. “you are my first born. you are one of the reasons as to why i am standing in front of you and you have such a bright future ahead of you.”

i break free from my dad’s grip and walk away, wiping away the tears from my eyes.

before i step into the house, i turn back to my dad and see his red eyes and tear-stained cheeks staring back at me. “i’m doing this for peter, dad.” i say, my lips quivering. “i’ll do whatever it takes to bring him back.” 

i turn my back towards him and step into the house, leaving him, my uncles, and aunt in utter silence.

-----

i lay in my bed, eyes glued on the ceiling as memories of peter flash into my mind, my heart breaking inside my chest.

i miss him.

i roll to my side and my eyes immediately glance at the picture of peter and i on my bedside table. i pick it up and i sadly smile when i see us dressed in our homecoming attire with our wide grins and with peter’s arms snaked around my waist.

i remember how he pulled me close and how he kept telling me how beautiful i am and how much he loves me.

peter’s eyes go as wide as platters and his jaw drops to the floor as i approach him, my dress flowing in the wind. i feel my cheeks flush when i feel his eyes look at me up and down, taking my appearance in.

he continues to stare at me when i am in front of him. it wasn’t until i adjust his collar and tie that he snapped out of his trance.

“cat got your tongue, parker?” i smirk, transferring my focus to his wrongly placed corsage. i chuckle when he tries to say something, but what only came out of his mouth were stutters.

“i-i . . . i’m n-n-not–” i kiss his cheek, making his cheeks turn bright red.

i laugh and peck his lips before peter pulls me into a passionate kiss. when we pull away, he smiles brightly at me before saying, “you’re absolutely breathtaking.”

“you’re not so bad yourself, parker.”

before he could reconnect our lips, we hear someone clearing their throat, making both of us pull away with tomato red cheeks and nervous laughter. my dad rolls his eyes and makes a gagging noise. “pepper, let’s get them out of here before a bunch of peter and (y/n) start running around the house,” i groan as mom hits his arm. “what?” he says, lifting his arms up in surrender.

my parents walk out of the room and when they were gone, peter intertwines his fingers with mine. i turn towards him and he locks his brown eyes with mine as peter lifts our intertwined hands, kissing the top of my knuckles. i feel my heart swell inside my chest and i feel it beat faster and faster each second.

“shall we go, m’lady?” peter says, in a posh accent, making me laugh. i peck him one last time before i say, “we shall, spiderman.”

i hold back a sob as tears drop on the picture frame. i hold the picture frame close to my chest and i whisper, “whatever it takes,” before i head out of my room, determined to change my dad’s mind.

when i walk in the living room, i hear mom and dad quietly talking and i approach them silently. 

right before i could say a word, my eyes glance towards the table in the middle of the room and see a model of a time space gps. my eyes turn towards the ‘model successful’ text above and my jaw drops to the floor.

it’s going to work.

“(y/n), what are you doing up?” i hear my mom ask. i turn my attention towards them and i point towards the time space gps model with my mouth still agape in shock. “it’s really going to work?” i ask still in disbelief even though the answer is literally right in front of me.

dad sighs and slowly nods his head.

he walks closer to me and kisses my forehead, bringing me into a hug. “now we know where you got your stubbornness from.”

-----

to make the long story short, we time traveled back in time to get the infinity stones before thanos got his hands on it. it took several tries, but we eventually got a hold of the stones.

after we got back, we discovered that aunt natasha lost her battle and unfortunately passed away. despite my dad’s arguments of letting me go back home, in fear of the same thing happening to me, i manage to convince him to let me stay.

we were trying out luck with the stones by letting uncle bruce (who now prefers being physically hulk) wear the infinity gauntlet my dad made and snap his fingers.

when the gauntlet is wrapped around his arm, uncle bruce lets out a painful shout, making my blood run cold in anxiety and fear. “turn it off! turn it off!” uncle thor says, scared for his dear friend, but uncle bruce manages to lift his arm up and with one last shout, he snaps his fingers and a bright light erupts in the room.

as the light fades away, i hear a loud thump! and i turn my head towards that direction and see uncle bruce with the arm where the gauntlet was placed burnt. everyone crowds around him, trying to comfort him and asking if it worked. as dad tries to treat his arm, the sound of a phone vibrating echoes throughout the room.

everyone’s breath hitches in their throat as uncle clint slowly approaches his phone. when he sees the caller id, he immediately answers the call with teary eyes and a shaky voice.

“hey guys. i think it worked.”

right before anyone could say another word, i feel myself being thrown back as the ceilings of the headquarters begin to crash down accompanied with explosions and shouts. 

i feel my body being thrown on concrete several times before i feel my body collide with a wet surface. i groan out loud and clutch my sides, feeling my body ache and slowly bruise all over. i try to get back up, but i fall back down.

before i could try to get back up, i feel my body numb and my eyelids start to become heavy. everything starts to blur as my eyes slowly start to close, the darkness engulfing me.

MASTERLIST

[mandowh0re]

Trust

Part 10

Requested: No

Fandom: Avengers MCU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Female Reader

Summary: Reader meets Bucky while on a mission with Steve and Natasha to bring him back to the States and makes an unexpected connection with him.

Comments: I’m so sorry this took so long!! I have two or three chapters left after this one. Thank you so much for reading!!

Word Count: 2159

Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10

Happy reading!! 

Warnings: Swearing

Comments: If things don’t make sense, you have an idea for the story, or a request of your own, please don’t hesitate to message me!

Sounds came back first.

You couldn’t tell what they were, but you knew you were hearing voices.

Then motor functions came back.

You tried moving your fingers first, then your toes. Then your arms. When you tried moving your head, you heard what sounded like chains.

Then sight came back.

You opened your eyes, blinking several times to make your surroundings come into focus.

Looking around, you saw that you were on the ground of a large, empty room..

Empty, except for your team lying unconscious across the floor from you, each pair of wrists bound with metal cuffs; vibranium for the two super soldiers, Wanda was bound with a straight jacket, and a device was placed on Vision’s chest that looked like it may be short circuiting him.

You went to move, but as soon as you did you were choked.

Reaching up, you saw that your wrists were bound, and touching your throat you felt a metal collar on your neck that was attached to a metal chain attached to a post behind you.

You attempted to use your powers, but they didn’t work. It was probably an after effect of the drugs in your system, or maybe you had been inside too long without any solar radiation. Who knows how long you’d been out cold.

Suddenly a door slammed, and you turned to see several armed men walking into the room.

“Look who’s awake.” Said a voice. A terrifyingly familiar voice.

You backed away in fear, getting choked again, as you saw Papa, or Ethan rather, step out from behind the soldiers.

And with him, was Secretary Ross.

“Welcome back, my child.”

So this wasn’t actually a HYDRA mission after all, and you were suddenly wishing Thor and Bruce weren’t off world at the moment.

“Let them go.” You ordered, but your voice cracked.

Ethan stepped closer to your team, “Oh, but we’re only just getting started.”

Ethan walked behind everyone, kicking them as he went along, except for Vision. He left him unconscious.

“Wake up! You fuckers, up!”

“Stop!” You screamed as you watched in horror.

Each person started awake with a groan.

When Bucky came to, he saw you chained to a post like a dog.

“(Y/N)?” He groaned, going to stand only to be shoved back down.

“Bucky.” You choked out.

“Move and she dies.”

He looked up and met eyes with Ethan.

“Touch her and you’ll die.” Bucky spat.

“You must be the boyfriend. How sweet.” Ethan said in a cooing tone, “But I’m not sure how much you can do with one arm.”

Looking down, Bucky realized his vibranium arm was missing.

“That’s a new level of low, Ethan. Even for you.” Steve chimed in.

“I think he hit a new level of low when he bought and imprisoned a child.” Natasha retorted, her non-enhanced body finally catching up.

“I didn’t imprison anyone. I bought her, therefore she was mine to keep.”

“Christ, you’re sick.” Clint grumbled.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Tony groaned, noticing Ross in the room.

“Hello, Stark.” Ross said with an evil grin.

“Secretary Ross?” Steve asked.

“What the hell is this?” Sam’s eyes narrowed at Ross.

“Ross and I struck a deal,” Ethan said, walking towards you, “He helped me get back what was mine, and in return I helped him get the Avengers. Really, it was much too easy.”

Ethan ran his hand down the back of your head, making you cringe and pull away.

“Please, Ethan. Let them go.” You pleaded.

He suddenly grabbed a fist full of your hair, pulling you towards him. You fumbled to stay upright, biting your lip to keep from crying out.

“You do not call me anything but what you were told! Got it?”

Tears burned your eyes and you nodded as much as you could with Ethan restricting your head movements.

“What do you call me? Say it.” He hissed.

“P-Papa.” You voice cracked.

“Leave her alone you fucking creep!” Bucky yelled.

Ethan rolled his eyes.

Turning to Ross, Ethan spoke, “You have what you wanted. Don’t kill them all at once.”

Ross nodded.

“What??” You screeched, “Kill them? Please do not, please-“

“Stop talking!” Ethan shook you again, shoving you to the ground.

“(Y/N)!” Bucky shouted.

“Kill him first.” Ethan said to Ross, jerking his head towards Bucky.

“No!” You screamed, only to get kicked in the stomach.

Ethan kneeled down to you and grabbed your chin, pulling you towards him.

“We’re gonna have some fun. Need to make up for lost time.” He whispered with a sickening smile.

“You fucking bastard! I’ll kill you!” Bucky jerked, struggling to break the cuff.

One of the men walked up to Bucky, punching him in the jaw.

“Bucky!” You screamed.

“Come on,” Ethan growled, unlocking the chain from the post and pulling you from where you sat.

Your breath sped up and you could hear your heart in your ears.

Turning, you saw Ross pull out a gun and walking towards Bucky.

You stopped full force, Ethan turning when he felt the tug of the chain.

He pulled it again, attempting to jerk you towards him.

But you didn’t move.

You turned back to look at him, and he saw your eyes glowing a bright green.

“No.” You told him.

“I beg your pardon?” He asked,

“I said,” You answered, green tendrils of energy leaving your palms, “No.”

The tendrils wrapped around the cuffs on your wrist, breaking them like they were made from plastic.

You shoved your hand out in front of you, throwing Ethan across the room.

“One more move and I’ll kill him right here!” Ross shouted, and you turned to see his gun pressed against Bucky’s temple.

You felt anger surge through you, your blood boiling from the sight of the person you loved on the receiving end of a bullet.

You took a breath, and for the second time in your life, let the power inside your body fully take over.

The veins in your body began to glow green as the power overtook you.

You looked at Ross and jerked your head sideways, snapping the man’s neck.

His body fell with a thud, and suddenly every soldier that had walked in with them pulled out their guns, aiming them at you.

Shots began to ring out, but a force field covered you as you walked towards them.

Your hands opened and two green daggers manifested from your energy.

You threw one, hitting one of the men in the shoulder.

Jumping and flying towards them, you tossed the other one, piercing the heart of another.

You kicked the first soldier, dropping down and grabbing the knife from his body. Whirling around you sliced the throat of the man behind you, then stabbed the next one in the stomach.

You heard one running up to you, so you turned and grabbed the rifle, twisting it out of his hands and smashing it across his head.

You turned to see two more men, guns at the ready, but they dropped them and threw their hands up.

Too bad you didn’t have control anymore.

Your hands raised on either side of you and along with them so did two of the discarded bullets from the ground. With a flick of your wrists the bullets shot through their heads, point blank.

When you saw no more soldiers standing, you fought for control, reigning in your powers.

Just then, a gun sounded off, and you turned to see Ethan holding himself against the wall, gun raised.

“Buck!” Steve yelled.

Your head shot in their direction. You saw Bucky’s face in shock, his hand over his stomach and blood seeping through Bucky’s fingers, spilling from his stomach.

“Noooooo!” You screamed, falling to your knees.

You sat there for all of five seconds, breathing rapidly when you felt a calming sensation. You looked up and saw Ethan smiling wickedly at you.

At the speed of light, you shot towards him, pinning him against the wall.

“That was a mistake.” You growled.

“Was it?” He asked.

“Yes.”

You didn’t give him time to answer, you manifested another knife and drove it into his stomach, twisting it.

“(Y/N)! Bucky needs help!” Steve yelled.

That snapped you out of your rage, and you quickly ran over to them, using your powers to break everyone out of their bonds except for Steve and Bucky. Natasha went to look for Bucky’s arm and for the keys to their cuffs, and Tony and Wanda went to work on helping Vision.

Even in their bonds, Steve was able to get Bucky to lay down and he was able to put pressure on the wound.

“What do I do?” You asked as you, Sam, and Clint kneeled next to Bucky.

“We need a med evac, like yesterday. Clint-“

“On it.” Clint nodded and ran off.

“Okay, (Y/N), you have telekinesis now. So I want you to, very carefully, pull out the bullet.”

“You want me to do what? I can not do that!” Your breaths began to pick up.

“Hey. Hey, yes you can. You’re one of the bravest, strongest people I know. You can do anything. I know that sounds cliche but you can. Bucky needs you to do this.”

You stared at Steve, forcing yourself to breathe. You looked down at Bucky who looked like he was struggling to stay awake.

You ran a hand over his sweaty and matted hair.

“Bucky?”

His eyes looked to you and focused, “(Y/N).”

“I am sorry. This is all my fault.” You said as tears began to fall.

“No, doll, d’n’t say tha’. This isn’ ‘nyone’s fault but tha’ psycho’s.” His speech began to slur.

You cupped his face, “This might hurt.”

Bucky nodded, and you turned your focus to where Steve’s hands were currently. He removed them and you closed your eyes, placing your hands above the wound.

Your eyes began moving from side to side behind your eyelids, as if searching for the bullet, when suddenly Bucky groaned, making you wince.

“Don’t stop,” Steve ordered, “Nice and steady but stopping could cause more damage.”

You nodded and kept going, trying to ignore Bucky’s whimpers. You briefly wondered if it was at all possible to turn him into the soldier for just a short while, but then immediately kicked yourself for that thought.

Finally you felt something press against your hand and you grabbed onto it, opening your eyes to see the bullet.

“Good job,” Steve praised, putting pressure back on the wound.

Looking up you saw Vision sitting up with Tony and Wanda on either side of him and Natasha walking towards you holding a robotic arm and a set of keys.

“Ready to be a free man again?” She asked, kneeling next to Steve.

“Thank God.”

She tested out each key, letting out a little ‘whoop’ when the 4th key unlocked the cuffs. She turned and unlocked Bucky’s cuff too.

“Don’t worry about his arm. We can attach it back when we fix the main problem.” Steve said.

Just then, Bucky’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he began to shake uncontrollably.

“What is happening??” You yelled.

“He’s seizing.” Steve answered, rolling Bucky to his side while Sam moved to put his head in his lap, “Where the hell is Clint?”

“Right here!” He yelled, running into the room, “Shield is sending an evac but it’ll be an hour before they get here.”

“We don’t have an hour and we can’t get him to the QuinJet like this!” Steve snapped.

Your eyes snapped up from Bucky, “I can.”

They all looked at you, “What?”

“I can carry him to the QuinJet. With my powers. FRIDAY can auto pilot back to the Tower. There is medical supplies on the jet and she can talk me through stabilizing him. It is better than waiting here.”

“You’ve never carried anything, much less an injured super soldier, for five miles. We don’t even know if there are any hostile left.” Steve said.

“Plus, we don’t know how long we’ve been in here, and you used a lot of energy. You may not have a lot left.” Tony added.

“We do not have a choice! I will not sit here and let him die!” You looked down and saw Bucky’s tremors had calmed down, “Vision and Wanda are able to keep up with me. They can hold off any hostiles if need be. I will be fine for five miles. It will not kill me.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, “Isn’t that exactly what happens when you run out of energy?”

“I am not arguing this!” You bit. You pulled off your shirt, leaving your torso in your bra, and ignoring everyone’s raised eyebrows. Lifting Bucky into the air with one hand, you pressed your shirt against his wound with the other.

You listed into the air, Wanda and Vision following, and took off.

***

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