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aquamarinescarlet · 3 years

Text

Don’t give up just yet

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.6k

Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)

Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.

Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.

PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.

“You should call her, y’know.”

“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”

“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”

You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.

“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”

“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”

Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall.

Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.

The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.

Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.

You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there.

First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.

Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.

Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings…

It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired.

You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’

Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it.

After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t.

It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.

You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.

As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.

Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it.

You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all.

Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.

The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.

You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems.

“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.”

“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.

“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.

“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch.

“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.

“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer.

Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile.

“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.”

“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.”

“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing.

Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.

She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.

Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her.

Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?

She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.

Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.

She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.

After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate.

Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did.

Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again…

When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?

The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.

And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.

Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?

She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.

Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.

But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like.

You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.

You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.

The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.

“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.

Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.

“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!”

You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.

“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”

“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.

“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you.

She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up.

It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.

Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.

You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.

One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be.

She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.

And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all.

It still seemed weird though. Like something was off.

“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”

“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.

It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.

“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe.

“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.

Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.

The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.

It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.

After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.

Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet?

She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?

Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology.

You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.

That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.

Two voicemails.

From none other than Isaac.

It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.

Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.

The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.

The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?

Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.

It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.

“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.

A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.

“How can I help?”

“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.

“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.

Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.

“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.

“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket.

It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.

The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.

You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.

You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.

“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless.

The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.

Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.

You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.

“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.

You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.

“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.

Those words.

Her looking at her wrist.

Your’s burning now.

You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.

“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #mcu #marvel #reader insert #wanda maximoff imagine #soulmate au

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onceuponastory · 3 years

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guilty - b.b x reader

Darling, darling, darling, let me sing to you Let me sing to you, let me sing to you Darling, darling, darling, let me shelter you Let you into all the homes that fear has made of me How the shingles fall like dust beside your company - little words: the happy fits (also you should check out the happy fits, cause their music is really good! highly recommend.)

Plot: Bucky tells his girlfriend Y/N the truth about his past...and all the bodies left in his wake. A/N: My friends requested Bucky being told that what happened to him and what he did as The Winter Soldier wasn’t his fault. They also wanted to see more emotional Bucky, like the opening scene of TFATWS episode 4, so I happily obliged! cause Bucky Barnes is not a villain and if you think he is gtfo. Also, chapter 2 of ever after is coming, it’s just these chapters are turning out to be way longer than I first thought, lmao. Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence, torture, death...basically everything Bucky did as TWS. Also a lot of self loathing. This is a very angsty fic, but there’s a happy ending!

There are a lot of things in life that Bucky Barnes hates. The rain, for one thing. And John Walker. But most of all, what Bucky hates is feeling guilty. And with a past stained with as much blood as his...he has a lot to feel guilty about. It’s not that Bucky doesn’t want to feel guilty or atone for what he did, completely the opposite, in fact. He hates being unable to sleep at night without hearing screaming or seeing the blood he spilt. In all honesty, Bucky just wants it to stop. He hates closing his eyes every night and dreads actually falling asleep because he knows that’s when the nightmares begin.

Bucky peers over from his spot on the couch to watch his girlfriend Y/N as she cleans up the things from dinner. She’s always been so sweet to him, and it breaks his heart to know that he’s not the kind of person she thinks he is. The complete opposite, actually. But most of all, Bucky hates how he knows he still hasn’t told her about his past and the type of person he used to be. He doesn’t want to tell her, not wanting to destroy her happiness. Bucky imagines how she’ll react when he tells her. Probably run screaming in the other direction, or dump him immediately. And even though it breaks his heart to imagine that...he knows it’s what he deserves. But first, he has to tell her..and he’s going to do it today...If he can work up the guts to tell her, that is.

“Y/N? Doll? Can you come here for a sec? Please?” Bucky asks, trying to make his voice more serious, but still hating how nervous he sounds. Y/N walks over to him. She raises an eyebrow, clearly confused. Bucky clears his throat and pats the seat beside him on the couch, motioning for her to sit, which she does.

“Buck? What’s going on?” She asks. Bucky tries not to wince at the fact she used his nickname. It still feels weird to him. Weird that he’s still alive, still loved by people enough to have a nickname, to have a girlfriend, and to be given a chance at redemption...even with all this blood on his hands. And when all the people he killed didn’t even have the opportunity to grow old and be loved. He ruined so many lives. Why should he be the one to find happiness? Why isn’t he the one who died? “Bucky?” Y/N cuts into his thoughts. She’s looking up at him, her eyes full of concern. Again, Bucky wonders what will happen when he tells her the truth. Will she even love him anymore? Or will she run for the hills?

“I uh...” He clears his throat. “I have something I need to tell you.” Her eyes widen slightly, and before Bucky can even think about what he’s going to say next, she asks:

“Did you cheat on me? Please tell me you didn’t.” For a moment, Bucky considers lying and telling her that he did cheat. Even though it’ll break her heart, it’s a lot better than admitting you’re responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people, regardless of whether or not he was brainwashed into doing so. That way, he can protect her from ever finding out the truth. She’d leave, and he could go back to being alone. Even though the very idea of losing Y/N and being alone forever hurts, Bucky knows that it’s the least of what he deserves. “Bucky, please. Just tell me the truth.” She pleads, and Bucky can see her eyes glistening with tears. “Whatever it is, we can talk about it and hopefully work through it.” Bucky’s not too sure about that one. He sighs. Even though the truth was a lot worse, Bucky knows Y/N deserves to hear it...even if it might destroy their relationship.

“No, it’s not like that. I didn’t cheat.” Y/N sighs, and relief floods her features.

“Good. I didn’t think you would do that to me. You’re not that kind of person.” Bucky feels his heart shatter. She doesn’t even know the kind of person he really was. The merciless killer. The Winter Soldier. Someone responsible for so much pain and suffering. Bucky takes her hands. He runs his non-metal thumb over her knuckles, trying not to stare too long at his metal arm and hand. Even though he was given a different one in Wakanda, one not tied to suffering, one without blood on it...seeing his metal arm still reminds him of the pain his previous one caused. “What do you need to tell me?”

“Um...” He sighs, trying to find the words. “Remember ages ago, when Sam said something happened to me? Something bad?” Y/N nods. “Well...he wasn’t exactly honest. I mean, yeah, something bad happened to me. But I did something bad. Something...worse.” She frowns. “Back when I was in World War Two with Steve, my unit got captured, and they experimented on me.”

“I know this. You and Steve told me.” Y/N cuts him off.

“I know...but you don’t know the full extent of it.” Bucky sighs, memories flooding his brain. He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, trying to block them out. “They injected me with super-soldier serum, which helped me to survive the train fall, as you know.” She nods, listening intently. “Well. I didn’t just sit and wait for Steve to find me or escape heroically or anything. I, um...I....” He takes a deep breath. Y/N squeezes his hand, and Bucky almost breaks down in tears right then. She’s too sweet for him. He doesn’t deserve her. “I was taken by the Soviet Wing of Hydra, and they wiped my memories, implanted these...trigger words in me so I’d do whatever they want. I became their...assassin.”

“What are you saying?” She asks.

“I’m saying...I was the Winter Soldier. The monster that killed innocent people and injured countless others. I’ve left so many bodies in my wake...and done so many bad things Y/N. And I don’t deserve any of...this.” He waves his free hand around at the apartment they’re both in...and at her. Y/N blinks back at him, looking slightly shocked at Bucky’s revelation. “And I definitely don’t deserve someone like you. Not after what I did or who I was. The person who tried to kill Steve, Sam, Fury and Nat-”

“But you didn’t, Bucky, you-” She leans in closer, reaching her hand closer to the forearm of his metal arm.

“BUT I TRIED TO!” He exclaims, cutting her off as he jerks his metal arm back. Y/N jumps back a little, a look of fear crossing her face for a moment. That makes Bucky feel even worse. Even though Ayo and Shuri helped rehabilitate him, and Ayo removed his trigger words, Bucky has spent many sleepless nights tossing and turning. He stays awake almost all night, wondering how much of The Winter Soldier remains within him and whether he’d hurt or scare anyone that way again. Seeing the look of fear on Y/N’s face tells him only one thing: he’s still the same monster he was before. And now he’s scared the one person he wanted to protect. Bucky panics, and his stomach drops. Drops into a black hole that he wishes would swallow him whole. “I’m sorry, I-I I didn’t mean to-” He stammers, tripping over his words. Tears threaten to spill over, and he gets up from the couch quickly. “I’m sorry....I-I should just go. Maybe just...don’t contact me. I don’t want to hurt you o-or...” Without another word, Bucky walks towards the door.

“Bucky! Bucky, wait!” He hears Y/N following him, and he tries to speed up to avoid her. “Wait, please! Please...don’t leave.” Bucky opens the front door to her apartment, and she runs in front of him, shielding the door with her body and placing her arms out so he can’t get by her. Bucky sighs. In the past, with his true strength, he could easily move her out of the way. But of course, there’s no way he would hurt her...at least, any more than he probably already has.

“Y/N. Let me get past, please.” He mumbles, and she shakes her head. “Doll....”

“No. I’m not moving.”

“Look, it’s better for both of us if I just go. I’m a monster. I always have been and always will be. That serum that turned me into this monster is still in my veins. Who’s to know when it will strike again, even stronger, or if I hurt you? I can’t do that. I have to go.” He argues back, his voice quieter and shaky.

“No. You don’t. I’m not going to let you.”

“Y/N.” He sighs again, exasperated. “I don’t know why you’re fighting this so much. I mean...it’s nice, but trust me, I don’t deserve it. Now...” He leans in and presses a delicate kiss to her forehead. But despite how delicately he kisses her, there’s still pain behind that kiss. The pain of leaving Y/N, the only woman he’s ever loved, forever. Bucky almost scoffs at that. Even when he’s trying to be tender and loving...all he does is cause pain. But after everything he’s done, Bucky knows that pain is what he deserves. And Y/N deserves someone better than him. Even though saying that still breaks his heart, he knows it’s true. “You need to let me go. Please. Just let me go.” He whispers, tears falling slowly down his cheeks. Y/N shakes her head again.

“No. Stop asking me to, because I won’t.”

“Why not? You know-”

“Because!” She shouts, snapping her head up to him, tears filling her eyes too. “...Because I’m in love with you, Bucky, and hearing you talk about yourself like that, and saying you don’t deserve to be loved...it breaks my heart.” Bucky blinks at her, confused.

“But-but I did so many bad things!”

“When you were brainwashed!” She snaps back. “I know you killed people. But it wasn’t your choice. Was it?” She asks. Bucky shakes his head. Of course, it wasn’t his choice...but he still did it. And he still has to live with it. “See? It wasn’t you, Bucky. They turned you into that person. It wasn’t your conscious choice.”

“But I-” Bucky tries to argue back, but Y/N interrupts him again

“Listen. The way I see it, you were kidnapped whilst you were trying to save the world. And when that happened, they tortured you and forced the serum on you whilst Steve chose to get it, right?” Bucky nods. “And then, they kidnapped you again, wiped your memories and forced you to kill all those people.”

“Well, yes, but I-”

“Bucky. It wasn’t you. It wasn’t your choice. It's not your fault. I know you didn’t want to do those horrible things. And you’re atoning for them, aren’t you?” Bucky frowns.

“How...how do you know that?”

“I found your notebook. Sam told me it used to be Steve’s. I uh...I had a look inside and saw a list of names. Are those the people you wronged?” Bucky nods, feeling tears growing in his eyes again.

“My uh...my therapist suggested it would be useful. It’s part of my pardon, I think. But I wanted to anyway.”

Y/N’s eyes soften. “See Bucky? The fact you’re atoning and that you actually want to, means so much about you. You’re trying to do the right thing.” She steps forward and gently takes his hands in hers. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. Because I know that’s not you. It wasn’t you then, and it’s not now. You’re the kind of guy who brings me ice cream when I’m upset, who laughs at pictures and videos of cats, and sings along to Disney films with me. You’re not a killer. You are not The Winter Soldier. Your name is James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes, and it’s not your fault.” Bucky is silent for a while, as he can’t even think of something to say. He’s simply overwhelmed with emotion and the feeling of having someone like Y/N loving and supporting him. So overwhelmed, in fact, that he starts crying. Actually, he starts sobbing as the years of pent up emotion spill over. Y/N wraps her arms around him and pulls him closer. Bucky doesn’t even try to stop her, and just wraps his arms around her in return. He feels like his legs are about to give way at any moment and that he’s definitely covering her outfit in snot and tears, but she doesn’t seem to care. All she does is repeat: “You are not The Winter Soldier anymore. Your name is James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes, and it’s not your fault.” She continues this phrase, trying to drill into Bucky that it’s not his fault. After a while, Bucky feels his legs give out, and the pair crash to the floor, but Y/N doesn’t let go. She squeezes him even tighter as Bucky’s body shakes as he cries, so tightly it’s as if she’s trying to transfer all her love and warmth into him. “I love you. So much.” She whispers, softly kissing him on the lips.

“I love you too.” Bucky whispers. Y/N pulls away and looks over at him, her eyes full of love and support.

“I’m here for you. I always will be. You deserve love. It’s not your fault Bucky. It never was.” She whispers. And for the first time in forever...Bucky starts to believe that. Of course, he knows he still has a lot of healing and therapy to go through. But, he knows that as long as he has Y/N there to support him, he’ll be okay.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fic #bucky imagine #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky oneshot #bucky one shot

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yelena-bellova · 3 years

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Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter Two

chapter one -Chapter Two: According To Plan - chapter three

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n and Sam leave for Munich, gaining the surprise addition of Bucky Barnes to their team.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader, Sam Wilson x platonic!reader

Warnings: spoilers for ep.2, language, violence, squint for fluff in between all the chaos, Y/n and Bucky ain’t feeling each other yet, protective big brother Sam, nobody likes Walker

Word Count: 7.5k (ya’ll, we had to split episode 2 into two chapters because I use too many words lol)

A/N: OKAY, thank you to everybody for supporting the first chapter. I didn’t really think anything would come of it but I was clearly wrong. Hopefully you enjoy this one just as much, each episode will probably be divided into two chapters if the rest of the season continues on like it is.

----

The government hadn’t just failed Sam, they were rubbing his face in the fact that they thought their knockoff Captain America was a better candidate than him.

I followed my brother down the halls of the New Orleans air force base, trying to ignore the paraphernalia that hung on the walls. John Walker was everywhere you looked; the internet, televisions, posters were plastered all over the city announcing his new appointment. Each time I had to read the words ‘Cap Is Back’ I became a little sick to my stomach. Sam stopped in front of me once we’d reached the hanger to stare at one of the posters. Though he tried to keep his face neutral, the sadness bled through in his eyes.

“Seems like a good guy. You met him?” a man who I assumed was Sam’s military contact asked.

“No,” Sam answered before changing the topic, “Thanks for doing this on such short notice.” “Yeah, no sweat. I’m just finishing up the checklist, you two’ll be all good to go once you land in Munich,” he looked to me and reached a hand for me to shake, “Joaquin Torres.” “Y/n Y/l/n. Thanks for not making any noise about me coming along for the ride.”

“Hey, I trust an Avenger’s judgement on who to bring to a fight,” he smiled, stopping at the top of the steps to allow me to go before himself.

I elbowed Sam as we descended the stairs side by side, “Hear that? You’ve got good judge- why’re you making that face?” Before he could answer, a foreign voice announced its presence. “Shouldn’t have given up the shield.”

My eyes fell to the floor below us and climbed the looming figure waiting at the end of the staircase. I didn’t need to have any history lessons on who he was or why he’d come to talk to Sam about such a subject. James Bucky Barnes, the second 100+ year old man to walk the earth without a single wrinkle. The tragic tale of HYDRA’s bloodthirsty history. The man Sam had fought to protect and been sent to prison for.

“Good to see you too, Buck,” Sam passively greeted the man, swerving around his body to continue on our path to the jet. The hint wasn’t taken.

“This is wrong.”

“Hey, hey, look, I’m working, alright? So all this outrage is gonna have to wait.” Bucky fell into step on the other side of Sam, pointing towards yet another poster of John Walker, “You didn’t know that was gonna happen?”

“No, of course I didn’t know that was gonna happen,” Sam’s tone became more emotional, “You think it didn’t break my heart to see them march him out there and call him the new Captain America?” “This isn’t what Steve wanted,” Bucky pushed. Sam was growing tired of the questioning, “What do you want me to do? Call America and tell ‘em I changed my mind? Huh? Yeah, right. It’s a great reunion, buddy, be well.” “You had no right to give up that shield, Sam.” I could no longer stay silent and let him try and make a good man feel guilty. “Okay, you’re out of line with that one, Barnes.” Bucky finally took a second to register my being there before looking back to Sam, “Who the hell is this?” “She’s none of your concern, but let me tell you what you’re not gonna do,” Sam stood in front of Bucky, “You’re not gonna come here in your overextended life and tell me about my rights. It’s over, Bucky. Besides, I have bigger things to deal with now.” Emotions I couldn’t fully understand took over Bucky’s face, “What could be bigger than this?”

Sam fished his phone out of his back pocket and held it up to the Super Soldier, “This guy. His connections with rebel organizations all over Eastern and Central Europe and he’s strong. Too strong.” “And?” Bucky asked, unimpressed.

“Well, he’s been connected to this online group called the Flag Smashers. Now, Redwing traced them to a building somewhere outside of Munich so that’s where I’m going,” Sam turned to me to signal we were walking again.

“Well, I don’t trust Redwing,” Bucky continued his pursuit, “Hold on a minute.” “You don’t have to trust Redwing,” Sam said firmly as we paused again, “But I’mma go see if he’s right. ‘Cause I have a feeling they might be a part of the Big Three.”

Bucky’s eyebrows lowered in confusion, “What ‘Big Three?’”

“The Big Three.”

“What Big Three?” “Androids, aliens and wizards,” I answered before Sam could. “That’s not a thing,” Bucky shook his head. “That’s definitely a thing,” Sam nodded. “No, it’s not.” “It really is,” I set my bag down on the ground and crossed my arms, there was no indication we’d be leaving any time soon.

“Every time we fight, we fight one of the three,” Sam insisted.

“So who are you fighting now, Gandalf?”

Sam inhaled to continue arguing before snapping his head back in surprise, “How do you know about Gandalf?” “I read The Hobbit,” Bucky answered confidently, “In 1937 when it first came out.”

“So you see my point?” “No, I don’t. There are no wizards.” I pointed to Bucky and tilted my head towards Sam, “Now there, I agree with him.” Sam looked offended that I didn’t automatically back him up, “You both are wrong…Doctor Strange.” “Is a sorcerer,” Bucky finished.

“Aah!” Sam laughed and poked Bucky’s firm chest, “A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat. Think about it, right? I’m right. I just came up with that, it’s crazy.” Bucky’s face read that he was thousand shades of done with Sam’s childish argument, even if he’d fought just as immaturely. I was beginning to see why Sam didn’t recount his brief time spent with the ex-Winter Soldier that fondly but I’d also forgotten how easy it was to push Sam’s buttons sometimes. There was some unwitting dynamic between them that I didn’t want to be in the middle of. “So glad we’re wasting valuable time on arguing over whether or not Harry Potter’s real,” I spoke up, tapping my foot out of impatience.

Sam was the first to snap back to reality, “That’s not the point. These guys aren’t magical, alright? They use brute force just like you, the incredibly annoying guy in front of me with the staring problem,” he reached down to grab my bag and hand it to me, “Let’s move.” “I’m coming with you,” Bucky called, the sound of his combat boots hitting the hanger floor behind us. “No, you’re not,” Sam answered harshly. “Oh my gosh,” I groaned before dropping my duffle bag again on the tarmac and spinning around to face the two men, “I don’t know how you two could have possibly saved the day as much as people say you have if you’re always like this! You,” I pointed to Sam, “Stop trying to do this on your own. You,” I moved my finger towards Bucky, “No more talking about the shield. If anybody needs me,” I wiggled my fingers and let the blue energy lift my bag into the air, “I’ll be waiting in the jet.” ——

Bucky and Sam stood speechless as they watched Y/n march across the tarmac, her bag magically floating behind her. “Who is she?” “My sister, Y/n,” Sam answered, “I didn’t know she could do that till today. She twisted my arm until I agreed to let her come.” Bucky’s eyes hadn’t left Y/n since she took control and ended Sam and his bickering. There weren’t many people who met him for the first time and didn’t give him a second glance. If she was Sam’s sister then she sure as hell knew about his past. Yet here she was daring to order him around and advocate for him to join Sam and her on their mission. It also went without saying that she was gorgeous. But she had proven that she didn’t understand the seriousness in which the situation with the new Captain America needed to be treated with, and that irked him. Still, his feet automatically wanted to carry him to the jet once she’d headed up the ramp and he’d lost his view of her. “Can’t decide whether I like her or not.”

——

Not having a suit to wear, I had changed on the jet from my sweater, capris and sneakers to a black shirt, jeans, booties and my favorite blue leather jacket that matched the blue that flowed from my fingertips.

When I stepped out of the jet’s bathroom, I expected to find Sam and Bucky fighting again. The whole flight so far has been filled with the same tension that had begun in the hanger and we’d been sitting in uncomfortable silence ever since. I was sure that the second I left, they’d be going at it again like children when a parent disappeared. Instead, they were quietly sitting on opposite sides of the jet with their eyes trained on one another.

“Can you guys quiet down for a second?” I sarcastically remarked as I walked across the room, “I can’t hear myself think.”

I deposited my bag in the corner of the jet near where Torres was climbing down the ladder, “One minute to drop off, Sam.”

I expected to turn around and see both Sam and Bucky up and preparing themselves, but the two men were still embroiled in a stare down. Sam and I had always cheesed each other off in a typical sibling fashion, but Bucky and his relationship seemingly consisted of nothing but that.

Sam finally rose from his seat and Bucky quickly did the same, I brushed past him to stand on the other side of Sam. “So what’s the plan?” Sam ignored the question and handed me a small black device, “This is your comm, don’t lose it.” I nodded and placed the small ear piece in my ear, the faint hums of the jet coming through it.

With no direction from Sam, Bucky sat back down unhappily. “Great. So no plan?”

“Thirty seconds,” Torres shouted over the wind coming in from the open hatch.

“Enjoy your ride, Buck,” Sam remarked from beside me. “No, you can’t call me that.” “Why not? That’s what Steve called you.” “Steve knew me longer and Steve,” Bucky tilted his head to Sam, “Had a plan.”

I shook my head to shake off the ridiculousness of arguing nicknames at the moment. “I’m sorry, are we really playing the name game when we’re literally about to jump out of a plane? I get this is my first mission and all but- Bucky’s eyebrows shot up his forehead as he looked to Sam, “This is her first mission? What the hell were you thinking, bringing her?” “She,” I took a step towards Bucky, “Is more than capable of handling herself. First mission or 100th, I know what I’m doing, Barnes.”

“Fifteen seconds to drop!” Torres’ announcement ended any further arguing between me and Bucky.

“Listen to the woman,” Sam smirked as he put on his goggles, probably thinking back to a few hours ago when I’d body slammed him into the roof, “And I have a plan.”

“Really?” Bucky spread his arms out as we watched Sam walk away from us, “What is it?” Sam had already told me that he’d drop in first and I was to follow once he’d cleared the area. Bucky had not been privy to hearing that discussion and Sam had made no effort to fill him in. Without giving Bucky a second look, but winking at me, he dove headfirst out of the hatch and activated his wings, flying gracefully downwards towards the forest. I had never gotten to see him fly and felt a sense of pride as I looked out to see him glide above the trees.

“Where’s the chute?” Bucky called out.

“We’re at 200 feet, it’s too low for a chute,” Torres stated.

Bucky stalked towards the door, “I don’t need it anyway.”

“Neither will I,” I said, taking a step forward to see just how high we really were. I was confidant in my ability to keep up with Sam and wanted to prove my capability, but I was human. It went against every natural instinct to step out into the air and catch myself. Bucky moved to stand next to me, the two of us turning to face each other. This was the first time we’d actually made more than fleeting eye contact and I was finally able to get a good look at him. His features were sharp, his cheekbones and jaw were extremely prominent. Something more than scruff and less than a beard covered the bottom half of his face. His eyes were cerulean blue, just nearly matching the shade of my energy. Complete with a short, scruffy haircut, I wasn’t sure if handsome was a strong enough word for just how good looking James Barnes was.

“Ladies first,” Bucky nodded towards our exit, never breaking eye contact, “Sure you know what you’re doing?” I smiled smugly, matching the amount of sass radiating from his words, “Do you?”

Not wanting to give him the opportunity to think up a come back, I turned away from him and threw myself out of the plane. An unavoidable scream flew from my lips as I free fell, somehow managing in the chaos to threw my arms out at my sides and expel my energy to control my descent. Once I got a hold on maneuvering the winds, the act actually became almost enjoyable. I found myself laughing as I weaved between the trees, until my laughter was accompanied by a fast approaching scream above me. A shower of branches began to rain down around me forcing me to swerve to the side just in time for Bucky’s figure to come crashing through. He landed harshly on his back, limbs spread out and a pained groan escaping his lips.

I floated directly above him, “I stand corrected, you definitely know what you’re doing.” “I have all of that on camera. You know that, right?” Sam’s voice came through our comms. Redwing flew up from behind us and zoomed in on Bucky’s face.

“Get out of my face, Sam, or I’ll break it,” Bucky uttered, exhaustion filling his voice.

“Okay, head north. Come on.” I snickered at the exchange and lowered myself to the ground close enough to Bucky to extend him a hand. He accepted it and I helped pull him to an upright sitting position, trying to hide the fact that I struggled with his weight. “Thanks.” “Well, my mom taught me to always help my elders,” I said with a smirk, earning myself a scowl in response. “You’re as bad as Sam, aren’t you?” he moaned as he rose to his full height.

“Okay, okay,” I ceased my soft laughter, “I’m sorry. Seriously, are you okay? I know you’re a super soldier but still-” “I’m fine,” Bucky confirmed quickly, brushing the dirt from his jacket and turning north, “Let’s go.”

The two of us fell into a silence that wasn’t necessarily uneasy but certainly not relaxed. We weren’t enemies, we weren’t coworkers and we definitely weren’t friends. We’d spoken all of about five sentences to each other since meeting and none of them had been particularly chummy. “Sam only mentioned one sister,” Bucky broke the non-verbal spell.

“Sarah,” I stated, “We’re not technically related but they’re family. Sam told me he reached out to you and never got anything back. I think he was wondering how you were doing.” “Yeah, well…” he mumbled, stepping over a particularly large boulder and avoiding my gaze.

I decided not to push the subject, not only were we nearing the warehouse, Sam could hear us through the comms and Redwing. But I made a note of the lightning quick wave of emotion that crossed Bucky’s eyes. Sam was definitely a trigger for him, but I had a feeling this was something much more complicated. Something I didn’t have time to get too curious over.

We made it out of the forest and Redwing led us to the back entrance to the warehouse. The graffiti and wrecked roofing made me want to believe that nobody had been there in ages, but Sam’s intel contradicted the setting. My brother, the esteemed military man, was also contradicting his age as he maneuvered Redwing just above us to provoke Bucky into taking a swing at him. “Oh-ho-ho, don’t hurt him,” he teased as Redwing quickly avoided the assault.

Sam stood in the next room staring down at the screen on his wrist, scanning the building through Redwing’s camera. He took a quick look at me to assess that I hadn’t been injured in the fall before turning back.

“You’re doing the staring thing again,” he commented without looking up. That one I’d give him, Bucky’s smoldering stare game was intimidating especially when he wasn’t saying anything. “They’re in there,” Sam tilted his head towards the nearest open doorway and stretching his arm out so Bucky and I could see what Redwing was seeing. There was a truck with two people loading in containers of something.

“Where’s the guy?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know. I think they’re smuggling weapons though.” “Well, I think you could be right,” Bucky’s voice lowered. “Hmm,” Sam nodded.

“But there’s only one way to find out,” Bucky turned towards the doorway, “I see a clear path, I say we take it.”

As soon as his boot hit the ground in its first step, Sam reached for his arm. “We’re not assassins.” “Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, observe from a distance rather than attack straight away?” I offered.

Bucky’s eyes flicked to me when I spoke and promptly back to Sam, throwing away my suggestion. He probably thought me naive. “I’ll see you inside or not.”

He pulled his arm out of Sam’s grip and went ahead, leaving Sam chuckling to himself. “Hey, come on, man. I’m just messing with you, come back,” he called softly. “‘I’m just messing with you,’ the Avengers’ official slogan,” I dryly jested, “Here I was thinking we were doing serious work. Is Redwing still surveying?” “Yeah,” Sam was still smiling to himself as he turned to watch Bucky stalk down the hallway, “Look at you. All stealthy. A little time in Wakanda and you come out White Panther.”

“It’s actually White Wolf,” Bucky responded in our ears.

“Huh?”

When we lost visual on Bucky, Sam snapped his fingers and nodded towards the hallway. We made our way through the various openings until we’d caught up, Sam held up a finger to his lips as we caught sight of Bucky and our steps became even softer.

“All right, I’m inside. Therefore way ahead of you,” Bucky bragged, turning back to where he thought we waited, “It’s not great but very doable.” His peripherals must have caught the red and white of Sam’s suit, he turned to see the two of us at his side. “Hello. How are you?” “Good. What did we miss? Nothing,” Sam replied.

“All right, let’s go,” Bucky moved to step forward again.

“No, wait,” Sam protested.

Bucky held up his prosthetic vibranium arm I had heard so much about. “I got a vibranium arm, I can take them.” “And I can fly, she can make things float, who gives a shit? Wait. I want to see where they’re going.” Bucky pointed towards the truck that was still being loaded, “There’s two people.”

“You only see two?” Sam started. “That’s what I saw,” Bucky confirmed.

“Let me see what Redwing sees.” “All right…” “Let’s see what Redwing sees…”

I held two fingers to my temple and rubbed, “My gosh, it’s like working with children.”

Sam fiddled with a few controls on the screen and activated the x-ray feature on his beloved drone, “Oh, look at that. How many people you see now? One, two…Oh, here it comes again.” Bucky sighed, unhappy to admit he was wrong, “Four. Five.” “Yeah, five.” “So they’re strong, whatever,” Bucky brushed off not only the math but our group’s capabilities. “Let’s go.”

“Barnes, wait,” I hissed as Sam reached out and took hold of his arm, his elbow hitting the metal shelves we were hiding behind and rattling something.

“Shit!” Sam whispered, he pulled me to his side to block me while Bucky ducked down. The group turned to investigate the noise but disregarded it at the lack of visible culprits. The trucks started and their doors were closed, each person getting into their designated vehicle. Sam started tapping on Redwing’s controller again, “There’s an eighth person. I think they have a hostage.”

With one look from Bucky, the three of us snapped into action. I raised myself into the air ahead of Sam who took off slightly behind me, looking down to see Bucky running impossibly fast. “Y/n, with me,” Sam called through the comms, I listened and hung back until he’d caught up. Bucky continued on his way until he’d climbed onto the back of the truck. I followed Sam’s lead as we flew to the side of the road.

“Shouldn’t we be helping him?” I asked as the two of us landed.

“They’re stealing medicine, vaccines,” Bucky’s voice filled my comm.

“He’s got it, we’re staying here and waiting for him to come back with the hostage. Then you and I are gonna keep following the trucks and see where they’re heading,” he explained, “I’m trying to keep you out of as much of the fight as I can.” “That’s the whole reason I came, Sam,” I argued, gesturing towards the road, “To help, to fight.”

“Bucky, talk to me,” Sam favored to ignore my desire to do dirty work, “What’s goin’ on?”

“Found the hostage,” he reported, followed only seconds later by a loud exclaim of “Shit!”

Adrenaline set every nerve alight in my body, something had gone wrong. Without asking for Sam’s permission I took off running down the road. I used my energy to lift towards the sky and flew the same way the truck’s had gone. Distantly, I heard Sam yell my name but made no effort to stop. “Barnes, talk to me,” I yelled over the winds I was flying against. As I spotted the trucks I saw the small silhouettes of figures standing atop one of them. Once I got closer, I could see that the one being aggressively pinned by two of them was Bucky. I landed on the vehicle’s roof just in time to see someone leap into the air, grab Redwing and break him with their knee. Between my want to help Bucky and my second hand protectiveness over Sam’s gear, I was pissed. The masked figure looked up at me, two brown eyes peeking out of eyeholes and marched forward, making me their next target. I created a ball of blue energy and aimed it at her, knocking her down but only for a second. She leapt towards me and landed a punch across my cheek, I went down with a groan and cradling my cheek. Now I was really pissed…

I opened an eye to see the shadow of Sam’s Falcon suit above me, he touched down on the truck and landed a kick to my assaulter’s abdomen. He quickly helped me to my feet as our enemy rose again and took a fight stance.

“Good of you to join the fight, Sam,” Bucky yelled before kicking one of his captors in the leg.

The person who had given me the shiner threw Sam aside to the second truck like he was weightless. She was far too small to be that strong, it was inhuman. I decided to hold back a little less and raised my hands toward her, extending waves of the blue energy and raising her up into the air. She struggled to try and escape my hold, grunting and groaning as she flopped around in the air. I was about to throw her into the trees when I was tackled from behind. We skidded towards the front of the truck till the boot of one of the thugs holding Bucky down hit me in the shoulder. Another masked figure, this one I suspected to be a man, had his arms wrapped tightly around my abdomen. He flipped me over and raised his head to slam into mine. Luckily he hadn’t thought to pin my arms down and his mistake allowed me to throw them in front of my face and create a force field that even the thickest of skulls couldn’t penetrate. I looked briefly to see Sam being pinned down as well on the second truck but couldn’t free myself to go help him.

And then, in a conflicting twist of events, a red white and blue shield came flying through the air.

As I struggled to keep the force field up and my arms locked, I made out an equally patriotic suited man throw the shield at the one who had punched me earlier. A second figure swung in from a helicopter and kicked her off the truck, leaving her clinging to the edge of the roof. The shield flew in the direction of the people holding Bucky down and hit one square in the back before bouncing back to its wielder. The guy holding me down was struck next and rolled right off of me, I sent a significantly bigger blast towards his chest that sent him flying off the back of the truck. Bucky reached down and helped me stand up, he pulled me out of the way when the shield came flying by our faces to hit his other attackers.

“You gotta be kidding me,” I panted.

John Walker stopped briefly to introduce himself to Sam, like he hadn’t been living rent free in our minds since that damned tv broadcast before sending the shield flying past Bucky and I again. As it bounced off our enemies and back towards Walker, Bucky’s metal hand snapped up to grab it only for Walker to retake it. The time for anger or sadness wasn’t now, though the forlorn expression on Bucky’s face said otherwise. I broke from him and launched myself across the gap between trucks to land near where Sam was being attacked. Bucky followed suit and we began taking out each person one by one till Sam stood and turned too fast, hitting and sending Bucky plus one of the masked thugs over the side of the truck. Sam and I turned to face our last attacker who was stalking toward us, Sam glanced over his shoulder quickly before looking back ahead. “When I say ‘now,’ you shoot up,” he ordered, “Now!” I blasted upwards and over the overhead road sign he’d known would hit our attacker. I was too high to drop down suddenly but watched as Sam touched back down on the truck to be punched off the truck, activating his wings and catching himself in the wind. I flew downwards and lined up with the side of the truck, searching frantically for Bucky while trying to dodge the cars to my left. Bucky was clinging for dear life to the underside of the truck. His attacker stomped his metal arm with his boot till Bucky lost his grip with it and it dragged along the road creating a flurry of sparks.

“Sam, what do we do?” I yelled into my comm. “Now when I say ‘drop,’ you drop.” “Are you insane?!” I screeched, looking down at the asphalt and trying to calculate how fast I may be going. “DROP!”

Putting the most trust I ever had in Sam, I stopped the energy flow and was tackled mid-air by him. I twisted in his arms to wrap my legs around one of his and my arms around his back. Without warning, he flew us under the nearest truck before letting go of me with one arm and tackling Bucky. I readjusted my grip to have one arm around both of them. We dropped out of the air and crash-landed, rolling like a grunting and groaning wheel through a field of yellow flowers. Eventually we ceased our tumbling with Bucky on top of Sam and me to the side still clinging to both of them.

“Could have used that shield,” Bucky ground out tauntingly in Sam’s face.

“Get off of me,” Sam strained, shoving Bucky off with another loud grunt. I rolled to his other side and coughed loudly, having had the wind knocked out of me during the crash. The three of us lay on our backs trying to regain our breath, Sam and I more than Bucky but I chalked that up to the fact that he was just as strong as the people we’d just gotten our asses handed to us by. “Those were all Super Soldiers, Sam,” he stated in awe.

“I know,” Sam confirmed, “You’re welcome, by the way.” He pushed himself up painfully on an elbow to lean over me, “Are you okay?”

I was finally starting to feel like I could get some semblance of a normal breath in. I’d have wished it was running around with AJ and Cass that would have showed me I was out of shape and not losing a fight to Super Soldiers. “‘Big Three’ my ass, Wilson,” I wheezed, making no effort to sit up yet.

“I said ‘might be’,” Sam weakly fought, “‘Might be.’ Clearly I was wrong.”

“Will wonders never cease?” Bucky winced as he sat up, “We need to get to the airport and reformulate.” “Oh, do we now? Do we need to reformulate?” Sam mocked from the ground, “I hadn’t thought of that yet, Bucky, what an incredible-“ I groaned loudly and forced my torso up, “Dear God above, if you two don’t stop acting like twelve year olds, I’ll catch a Delta flight home.” “Good, that’s where I wanted you,” Sam reprimanded as he rose to join me, “I told you if you took some stupid risk, you were going back home and what did you do? You took off on your own towards those trucks!” “I was trying to help him,” I threw my hand out towards Bucky, “One way or another I would have gotten hurt, Sam, whether I’d have waited for you or not. And now that I’ve actually seen what we’re dealing with? No way am I going home.” I rolled onto my knees and got to my feet, my muscles aching with each movement I made to stand in front of the two men. “When you two decide to start acting like adults, I’ll meet you back at the jet.”

Holding in each groan that wanted to escape my mouth, I started my trek back towards the road, not making it very far until I heard two pairs of footsteps behind me.

We walked that way for most of the way, Sam and Bucky muttering something every once in a while to each other and me ahead of them trying to wrap my head around the situation. I had gotten myself tangled in the world of super soldiers, ones who weren’t using their advanced capabilities to save the world from one of the actual Big Three. Not only that but we’d had the displeasure of being rescued by the person the three of us had wanted to see least in the world. I had started the day out having coffee with Sarah on our back porch and by eastern standard time zone’s definition was ending it in Germany mid-afternoon with a killer bruise developing on my cheek. Whatever I had expected to come from joining Sam, it sure as hell wasn’t this.

A car honk summoned me out of my thoughts, an open roofed vehicle came up beside me and I was quick to identify the passengers. John Walker and the helicopter soldier.

“So that didn’t go as planned, huh?” Walker attempted to make friendly conversation, specifically with Sam and Bucky but I could sense I was also welcome to answer. I didn’t cease my movements and neither did Sam and Bucky which only caused Walker to instruct the driver to get ahead of us again. “Look, at least we know what we’re up against now, huh? And we’re pretty sure it’s one of the Big Three, so…” “Aliens, androids, or wizards?” the unnamed soldier double checked with Walker, who responded that he was still almost certain.

“There’s no such thing as wizards,” Bucky grumbled from behind me, sounding like the old man he biologically was.

“Then it’s aliens, or androids,” Walker shrugged. “Or Super Soldiers,” Sam corrected.

“Shit, Super Soldiers, for real?” Walker’s sidekick asked before turning in his seat to face, “Do you believe that?” “I believe that you two don’t know how to take a hint,” I frustratedly smiled at him, “But yes, I do.”

“Wow. All right, well, then we gotta work together,” Walker said. Bucky scoffed, “That’s not happening.”

“I think we stand a much better chance if we all just-“ Bucky finally lost his patience and said the thing we all were thinking, “Just ‘cause you carry that shield, it doesn’t mean you’re Captain America.”

Walker was quick to defend himself, “Look, I’ve done the work, okay?”

Bucky was equally as quick to prove him wrong, “You ever jump on top of a grenade?” “Yeah. Actually, I have. Four times,” Walker explained, “It’s a thing I do with my helmet. It’s a reinforced helmet. It’s a long story, but, look…It’s 20 miles to the airport, you guys need a ride.” A sudden cramp tore through my shin causing me to sharply inhale and grab the leg. Through the pain I managed to exhale and begin limping back along the path, “We’re good, thanks.”

“At least let us take her, she’s injured,” I heard Walker attempt to convince Sam and Bucky, knowing that I was probably a means to an end to get them in the car.

I didn’t get very far before I felt Sam’s arm wrap around my waist, “C’mon…” As much as I wanted to fight him on it, I knew I wouldn’t make it more than a few steps before I was bent over again in pain. The adrenaline had worn off and my whole body was starting to ache deeply in a way that made even breathing hurt where it shouldn’t. I dropped my head in frustration and nodded, putting my arm around Sam’s shoulder to let him brace me. He helped me limp back to the car where Bucky gently handled my other side, the two of them lifted me into the vehicle where Walker and his friend tried to help me sit down. I shrugged off their unwelcome hands and used the roof’s poles to lower myself into a seat. Sam jumped in and sat on one side of me, gently lifting the leg that was really bothering me onto his lap to try and massaging my shin. Bucky climbed in on my other side and gave me a once over, trying to assess if I was in any further pain that I wasn’t letting on to.

“Okay,” Walker began as the car rocked to life again, “So we’ve got eight Super Soldiers on a bulk supply run. Why?” “They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during The Blip,” Sam explained, “Maybe they’re just trying to help.” “They had a funny way of showing it,” Bucky commented.

“That serum doesn’t exactly have a great track record,” Walker quickly looked to Bucky, “No offense.” I tried not to judge people too harshly upon first meeting them, but I had no problem deciding right away that Walker was an asshole.

“We need to figure out where they’re going,” Sam spoke up before an argument could break out, “How’d you track ‘em here? The Flag Smashers?”

“Uh, no, we didn’t track them. We tracked you, uh, through Redwing,” Walker’s friend answered, dipping his head down to avoid Sam’s stony gaze.

“You hacked my tech?” “Sorry,” Walker laughed, “It’s not exactly hacking. It’s government property,” he gestured to himself, “Kind of the government.” My lips parted and I tilted my head, ”Are you kidding me?”

“I’m sorry,” Walker extended his hand out to me, “John Walker, Captain America. And you are?” I glanced between his hand and him, “Not impressed.” He awkwardly retracted it and turned away from me to Bucky, “Does he always just stare like that?” “You get used to it,” Sam replied, suddenly he had no problem with Bucky’s habit.

“Okay, look,” Walker cleared his throat, “You know things have gotten kind of, uh…” “Chaotic,” his friend finished for him.

“Yeah. The GRC, they’re doing the best they can to get things up and running smoothly, post Blip.” “Reactivating citizenship, social security, healthcare. Basically just managing resources for the refugees who were displaced by the return.”

“The Global Repatriation Council does all that, I get that,” Sam said impatiently, “So why exactly are you two here?”

“Well, they provide the resources and we keep things stable,” the soldier answered.

“Yeah, violent revolutionaries aren’t usually good for anyone’s cause,” Walker said. “Usually said by the people with the resources,” Sam looked up from the work he was doing on my leg to look dead at Walker.

“We got a lot of resources,” he stated confidantly, “If you guys, if you joined up with us, we could-“ “No,” Bucky and I said in unison, now having agreed on two things. Walker was a phony and wizards weren’t real.

“I got mad respect for both of ya’ll,” Walker’s friend complimented, “You too, ma’am. But you were kinda getting your asses kicked till we showed up.” Bucky finally dragged his stare off of Walker, “Who are you?” “Lemar Hoskins.” “Look, I see a guy hanging out of a helicopter in tactical gear, I need a lot more than Lemar Hoskins,” Sam commented.

“I’m Battlestar,” Lemar reintroduced himself, “John’s partner.” “‘Battlestar?’” Bucky echoed the ridiculous nickname, snapping his head suddenly toward the driver, “Stop the car!”

The driver obeyed and quickly halted in the middle of the road, giving Bucky the opportunity to jump out of the car. He raised his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for me to join him but I wasn’t about to leave Sam’s side. I held a hand up to him to which he responded by closing the back door and starting down the path that veered off the main road.

“Look, I…I get it, okay? I get the attitude, I do,” Walker started, he couldn’t come close to understanding how insulted all three of us were for one uniting reason, “You don’t think that the shield was gonna end up here. I get it, Bucky,” even the call of his name wasn’t enough to make him stop, “And I’m…I’m not trying to be Steve. I’m not trying to replace Steve.” “Could’ve fooled me,” I snorted, removing my leg from Sam’s lap as he’d stopped rubbing it long ago. “I’m just trying to be the best Captain America I can be, that’s it,” Walker focused his eyes on my brother, “It’d be a whole lot easier if I had Cap’s wingmen on my side.” Sam scoffed and looked out of the corner of his eyes at me as if to make sure he hadn’t heard incorrectly. He hadn’t, and I was about two seconds away from putting my powers to good use and beating Walker with his own shield that he could never truly hold ownership of. “It’s always that last line…”

Sam climbed over me and hopped out first before helping to lower me to the ground. A defeated Walker ordered the driver to leave and we watched to make sure they actually left for good. “Torres said he’s nice?” I asked sarcastically as we resumed our familiar posture of Sam helping me walk. “Torres is young, impressionable and follows every order he’s given. Guys like Walker have a problem with anyone who doesn’t take their every word as gospel.”

“Well, your mom made us attend enough church when we were kids for me to know that right there,” I pointed back to the car that was now a dot in the distance, “Is a false prophet.”

I trained my eyes ahead of us, Bucky hadn’t gotten too far and it looked like he had actually slowed his pace for us to catch up easier. While I was angry with the government for appointing Walker and the man himself, I knew that the pain Sam and Bucky were feeling was exponentially heavier to deal with. They’d already lost their friend and Walker was the salt being rubbed in the wound.

When we did eventually make it to the plane an hour later, I was biting back tears at how much pain I was in. Sam took notice of how I was trying to conceal them as we approached the tarmac and carried me the rest of the way.

“I gotta check for any internal bleeding,” he said as he set me down gently on the seats of the jet, “And you’re going home.” “No, I’m not,” I moaned. “Yes, you are,” he scolded as he lifted up my shirt to the bottom of my bra so that he could get a clear view of my abdomen, “Sarah’s gonna pound my ass into the ground as it is for bringing you back bruised.” My eyes could no longer stay opened, further fluttering shut as I didn’t hear Sam state that he saw anything concerning. “Get some sleep,” he ordered, “I’ll take care of anything I find.” Just before I drifted off, I heard a second body kneel down next to Sam. “She okay?” “Yeah, she’ll be fine,” he answered Bucky, “I just should have never brought her.”

————

When I did wake up, the plane was dark except for the minimal lighting towards the cockpit. I attempted to sit up, biting back a groan as I did. There was a blanket draped over my bottom half and my jacket was now folded underneath my head as a makeshift pillow. Sam was sleeping upright near my feet, arms crossed and snoring quietly.

“Glad to see you’re okay,” a quiet voice startled me, I turned to see it was Bucky. “A little out of my depth,” I remarked, rubbing one of my eyes, “But yeah, okay.”

Bucky nodded and looked back down at his folded hands, for some reason the contrast of the gold and black metal meeting the pale flesh fascinated me. He must’ve sensed I was staring because he peered up at me through his lashes. I quickly looked away, “I’m guessing we’re on our way back to New Orleans.” “Baltimore, actually,” he replied.

“What’s in Baltimore?” I whispered, trying not to wake Sam. “Someone that Sam needs to meet.” “Okay,” I slowly swung my legs off the seats to properly face him, “Who’s in Baltimore?” Bucky gave me a tired look, “Just someone, you’ll meet him too.” I bristled slightly at his answer, shooting him a half smile. “You don’t trust people, do you, Barnes?”

I wouldn’t call what his lips did was a smile, but maybe a sarcastic knock off of one. “You ask a lot of questions, you know?”

“Only when people don’t give me any answers,” I fired back in a contradictorily easy tone, “Look, you don’t have to trust me. That’s fine, I’m going home after whatever surprise you have for us anyway so you won’t have to deal with me slowing you guys down anymore.” “Sam was endangering you by bringing a civilian to an Avengers level fight,” he quickly said, “That’s on him, not you. And none of us were exactly at our best today.” A supercut of the three of us each getting slapped around silly on top of the trucks played in my mind. He was definitely right, nobody could have predicted that we’d be thrown for such a loop. Not even the man pretending to be Captain America. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry about Walker,” I offered as softly as I could, “I’ve watched him parade that shield around on tv for days and I’ve gotten angrier each time. Not saying it’s the same as what you’re feeling but…I’m just sorry.” Bucky didn’t respond, he actually looked away from me and back down at his hands. “You should get some more sleep, we’re still a ways out.” It was clear I wasn’t going to get anywhere with him, not that I felt any burning desire to try to get him to open up. I’d only tried out of politeness and the slight glimmer of curiosity I held when it came to what lay beneath his hardened surface. “Goodnight, Barnes,” I said, laying back down and rolling over so I didn’t have to look at him any longer.

----

A/N: Let me know what you thought and/or if you’d like to be tagged! There’s still a lot of surprises that are coming...

Safe Haven taglist: @tanyaherondale @wanniiieeee @asoftie4bucky @edencherries @i-reblog-fics-i-like @ttalisa @gcfty @withyoutilltheendofthismess @rinaispunk @weirdowithnobeardo @felicityofbakerstreet @godlypotterwhodiaries @eternalharry @voguesir @mizz-kraziii @okayline @smellmymisunderstoodfluff @wanderin-stories @nicklet94 @intricate-melody @aesthethickks @stumbleonmywords @simplybarnes @21bruhs @lostinwonderland314 @superbookishhufflepuff @themaddies-obx

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x platonic!reader #marvel imagine

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

https://wiypt-writes.tumblr.com/post/644486634874847232/stark-spangled-banner

Ch58: You Have To Go Through The Worst, To Get To The Best.

Intro: In the aftermath of the battle, Katie grieves for Tony as the world comes to terms with the fact that people they lost five years ago have reappeared.

Warnings: “Language!”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: This is it! We head into the last part and as such, a brand new banner again from @angrybirdcr. Only a few chapters left.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 57

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Sorry for your loss.

Four words that Katie was already sick of hearing. Sorry. What did people have to be sorry for? It wasn’t like it was their fault. Still, she acknowledged the sympathy that came her way, completely automatically, almost emotionlessly. She barely registered the fact she had spoken to Fury and Hill, two people who had been dead five years ago, she didn’t have the energy to wish she could knock Ross’ head off his shoulders and had no idea how long she had walked what was left of the compound, maybe an hour or so? Who cared anyway? She simply did what people asked her to do to help out, whilst Steve hurried around organising everyone and barking orders.

Nevertheless, when the crowds of Emergency Services, Armed Forces and Support Staff that had flooded the Compound left, she suddenly felt alone and found herself in their compound apartment, which had miraculously survived bar from a smashed window in the living area. She glanced around before she headed to the bedroom and slumped heavily on the large bed, staring at the wall.

Just staring.

It was quiet, but her mind was anything but. Her brain was screaming all sorts of stuff at her, a jumble of words and sounds and visions, but she couldn’t really understand any of it.

She simply felt broken.

“Katie?”

A voice broke through her reverie and she looked up to see Steve in the doorway.

“Hey.” She gave him a soft smile. “Pepper just spoke to Happy, the kids are fine. All three are fast asleep. He’s going to wake them in a few hours and bring them back.” “No.” Katie shook her head. “I want him to bring them now.” “Honey its almost two am.” He said, and Katie frowned. Okay, so she’d been walking around a little longer than she thought, then. “Let them sleep. We can go, get cleaned up and…” “Plan how we tell them their Uncle is dead.” She swallowed, gazing back down at her hands.

Steve took a shaky breath. He felt beyond guilty. Guilty that he got to go home to his kids because of the fact that Tony didn’t. Steeling himself, he made his way to the bed, sat down next to his wife and wrapped his arm around her as she lay her head on his shoulder.

“What’s everyone doing?” She asked softly.

“Rhodey is in with Ross and President Ellis…” “Ellis is here?” She looked at him, frowning.

Steve nodded. “Rhodey’s giving him a brief on what’s happened. They’re gonna need to put an announcement out so…”

“Suppose it was probably a shock everyone re-appearing again.” She reasoned, quietly. “What about everyone else?”

“Well Lang, Parker and Bruce already left.” Steve explained as his hand gently rubbed up and down her arm. “And there’s a chopper on the way to take Pepper home and a couple more following to take the rest of us to the Tower. The roads are completely jammed, apparently there’s impromptu parties taking place all over. Might be a while before we can get back through to Brooklyn.” The thought of partying seemed alien to Katie, but as she thought about it, it wasn’t surprising. People would be greeting lost loved ones, celebrating the fact the world has returned to normal.

For them anyway.

“Clint will want to go home.” Katie nodded. “He’ll be desperate to see Laura and the kids.” “We’ve got a jet on the way for him so he can go as soon as possible.” Steve soothed, dropping a kiss to her head.

If ever Katie was grateful for having a husband with Military organisational skills it was now. He’d literally thought of everything. She closed her eyes and nuzzled into him even more, seeking out comfort like a child, before Steve reached around and pulled her onto his lap, holding her close to him, as they sat in silence.

****

“I guess this is strange for you too, huh?” Steve said as they made their way into the Tower. “Yeah you could say that.” Sam shrugged, “One minute everyone was in Wakanda and then the next minute it was just us, and the jungle had changed.” He paused, scratching his head. “Then that Strange dude turns up and tells us it’s been five years and we needed to go fight one last time.”

“Has it really been that long?” Bucky asked and Steve nodded. “So now you’re older than me?” He grinned. Steve chuckled as Katie gave a small smile. “Shut up.”

They made their way into the elevator and FRIDAY greeted them, somewhat forlornly, as Katie asked for their floor. The elevator fell silent as it scooted upwards, pinging open. Katie stepped out first, followed by Wanda then the men.

“So, where do you want-“Bucky began but he stopped dead causing Sam to bump into him.

“What the hell, Frosty?” he spluttered, frowning as he followed Bucky’s eye line, his own eyes growing wide as he saw what Bucky was staring at. Wanda was also gazing, her mouth open, and Steve immediately knew what they were looking at- the large framed photo on the wall in the living room.

Even though their home was in Brooklyn this was still very much their apartment. Katie sometimes stayed if she had a big meeting, or on occasions they would crash here when they grabbed a rare night out in Manhattan. And it was for that reason that the photos in the apartment had been updated over the past five years as their lives had moved on. The wall their friends were gazing at contained two prints. The first was one taken by Katie at the hospital when Jamie was hours old, the same photo also adorned the wall in the lounge at home and it showed Steve asleep in the chair by her hospital bed, hair unkempt, shirt crumbled, stubble on his chin as his baby son was clutched to his chest as they both slept. He remembered the moment like it was yesterday, one snapshot moment out of God knows how many, all of which the three people stood in front of him had missed.

The second was from last year, and showed Emmy with Alex as they sat on the sofa at home, both grinning at the camera.

“You…” Sam gasped as Wanda and Bucky turned to them, mouth hanging open.

Steve nodded, “Yeh, err, did no one tell you?” He asked, rubbing his neck.

“No.” Bucky breathed.

“But then it never really cropped up in conversation, you know, on account of us being in the middle of a battle and all.” Sam said, a little sarcastically and Wanda thumped his arm before she turned to Katie.

“How old?” She asked softly.

“Emily is sixteen next week.” Katie said, looking at the photos smiling softly. “We adopted her after the snap, it’s a long story.”

She then looked at Steve who smiled, knowing she was allowing him the task of revealing their boy’s name to two of the men he was named after.

“And Jamie’s three.” He turned to look at Bucky and Sam.

“Jamie?” Bucky asked thickly.

“Or to give him his full name James Anthony Samuel.”

Bucky and Sam exchanged a look, the pair of them floundering for words.

“Cap,” Sam swallowed, his eyes misting over. “Wow, I’m so happy for you guys.” “I can’t wait to meet them.” Wanda beamed.

“You might regret saying that.” Steve chuckled. “Emmy’s a sass bag and Jamie can be a handful. He’s only three but he’s stubborn, opinionated- don’t even say it.” He pointed at Bucky who had opened his mouth to comment, a grin spreading across his handsome face.

“They’re awesome.” Katie spoke softly as her eyes moved round the apartment and fell on a photo of her and Tony taken at her wedding. Suddenly she couldn’t be there anymore. Excusing herself she headed into their bedroom where she flopped onto the bed, now feeling utterly overwhelmed, still struggling to make head or tail of her emotions. She should have been celebrating like everyone else in the streets was doing. Their friends and trillions of other people were saved, but she couldn’t because again, just like the other week when they had grieved for Natasha, there was one person who wasn’t coming back.

Her brother.

Taking a deep breath, she shed her boots before she stood up and peeled off her cat suit before she made her way straight into the en-suite.

She turned the shower on as hot as she could stand, an attempt to sooth the pain she now felt in every inch of her body. But whilst some of it was bruising from the multiple blows she had taken, some of it was coming from inside. The pain of losing her brother was physical, and hard. Closing her eyes she lay her head against the tiles, allowing the water to beat down on her, lost in her memories. “I got full marks on my English essay Tone!” Her 10 year old self grinned up at him as he leaned against the car, looking as effortlessly cool as ever.

“Get you, you little brainbox!” He ruffled her hair. “That’s awesome, so awesome in fact I think we need to stop for pizza and a shit load of ice cream on the way home. Sound good?” “You’re the best!” She beamed as he took her pink back-pack off her and dropped it into the trunk as she climbed into the passenger seat of his BWM.

“Oh no, you are not going out wearing that!” Tony stod up as she walked into the living room of the house. Sixteen year old Katie rolled her eyes.

“Tone its boiling hot outside, what you want me to wear? A pair of jeans and a fucking coat?” “Anything but that!” He scoffed, looking at the rather short denim skirt. “Young Lady, I can see what you had for breakfast!”

“Oh bite me, Tony.” She shot back, hearing the guffaw that Rhodey gave out from the sofa before she shot out of the front door to greet her boyfriend who had just pulled up the drive.

She was eighteen…, cruising along the cliff in Malibu, laughing, her hands on the steering wheel of her convertible bug, Tony in the passenger seat sipping an iced tea as the pair of them sang as loudly as they could to Drops of Jupiter- their song.

“Mr Rock and Roll over there, listen to you!” She laughed as the song finished and it changed to AC/DC ‘Thunder’.

“If you ever tell anyone about my love of Train I will kill you.” Tony looked at her over his sunglasses and she snorted, grinning.

“I’m so telling Pepper.”

“Err you know I can still pull my funding.” He glared “You can kiss goodbye to going to Oxford…”

And speaking of Oxford, at twenty-one, she was there, accepting her first class honours in English Literature and Mythology. As she smiled for the camera, she could see Tony stood up in the middle of the hall, whistling before he punched the air. “That’s my girl!” He yelled “Katie Maria Stark. That’s my girl! No I won’t sit down…what did you just say?” And he began arguing with the person behind him.

At twenty-six she was crying, tears of happiness as the ramp on the aircraft carrier opened to reveal her brother. His hair was longer, he looked thinner but he was alive. He was barely at the bottom before she flung herself at him, not caring that his arm was a sling.

“Hey Kiddo.” He said softly as she buried her face into his neck.

“You fucking asshole!” She sobbed, “Next time, you ride with Rhodey, you got that?”

“Trust me, there will be no next time.” He chuckled as she pulled back. “Afghanistan is a shit hole.”

A year later she was crying again, sobbing even, as Tony sat with his arms around her, gently shushing her as she sat up in her bed. “How could he do that to me Tony?” She sniffed, her tears dampening her brother’s t-shirt as he rubbed her back, laying his head against hers. “I thought he loved me…but…” “He isn’t worth your tears, Kiddo.” He sighed “Grant Ward doesn’t deserve them, or you. No one ever will, you got that? No one will ever be good enough for you.”

And then she was walking up the aisle towards her future husband, her arm linked tightly around Tony’s. He pressed a kiss to her head.

“Remember, just because I’m giving you away doesn’t mean I won’t kick his ass if he ever hurts you.” Tony mumbled and she snorted, turning to look at him. “I love you to the stars and back, Katie, remember that…”

Like she could ever forget. Tony hadn’t been to everyone’s taste, hell, at times he hadn’t be hers, and they’d been estranged for two years. But Katie had never, not once, stopped loving the man who had brought her up as his own. Her brother and father all rolled into one.

She finished washing her hair and stepped out of the shower, the tears still not arriving. She began to wonder if there was something wrong with her. She’d cried more when Natasha died. She pulled on a towel robe that was hanging behind the door and began to dry her hair, squeezing the water out of the long strands.

“I remember when you used to do that for me.” She grinned, watching Tony as he sat with Morgan between his legs on the lounger round the pool at her Brooklyn home, rubbing the little girl’s wet hair ferociously with a pink beach towel, making the three year old cackle with laughter. I remember…but Morgan won’t.

And then the cry ripped from her chest, like someone had reached down her throat and pulled it from the very depths of her heart.

***** Steve made sure the guys were settled in a spare apartment a few floors down, the three of them opting to share, none of them particularly wanting to be alone. Making his way back into theirs, he headed straight to the bedroom and heard Katie turn off the water to the shower. With a groan he stripped off the top half of his uniform, dropping the grubby item to the bed. His eyes were drawn to the silver star in the middle, and he ran his fingers over it, the material torn in places having seen better days, much like him.

With a deep breath he reached to pull off his compression shirt, but before he got chance, he heard a noise from the bathroom, a primal, raw, broken scream that chilled his every bone. Quick as flash he crossed the room and pushed open the door to the en-suite and found his wife slumped on her knees on the floor, screaming and crying uncontrollably.

“He’s gone! He’s gone, he’s gone!” Steve had known this was coming and it broke his heart that he could do nothing to help, nothing to take away the utter desperation and pain and anger his wife was feeling. Without hesitation he dropped to his knees and she turned to him, fisting her hands around his top as he pulled her close, one arm round her back, the other in her hair.

“Let it out,” his voice was croaky as he rocked her, gently stroking her hair as his cheek pressed against the top of her head, “I got you, sweetheart, I got you.” How long they stayed there for, with Katie screaming and crying over the soft sounds of his soothing, Steve had no idea, but eventually her sobs became sniffles as she regained some form of composure.

“Steve,” she managed to stutter as she pulled back to look at him, “Tony’s gone, he’s gone, why? Why did he have to do that? There had to be some other way!” “Oh, Doll.” Steve’s voice cracked, his own heart ached with grief and sympathy and love as he dropped a kiss to her forehead, pulling her onto his lap as he sat back on the floor, making no attempts to move her. He buried his face into her hair, his own sobs catching in his throat.

“All my life Tony has been there.” She whispered gently as kissed her head. “Even when we were apart those years I knew that if I needed him, he would be there…but now…he’s gone and I don’t know what to do.”

“You do what you always do.” Steve whispered softly as he pulled back, cupping her face in his hands, wiping her tears with his thumbs. “You get up, you dust yourself off and you act like the amazing, strong, beautiful woman you are. My wife, my baby momma.”

“I don’t know if I can. Katie spluttered.

“Yes, you can. You’re the strongest person I know.” He implored her, sniffing a little.

“I don’t feel strong.”

“You won’t.” He shook his head. “Not yet. But I’m here. Okay? And we’ll do it together.”

Katie looked at him for a moment before she moved once more to bury her face into his t-shirt again, simply breathed him in. His warmth and familiar smell, even if he wasn’t as fresh as he could be after the exertion of battle, was a comfort, a balm to her broken soul.

Tony was gone, she knew that, but she wasn’t on her own. She’d never be on her own as long as she had Steve.

****

“Don’t be sad Momma.” Jamie whispered, as Katie’s tears tickled down her cheeks, her son on her lap. TO her right, Emmy sat on her father’s, despite her age meaning she was normally way past that stage, as she cried into his chest, his arms gently cradling her. “Uncle Nee isn’t on his own.” “What do you mean, baby?” Katie asked, sniffing as he played with a strand of her hair.

He looked at her with his baby blue eyes and shrugged, as if the answer was obvious. “Because he’s with Auntie Nat-Nat.”

“Yeah,” Katie stuttered, a soft sob escaping her. “You’re right. But I’m still sad, but you don’t need to be worried about that okay?” Jamie nodded, before he blinked and frowned. “I can kiss it better, like you kiss my ouches better.”

Katie smiled as he leaned up, connecting his lips to hers with a loud smacking noise.

“That’s it, you just made it all okay.” She smiled, wiping her eyes.

“When can we go home?” Emmy asked, sitting up slightly, her voice croaky.

“Soon, I promise.” Steve looked at her. “I think we’ll stay here for tonight, your mom and I both need a rest.”

Emmy nodded “I expect kicking alien butt for hours takes it out of you.” Steve snorted. “A little.” “You did it though. Everyone came back.” “Yeah, and on that note,” Katie picked up, “we have some people we’d like you to meet. That’s if you’re feeling up to it.” “Is it them? Bucky, Sam and Wanda?” Emmy asked, her wet brown eyes opening wide.

“Yeah.” Steve smiled. “And, if it’s ok with you, we thought we could all have breakfast together.”

“Pancakes?” Jamie asked hopefully and Katie nodded, dropping a kiss to his head.

“Pancakes” She affirmed.

“Now?”

“Do you ever think about anything but this?” Katie chuckled, prodding his tummy. He pondered for a second.

“Legos.” he said, nodding. “I think about my legos sometime.”

Emmy snorted and Steve let out a little laugh “Pancakes and legos eh, son?” he reached out and ruffled Jamie’s hair. “What more could a three year old want?”

****

Manhattan was in utter chaos and going out in public was the last thing Steve or Katie wanted for fear of being mobbed. However, the kitchens in the tower were well stocked and after sending Emmy to forage what she could, it was easy for Katie to whip up a batch of batter and throw some bacon into a pan.

She set Emmy to work chopping some fruit, and never one to miss out, she stood Jamie on a chair in front of her and gently guided his hand as he held the whisk to stir the batter. Katie was literally grabbing the ladle to drop the first load into the pan, when the door to the apartment opened and Steve’s voice carried in to the kitchen.

“Hey guys?” Jamie squealed in excitement and Katie moved so he could get down. He shot out of the kitchen, barrelling into the lounge where he skidded to a halt by his dad and gazed up at the three strange adults in front of him.

The first thing that hit Bucky was just how like Steve the little boy was. Stocky, bright blue eyes and a shock of dark blonde hair.

“He looks like you.” He smiled, nodding to Steve as Katie stepped into the room with Emmy and smiled.

“Jamie, Emmy, this is Bucky, Sam and Wanda.” Steve introduced them all, as Emmy raised her hand shyly in greeting.

Meanwhile, Jamie simply gazed up at Bucky, his attention focussed directly on his metal arm and Bucky suddenly began to worry that it would scare him. He was attempting to move it out of view by standing side on, until Jamie stepped forward with all his usual boldness and pointed.

“Is that metal?” “Jamie.” Steve spoke, his tone soft. He couldn’t scald his son for being curious, but at the same time he had seen the apprehension in Bucky’s eyes. Apprehension that had now turned to amusement.

“Yeah it is.” Bucky chuckled, crouching down so he was eye level with his namesake. He held his left hand up, wiggling the fingers. “Wanna touch it?” Jamie reached out and placed his palm against Bucky’s prosthetic and grinned, “Cool,” before he looked up at Steve. “Can I have one?”

“Absolutely not.” Steve shook his head with a grin.

“You think that’s cool you should see my wings.” Sam crouched down next to Bucky, smiling at Jamie.

“You have wings?” The little boy’s eyes grew wide “I want…”

“No!”

“Fine I’ll just ask Santa.” Jamie shruggged and Sam let out a loud laugh.

“I like this kid!” he grinned, standing up.

“You can have him.” Steve winked, as Bucky stood up straight and grinned. “Saves us sending him to The Children’s Prison.” “Morgan told me there’s no such place.” Jamie looked at his Dad and Steve let out a sigh. The threat of the Child Prison was their biggest bargaining chip when he was being naughty. Especially as the naughty step wasn’t an option, because the first (and last) time they tried that they caught him climbing up the staircase and sliding down the bannister.

“I told you titch, it does.” Emmy gave a dramatic roll of her eyes. “I lived there before mom and dad adopted me. And all they give you to eat all day is slugs and slime…” Steve shared a look with Bucky and let out a loud laugh.

“Don’t.” Bucky shook his head with a grin.

“You gave Becca nightmares for days with that story!” Steve laughed as he recalled Bucky telling his sister about a hole in the ground where bad kids went. “She wouldn’t go near a manhole for months!”

“I can still feel the blow round the ears my Pa gave me.” Bucky automatically reached up to rub at the back of his head. The well natured chatter continued as they made their way into the kitchen. Steve went to brew the coffee as Sam, Wanda and Bucky took seats round the table with the kids. Occasionally he caught the odd snippet of their chat as Jamie told Bucky about his toys at home, informed Sam all about his friend at day-care, whilst Emmy was busy talking to Wanda about school and what she wanted to do in the future. But all the time Steve had one eye on his wife as she stood, silently, cooking enough pancakes to feed a small army.

Which, to be fair, was probably what they would need with two super soldiers and a hungry three year old to feed.

Moving over towards her, he slipped his arms around her waist and dropped a kiss to her cheek.

“You ok?” He asked, before he sighed “Sorry, stupid question.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No it’s not stupid, I know what you meant. And honestly, no. I’m not. Not really. But I will be, in time. I hope.”

Steve dropped another kiss to her cheek and winced as a loud “GET A ROOM!” sounded across the kitchen and he turned to glare at his son. Bucky and Sam exchanged a gleeful look as Steve raised his hand and pointed at Emmy accusingly. “That was not me!” She scoffed, indignantly “It was Bucky that told him to say it.” “If this is the impression you have on my kids after all of fifteen minutes, James Buchanan Barnes, then I’m going to have to seriously consider letting you near them again.” Katie shook her head as she dropped the plate of pancakes into the middle of the table.

“Why did you just call him James?” Jamie asked, frowning

“Because my name is James too.” Bucky answered for Katie.

“No, it’s Bucky.”

“He only gets called James when he’s been bad, bit like you, pal.” Steve chuckled, placing Jamie’s plate of food in front of him. “Now eat that, and then you can show Buck your legos.”

“My legos are here?” Jamie said, grinning.

“Yeah they’re in your bag, we brought them from the compound.” Steve answered, dropping a kiss to his son’s head.

“What the hell is a Lego?” Bucky asked, his face contorted in confusion. The room feel silent as all eyes turned to the man who glanced around, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “What?” ****

Rhodey called later that morning to give them a heads up that the President would be addressing the nation later that afternoon, and to also inform Katie that they were talking about honouring both Tony and Natasha posthumously. Katie had merely snorted, not entirely sure what Tony would have said about any of that, until Rhodey made her laugh about the last time he had received an honour, getting stabbed with the pin by the Senator awarding it to him, Senator Stern.

Who had turned out to be HYDRA.

True to his word, just as he had done five years ago, President Ellis’ address rang out across the nation at precisely three that afternoon, on every TV and Radio channel there was.

“I know there is much speculation surrounding the events of the last 24 hours, and it is for that reason I find myself addressing you all once more, with regards to the Decimation. Only this time I am happy to greet you all with much better news. Thanks to the brave actions of the Avengers and countless others who fought in a ferocious battle Upstate, the Vanished have been returned to us in the same state in which they left.

But it isn’t without cost.

Unfortunately, I have the very sad job of confirming to you all that the rumours are true. Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff both lost their lives in the mission to bring everyone back. My sincere condolences and thoughts are with the rest of the Avengers, in particular the Rogers and Stark families, and I’m sure I speak for the entire world when I say we will be forever indebted to the two fallen heroes for their brave sacrifices which ensured that friends and families across the globe could be reunited.”

Katie glanced down at her hands as she took a deep breath, the tears falling into her lap as Steve’s arm curled round her shoulder, sniffing a little as his own eyes were once again misted over.

“I know you will all have many questions, some of you will be at a loss as to what to do, and unfortunately I don’t have all the answers, so it is for that reason, if I may, I’d like to address those who have been returned to us.

Over the past five years the world has become a very different place to the one you knew. People lost entire families, friends, husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends. We had to rebuild, make sense of living without you. So I ask you , please be patient with us whilst we try once more to make sense of events, only this time they are a lot happier as you have all been returned to us. Don’t take it too personally if we seem a little, well, astounded.”

Ellis paused, wiping his eyes as he smiled, licking his lips.

“Thank you all, God Bless America, and God Bless the Avengers.”

****

That night fireworks exploded across the skies all over the country. The current occupants of the tower sat on the roof watching the symphony of colours and explosions as it light up the Manhattan sky-line, Jamie opting to sit on Bucky’s knee instead of his father’s, because of course Bucky was now his favourite person on the planet.

But Steve didn’t mind, well, not too much anyway.

The next few days passed them by in a bit of a blur. They moved back to the house in Brooklyn. Sam and Bucky came with them. However, surprisingly to Steve (but not to Katie) Wanda opted to head to Clint’s after the archer called and offered her a room. Steve’s time was divided between speaking to the UN, various people in the senate and government alongside Rhodey as they started to make plans to help those people who had returned because reversing the snap had raised a whole cacophony of different problems, just as Tony had predicted it would.

Some of the vanished had come back to find their wives or husbands had re-married. Others found themselves with no-one left as they’d passed away. Some found themselves homeless as new occupants had moved into their apartments which had been left vacant. Two of those people were Peter Parker and his Aunt May, who were now residing in the Tower until Katie could find them somewhere permanent.

And then there were the kids who had been adopted, suddenly finding themselves with two sets of parents.

Katie, on the other hand, had no time or energy for anything other than planning Tony’s funeral with Pepper, and a service of sorts for Natasha with Clint. Natasha’s was to take place first, a small ceremony at Clint’s farm where they would be planting a red maple tree in her honour. Tony’s, however, was slightly more tricky.

Her brother had, at one point, led a very public lifestyle and naturally (even if unfairly) he was attracting the most public interest. They’d been approached by President Ellis, who had asked if they would be open to a full, state public funeral. Katie had been horrified at first, until Pepper had snorted and reminded her that the Old Tony would have loved the attention and fuss.

But New Tony wouldn’t.

Which was why, in the end, they compromised and chose to celebrate the two sides to Tony’s huge personality.

For the Genius, Billionaire, Play-Boy, Philanthropist they would hold a service at St Patrick’s Cathedral and for the husband, father, brother, friend they would then hold a more intimate wake at the lake house, where his ashes would be scattered eventually.

It was draining, emotionally and physically, so it was no surprise to Steve that Katie was constantly tired and a little irritable and the Solider felt the harsh side of her tongue on more than one occasion. But he never bit back, he knew how she was feeling. He’d had to do it with his Ma. Instead he listened to her bounce ideas off him, helped with the organisation where he could, and simply comforted her, holding her close whilst she cried when she needed to.

A week post the return of the Vanished, people seemed to have reached a half-way point, so to speak, between what they had been like before the Snap and what they had become post. But what was noticeable to all of them was that they were persistently mobbed in the street, people wanting to thank them constantly.

Jamie found the whole thing hilarious, waving to people as he walked with his Father one morning to the play-ground. Steve, however, after half an hour had returned home because he couldn’t stand it anymore.

“It’s mad.” He shook his head with a sigh, flopping onto the sofa next to her. “I mean…”

“It’ll die down.” Katie yawned. “Just gonna take a while. People still don’t know what to do. Hell, half the time I don’t know what to do.” She took a deep breath, the back of her hand pressing to her mouth as a queasy feeling washed over her for the umpteenth time that day. “You still feeling crappy?” Steve asked, watching as Jamie sat on the rug with his trucks.

“A little.”

“You thrown up again?” “No.” She shook her head “I don’t feel sick anymore just a little funny, drained almost. I don’t think it’s anything serious. Probably just the stress of all the organising and stuff.”

But as she said the words something in her mind clicked and she sat bolt upright, Steve giving her a curious look.

“What’s wrong?”

“Bruce’s Snap.” She whispered. “The one where he brought everyone back.”

“What about it?”

“What if it brought everyone back?” “Well we know it did…” Steve frowned, not following her line of thought.

“No I mean,” Katie took his hand and placed it on her stomach, “everyone.”

It took Steve a second to cotton on, but when he did he blinked, looking into his wife’s eyes, a faint buzzing ringing in his ears.

“Shit.” He spluttered out.

“Language.” Jamie reprimanded him almost immediately, but both parents ignored him.

“I didn’t,” Steve swallowed, “I mean, I didn’t even consider that a possibility. Do you think it has?”

Katie took a deep breath. “I dunno, I mean the first snap took it away…”

They stayed still for a moment, simply looking at each other, both thinking the same. If one snap had taken their baby, the second snap could quite as easily have brought it back.

“I think I need to go to the store.” Katie muttered.

**** Less than an hour later husband and wife were stood in the bathroom looking down. Down at four different tests. Four different tests that all told them the same thing.

“I can’t believe it.” Steve whispered, his arms wrapping around his wife from behind as he stared down at the test in her hand.

“Me neither.” She whispered, turning to face him, tears in her eyes.

“I’m gonna be a daddy, again.” His hands fell to her hips, blue eyes shining as she gave him a smile, the tears falling down her face.

“And I’m gonna be fat again.” She spluttered, a watery laugh. There was a pause, before Steve’s face cracked into a huge grin and he pulled her to him. She wrapped her arms round his neck and he hugged her close, the pair of them laughing through their tears.

“I like you fat with my kid.” Steve pulled away, wiping the tears that were trickling down her face with his thumbs. She smiled and returned the gesture, brushing the back of her hand over his wet cheeks.

“I love you. So fucking much.” He whispered softly as he dropped a kiss to her lips.

“I love you too.” Her voice croaked before Steve pulled her close once more, his huge arms holding her tightly to him, as he breathed her in, his face pressing into her hair.

And for the first time in a week, Katie’s heart felt a little less broken.

**** Chapter 59

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years

Text

Natasha x Romanoff : Escape

Summary: The Red Room haunts you, from the moment you stepped foot inside to long after you’ve left. Truth is, you don’t think there is any escaping it.

Warnings: 18+ Violence, Depression, Mentions of Death, Smut

!!Final Chapter!!

Chapter 16

******

Three broken bones.

They’d need to be reset and wrapped but due to your enhanced abilities they would heal quickly.

For now though they sit under an ice pack.

While you’re use to damage being done to your body in combat, the last circumstance you expected to be injured in was holding your wife’s hand.

Natasha had gripped your hand with not a single regard to the pained expression on your face and you’d paid very little attention to the damage she had done. Between her screams and the doctors calmed words you couldn’t care less.

Even after she had let it go and slumped in exhaustion you worked through the pain. With the sounds of your child crying, you hurry to the foot of the bed, picking up the scissors as instructed and cut the umbilical chord.

Now you watch as the doctor and nurses follow the basic procedure of weighing and cleaning your baby, and also attending to Natasha.

Part of you feels a little useless as you stand to the side but more than anything you’re happy and concerned, slightly nervous. You really just want to hear that your wife will recover properly and that your baby is in perfect health.

As you wait for the nurses to finish up, you run the cool damp rag over your wife’s forehead, wiping away the sweat that had built up. You place a gentle kiss on her head, brushing away almost dried tears and loose strands of hair.

“I’m so proud of you lyubov moya, I love you so much.” You whisper praise and honest words into her hair.

Natasha gives a sleepy smile to you,“ I love you too.” She sighs, eyes closing.

Her rest hasn’t even begun before the nurses are stepping over with your baby.

“Congratulations on your healthy baby girl.” The nurse speaks through the mask.

She eases your little girl into the open arms of your teary eyed wife. They both handle the baby with care and gentleness, treating her as if she’s porcelain. She’s more precious than that and you know it, which is what makes you even more nervous.

During the pregnancy you had done everything you could to care for the baby and Natasha. Making sure Natasha ate properly and was equally as active as she was relaxing. Staying awake a littler longer than Natasha to ensure she remained comfortable and in the proper position while asleep.

All of that still hadn’t prepared you for this moment. Nothing truly could have but that’s usually the case.

“Y/N,” swallowing, you focus on your wife as she sits up to hand your daughter to you.

That phrase repeats itself in your head as you accept her.

Your daughter. You make sure her head is rested properly on your arm.

Your daughter. You press her close to your chest to ensure she’s warm and safe.

Your daughter.

A soft, almost inaudible coo escapes her lips. She just barely wiggles in your arms. And then those little eyes open.

When those emerald orbs stare back at you it’s an other worldly feeling. The emotions that swirl through your chest explode and fill you from head to toe.

It was undeniable that Natasha’s green eyes could motivate you to move mountains. For the same green eyes that belonged to your daughter, you swore you would move the universe.

“She has your eyes.” You breathe.

Natasha chuckles softly, mesmerized by the sight of you.

The red head remembers every bit of your panic and nervousness the months prior to this.

Staying up for hours reading pregnancy and child care books. Scurrying through the house to child proof every inch of it. Waking up in the middle of the night just to run your fingers over her stomach and make sure she and the baby were okay.

Admittedly Natasha had felt a little guilty during her pregnancy. There wasn’t a moment that you weren’t by her side. You attended to her cravings and the sporadic changes in her body, whether she was in pain or she needed you to fuck her into oblivion, without a second thought.

With each symptom that came with each trimester you adjusted and did everything in your power to be there for Natasha and ultimately your child. And she didn’t miss the sleepiness that lingered in your eyes or the tired sighs you let out every so often.

It brought the woman to tears more often than she’d like to admit, most times resulting in you trying to comfort her, which just made her cry more. She genuinely felt as if she was asking too much of you.

But you reassured her, after she finally broke and told you how she was feeling, that you would do it all again in an instant(part of you thinking of the chance of you having to do it again should you both decide to have another child) because you love her and your baby.

Every little move and decision you had made, despite your worry and doubt in yourself, you’d done it all because you love her and your daughter, and it all lead to this moment.

Right now, with your daughter cradled to your chest and love radiating off of you, Natasha knows that you’re going to be the greatest mother.

In the passing hours you both easily lose yourselves in her presence. Even as the nurses come in and out of the room to check on you all, has you sign all the necessary papers, and guide Natasha with breastfeeding, you remain completely entranced by the tiny human.

So much so that you’d forgotten about your friends and family out in the waiting room. One look at the clock reveals that they had indeed been waiting for ten hours.

Before you do anything you check with Natasha. If she says she’s too tired you’ll tell them to go home until she’s ready. But the excitement of seeing her family meet her daughter keeps her awake.

Fingers wringing together in excitement and remaining waves of nervousness, you step out the room and walk down the hall.

No one notices you at first, giving you a moment to take in all the support you and Natasha have.

The large waiting room is nearly full of Avengers and friends alike. Right beside the door sits the Captain himself clutching an adorable brown teddy bear. The three chairs beside him are occupied by the Starks: Tony sips from a cup of coffee with his arm thrown over his daughter, who is holding a slightly used white bunny rabbit with her mother on her opposite side.

Along the wall opposite the door sits the Bartons. Clint’s leg bounces up and down, Laura’s hand placed on the still one. Their children sit beside each other on Laura’s side, an assortment of balloons and flowers with them.

Bucky, Sam, Wanda, Carol, and Peter sit in the center of the room, the first holding a gift basket as a bag sits beside Carol’s foot. Lastly, seated behind them across three chairs is Bruce. It’d been years since you’d seen him in normal human form but it doesn’t surprise you that he chose this particular occasion to down size.

Making yourself known, you step into view. You’d never seen the group of heroes move so quickly before. They gather around you, an array of questions flying from their lips that causes you to smile.

“Calm down guys please.” Despite them shutting up, you still see the way they physically can’t calm.“ I am pleased to announce the birth of our perfectly healthy baby girl, Annalise Romanoff-Y/L/N.”

The nurses are not happy with the cheer that bursts over the group and you’re quick to silence them.

From there you bring back a few people at a time. The first group of course being Clint, Steve, and Tony.

You enjoy seeing the big bad super solider get so nervous when Annalise is placed in his arms, you imagine that’s how you look if not more nervous when you hold her. And of course Clint and Tony handle her with the care of that of a father.

The next group is Pepper, Morgan, Laura, Wanda, and Carol. Pepper and Laura, while very much in love with Annalise already, spend more time than the others checking in with Natasha. Which is to be expected, they’re the only ones who truly understand how wracking this all has been for Natasha.

In groups of three, the last of your visitors come in. All of which want to hold your daughter. Except for Bucky, Morgan, and little Nathaniel. Truthfully you weren’t too sure about letting Peter hold her as he was more than a little nervous, you didn’t want the jumpy boy to drop your daughter so you sat him down before handing her over.

Like all things, visitation comes to an end. Natasha loses her last bits of strength to stay awake and after another feeding she and Annalise are asleep.

Of course you are tired, you’d woken up at three in the morning and have been alert and slightly on edge for ten hours. Still you stay awake, eyes spending equal amounts of time looking at your wife and daughter.

Standing guard in the hospital room probably wasn’t necessary and you definitely need the sleep but you’ve already vowed in yourself to give anything for your girls. And it starts right now.

***** ***** *****

“Heads up Mama!”

Looking up at the sound of your wife’s voice, you catch the sight of your little girl quickly coming your way. You set down your drink, stand up, and scoop her into your arms.

“What can I do for you little miss?” You ask, earning a toothy grin from her.

She buries her face in your neck seeing Natasha walk over, mumbling,“ want juice pop.”

Your wife rolls her eyes in mock annoyance, a smile instantly taking over her face.

“Have I missed something?” You look from your daughter to your wife.

The older redhead nods,“ yes in fact you have. She wanted a snack and I pulled out her carrots and she took off toward you hoping to get a juice pop.”

There’s no denying that Annalise has both you and Natasha wrapped around her little fingers, and at the young age of three she knows exactly who to go to to get what she wants.

You give Natasha a pout,“ awe, come on mommy, one little juice pop won’t hurt.”

Hearing that you’re on her side, Annalise sits up and looks at you, before pouting at Natasha as well,“ pease mommy. One little juice pop?”

“I’m a highly trained secret agent and you two think pouts is going to make me crack?” She looks from your e/c eyes to the green eyes of your daughter.

One glance at each other and you’re looking at her with pouts and puppy dog eyes.

“Fine!” Her hands go up in surrender,“ you can have juice pops.”

The two of you waste no time going to get the sugary snacks, Annalise making sure to bring back a strawberry one for your wife as Natasha deemed it her favorite.

It had taken years, for things to finally start to settle. Rebuilding the world takes time, and despite the progress there is still much to be done. But with the compound having been completely redone(with more safety precautions installed than there were to protect the state) the team decided it was time to relax.

With today being ultimately rare, as no one was off on a mission or working in general, Tony called for a picnic at the compound.

Gentle breezes pass through the large field, rustling the surrounding trees and wafting the nearby aromas: smoky scents of cooking meat from the grill, natural fruity tones from the table of healthy snacks and the contrasting sugary scents of the desert table.

Obvious sounds of happiness fill the air. Childish shrieks and squeals come from the bounce castle that the Barton children, Morgan, and Peter occupy. Boisterous laughter from the super soldiers, God, and soldier who stand around the drink coolers. A harmless altercation between Tony and Bruce being instigated by Clint, Happy and Rhodey, that is quickly broken up by their wives as they head over to join Wanda and Carol under the shade.

In this moment, watching all your friends spend the day together and seeing your daughter messily feed your wife a strawberry juice pop, you feel lighter than you ever have.

As a child you were taught that love is for children. Growing up you were trained and made to be a weapon. You’d done horrible things to people both good and bad. And for majority of your life you believed you were destined to do the bidding of the people who enslaved you, destined to live in the darkness you grew accustomed to.

Throughout that darkness there were shimmers of light, sprinkles of hope, and glimpses of a better future.

Natalia had illuminated the darkness that the Red Room subjected you to, little moments together showing you that love isn’t for children.

Natasha pulled you from the shadows HYDRA casted over you, proving that there’s more to you than the bad you’d done for them.

Misses Y/L/N-Romanoff opened the door to a future of happiness you thought to be unattainable.

Each alias belonging to and assisting in the creation that is the woman that single handedly changed your entire life. The woman that loves you unconditionally, that introduced you to the large group of people you call your friends, and gave you your daughter, a gift beyond your wildest dreams.

For the first time ever, with your family and friends surrounding you, you’d felt truly at peace. The demons of your past no longer loomed over you. You’d escaped the darkness they trapped you in. And nothing could mass the love and happiness it brings you.

******

Taglist: @thelastavenger-3000 @aaron-despair @messuhp@izalesbean @bvb-bk @username23345 @sighsam@confusinggemini612 @natasha-danvers @rileigh519@higherfurther-romanova @dynnealberto

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #black widow x reader #black widow #marvel x reader #marvel #mcu x reader #mcu #reader insert #Escape

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dearest-bucky · 4 years

Text

Like real people do (One Shot)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky catches Y/n reading fanfiction about him.

Words: 2.7K

Warnings: None, language?

A/n: I don’t really like this one but since I’m reposting everything 🤷‍♀️ Here ya go, I hope you like it.

Originally posted: July 14, 2020

"What you got there Y/n?"

She knew she was lucky. Having him so near, being able to see every little freckle and scar that littered his skin, being able to feel the heat radiating from his body, it wasn't an everyday occurrence, despite the fact they lived under the same roof.

One of her hands was resting on her lap, fingers itching to move towards him and touch his smooth skin, while the other pressed lightly the gauze on the slash near his collarbone. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she inspected the cut, deciding the number of stitches it needed and her cold breath hit his skin repeatedly, causing goosebumps to erupt on his chest.

"I'm sorry.." her voice was small as she apologized for hurting him after a small wince escaped his parted lips, but he only shook his head, silently encouraging her to continue.

She picked her head up, chancing a look on his face and only then she realized how small the distance between them was and how close they really were to each other. Her lips tilted slightly upwards in a somewhat small smile and a blush crept up her cheeks, another wave of heat emanating from him hitting her and she averted her eyes again, focusing once more on his stab wound.

Another moment passed before she felt his left hand on her cheek, cupping it softly and a chilled shiver ran down her spine from the cool touch, despite the otherwise hot temperature around them. Her breath hitched in her throat as he titled her head up with his hand, their eyes meeting for a short second, before he leaned down ever so slowly, giving her the chance to back away if she wanted.

"Doll..." His voice was but a breath against her trembling lips and her eyes closed with a light flutter, letting herself get lost in his touch. His lips brushed against hers ever so slightly, as if teasing and she couldn't wait until he decided to put an end to their misery and lock their lips in an actual kiss.

The anticipation was scorching her skin and her nerves, and he seemed to read her mind and decide to put her out of her misery because the next second -

With a startle she dropped the spoon she had been previously holding in the cereal bowl, causing the milk to splatter on the counter. She quickly locked her phone and placed in on the counter face down and moved to clean the mess she made with her breakfast.

"Bucky you scared me!" She chastised him, trying to hide the waver in her voice but failing miserably. Not daring to look at him she moved around the kitchen, cleaning the counter and disposing the rest of her breakfast in the sink, her appetite already lost.

Her cheeks darkened with a blush and a wave of heat hit her forcefully, this time from the embarrassment.

She didn't see his face but she could've sworn he was smirking behind her back, enjoying her flustered state too much, just like he always did. She could feel him move around the kitchen too, apparently to fix his own breakfast before one of the bar stools scraped the floor lightly, letting her know he was sitting in her previous spot.

She heard him pour the milk on his own bowl of cereal and she decided now was her best opportunity to leave the kitchen, however Bucky seemed to have other plans for her because just as she made her way towards the door, he called behind her back.

"You never told me what were you reading in your phone." She stopped right in her tracks at the sound of his voice, and she blushed harder than before, if it was even possible at this point. Her back was facing him, so it was easier to avoid his look, also easier to lie to him as she spoke in a rush, right before leaving the kitchen.

"Nothing that concerns you, Barnes."

With rushed steps she walked to her bedroom, seeking a little comfort and privacy away from a certain prying pair of blue eyes. As soon as she closed the door behind her, she leaned against it and let out a long breath, finally able to do so, away from Bucky.

She could practically hear the teasing tone in his voice as he asked her that question and there was no doubt in her mind that he already knew what she had been reading.

She was fucked! Royally so!

If only she'd been a little more careful, but instead she had let herself get lost in the words on her screen and got caught by the man she was reading about.

It had started innocently enough. She had been reading fanfiction about her favorite Star Wars characters a few months ago when she stumbled across a few writings about the Avengers and since then it had been down the rabbit hole for her.

She enjoyed reading about her team mates, usually platonic pairings, she liked the way many talented people wrote and described her friends in a way she never thought possible, they were mostly accurate too.

However her real downfall had been when she found fanfiction about her favorite teammate, Bucky. She had tens of stories saved on her bookmarks, ready to indulge herself in fantasies of him every night before bed.

She would be lying if she said she didn't have feelings for the broody super soldier, but after some light flirting with him and not getting the reaction she had hoped, she'd given up, turning to the imaginary world of fanfiction.

Now their real life relationship remained strictly platonic, despite Y/n's ever present feelings.

She was eating her breakfast alone when a notification popped up on her phone, informing her one of her favorite writers had posted a new story, and being so eager to read, she didn't think about what would happen if anyone found out about her guilty pleasure.

The fact that Bucky was the one to 'catch her in the act' was the worst that could happen and now as she tried to ease her nerves in the privacy of her room, the only thing she could think of was how great it'd be if she could just vanish.

A few days later and Y/n had been avoiding Bucky like the plague, too embarrassed to even face him again. This of course hadn't gone unnoticed neither by the man himself, nor by the rest of the team, that kept sending questioning glances in her direction every time she walked to the common areas.

Once again, she found herself in the confines of her room, this time gathering the courage to walk down to the common areas for the movie night with the team. If it was for her, she'd be glad to stay in for the night, but Tony had insisted it was mandatory for everyone to be there tonight, claiming the team needed a bonding night together after being sent in too many missions the last month.

With another exhaling breath, she walked to the TV room, seeing everyone was already there. Steve, Tony and Natasha were sitting on the big couch, Vision and Wanda on one of the love seats, cuddling under the same blanket, Sam was on the chair alone and Bucky...

Her breath hitched when she saw Bucky sitting alone on the other love seat, the space next to him the only one empty.

"Finally Y/n, we were waiting for you to join us so we can start the movie." Sam was the first to speak up, seemingly a little impatient to start the movie.

"I'm here, I'm here. Now get up from my spot." She replied, trying to maintain a light tone in her voice, but Sam only scrunched his face in annoyance, shaking his head 'no' in response.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting next to Tin Man, he takes too much space." Then with a nonchalant shrug directed her next to Bucky. "You're perfect for that spot though."

She let out a small, silent sigh, not happy at all with Sam, but she didn't say anything anymore, moving to seat on the love seat next to Bucky. Not wanting to raise any more suspicions (as if there weren't enough already) she sat next to him wordlessly, trying to avoid looking directly at him as much as possible.

The movie started and everyone remained silent, except for Sam who'd comment on the characters' actions every now and then.

She'd been sitting stiffly next to Bucky for about twenty minutes, a slight chill caused from the AC running down her spine. Bucky, ever the attentive one, stretched the blanket that was over his lap to her too, helping her get under the warmth of the soft material.

She just gave him a brief look, a small smile forming on her lips as a sign of gratitude and turned her head towards the large screen again.

On the coffee table there were lots of snacks and drinks, but she paid them no mind as she sat next to Bucky, still unable to relax fully despite the softness and warmth of the blanket that was covering her.

As the movie progressed she started to relax a little more with each passing minute. Her phone laid on her lap, above the blanket, the black screen staring up at her. It was the peak of the plot, where the main character finally learned the truth about her family, when she heard the ping of her phone and felt its short vibration on her thigh.

She picked it up in her hand, paying no mind to what it might be, and unlocked it, swiping to see the notification in the notification bar.

Her eyes locked on the screen as she read "writingavengers posted Love Actually, a Bucky Barnes x reader story". Her breath hitched at the words as she tried to play it cool, locking her phone again, but the next thing she did was a bigger mistake. She glanced towards Bucky, only to find him already looking at her intently, an undecipherable look in his face.

She swallowed, her throat feeling suddenly dry and averted her eyes to her lap, where her phone was laying, the screen once again black. Without so much as a word she got up, determined to leave the room, unable to stand being in his presence anymore.

This time she was really screwed.

"Where are you going? The movie isn't over yet."

"Umm... I'm feeling sleepy and I've already watched this movie so I know how it ends." She replied to Natasha and didn't even stop to say 'good night' before practically running out of there.

Back to her room, she cursed herself for unlocking her phone in front of Bucky, then for even taking her phone with her while she was watching the movie. She kept mumbling curses, thinking how would she be able to look at Bucky ever again. He probably thought she was some sick woman who was obsessed with him.

While huffing and puffing on her bed, she heard the hesitant knock on her door and her head snapped towards it, wondering for a moment if she had imagined it, but she was soon proved wrong when another knock was heard, a little more loud.

Y/n let out a sigh, not wanting to see anyone, considering to just not answer at all, whoever it was could wait until tomorrow, but apparently the person behind her door was determined to see her now, as a few more knocks sounded on the wooden surface of her door. With a huff she threw the comforter away and got up from the bed, walking to the door and opening it slowly, her breath catching behind her throat as she saw who was standing on the other side.

"Bucky..." Was the only word she was able to spill out as he entered her room without a word, his face set in an unreadable expression.

He turned to face her when he was inside her room, staring at her, parting his lips as if to say something, but apparently deciding against it as he closed them again.

Not standing the silence and his intense stare on her, she finally gathered some courage to speak first. "Bucky what are you doing here?"

Her tone was calm despite the growing nerves and she finally looked up to his eyes as she waited for a response.

After what felt like an eternity, but only being a couple of minutes of staring at each other, Bucky decided to speak up. "I know what you read on your phone." He said and despite it not being an accusation or nothing of the sort, he winced when he heard how his voice got out, and Y/n's fallen face was proof enough that he was being too harsh, dare he say tactless.

Despite knowing that he already knew, the way he said those words made Y/n's blood leave her face in a rush and she didn't know what to say. What could she even say? 'okay, you caught me!' It was stupid!

Another moment passed before he spoke again, this time in a softer tone. "I searched on the internet and I know all about it. I read a couple of those stories myself." He confessed and she could finally dare to meet his eye again.

A dejected sigh slipped past her lips as she responded. "I'm really sorry Bucky. I swear I'm not some crazy, obsessed girl, I just..." She shut up before she could say something she would regret.

"You just?"

His question was inviting, almost luring her to respond with nothing short of honesty. She let out another sigh as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed, fearing what she had to say would ruin whatever relationship - no matter how platonic - she had with Bucky. At least she could be sitting for when that moment came.

Her hands fell on her lap, fingers curling nervously around each other.

Okay this is it, she thought to herself, the moment of truth. She knew Bucky would probably never talk to her again after this, but she figured it was better to come clean to him once and for all. She looked up at him again, finding him already looking at her, waiting patiently for her to speak.

"The thing is, I really like you Bucky." Here it is! It is out! Now there is no turning back. "I think I actually more than like you..." She blushed as she said those words but she was determined to tell him everything, so she continued. "I have feelings for you, I've had them for sometime but I couldn't tell you that so when I found out about those fictive stories, I found myself surrounded by them, because at least there, there was a chance you liked me back and I lost myself in those fantasies of you and I and what we could be together." As she finished speaking, her head had hung low too, terrified of meeting his eye after this. Bucky had been silent in front of her, too silent, and if it wasn't for her looking directly at his legs, she would have thought maybe he left her room altogether. But he was there, staring her down, listening, thinking.

She couldn't bare to stand the silence anymore, already embarrassed enough, so she got up from her bed and moved to stand in front of him. "I understand if you hate me now and I am really sorry. I never meant to make things so uncomfortable and awkward between us and I promise I'll stop reading those stories -

She didn't get to finish her word as Bucky placed his lips on hers, effectively shutting her up. Her eyes widened for a second, before they fluttered close, surrendering to his kiss.

"I really like you too doll." He whispered against her lips, still not ready to totally part yet. "I'm sorry I'm not the easiest person to talk to and I'm really dense when it comes to love and relationships, but I have liked you since the first day I laid my eyes on you."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Bucky Barnes liked her! Bucky liked her too! She liked Bucky. They liked each other! She wanted to squeal in delight, but she decided against it, opting to go for another kiss instead, happy she was finally able to do that for real.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagines

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jade4813 · 3 years

Text

Questions in Time

Fandom: The Flash

Title: Questions in Time

Rating: G

Pairing: Barry/Iris

Synopsis: Barry and Iris's relationship has been marked by a series of questions. Entry for the 2021 Westallen Alphabet celebration on Tumblr.

“What’s your name?” the young girl asked as she bent to help him gather his things, which lay scattered on the floor from where he dropped them.

He flushed and shot her a quick look. “Barry. Barry Allen. What’s yours?” He mumbled an embarrassed thanks as she placed the last rogue paper on the stack in her hands and passed them over.

She didn’t seem to notice his discomfort or the blush staining his cheeks. “Iris. You’re new here, huh?” At his nod, she rose to her feet and adjusted the weight of the backpack that was slung over one shoulder. “You headed to lunch?” He didn’t even get a chance to answer before she continued in a voice that brooked no argument, “Come on. You can sit with me.”

He straightened, realizing that Iris was a good two inches taller than him. He had thankfully outgrown every child’s fear of the cooties but was still young enough to be able to admit that she was pretty without being worried about what that thought might mean. From the casual greetings students offered her as they passed, he could also tell she was popular.

But she didn’t seem to notice the curious looks she drew as she walked into the cafeteria next to the new boy who was still too much of a stranger to have made any friends. She also didn’t notice his shyness. Instead, she rambled away as she quietly guided him on which foods on offer were safe to eat and which were to be avoided at all costs.

He was too young to recognize what love was. But if he’d been just a little bit older, he might have suspected he fell in love with her from that very first conversation on their very first day of being friends. And he would never stop.

---

“Anyway, wanna spend the night at my house tonight?” Iris asked, appearing out of nowhere and presenting the question as though the two of them were in the middle of a conversation they absolutely hadn’t been having.

Luckily, Barry and Iris had been friends long enough that this tendency of hers no longer surprised him. “Probably, but I’ve gotta ask my mom. Did your dad give permission already?”

She shrugged, unperturbed by her technical lack of permission. “He’s got a big case, so he’ll be working late tonight.” Joe tended to be more lenient about Iris having friends over on nights he was wrapped up in a case at work. Possibly because he felt guilty to work such long hours. “I’m gonna ask if we can rent a couple movies when he picks me up from school. We can have popcorn and ice cream and – ooh, Celeste!”

Her head whipped around as she caught sight of one of her other friends as they passed in the hallway. In a hurried voice, she blurted, “Catch you after fifth period? I’ve gotta ask Celeste a question about our math homework.”

Before he could even answer, she’d darted away.

---

“What’s up, Bar? You not enjoying the movie?” At his quick look of surprise, she explained, “You just sighed.”

He grimaced, lifting one hand to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. He hadn’t realized he’d even made a noise. “Ah, no, it’s okay. It’s just…” He let his voice trail off. Lifting her eyebrows slightly, she gave him an encouraging nod. Rolling his eyes at her, he explained, “I didn’t realize there would be this much kissing.”

Iris laughed, the sound washing over him like music. “I didn’t realize you minded kissing movies so much. What’s the matter? You don’t still think girls will give you cooties?” she teased him.

That wasn’t the problem at all. The problem was that he’d found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss her. He didn’t know where the thought had come from. Or why it had come upon him so suddenly. But he absolutely couldn’t let her know what he’d been thinking.

“No!” he blurted, a little too defensively. The sharpness of his tone caused her to straighten from her reclining position on the couch, her body moving slightly away from him. Desperate to rescue the situation – while still keeping her ignorant of his private thoughts – he stammered, “I-I was just wondering if, uh, if you had ever kissed anyone?” His tone lifted at the end in question, breaking off with a small wince of mortification as he realized he’d probably picked the worst way to deflect her suspicion.

But she didn’t seem suspicious. Instead, she seemed strangely shy, kicking her foot out to trace patterns on the floor with one bare toe. “Oh,” she breathed. “No. Have – have you?”

He shook his head desperately, hoping she wouldn’t see his utter humiliation. Or the words that hovered on the tip of her tongue, asking her if she wanted to kiss him.

He made a soft choking sound when she asked, “Do you want to try?”

“Try what?” he practically squeaked.

She didn’t directly answer the question. “I-I mean, we’re friends. I just thought…kissing seems so silly, but…I’m not sure I’d do it right, and I’d feel less nervous if I tried with a friend.”

“Oh,” he replied, somewhat stupidly. “Okay.”

His breath caught in his throat as her eyes flew to his, and he could see she’d been expecting him to turn her down. But then her face softened into a smile, and she leaned forward, moving almost torturously slowly.

She hadn’t even bridged half the distance before footsteps sounded in the doorway and Joe strolled into the room, his arms filled with two large bows of popcorn. “Thought you guys might be hungry, so I brought some snacks,” he explained obliviously as Iris and Barry sprang apart as though they’d been caught in the midst of some sort of illicit activity.

Neither of them mentioned what they had been about to do. They certainly didn’t try again. But when Barry went to bed that night, he found himself wondering what it would have been like to kiss Iris. And wondering even more why he was having such thoughts about the girl who was supposed to be his best friend.

---

“Do you really believe me?” he asked, his head in her lap as she ran her hands soothingly through his hair. He kept his face averted, not wanting her to see the tears that streaked his cheeks. Though she’d been listening to him sob for at least the last hour, so she could hardly be ignorant that he’d been crying. “About what I saw?”

“Of course I believe you, Barry,” she reassured him gently.

“They think it was my dad,” he whispered miserably. “But h-he wouldn’t—”

“I know,” she broke in, sliding one hand to his shoulder to give it a soft squeeze. “I don’t know who the Man in Yellow was, but we’ll figure it out somehow. Together. Okay?”

---

“Where are you going?” Iris’s soft voice was almost enough to stop him in his tracks. But he was too angry, he was hurting too much, to be forestalled for long.

“I’m leaving!” he grumbled angrily, tossing some clothes into his backpack. “Joe doesn’t believe me about my dad! Nobody believes me! They think I’m crazy, that I—”

“I believe you,” she refuted him, her words soft and sad.

He hesitated, throwing her an apologetic look over his shoulder. “I know,” he finally agreed, his words tinged with regret. “But he wants to take me to another therapist who will tell me I imagined what I saw that night. I didn’t, I swear! And I can’t just abandon my dad in jail like they want me to."

She gave a quick, decisive nod and threw her arms around his shoulders in a tight hug. “I know. You do what you gotta do, Barry Allen. I’ll try to cover for you with dad.”

Before he pulled away, she pressed her lips softly his cheek. Even through his fury and his frustration, as he ran down the street away from the West house a few minutes later, the spot where she’d kissed him tingled.

---

“So, you planning to go to the dance on Friday?” Iris asked cheerfully as he passed her in the hallway, his hair still wet from the shower.

He snorted. “Of course not. It sounds dumb. Why?”

If he wasn’t wrong, she looked a little embarrassed. And maybe just a tiny bit hurt. “Oh. No reason, I guess. I just…Steve Asherman asked me to go, but I thought I’d rather go with you. But it’s okay. You’re probably right. It’ll be stupid anyway.”

With that, she ducked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Leaving Barry to reproach himself for his rashly chosen words. Wishing he could find a way to turn back time to ask her to be his date to the dance after all.

---

“Well? How do I look?” she asked, spinning in a circle in front of him.

He couldn’t tear is eyes away. “A-amazing,” he answered honestly. “You look amazing.”

She came to a stop with a grin. “You sure you don’t want to come along? I’m sure Steve wouldn’t mind.”

Barry had no doubt Steve absolutely would mind, since it was the worst-kept secret at school that his crush on Iris was exceeded in duration and devotion only by Barry’s own. Plus, he could imagine nothing worse than being a fifth wheel on a date with Iris. Particularly knowing he could have been on her arm – as a friend, at least – if not for a few thoughtless words. “Nah, that’s okay,” he replied, keeping his voice lighter than he felt. “I had a book I wanted to read tonight anyway.”

She laughed. “You are such a nerd, Bar,” she teased him lightly. Before he could even consider whether his feelings should be hurt at this assessment, she threw her arms around his shoulders and stretched onto her toes to give him a hug. It had been a long time since the days she’d towered over him. “But that’s one of the things I love most about you.”

He felt her start to pull away and felt his arms tighten around her, wishing to prolong the embrace. Her words echoed in his mind. “…that’s one of the things I love most about you. Love most about you. Love you.”

He didn’t realize what she was about to do until it was already done. As she started to pull away, she turned her head slightly and brushed her lips against his in a quick kiss. He froze when he realized what had happened, and she took the opportunity to step out of his arms.

“Wh-what was that?” he asked, knowing his face had to be bright red.

“Oh,” she replied, and he could see the flush on her own cheeks. “It’s just…it’s silly, but…you were supposed to be my first kiss, remember? I mean, it was years ago, so m-maybe you don’t. But then my dad interrupted us, and I—”

“I remember,” he prompted when her voice trailed off. She wouldn’t look at him, her fingers worrying the fabric of her dress instead.

“Oh. Of course you do. Well, I just – uh – it seemed a shame to have my first kiss with someone else when…I mean, you’re my best friend so I thought – I’m sure I wasn’t very good at it, but—”

He shook his head, cutting her off. “No, you were fine! I mean, I think you were. It was just so fast. I just, um, I don’t think I did a very good job, is all. I didn’t realize – I mean, I didn’t know—”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just laid one on you like that. I was just nervous about tonight. I thought if Steve tried to kiss me, I wouldn’t know what to do.” She huffed out a deep breath. “It’s stupid. I’m sorry,” she reiterated.

“No, it’s okay!” he reassured her quickly. “I, um, do you want to kiss Steve? I mean, if he tries to kiss you?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I haven’t decided. I just wanted to be prepared. You know, in case.”

“Right,” he agreed rather vaguely. Not really sure what he was agreeing to or whether he should be agreeing at all. His mind was too preoccupied by the realization she’d kind of kissed him and he’d missed it. “Do you, uh, do you want to try again?” When she looked surprised and a little confused, he explained, “I just…I was surprised, so I don’t think I did a very good job the first time. If you’re wondering what it’s like to kiss someone, I don’t think I helped very much.”

“Oh,” she said for the third time in as many minutes. “Um…sure.”

He could tell she was nervous. He was too, as he leaned down slowly, giving her every opportunity to change her mind and step away. Until the distance was breached and his lips were pressed gently but firmly against her own.

If he ever looked back on their first as an adult, and if he could be honest with himself when doing so, he’d acknowledge that – in the entire history of kisses – his first kiss with Iris would rank nowhere near the top in terms of finesse. It couldn’t have been a more awkward first kiss if they’d tried, since neither knew what they were doing so they just stood there with their lips pressed together and didn’t move so much as an inch.

But he’d dreamed about kissing Iris for so long, he couldn’t have imagined a more perfect moment if he’d tried. If only he knew how she felt about him in return.

When the kiss finally broke off, Iris pulling away as her eyes darted around the room nervously, he tried to tell her how he felt. “Iris, I—”

“Iris!” Joe called from downstairs. “Your date’s here!”

“I-I should go,” she blurted before he could continue. “I don’t want to keep him waiting.” She turned to run downstairs but hesitated in the doorway. Throwing him a quick glance over her shoulder, the corners of her lips curved up in a soft smile. “Thank you, Bar. I hope kissing me wasn’t too traumatizing for you,” she teased him gently.

As she disappeared, he groaned in the back of his throat and leaned back against the wall. Actually, it had been devastating. It had left no doubt in his mind that he loved her. He always had. He always would. And she would never see him as anything other than her best friend.

---

“Got everything you need?” she asked, her eyes scouring the room as she grabbed for his hand. Intentionally drawing out the moment before they would have to say goodbye.

He let her, no more eager to leave her than she was to see him go. “I think so,” he said, a touch of regret in his voice. Then, clearing his throat, he said more encouragingly, “This isn’t forever, you know. I’ll come home over breaks and at the holidays…”

“I know,” she cut in, the cheer in her voice not ringing true. Scowling when she seemed to realize the same thing, she added in a tone just above a whisper, “It’s just…it won’t be the same. I’ve been spoiled, getting to see you every day.” Then, giving his hand a quick squeeze, she said more firmly, “But I know you’re going to do great. You’ll blow everyone away with how brilliant you are, and pretty soon, you’ll forget all about me.”

“Never!” he vowed, the word thick with feeling as he pulled her into his arms for a tight hug. “I could never forget about you.”

He heard her soft sniffle as she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. When she finally drew back, he could see the wetness in her eyes as she fought back tears. “Just…do good, Bar. After you graduate, come home to me and we’ll figure out the identity of the Man in Yellow together. Promise?”

Barry was momentarily taken aback. He hadn’t realized she knew why he was pursuing his planned course of study, or that she was even aware how much the mystery still plagued his mind. But in retrospect, he probably should have known better. That was Iris. Of course she knew.

He pressed a kiss against her forehead, wishing – not for the first or last time – he was brave enough to tell her how he felt. Knowing it wasn’t the right moment. “I promise.”

---

“Well? Tell me everything!” she blurted before he’d had even settled into the passenger seat by her side. “How do you like college life? Have you been to any wild parties? Gotten any crushes on some hot girl in your science classes?”

He laughed as he struggled with his seatbelt, finally wrestling it into place. “Wow, what’s with the interrogation? Has anyone ever told you that you’d be a terrifyingly good detective? Or actually a damn good reporter?”

She snorted. “You know dad would never allow me to wear a badge, and I can’t see reporting being quite my speed. I was thinking of psychology, actually. Which, by the way, is why I know what you’re doing is deflecting so you don’t have to answer my questions about all the hot dates you’ve been going on in my absence.”

He rolled his eyes at her. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’ve been studying too hard to go on any hot dates, if you want to know the truth.” He swallowed, wondering if he dared say a little more. “I do, uh, have a crush on someone, actually. But I doubt she even knows I exist. I mean, romantically. She’d never want to go out with me. We’re just friends.”

She scowled. “What’s her name and number? I want to call her and tell her to open her eyes and stop being such an idiot because you, Barry Allen, are the most incredible guy I’ve ever met. And you deserve someone as amazing as you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, feeling a tiny spark of hope flare in his chest. He’d hoped time away at college would have cured him of his unrequited love of her, but it seemed to have done just the opposite. Being with her now, he realized he loved her more than he ever did before he left.

“Yeah,” she agreed in a voice that invited no argument. “Now, I want to hear all about it, but I think this conversation calls for caffeine and baked goods. Unless you’re in a hurry to get back to the house?”

He shook his head. “Nope. I’m all yours,” he replied. If only she knew how true that was.

---

“Who’s she?” Iris asked as she flopped back onto Barry’s bed, the flimsy frame letting out a loud shriek of protest at the sudden jarring motion. He looked over to see she was holding the picture frame that had been sitting on his bookshelf for the past two weeks, bringing him equal measures of pleasure and guilt.

“Oh,” he said rather dimly, sliding onto the narrow mattress next to her. She scooted toward the head of the bed until her back was pressed against the wall and he followed suit, their shoulders pressing together in the limited quarters available to him. “That’s Holly. She was my study partner for finite math.” At her expectant look, he explained, “We’ve, uh, we’ve been dating for a couple months now.”

Her mouth dropped open, less with surprise than with joy. “You’re dating someone? Barry, that’s fantastic! Why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?”

He winced. “Girlfriend? I don’t know that I would call her my girlfriend, per se. It’s just been a few dates, and—”

“Don’t be silly,” she cut in, rolling her eyes at him. “If it’s been a couple months, she’s your girlfriend.”

That only served to make his guilt worse. Did she find it peculiar that he kept a picture of his “girlfriend” on his bookshelf and a picture of Iris on his nightstand? If so, she didn’t say anything about it. The problem was, Barry didn’t know if it was peculiar. He didn’t know if it unconsciously revealed something he’d felt but didn’t want to openly accept.

Like the fact that, nice as she was, Holly wasn’t Iris. And she never would be.

“Anyway, she’s very pretty,” Iris continued, ignorant to his thoughts as she gave the picture in her hand a critical look. “Is she nice?”

Now it was Barry’s turn to roll his eyes good-naturedly at her. “No, of course not. I only go for surly girls. Mean ones. You know that.”

She snorted and elbowed him in the ribs as just punishment for his teasing. “To you, you goofball. Is she nice to you?”

“I guess so,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Well, I’m glad. You deserve someone nice. I hope she makes you happy.”

“She does.” The problem was, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to make her happy. Not when his heart had long ago been given to another.

---

“You okay?” Iris asked, dropping onto the porch stair beside him. “Dad said you and Holly broke up.” Then, as though afraid he’d be upset his secret was out, she rushed to add, “Don’t be mad at him for telling me. I think he’s worried about you.”

“I’m not mad,” Barry reassured her, tilting his head back to look up at the stars. While he was sure she was under the misconception his failed relationship had brought him to silent and solitary contemplation on the front porch, the truth was, he hadn’t been thinking about Holly at all. He’d been thinking about Iris. Which was, when one came down to it, why their relationship had been doomed to fail from the start.

Scooting in closer, she laid her head against his shoulder, offering him condolences he didn’t deserve. “You’ll find the right girl someday, Bar. I just know it. Someone as amazing as you are.”

He made a soft sound in the back of his throat, uncomfortable at accepting her comfort under false pretenses. “What about you? Don’t you want to fall in love one day?”

He regretted the question when it caused her to lift her head off of him so she could follow his gaze toward the starry night sky. “Me?” she asked in a voice so soft it barely broke the still evening air. “I’m not sure I know what love feels like. People say it’s like being swept away, like fireworks exploding all around you. And I’ve never felt anything like that.”

He shrugged, sliding one hand toward her until he linked his fingers in hers. “Maybe love is nothing like that. At least, maybe it isn’t like that for everyone. Maybe it’s like this. Sharing a quiet evening with someone you can’t imagine life without. That doesn’t sound so bad, does it?”

Her smile was brighter than the light coming from the street lamp nearby, and then she sighed and placed her head upon his shoulder once more. “No,” she admitted, letting her body rest against his. “I guess that doesn’t sound so bad at all.”

He could tell she hadn’t understood, hadn’t realized that he was speaking of his own feelings. In that moment, he almost told her how much he loved her. But the timing didn’t seem right, so he rested his cheek against the top of his head and held his tongue. Soon. He’d tell her he loved her soon.

---

“What’s the big news?” Iris asked excitedly, blowing into the room like a gust of fresh air. Leaving him breathless in her wake.

“You’re looking at the newest CSI for the Central City Police Department!” he replied with a wide grin.

“Really? That’s amazing! I knew you could do it!” she cried, joyfully flinging her arms around his neck.

Soon. He’d tell her he loved her soon.

---

“Barry, can you hear me? Do you even know I’m here?” Iris asked, her voice cracking with tears she struggled not to shed as she placed her hand over his. Trying to be strong for him. “The doctors say they don’t know if – when – you’ll wake up, but I know you’re in there somewhere. Come back to me, Bar. I need you.”

---

“Are you – this is real? It’s really you?” Iris asked, cupping his face between her palms before running her hands along his shoulders and down his chest.

He captured her hands in his, holding them still over his heart. “It’s really me.”

Tearing her hands free, she flung them around his neck, pulling him into yet another hug. At least their eighth in the past half hour. “I dreamed you’d come back to me so many times. I’d almost given up hope—”

He tightened his arms around her waist, content to hold her for however long she wanted. If it was up to him, he’d never let her go. “I’ll always come back to you, Iris. You should know that.”

---

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked him in a tortured whisper. “All this time, you never told me how you felt.”

“Because I was scared. I didn’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you.”

But she wouldn’t meet his eyes, turning her face away so he couldn’t read her thoughts, and he felt his heart sink in his chest. Had he lost her anyway?

---

“I picked up some breakfast. Want some?” she offered him a little awkwardly as she gave a box of baked goods a gentle push in his direction. Things had been awkward between them since he’d told her of his feelings. He didn’t know if they’d ever stop being awkward. But at least she was still trying. She hadn’t given up on him yet.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a small sigh of relief, reaching for the blueberry muffin he suspected she’d picked up just for him, since neither she nor Joe liked blueberries. “Thanks.”

---

“I just don’t understand. You’ve been lying to me this whole time about being the Flash? I mean, it’s one thing not to tell me your secret. But you tried to make me think I was crazy to even think he existed! How could you do that to me?” Iris demanded. He knew she was angry, but what killed him was that she sounded hurt, as well.

“I’m sorry,” he replied honestly. Desperately. Afraid he was losing her. “I should have told you the truth a long time ago. You were the first person I wanted to tell! It’s just…Joe was afraid it would put you in danger, and—”

She crossed her arms over her chest, the expression on her face granting him no quarter. “This isn’t about my dad. This is about you. You’re my best friend! You could have told him to go to hell when he told you to lie to me, and you didn’t! Why not? Was it – didn’t you trust me?”

He shook his head, a quick jerk of his neck. “It wasn’t like that,” he tried to explain in a hoarse whisper, his voice filled with regret. “I trust you! I trust you more than anyone!”

His regret was nothing compared to the pain in her voice when she asked in a pleading whisper, “Then why?”

Barry’s gaze dropped to the floor. What could he say to her? How could he explain? He had his reasons, but they all sounded like weak excuses, lies he’d held close to his heart so that he didn’t have to admit to the possibility of one ugly truth: that he’d lied to her about being the Flash for the most selfish of reasons. Because he’d liked the way she looked at the scarlet speedster when she didn’t know Barry Allen was the man beneath the mask.

---

“So, Flash, inquiring minds want to know…how fast can you move, anyway?” she asked, reaching out and snatching one of the fries off his plate. “Not fast enough to stop me from stealing your food, apparently.”

He tried to hide his answering smile. “I’m pretty sure nothing on Earth could stop you from stealing my food. And is this…are you really planning to interview me right now?”

“You said I could!” she replied defensively, stealing another fry. He didn’t argue the point because it was true, he had. He just hadn’t realized she planned to frame it as an actual interview. She probably knew enough about him at this point that she could write her article without asking him a single question.

But she recently had seemed so excited to get into reporting, and he didn’t want to do anything to wipe that smile from her face. So he shrugged instead. “All right, well…I’m not sure how fast I can move, exactly. At least, I don’t know that I’d want your readers to know how fast I can run. I’m worried about people finding out too much about my powers. Might help them find a way to take me down.”

She nodded thoughtfully, making a quick note in the small notepad by her elbow. “Fair enough,” she agreed. “But I can say you’re fast enough to run up the side of buildings, at least.”

He nodded. “Sure,” he agreed. But before she could ask him another question, he got an idea. “Though, really, if you want to know how fast the Flash can run, there’s nothing like experiencing it for yourself.”

Iris’s eyes darted toward his in surprise and confusion. “You mean like…how could I—”

Barry held out his arms, silently offering to carry her. “I don’t know that it’s the kind of thing everyone enjoys, but…want to go on a run with me, Miss West? I’ll get you back here before your fries even have a chance to grow cold. I promise.”

She considered him in silence for a long moment. Finally, however, she stood. “All right,” she agreed, taking a step toward him. He sped away to change into his superhero costume, returning before her foot had made contact with the ground. She came to a stop before him, and his stared into her eyes as he leaned down slowly to lift her into his arms. Their eyes remained locked as she wrapped one arm around his neck, holding on tight. “You ready? If it gets to be too much for you, just let me know and I’ll slow down, okay?”

She nodded, and he realized with pleasure that there was no fear in her eyes. “I’m ready,” she said firmly.

He took off, running as fast as he could, reveling in the power of the speed force as it traveled through his body and moved him faster than any man was meant to travel. As he pushed himself to move faster, faster – wanting, perhaps, to show off for the woman he loved a bit �� he kept one eye on her face. The moment it seemed like there might be something wrong, he would stop and make sure she was okay.

But Iris didn’t seem frightened. She didn’t seem unnerved by their speed or the blurring city streets as they raced by. Instead, she laughed, reveling in his abilities almost as much as he did. Holding tightly to him as he ran faster, faster, faster. Not just unafraid but gleeful over the very powers that had brought him such joy amidst the inevitable pain that came with the life he led.

Was it any wonder he loved her?

---

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Iris asked, resting her hand atop the bandage that covered his most recent injury. Her eyes were filled with worry, so he offered her a reassuring smile as he rose gingerly to his feet. The happiness and love he felt when he was near her was strong enough to almost drown out the pain in his side.

“I’m okay,” he told her, a tiny white lie. He took her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “I heal fast. Anyway, I’ve got to get back out there before anyone else gets hurt.”

“I know,” she agreed with a heavy sigh. “Just…be careful, all right? I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you.”

His heart swelled at her words, giving him the strength he needed to race into the fray once more.

---

“You do know we can’t just keep doing this forever, right?” she teased him gently, the words coming disjointedly between soft kisses pressed against her lips. “At some point, we have to stop for food, at the very least.”

Barry made a soft sound of disagreement, his lips trailing from her mouth along the curve of her jaw to the soft spot under her hear that made her sigh with pleasure. “Later,” he promised, making her giggle softly at the determined growl of his voice. He’d wanted to hold her like this for years. He wasn’t quite ready yet to let her go.

---

“Stay with me tonight?” she asked in a soft, shy voice, reaching her hand toward him.

He didn’t need her to ask twice.

---

“You sure you really want me to make an honest man out of you like this?” Iris teased him, curling up against his side as he turned off their bedside light. He placed his hand over hers where it lay against his chest and felt the hard ridge of her engagement band. It made him smile to think that there had been a time he’d thought she would never love him as he loved her.

He smiled at her, though he knew she wasn’t likely to see him in the dark. “I’ve wanted it almost all my life,” he whispered, lifting her hand to press a kiss against her palm. So much had happened in his life that had been strange and unexpected in the years since he’d first developed his powers. There were no doubt untold strange and unexpected things he would face in the years ahead. But he’d face them unflinchingly if he had Iris by his side.

---

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked as she sank onto the couch next to him, flinging her legs over his.

Barry winced, almost wishing she hadn’t asked. His thoughts weren’t exactly ones he was desperate to share. But he couldn’t lie to her, so he said slowly, carefully choosing his words, “I was just thinking…being with me…I haven’t exactly given you the perfect life you deserved, have I? It’s always something with us. Psychic gorillas, evil speedsters from another world, time travel…either that or I’m locking myself into the speed force and leaving you behind, or making you think I’m never coming home, or getting framed for a murder I didn’t commit. And now, with what happened at our wedding…I just can’t help but think one day, you’ll wake up and decide being with me was a mistake. Your life could have been so much easier if you’d fallen in love with someone else.”

“Hey,” she said, waiting until he finally turned his head to meet her eyes. “I never asked for easier, and I certainly didn’t want to fall in love with someone else. I’m not even sure I’d know how to try, since I’m pretty sure I’ve loved you most of my life without realizing it. I don’t care about the gorillas or the time travel or the evil speedsters. I don’t even care about talking sharks in pants! As long as you come home to me every night. That’s all I need for my life to be perfect.”

---

“Do you ever think about the future? About the life you want to have when all this is over?” she asked, leaning against him as they stared out the window at the bustling city below.

“Sometimes, but it’s hard to picture what that will be like,” he admitted. “Except to know that, whatever my life will be like, I’ll never stop wanting you in it.”

---

“How could you not know?” she whispered, curled up in her hospital bed. “I – maybe I’m not being fair. But it wasn’t me. For weeks, it wasn’t me. And you didn’t know.”

Barry’s head fell forward, his shoulders sagging in defeat and despair. “I don’t know,” he whispered. But he would never forgive himself for not realizing the truth sooner. For leaving her in the mirror world alone.

---

“Are you okay? That fight looked pretty bad.” Iris’s voice was soft, concerned, soothing his wounds yet breaking his heart.

His hands shook with the desire to hold her, but he didn’t have the right. Instead, he sighed and sank onto the sofa, where he would be sleeping for the night. As he had the night before and the night before that. It was his own choice – and his own doing. Iris hadn’t asked him to leave their marital bed, but his guilt kept him away. After spending so much time with her mirror counterpart without a shred of suspicion, he didn’t deserve to touch her. Iris deserved better than that.

He didn’t respond right away, so she said his name again, the word a soft question on her lips. “Barry? What is it?”

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” he lied.

He heard her step up beside the couch and felt the gentle pressure of her hand on his shoulder. “Come to bed.”

He looked up at her in surprise, almost unable to believe his ears. “Iris – you’re sure?” She nodded and he rose slowly to his feet, not wanting to make any sudden movement that might scare her away. She slipped her hand into his, leading him toward the bedroom, but he didn’t follow immediately. Instead, he whispered, “Are we okay?”

She hesitated, and he could see the muscles in her shoulders grow tense for a moment before relaxing again. He heard her sigh, and then she turned to face him. “Not yet,” she admitted, holding his hand tight so that he couldn’t pull away. “But we will be. Anyway, I miss my husband. Come to bed.”

---

“Twins?” Iris asked in amazement, staring at the white and black images on the ultrasound screen. “There has to be some kind of mistake…we can’t be…can we?”

Barry’s astonishment mirrored her own, but the two circles on the screen left no doubt. “Twins,” he breathed. They were going to have twins.

He hoped they took after their mother. Not that he was such a bad person to take after, but…oh, god. What if they both inherited his powers? What age would they kick in? When they were teenagers? Toddlers?

One thing was for sure: He was definitely not prepared.

---

“You understand, don’t you?” Iris asked in a low, pained whisper, wincing when a slight movement pulled at the new stitches in her side. “I have to keep going. It’s important. People deserve to know the truth, and I’m the only reporter out there chasing down this story right now.”

“I know,” he admitted, squeezing her hand in his own. “I can’t ask you to stop, but try to be careful, okay? I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you.”

---

“Oh my god, would you stop?” she asked on a laugh.

“What?” he replied with false innocence.

Smothering a giggle, she shook her head at him. “I know you’re proud, but you don’t have to start every conversation with, ‘Did I mention my wife just won a Pulitzer?’ you know.”

He nodded gravely in response, but he knew he wouldn’t really be able to help himself. He was proud of her finally getting the recognition she deserved after years of hard work and dedication, and he didn’t care who knew it.

---

“So, Flash, are the rumors true? Are you and Wonder Woman dating?”

Iris’s voice was light and joking, but he scoffed rolled his eyes at her anyway. “Don’t even start. We fight one battle together, and everyone wants to make something of it,” he grumbled, pushing his cowl back off his face.

She laughed. “Don’t even pretend like you aren’t loving this just a little,” she teased him. “It’s okay; we’ve been married a while. It’s gotta be flattering to hear rumors that you’re dating an actual Amazonian princess. I mean, just look at her. Is she as gorgeous up close as she is in her pictures?”

“She doesn’t hold a candle next to you.” When he saw her eyes widen with surprise, he bent down and brushed his lips against hers in a warm kiss.

When the kiss finally broke off, she gazed wistfully up at him, the corners of her mouth twitching with a laugh. “I – you know, flattery looks really good on you. But while I’ve got you in a good mood, how about an interview with your favorite reporter?”

“Anything you want, Mrs. West-Allen. Anything you want.”

---

“This is real? It’s really you?” Iris asked, launching herself into his arms. Barry breathed out a heavy sigh of relief as he held her close. The scene reminded him of one he’d experienced before. But that was long ago, when he was young and strong. Now age and countless battles hung upon him, stooping his shoulders and putting streaks of grey in his hair. His children were grown now, a lifetime of happiness and of regret leaving its mark in the lines upon his face.

“It’s really me,” he reassured her, pressing a hard kiss against her temple. How many years had he lived this way? How many decades had he dedicated to serving the citizens of Central City? How many times had he left Iris in fear of being a widow, rather than a wife?

She would never ask him to give up his life as a superhero. Not for her. But he’d come too close to death one too many times. He’d faced the prospect of leaving Iris alone more times than he could bear. This most recent battle had been close. Too close. He couldn’t take such a risk again.

“I’ve come back to you, Iris, just like I promised. You don’t have to worry anymore. I’m home.”

---

“Stay with me?” Iris asked, her voice weak and thready. “Just a little while longer.”

He lifted her hand, pressing it to his lips. He hated to see her like this, frail and trembling. She was slipping away from him; he figured she had minutes left, if he was lucky. It wasn’t enough time. It would never be enough time. But Barry wasn’t a victim to time the same way as everyone else.

Clutching her hand tightly in his, he vibrated as quickly as he could. He hadn’t moved this fast in years, his connection to the speed force having long since faded. For a moment, he was scared he wouldn’t be able to do it again. But perhaps the speed force was kind. Or perhaps it pitied him. But it did what he asked, one last time. It pulled Iris with him into Flashtime. Giving him a few moments more to say goodbye.

As the world stilled around them, Iris let out a heavy sigh of relief. The pain that had clouded her eyes and etched deep grooves into her face faded, wiping years off her face. Her features were soft and relaxed, and a smile graced her lips. She was at peace.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, resting his cheek against her fingers. But she was. He wouldn’t be able to stop it forever. With her hand still in his, he climbed up into the bed next to her, pulling her gently against him.

She sighed and leaned into him, resting her head upon his chest. “Bar, I want you to promise me something. Promise me you won’t give up when I’m gone. Live the rest of your life. Take care of our family—”

“Iris, no,” he begged, feeling himself tremble as he held her. “It’s not enough. I need more time.”

“We’ll always want more time,” she whispered. “Promise me. Please.”

But how could he make her such a promise? When he lost her, he would lose so much of himself. What would be left of him? He’d loved her almost his entire life; picturing his world without her now was almost impossible to contemplate. It was certainly too terrible to bear. But it was what she wanted, so he would have to try. “I promise,” he said, the word coming out on a small sob.

He could feel her soft smile against his chest. “I won’t really be gone, you know. I’ll just be waiting for you to run home to me. So don’t waste the time you have left with tears.” Giving her hand a small but firm tug, so pulled it away from his, silently asking him to return time to normal and let her go.

He didn’t want to do it. If it was up to him, he’d keep her in Flashtime forever. Slowing each second to an eternity. But she was right; even that wouldn’t be enough. And, anyway, he’d never really been able to deny Iris anything. Not even this.

With reluctance, he stopped his superhuman speed, watching the world around them return to its normal pace. Then he felt her breathe out one last, long sigh as she curled in closer to his warmth.

“We had a hell of a run, didn’t we Bar?” she asked in a voice almost too soft to hear.

He felt her body grow still beside him and no longer tried to hold back his tears as he pressed a kiss against the top of her head. “Yeah, Iris. We did.”

---

“Iris?” he asked as the bright light around him faded, revealing her standing before him, her hand outstretched. Waiting for him to take it. He reached out and placed his palm in hers and she laughed, pulling him closer. She looked as beautiful as she had on their wedding day, so many years before. “Is it really you?”

He’d lived a long life. Most of it was happy, though some of it wasn’t. But now he was an old man, years older than he’d been when he’d held his wife in his arms for the last time. If it hadn’t been for the promise he’d made her, he doubted he would have been able to carry on so long. But it was what she’d asked of him, and so he’d done his best. Until finally, at the end of his life, he raced into the speed force one last time. And he’d found her there, waiting for him.

“It’s me,” she reassured him, giving his hand a quick squeeze. She felt so real, and the teasing gleam in her eyes was just as he remembered it. “I told you’d I’d be waiting for you to run home to me.”

“I promised I always would,” he reminded her, pulling her toward him so he could steal a kiss. It, too, was just like he remembered. “But…how? I thought only speedsters—”

“I was surprised, too,” she admitted. “I guess it’s one last gift from the speed force. I was your lightning rod, after all.”

That made sense, he supposed, though the explanation didn’t really matter. What mattered was she was here. His Iris. He’d been running for so many years; now, finally, at long last, he could stop. He could think of nothing better than spending the rest of eternity in the speed force, with her by his side.

Finally, at long last, he was home.

#Westallen #fanfiction #my fanfiction #barry allen #iris west #questions in time #westallen alphabet #westallenalphabet

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flamehairedwritings · 4 years

Text

The Fiancé: Chapter Six

Characters: Steve Rogers x Female Plus-Size Reader

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY

Summary: A lie about your best friend at a Christmas party spirals into world news, but a previously unknown threat leaves you having to now live the lie of Steve Rogers being your fiancé.

Originally based on the prompt ‘Character A’s ex will be at the Christmas Party A is attending. Character B poses as A’s fiancé,’ by @alloftheprompts.

A/N: The whole series will include swearing, alcohol, threat, violence, apartment sharing, protected sex, and more tags to be added!

The title has been taken from the Ella Fitzgerald song of the same name.

The Fiancé Masterlist

All Works Masterlist

Read on AO3

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

It’s Only A Paper Moon

WEDNESDAY

“I am in heaven.”

“Doll’, this is Y/N’s wedding, not yours.”

“We have the whole place to ourselves, I can try on one thing, right?”

Well, the first part of that is true. Sitting on a couch not designed for sitting on, you play with your hands in your lap as your gaze travels the room. Nat had, she’d told you before you’d left that morning, bought the whole place out, for the sake of sensationalism, security and it just seemed like something a very famous person would do.

‘Sensationalism’ is so far so successful; there is a crowd of people similar in size to the one at the cake shop outside, trying to look through the French windows, though you’re located at the back of the shop. As for security, it means Nat doesn’t have to plant people inside and you won’t get crowded and overwhelmed by people coming up to you, and for seeming like something a famous person would do? Yeah, probably, you don’t know.

“Just have some fun,” Nat had said as you’d gone down in the elevator. “It’s just trying on some dresses and having a fun time with your friends.”

Fun.

You’d nearly laughed. But, you’d just smiled and nodded, because that’s what you do now, smile and nod and go along with things. If you don’t, that leads to conversations, and conversations lead to you having to admit to things, like the panic attack you’d had that morning as you’d dressed or the fact you have feelings for your best friend and every moment of this week is both wonderful and torturous.

Speaking of... you haven’t seen Steve today.

Last night, after you’d woken up from your nap, you’d showered, masturbated while in there, ‘cause, hey, things had only gotten more stressful, and changed and wandered downstairs, but Steve was nowhere to be seen. Then you’d heard sounds of machines in the gym room and realised he was working out. He’d left a note for you on the island, though, saying there were leftovers in the oven of what he’d cooked. You’d eaten alone, watching TV.

You did that for about two hours, and Steve didn’t emerge once, still working out. You hadn’t thought anything of it, though, he is super-human. So, you’d gone to bed, leaving him a note in return saying thank you, you hadn’t wanted to disturb him and that you were going to bed, with a little drawn smiley face.

There’d been no note when you’d come down after calming yourself and pulling your shoes on, not wanting to be caught out like yesterday morning, just Nat.

But space is good for you two.

Even if you never usually go this long without at least messaging each other.

But this isn’t a ‘usually’ time.

“Y/N?”

The Christmas jazz music filters back into your hearing as your head snaps up to look at Dolly, sat on a gorgeous pale pink shell chair, her big eyes wider than usual.

“Yeah, sorry?”

Her smile is wide and her eyes seem to be only getting wider. “I can try on one thing, right?”

You nod as you smile. “Uh, yeah. As bridesmaids, you probably actually should try something.”

She releases a sound akin to a squeal and claps her hands together. “Great! What colour do you want for us?”

“Uh...” Oh, you know this, you talked about it with Nat in the car... “... Red.”

Bridget looks at you, then exhales a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God, I thought you were gonna carry on and say ‘white and blue’.”

Your lips twitch as you tilt your head. “Come on, we’re not gonna be that on the nose.”

Bridget raises their eyebrows but before they can retort a woman, Sally, appears with an ice bucket, a bottle of champagne inside, and three glasses. All three of you give some kind of very grateful sound before thanking her as she sets them down on the glass table before you. You also all cheer as she pops the champagne, (God, who are we... desperate for free alcohol, that’s who), and thank her again as she fills the glasses and hands one to you each.

Beaming, she stands back, her hands clasped together. “Can I get anything else for y’all?”

You hum as you quickly swallow your mouthful. “Mmh. Yes, please. Do you have any dresses in red, for these two?”

She glances at them, her gaze sweeping over them and you realise she’s expertly measuring them, and nods. “Absolutely. What style would you like?”

“Uh, any, we’ve got time.”

Her beam grows as she nods. “Wonderful, I’ll be five minutes.”

You take another sip as she trots off to the back room. Much like at the cake shop, you’d said to the shop attendants assisting you, all five of them now having nothing to do but assist you, that you will try everything and anything. Like Damilola, they’d looked delighted, probably used to, as you’d seen on reality shows, people coming in with very specific requests.

And, boy, do you all have the time to try every damn thing on. Dolly and Bridget have the day off, Yvette being very understanding at the short notice, officially, though unofficially she probably isn’t too pleased to not have her best receptionist and the Head of IT on the same day.

Who am I kidding, she never breaks a sweat. Probably a good time to get those interns trained up, too.

You also have the time as you were meant to be visiting two places today, though the first hadn’t exactly gone to plan. In other words, you’d walked out.

“Oh, our, uhm, our plus-size section isn’t very large.”

You fold your arms as Bridget raises their eyebrows and Dolly narrows her eyes.

“Oh? And why not?”

The woman, Candace, looks between you, her cheeks pink. “Oh, because we, uhm...”

You raise your eyebrows, placing your hands on the counter. “I’m about to blow your mind, Candace, but bigger people get married, too. And you’ve just lost my custom.”

You’d walked out seconds after, a smug smile hinting on your lips as Candace had called after you, practically begging for you to return, that they could order whatever you wanted in, but you’d just kept walking, Bridget telling Candace to save it as Dolly looped her arm through yours.

Nat had apologised profusely once you’d gotten into the SUV she was going to spend the day ferrying you three around in, saying it hadn’t occurred to her to check, as Dolly and Bridget had stared at her, still unused to being in her presence.

Of course it hadn’t occurred to her.

This place, though, The Pearl... It’s gorgeous. Despite not having felt offended at the last place, just angry and exasperated, you couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated. What if this was going to be your whole day? Going from place to place just because they were dumb and exclusionary? You’d felt welcomed the moment you walked in, though, all five assistants and Sally smiling as they greeted each of you in turn, and all Sally, obviously the senior member from how she led the conversation, had done was ask you your usual dress size and that had been it.

You look at the interior again, taking in the pale pink and white walls, framed photos on them of dresses or models in them, or real people on their wedding days in them, the plush cream carpet, the crystal chandeliers, the gorgeously decorated Christmas trees in each corner, the fairy lights adorning the counter by the front door.

Yeah... I can have fun here. And why the fuck not? Trying on dresses is always fun, no matter what, and there’s free champagne and I’m here with Dolly and Bridge’.

Sitting back on the pale pink couch, the tightening in your chest easing, you sip your champagne with a smile.

Am I a champagne person now? This week’s telling me yes.

Bridget stretches their legs out as they sigh contentedly. Looking at you, they smile softly. “How are you feeling about the interview?”

You pull a face as you hold the glass between both hands. “You know about that?”

“Uh, it’s been trending on Twitter for the last two days is all anyone’s talking about.”

You groan as you take another, longer sip.

“So how do you feel?” Dolly gently repeats the question.

You smile lightly, looking between them with raised brows. “How do you think?”

She smiles softly, endearing assurance in her tone. “You’re gonna be fine, Y/N.”

You open your mouth, then close it. Then again... you can talk about it freely with these two, they’ll understand without feeling guilty or worrying too much or treating you like a breakable vase.

You exhale a breath, one you feel like you’ve been holding for days. “I don’t know, it’s live and we haven’t been able to get an idea of what they’re gonna ask yet and... I just don’t want to think about it too much, really.”

Bridget rests their arm on the back of the couch, turning their body to you. “That’s not like you. I’ve watched you spend months preparing for one meeting.”

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s not.” They point a finger at you. “This is a meeting, and you’re pitching your marriage.”

You have no idea how close to the truth that is.

You take a breath. “Can I practise on you two, then?”

Both of them perk up, smiles wide.

“Absolutely!” Dolly enthuses. “We’ve been dying for you to tell us all the details, we’ve been so patient.”

“And a little bit offended,” Bridget adds good-naturedly with an arched brow.

“I know, I know,” you smile, even as your chest twinges.

“It’s fine, two birds, one stone, you can make up for it now and practise,” Bridget says, holding their glass on their knee and fixing you with an expectant gaze and adopting a stereotypical news reader voice. “So, how did this happen, when was the first kiss, the first fondle, the engagement, I want every dirty detail, and the romantic details, too.”

“Okay,” you say through your laughter as Dolly giggles. “All right, all right... God, I’m gonna need more champagne.”

—

He could see the headline now; Cap Goes To Seek Former Flame’s Approval!

At least it would be better than the one’s that had been written when he’d gone on two dates with Sharon. Had that been why they’d both ended it? The media pressure, the questions, the constant hounding? No, but maybe that had been a factor in it. Sharon is great, but... He hadn’t felt a real connection, and neither had she.

He’d only felt that connection a few times in his life, so he knew when something was worth fighting for.

"Engaged, hm?” Peggy Carter fixes him with her gaze, an eyebrow arched, and, God, nothing ever passes her by, not even now.

A smile pulling at his lips, he raises his own eyebrows a little. “Peg—”

She exhales a laugh. “You can’t tell me, I understand.” Lacing her fingers together on her stomach, she smiles. “I do like her.”

“You’ve never met her,” he reminds her gently.

“I know,” she adjusts her head on her pillow, “but the way you talk about her makes me like her. How is she doing with all of this?”

He nods, his own hands clasped together. “Okay, I think. She’s tough.”

Peggy looks at him, her jaw moving minutely. “Hm.”

“What?”

Her lips lift a little, her features soft. “People called me tough. Said I handled things okay. But I can’t tell you how many times I cried in my office, then pulled myself together. I don’t mind crying, it’s very therapeutic, but I would have hated them to see me do it, hated what they would have twisted it into. Or even some of my friends, how they might have gently told me to maybe cut back my hours or something like that, to take on less. But just because I cried it didn’t mean I couldn’t handle matters.”

Steve opens his mouth when she continues, “Did you know that after you went into the ice our relationship is all anyone wanted to talk to me about? Interview me about? Even when I became Director of SHIELD the same questions followed me around, ‘What do you think Steve would think? Would he be proud? Do you still miss him?’”

Something in him twists as he looks at her. “I’m sorry, Peg.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Lord, I’m not saying it to make you feel bad, Steve, still so dramatic...” Her features soften again, but her gaze fixes on his. “I’m just trying to give a little perspective, having been in the position she is. It’s not easy.”

He exhales a long breath, his shoulders dropping a little. “That’s what I’m afraid of, actually.”

Her brow dips. “What do you mean?”

“Like you just said, it’s not easy being with me.”

“Steve Rogers...” His gaze, having lowered, meets hers again, and he finds it faintly incredulous. “... It’s the easiest thing in the world being with you. You are easy to be with. It’s the rest of the world that’s the problem.”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “I liked where that was goin’ but that last part doesn’t make me feel any better.”

She huffs out a laugh, tilting her head. “But the rest of the world doesn’t matter, though, does it? Not if you’re with someone you love, hm?”

He looks at her, his lips lifting a little higher. “No, it doesn’t.”

—

“... So, it was only a couple of weeks ago... We were out at the park we like to walk in, you know the one, I go on about it all the time, the trees are always on my Instagram ‘cause it’s just so pretty, ‘nd it’s quiet, y’know, we’re in the middle of winter, and it’s dark, no one wants to really be out walking, except us...”

You’ve had a bit more champagne than you probably should, but, hey, go away, morals, this is a nice story.

“... so we’re walking, and we’re just talking, and then we stop, and we’re looking up at the stars...”

Dolly, Bridget, Sally, and the other five shop assistants, Donna, Nicole, Max, Jamie and Priya all sigh together at the imagery, and your eyebrows raise and you nod in an expression of, ‘I know’.

“... and then he just gets down on one knee and asks me to marry him.”

They all sigh again, a couple of them putting their hands to their chests and ‘aww’ing and you nod as you sip your champagne because, yeah, that is very cute.

Good one, me.

“What did he say? How did he ask you?” Max asks, all the assistants bunched together on a long couch they’d dragged over.

You take another, longer sip of champagne because what did he say...

“... Oh, well, that’s just between me and him,” you say with a coy smile and they all boo good-naturedly.

Nice one.

“That’s such a lovely story,” Sally smiles warmly and you return it before raising your eyebrows.

“Shall we carry on trying these gorgeous dresses?”

They all cheer and the assistants get to their feet and scurry off to the back to find more for you and Dolly and Bridget. You look at your two friends, Dolly in a yellow ballgown, Bridget in a multi-coloured floral suit, and beam. You are wearing an ivory lace number that hugs your figure and then flows out just below your hips, and are trying very hard not to spill champagne on it.

The session had quickly escalated into Dolly and Bridget trying on whatever they wanted between red dresses, and you just putting on whatever was brought out. You’d told Sally you were here to get an idea of what you wanted, but that you’d be returning very soon. Nat has scheduled in another dress shopping day for Friday and you’d quickly messaged her about half an hour ago while you were changing to cancel wherever that was and make it here. She hadn’t argued.

You’re also giving little bits of details here and there to practise for the interview, your first kiss (at your place after watching a film), when you’d said I love you, (at his place after having dinner and watching a film together), and the story of how he proposed. You’re going to have to remember all this to tell Steve, though, so you keep making notes on your phone as you get changed.

You’ve also sent him a message because you still haven’t spoken.

You know he’s with Peggy, though, so he absolutely won’t be checking his phone, but...

It just feels strange.

“Right...” Your attention comes back into the room as Sally and Jamie appear with an armful of dresses each, “... We have a vintage style one here that we think y’all are gonna love.”

Dolly claps her hands together as Bridget gasps dramatically.

“Vintage? Oh, he’s absolutely gonna love that.”

You don’t know why that makes you feel warm. It’s not like he’s actually going to see you in it... Unless...

—

“... Thank you so much! ... We will! We’ll see you Friday!”

You have to practically drag Dolly out of the back doors of The Pearl, the three of you giggling as you wave at the assistants. Who knew you could become such firm friends with people in the space of in five hours? Well, two bottles of champagne will do that.

You’re on the higher end of tipsy, in a lovely, warm, chatty way, and you have lined your stomach and soaked some of it up, Sally having ordered you all food so you wouldn’t have to leave and 1) Face the crowd, and 2) You couldn’t be bothered to leave, really.

The crowd is also the reason you’re leaving out the back doors, none of you wanting to face the horde outside. It has grown throughout the day, people desperate to get even the tiniest glimpse of you and what you’re wearing. Priya had closed the curtains after an hour, though, and they’d had two of their security guards stationed outside the front doors and it was just bliss. You’d had the chance to forget all about the outside world and just have some fun. Moving across the staff parking lot for The Pearl and a couple of surrounding shops, people haven’t had the chance to get in because it’s guarded, and the man whose job that is looks up from his newspaper in his little station, then looks back down.

Bliss.

Nat waits for you in the SUV, those sunglasses on, one hand leaning against the steering wheel.

“Such a ‘top’ pose,” Bridget stage-whispers and you’re all falling into giggles again.

You’re still gigging as you climb into the car, you in the passenger seat, Dolly and Bridget behind you. Nat’s lips twitch as she raises an eyebrow.

“Did we all have a fun time?”

“So fun.” Dolly, who is usually the most intimidated by Nat, which isn’t surprising considering she has a crush on her and they’ve both only met her three times before, including today, launches into a glowing review of the shop and day, “Everyone was so nice and the dresses and suits and jumpsuits and shoes are gorgeous, I can’t wait until we go back, oh my God, it’s all I’m gonna think about tomorrow...”

Nat’s smile lingers on her lips as she heads towards Dolly’s apartment, Dolly carrying on for the whole journey with Bridget occasionally butting in to add a comment. You laugh the whole way, your cheeks almost hurting from how much you’ve been grinning.

Nat parks up outside Dolly’s building, and turns in her seat, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head and meeting Dolly’s gaze, which provokes a pink blush to rise on her cheeks.

“Sounds like a really good day, then.”

Dolly just nods now, swallowing lightly. “Yep.”

Glancing from her to Bridget, Nat smiles and you think you hear Bridget let out the quietest of sounds. Wanting to save them both, or maybe they don’t want to be saved, they could be loving gazing into her eyes, who knows at this point, you turn to them, too.

“Oke doke, we’ll see you later, Doll’, I’ll text you when Sam and I are on the way.”

Bridget’s eyes whip to you, their mouth dropping open. “Sam’s picking us up?!”

You can’t stop your smile from widening, your eyebrows rising. “Yeah.”

“Oh my God, right, I need to go home and get ready now, Doll’ get out, I only have three hours, oh my God...”

Dolly is laughing so hard she nearly trips out of the SUV, and one hand is on your chest as the other wipes at your eyes as you laugh. Dolly waves from the pavement as she grins before she trots into the building, and all feelings of intimidation have left Bridget as they point ahead.

“Step on it, Nat, this is a national emergency, go...”

Nat just shakes her head as she turns back around, but she’s still smiling and you’re still laughing. “All right, all right, don’t worry, hold on...”

And, boy, does she mean it.

How does she drive this fast and this safely.

—

There’s just something about getting ready for a night-out while you’re tipsy.

Sometimes, if you haven’t had a chance to pre-drink, you have a few moments of ‘ugh, do I really want to go out, I can’t be bothered, there’s that new show out, I’m so tired, oh my God, what if I do something embarrassing...’ but now, the champagne having only worn off a little from what you made yourself for dinner, and, okay, it probably didn’t help that you also made yourself an alcoholic beverage to have with it, you’re still quite buzzed.

Steve hadn’t been home yet and Nat had left a few minutes after making sure you were inside the penthouse so you’d been able to play your music and yell along to it. You’d been able to take your time getting ready, trying on a few outfits before settling on a true classic number that makes a lot of appearances on nights out because 1) you look amazing in it, and 2) you look really damn amazing in it.

You’d even, Nat having requested it, taken a selfie once you were ready and uploaded it to your Instagram story, along with a few gifs of glasses clinking together and someone dancing.

Job done, you’d returned to the group chat you have with Dolly and Bridget and sent them the picture, accompanied with, ‘time to fuckin party’. You could send them a picture of you in a bin bag and they’d still reply with the same thing they do for every photo, and you would for them.

Bridge’ 🌟: Y E S

Dolly ✨: WHO IS SHE???

Bridge’ 🌟: INCREDIBLE, SHOW STOPPING, AMAZING, ICONIC, LIFE CHANGING

Dolly ✨: I LOVE IT

They swiftly send their own photos.

You: LOOK AT US

Bridge’ 🌟: WHO ARE WE

God, they’re great.

You ignored the slight, unpleasant flip in your stomach at seeing Steve’s message, that he sent an hour ago and you haven’t replied to yet.

I hope you had a good day, have fun tonight x

You message each other every day so you never send ‘kisses’, so this just makes you think he’s done it to soften the blow of a slightly blunt message. Is it blunt? Or are you reading too much in to it? He has had a busy day based on what Nat told you when she’d driven you to the penthouse. He was seeing Peggy all day and then going over to Bucky’s to see him, and then they are going to have their own night out.

That’s busy, right.

Whatever, he doesn’t have to reply all the time, it’s fine.

You reply:

Thanks, you too! :-) x

Which is the kind of reply you’d give to someone at work.

You’d ignored your phone vibrating as people, strangers, react to your Instagram story, slipped it into your bag and headed downstairs.

If you were an ego-maniac, Sam’s reaction on top of your friends would just make your head explode.

“Well, hello, ma’am!”

“Oh, stop it.”

“Nu-uh, let me look at you... Wo-ow. You look amazing.”

“Stop it... but thank you, I know.”

The moment you got into his SUV, (does everyone get one the moment they join SHIELD?) he has music playing that you can both sing along and dance in your seats to. Bridget had told you to pick them up last to give them more time so you swing by Dolly’s place first and she looks gorgeous as always in a short, glittery pink dress with matching eyeshadow and lipstick, her blonde hair curled and bouncing.

You give little squeals as you see each other, despite having only seen each other a few hours ago, and she’s definitely still buzzed, too. Sam gives her the same reaction he gave you and, God, you love him.

As you pull up outside Bridget’s building, you can’t stop meeting Dolly’s gaze in the rear-view mirror, your lips twitching. She’s doing a worst job than you at hiding her smile, her hand in front of her mouth, and you’re both trying so hard to stop a laugh.

It escapes when he gets out of the car and closes the door and you’re both turning in your seats to stare at Bridget as they walk out, gorgeous as always in a buttoned up, black blazer with no shirt underneath and matching black shorts, one side of their head freshly shaved. Dolly’s hand darts out and grips your arm as Sam approaches them and kisses their cheek and they’re both smiling but you can’t hear what they’re saying and you hate SUVs, are these things sound-proof, I’ll ask Nat...

As they climb into the car, you and Dolly are staring at Bridget, smiling. They just raise their eyebrows, grinning and say, “Hey, girls.”

“Well, hello.”

“Hi.”

You have to once again stop a laugh as Sam starts to drive, turning the music up, and you were all soon yelling along to the songs.

Now here you are, at a roof-top bar, being escorted to a table that had been reserved for you. Usually, you’d go to your favourite bar opposite work but Sam had gently insisted that you move it to another place he was more familiar with and where he could have better access to an exit and eyes on you. For a place simply titled The Venue, it’s very nice up here; it’s large, fire pits and heaters dotted around so you can’t feel the cold, a stunning view of the city, low, sultry tunes playing, a dance-floor in one corner, everything either purple, red, or gold. There’s even table service, and you recognise a few people dotted around.

“Is that—”

“Oh my God, yes...” Bridget whispers back to Dolly’s question as they stare at a table a little way away.

Your lips twitch as you each take a seat at a wooden table with a candle on it, the chairs red and plush. Your server informs you that a tab has already been set up for you, so you each grab a menu and debate for a good few minutes about what to get, the server standing patiently. Settling on cocktails, the server leaves with a beam, promising to be back in a few minutes.

“God, this place is fancy,” Bridget says, turning in their seat to get another look at everything.

“And we actually have a table!” Dolly sighs delightedly.

“Perks of being Mrs America, huh?” Bridget turns back around to look at you, their eyebrows raising with a smirk.

You snort, your cheeks heating. “Not quite yet.”

Bridget opens their mouth but Dolly gets in first, gasping suddenly. “Did you see the news by the way?”

You pull a slight face. “No, I don’t tend to look at it anymore.”

She beams, her eyes sparkling. “Well, what happened at the dress shop, at the first place, everyone’s talking about it. People are so happy you said something and brought attention to it, there’s so many discussions being had about the wedding dress industry and the fashion industry in general when it comes to plus size clothing.”

The server returns before you can reply, and as she sets your drinks down you feel heat rise on your face again as you bite at your lower lip, pride spreading through you.

Well... Great power, great responsibility... I could get all kinds of stuff to be talked about... Note to self, change world tomorrow.

The three of you take long sips of your chosen drinks, humming in delight at the taste. As you lick your lips and set your glass down, Bridget places their arms on the table and leans forward.

“Now, come on, Y/N...”

Your eyebrows raise. “... What?”

Bridget tilts their head. “What’s he like in bed.”

You give your best scandalised gasp as Dolly laughs and Bridget smirks, continuing, “He’s kinky, isn’t he? It’s always the quiet ones...”

“Bridget Sanderson,” you gasp again, even as you grin, Dolly’s laugh infectious, “A lady never tells.”

“Well, you ain’t no lady so spill.”

You take a long sip of your drink to buy some time.

Could you? Should you?

Well, I’m in this far... And they won’t let it slide...

Licking your lips, you lean forward and lower your voice. “All the details?”

Dolly giggles and claps her hands together as Bridget grins. “All of them, you saucy bitch.”

—

Who knew you were so imaginative. Who knew you could remember every detail of every fantasy you have ever had about your best friend. Who knew you could think up such filthy, delightful things. Who knew you’d start comparing these imaginings with actual things you’ve done in your life, and that Dolly and Bridget have done with their sexual partners.

Who knew all three of you could drink so much.

Sorry to whoever’s paying the tab. The government? Shit, sorry, government, no wait, no I’m not, another round!

As the server, Melanie, you found out is her name while ordering the second drink, brings you your fourth drinks, you’re currently in the middle of laughing so hard it hurts at a story Dolly is telling of a sexual encounter, tears streaming from your eyes.

“... and then...” She dissolves into laughter herself, leaning over. “... and then her cat came in and it just, it just sat on the bedside table and made eye contact with me and...” God, you bloody love her laugh. “... she was doin’ such great things and sayin’ such good dirty talk but all I could do was stare at this cat and I just felt like apologising to it... and then it just started licking itself!”

Bridget is practically curled up in their chair as they laugh and you’re having to wipe at your cheeks, practically crying. Once you’ve all calmed down, you blow out a breath and massage your stomach.

“Oh my God, Doll’, I can’t believe you never told us that story...”

“I’m gonna wanna hear it again every day,” Bridget says, running a hand through their hair as they grin.

Dolly beams, sipping her drink. “I’d forgotten ‘bout it, think I repressed it.”

“So Steve’s into dirty talk, too, huh?” Bridget asks, sipping their own drink.

You nod several times, because part of you had always just thought, with him being such a great commander and leader, that he would be... and you’ve already told them that he is. “Mmhm, he’s made me come by jus’ his words alone.”

“No.”

“Get th’ fuck outta here.”

You nod smugly, your tongue catching your straw and you take a long sip. Not a total lie, you’ve imagined his voice in your ear several times... with a vibrator helping you along. And, hey, you won’t feel guilty about any of this ‘cause this is boosting his image... to your friends.

Dolly’s eye are wide and she and Bridget lean in, wanting more sordid details. You grin, happy to oblige and divulge more of your fantasies.

“So, it was when he was away one time ‘nd he called me ‘nd—”

“Excuse me?”

All three of you pause and turn to look at a woman, close to your age, smiling as she pushes her brown straight hair over her shoulder.

“Hi.”

“H’llo.”

“Hiya.”

“Hey,” she says, holding a phone in her hands as she looks at you. “I’m sorry to bother you, but can my friends and I get a photo with you?”

You blink, and look at her. Did... Yeah, you heard it right. Photo? With you?

You nod quickly, realising you’re just staring and silent. “Oh, yeah, sure, absolutely.”

What the fuck is happening. I hope I don’t sound as drunk as I feel. Or look it, oh my God, are my eyes open properly?

You push yourself up and, oh, fuck, yep, you’re drunk, and step around your chair as the woman beams and beckons her five friends over.

“Thank you so much!”

Bridget offers to take the photo, the woman very grateful, and she and her friends introduce themselves, a little tipsy and giddy with nerves and being with a celebrity, oh my God, I’m a celebrity, this is hilarious...

You stand in the middle, your arms around the girls either side of you, and you smile, making sure your eyes are open properly, as they pose. Bridget takes a few photos before smiling and handing the phone back to the first woman as they break away from you.

“Oh my God, thank you so much!”

“You’re so pretty!”

“We’re so jealous of you!”

You just smile and nod, trying to appear a little more sober.

“Thank you, have a nice night!” you call as they wander off, still giddy with excitement and all wanting to look at the photo.

Sitting back down, blinking, you look at Bridget and Dolly. They’re looking at you, blinking, too. It’s Bridget who finally speaks.

“... So, as you were sayin’ ‘bout gettin’ absolutely railed by America’s Finest?”

The three of you dissolve into giggles again, Dolly throwing her head back as Bridget leans over the table and your hands cover your mouth.

“Hey!”

Oh my God, I really am a celebrity.

Your wide smile lingering, you lower your hands and look up at the woman. You hear a chair scrape back on the stone floor somewhere as you pause. Hang on, you know this woman—

“You worthless bitch!”

Dolly screams as the woman throws some kind of small can at you and you’re suddenly drenched in a thick, liquid, your eyes closing just in time. Someone else screams as you hear Bridget shove their chair back and yell obscenities at the woman, lunging for her, but suddenly other voices are there, and they must be pulling the woman away because her own screams are coming from further and further away.

You’re frozen in your seat, hands half-raised. People are shouting around you but you barely listen. Dazed, your hands continue moving up, as they had been doing to protect yourself, and you wipe the liquid away from your eyes, and slowly open them.

You can feel the cold now, the heaters and fire-pits worthless, the liquid sticking to your skin and clothes. Or maybe you’re just shaking because you’re in shock.

You suddenly realise someone has been talking to you. Your head moving, you meet Sam’s gaze, suddenly feeling his hand on your back. His features are soft and his voice is gentle, but you can see the rage in his eyes.

“I got you, it’s all right. Can you get up? And we’ll get you out of here?”

You nod and lower your gaze, going to reach for your bag.

“It’s all right, I got it,” he says and your eyes move to his other hand, confirming that he does.

Getting to your feet, Sam’s arm goes around your shoulders and your feet are moving. People are still shouting, some trying to take photos, but there are people pushing them away, giving you and Sam space to head towards a door he’s leading you to.

It’s paint, you realise suddenly. Blue paint. You look back down at yourself again, watching it stain your skin and clothes.

“Where’s Bridge’ and Dolly?” you hear yourself ask.

“Another agent’s got ‘em, don’t worry, she’s gonna take ‘em home.”

Sam shoves the door open and you step into a stairwell, two men stood inside it. One of them moves to your left and you see an elevator, which the man opens by typing in a code on a keypad. Sam’s hand is still on your back, gently guiding you into it. The doors shut as the man types in another code, and Sam drops his hand from you and presses a button marked ‘B’. The elevator starts to descend and you stare at the doors.

“We’re gonna get you home, all right?” Sam says quietly, and you just nod, not caring to ask if he means home home, or the penthouse.

You hear him unzip his jacket. Yeah, it is hot in here. Your skin is warm all over and your throat feels tight, and you can’t quite take in a deep enough breath. Then you hear the sound of something ripping. Your gaze darting to Sam, he holds a section of his polo shirt in his hand and offers it to you. You stare at it, your brain putting the pieces together, and then you take it. You wipe at your eyes, mouth and face, and Sam zips his jacket back up and looks at you.

“You okay?” His voice is quiet again and you’re grateful for it because even the sound of his shirt tearing has made your heart beat faster.

“That was the woman from my work, who got in, wasn’t it?” you ask blankly, your volume matching his.

He shifts a little, scratching at his jaw as you hear him release a breath. “Yeah.”

You nod, swallowing hard and you wish the lump in your throat would go away. “Right.” He opens his mouth when you continue, finally meeting his gaze, “Why did you do that, Sam? You’ve blown your cover, surely, or they’ll know I’m being watched.”

He gives a light smile. “People will expect you to be watched, it would’ve been suspicious if no one stepped in.”

“Ah.” You start to wipe at your hands.

Sam tilts his head slightly, his smile softening. “And I wanted to get you out of there.”

You meet his gaze again, but you don’t have the energy to smile, despite the sentiment being touching, and just nod. His eyes linger on you as you look back down at your hands, concern swiftly replacing his smile.

The elevator slows then comes to a halt, the doors sliding open a moment later, and the cold night air washes over you as you both step out into the underground parking garage, yet another one, Sam’s hand returning to your back. The place is silent, and you spot Sam’s SUV amongst a few other cars, both of you heading towards it. He gestures to someone in another car but you don’t care to look, assuming it’s another agent.

He moves a step ahead of you to open the passenger side door and you stop abruptly.

“What?” he says instantly, tensing.

“The paint. It’s gonna ruin the seat.”

He looks at you for a moment, his features relaxing into a smile. “Ah, that’s all right. That can be taken care of.”

You get in after he nods, and he places your bag on your lap. Closing the door, he jogs around to the driver’s side as you buckle your seatbelt then settle your hands over your bag, gripping it along with the piece of his shirt. Your eyes focus and stay on the dashboard as he secures his own seatbelt and puts the car into ‘drive’.

The barrier is more guarded than the other parking garages you’d been in this week but that hasn’t stopped paparazzi and occupants of the building from gathering, assuming that’s how you’d leave the area. You keep your eyes on the dashboard as lights flash and people shout.

Shouting, always shouting.

Sam doesn’t drive as fast as Nat, but he’s goes at some speed when you’re out on the main road. “Steve’s gonna meet us at the apartment,” he says after a couple of minutes, keeping his eyes on the road, “He was out with Barnes.”

“Okay.” Your voice sounds small to your own ears, distant.

Neither of you talk.

You look at your hands, the paint dry and barely having come off from when you’d rubbed at them in the elevator.

You start rubbing at them again, then use your nail, trying to scrape what you can off.

“Shit...” Sam murmurs suddenly.

Glancing up at him, you find him looking in the rear-view mirror every few moments.

“What is it?”

“Someone’s followin’ us.”

Your stomach drops, and exhaustion hits you like a fucking freight train. From his reaction, you guess it’s not a news van.

Sam presses a button on the steering wheel and the sound of dialling fills the interior.

Nat answers on the first ring.

"Where are you?”

“Nat, we’re bein’ followed.”

“Shit. All right, there’s a car on the way. Change your route.”

“Okay.” He takes the next left, and you know your heart should be pounding but you’re just so tired.

“How far away are you?”

“About fifteen minutes,” Sam replies, glancing up at the rear-view mirror. “We’re definitely bein’ followed, Nat.”

“The car will be there in three minutes. Keep taking turns, it’ll follow behind them.”

“Don’t worry, Y/N, nearly home,” Sam murmurs.

“Mhm.”

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Nat asks, her voice a little softer.

“Mhm.”

Sam glances at you as he pulls up at a red light, his lips pressing together. “Not long now.”

“Mhm—”

The sound twists into a gasp as you’re thrown forward slightly, the seatbelt catching you. Sucking in a breath through your teeth, you lift your head and look in the wing mirror as Sam spits out a curse.

A car, its bonnet dented, is reversing... then it speeds towards you again.

“Sam—”

“I see it.”

“Sam, what’s going on?” Nat demands to know as Sam pushes his foot down on the accelerator, the SUV lurching forward.

“We just got hit, they’re tryna ram us.”

“Are you both okay?”

Sam’s expertly weaving through the traffic, leaving horns blaring in your wake, but he just keeps going.

“Y/N, you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” It’s an automatic response, but you think you are. Physically, at least. Whiplash will properly rear its head soon, though.

A faint memory comes to you, however, of Sam telling you all the SHIELD cars have been built to absorb the impact of things like this, it having happened a fair few times, leaving the occupants with minimal damage, if none, so maybe not.

“Are they still following?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. Think we lost ‘em.” He only slows his speed a little, though.

“You’re right, the agents are following them now, just get back here as quick as you can.”

“All right.”

The call ends and Sam glances at you.

“Y/N, you gotta tell me if you’re not okay, are you hu—”

“I’m fine, Sam, thank you.” You swallow hard, the lump still in your throat.

He falls silent, leaving you be, and you’re grateful for it because you’re so fucking tired.

Several minutes later, he pulls up at the penthouse building and he makes you wait, sliding out of his seat and jogging round to open your door. People stare as he ushers you across the main foyer to the elevator that’ll take you up to your floor but you just look ahead. Thankfully, Sam doesn’t say a word as the elevator ascends and you just look at the doors. When they slide open at the penthouse floor and you step out into the tiny circular foyer, you let Sam get his keycard out, opening the door.

And then the noise washes over you.

People talking, to each other, over each other, on phones, demanding, ordering, snapping. You hear the door close and feel Sam behind you as you slowly walk down the short hallway, then into the living room area.

There are agents everywhere, maybe about twenty, all stood around, talking. Loudly.

They don’t look up at you as they continue on with whatever they’re doing, typing on tablets, staring at tablets, standing over a hologram of what you realise is the floor-plan of the penthouse.

“Y/N.” Your eyes dart up to Nat as she approaches, striding across the carpet. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“Fine. Tired.”

“Okay.” Her gaze scans you, assessing, and you’re too drained to care that she knows you’re lying. Her hand settles on your arm gently and she holds your gaze, her voice lowering. “We analysed what this is, okay, we got the can of it from the woman, and it’s just paint—”

“Who is she?”

Nat pauses at your abrupt question, and you know she’s weighing up what to tell you. Her hand doesn’t move from your arm as she speaks, “Her name’s Marise Daniels. She’s one of Steve’s stalkers, we’ve been aware of her for a while.”

Stalkers. One of.

“Oh.”

“She...” Sam starts to say, choosing his own words carefully. “... She isn’t meant to be out, especially after what happened at your work.”

“Apparently there was a system error. Someone’s seriously fucked up,” Nat continues, the information new to you both considering Sam’s hissed release of a breath.

“Is that why these people are all here.” You don’t think you’ve ever heard your own voice sound so lifeless.

Nat pauses again, weighing her words again and, God, just tell me. “Someone tried to break in. They got into the elevator and overrode it, got up here but they couldn’t get in. The tampering alerted our systems but by the time we got here they’d gone. We’re checking CCTV footage now and asking people if they saw anything.”

You look at her, her words barely feeling like they reach you. “So why are all these people in here.”

Her hand is gently rubbing your arm now, and it’s faintly starting to ground you. “They’re checking the security systems in place here, making sure they’re secure or reinforced.”

“Okay.”

“They’ll be gone in thirty minutes, I promise.”

“Okay.”

She takes in a breath and smiles lightly. “How about we—”

“Agent Romanoff?”

A muscle in her jaw ticks slightly but she turns to the agent, her eyebrows raising. “Yeah?”

The agent lowers her phone from her ear. “Captain Rogers has helped to apprehend the suspect. He’s on his way over. Agents Moore and Lane are taking the suspect back to HQ.”

“All right, tell them to...”

Nat’s voice drops out of your hearing, and your gaze drifts to the stairs. Sam’s hand settles on your back, rubbing gently, and you remember that he’s there.

“I’m gonna... gonna go upstairs and wash this off,” you mumble to him, and you don’t hear if he replies as you move forward.

People don’t look at you, continuing with their business, talking, talking, talking. You reach the top of the stairs before you know it, opening your bedroom door. You close it behind you, muffling the sounds of the people downstairs.

Removing your shoes, you drop your bag to join them on the floor as you head to the bathroom. You pull your outfit off, letting it drop to the floor, too, you can deal with it later, hopefully the washing machine will get it out.

You turn the shower on and step under the water. Head down, you watch some of the blue paint start to wash off, swirling and whirling in the water and disappearing down the drain. Only a little, though.

You have to use your hands and the body-wash to get it off. Scrubbing at your skin. Scraping at it.

You’re in there for twenty minutes. Scrubbing. Scraping.

When you finally make yourself get out your skin feels raw. There’s still a faint stain in some parts, though. You grab a towel and use it to continue rubbing at your skin, blue now staining the cream softness of it. The rest of your skin is dry by the time you make yourself stop and you pull the robe on.

Then you look at yourself in the mirror.

The lump returns to your throat and tears fill your eyes. You look... drained. And you fucking feel it. You’re exhausted. So exhausted, in every single way. You’ve spent all week fighting so hard to stay up-beat, to stay positive, to make this work, to see the good sides, but the world isn’t allowing that. You’d just wanted to yell at the woman, Marise, that you are doing this to keep him safe, that he is in danger, and you are just doing this to keep your fucking best friend safe.

The fact there’s still some blue paint staining your cheeks and neck is what makes the tears finally spill down your face. Sniffing, you swallow hard and grab a hand towel, wetting it and scrubbing at your skin once more.

It’s not moving.

You inhale a quiet, shuddering breath, almost a sob, as you stare at your reflection, scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing.

Three gentle knocks sound on your bedroom door.

“Come in,” you say automatically, your voice cracking, and you wipe at your eyes.

You look up as the door opens and see in the reflection... Steve.

He pauses, the door nearly closed behind him. You sniff again as you look at him, his eyes assessing you.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey,” you answer. You shrug then, your features crumbling. “... It’s not coming off.”

The door closes and he’s moving towards you.

“Come here, it’s okay...”

As you turn from the mirror, you’re then enveloped in his embrace, your cheek pressed against his chest as he holds you. A jagged sob escapes you as your arms go around him, holding onto his shirt, gripping it.

“It’s okay...” he murmurs again, and you feel his voice rumbling in his chest, his chin resting on your head.

You’ve tried so hard to stave off tears all week that now that you can, now you don’t care anymore, now that you’re so tired, they’re not stopping. The front of his grey shirt must be damp, now, and your throat hurts and your chest is heaving but you just let the tears come and come, and he doesn’t stop you, doesn’t say anything, just holds you, his hands occasionally stroking your back and arms gently.

It’s not until you start to draw back that he does, guiding you to the sit on the rim of the bath.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, wiping at your cheeks with one hand. “Still a bit drunk, I think.”

A corner of his mouth lifts a little as he crouches down before you and takes the hand towel. “You don’t need to apologise. You can cry as much as you like.”

Your own lips lift for a moment as you sniff, and then you want to cry all over again as he starts to gently dab at the stains on your face and neck. You watch him, your eyes tracing his nose and mouth, the small, concerned lines on his forehead. If he got into a fight with the suspect earlier, there’s no sign of it. His hair doesn’t even look tussled.

Your eyes continue moving and meet his. He lowers his hand and inhales a quiet breath.

“I’m sorry, about all of this, Y/N.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished his sentence. “Steve, it’s not your fault.”

He looks almost pained at that, shaking his own head. “I could’ve prevented you being in this situation, though, I knew the risks of—”

“Don’t,” you interrupt sharply, surprising you both, but you continue on, “I already know what you’re going to say, and I will take it all, all of this, if it means I get to be your friend. Like we’ve said, we’re a team in this. I really wouldn’t want anyone else as my fake fiancé or as my friend.”

A smile pulls at his lips, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You shouldn’t have to take all this, though, you shouldn’t—”

“No, I shouldn’t. But I will.” Your hand has found his free one, and grips it gently.

He turns his hand over instantly, curling his fingers around your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His smile softens.

“I think the world’s finally gonna see the stubborn pain in the ass I have to deal with.”

You exhale a laugh, and his smile widens at seeing yours.

“Well, it’s only fair others should have to suffer,” you say, shrugging a shoulder.

“You’re right there.” He resumes dabbing at your skin as you look at him.

“How was your day?” you ask quietly after a few silent moments, knowing he’ll just ask how you are if it stretches any longer.

“It was okay.” He’s dabbing at your chin now. “Peg says hi, and that she understands what you’re going through.”

God, you just want to cry all over again.

Your chest warms as you smile. “Really? Maybe I should go on your next visit.”

“I think she’d really like that.” His thumb is still brushing over your knuckles, and you wonder if he realises he’s still doing it. “She knows this isn’t real, though, think she figured it out.”

“Well, I wouldn’t expect anything less. How was Bucky?”

“Fine. He says hello, too.”

“Wow, everyone’s being so kind to me today.”

He arches an eyebrow at you as you laugh, trying to stop himself from doing the same. “I don’t know whether it’s a good sign or not that you’re already joking about this.”

“Humour’s a great coping mechanism, you know that.”

He’s still smiling, but you can see the concern returning, so you quickly continue, taking your hand from his so you can raise a finger, raising your eyebrows, “Well, Doll’ and Bridge’ told me to tell you, by the way, well done, on having me as a fiancée.”

The corners of his mouth lift higher, now reaching his eyes. "Yeah, I know how lucky I am.”

“Oh, and, you proposed to me in our park, by the way.”

He tilts his head as you smile somewhat smugly. “Did I, now?”

“Yeah, under the stars.”

His eyebrows raise as he smiles widely. “Wow, you’re also very lucky, then.”

You wave your hand slightly. “I said a lot of stuff today, I’ll have to fill you in. I made notes.”

He chuckles as he lowers the towel from your face and rises to his feet. “You can show me my homework tomorrow.”

You watch him as he moves to the sink, dropping the towel into it, then raise your hand suddenly. “Oh, there was a dress I actually really liked there, too.”

“The one you sent me a picture of?”

You freeze, staring at him as he turns to you.

“... What?”

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he moves back towards you, unlocking it, then taps on a couple of things before turning it towards you.

Ohp.

And there you are.

In the vintage style dress, cascading flutter sleeves stopping just below your elbows, tight on your breasts and with a v-neckline, satin gold, your hand on your waist, beaming at your reflection in the gold mirror at The Pearl.

Ah, now you remember sending it...

“... Yeah, that’s the one.”

“It’s really nice,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket as he offers you a hand to get to your feet. “You look great in it.”

Your face heats as you take his hand and get up, shrugging a shoulder and smiling. “Oh, well, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

Your hands drop, yours going to your side, his going into the pocket of his jeans. Looking up at him, you give a light smile, which he returns.

“You okay?” he asks softly, and you nod after a moment.

“Yeah. Just so fucking tired,” you say with a slight laugh. “Think I’m just gonna sleep now.”

He nods, his teeth grazing over his lower lip. “That sounds like a good idea. What a fuckin’ day, huh?”

You snort, your eyebrows raising. “Yeah, for both of us.”

He sighs, as if remembering that, oh, yeah, someone had tried to break in, too. “The agents have all gone, now. The place is even more secure, it’s like a fortress.”

“Well, that’s good.”

You head into the bedroom, and he follows you out, moving to the door. He opens it, turning to you, and you share another smile.

“Sure you’re okay?” he asks again, and you bite at your lower lip.

Stay.

You widen your smile. “Yeah. Just very ready for sleep.”

He nods, taps his fingers against the door and smiles. “All right. Goodnight. I’m just down the hall if you need me.”

“Yeah. Goodnight.”

Your smile lingers for a moment as the door closes, then fades as you hear him walk away.

—

Halfway down the stairs, Steve pauses, his hand on the railing.

He considers turning around.

Going back up the stairs.

Opening your door.

Taking you in his arms again.

After a minute, he carries on down.

—

In your pyjamas, phone in your hand, you climb into bed, sinking into the soft safeness of it.

You unlock it, finding several messages in the group chat from Dolly and Bridget, asking how you are, saying they’re home safe, that Sam had filled Bridget in and they’d filled Dolly in, that they both hope you’re okay.

You send a message back saying that you are okay, you’re tired, and that you’ll speak to them tomorrow, and you hope they’re okay.

There’s a message from someone else, too.

I’ve just seen what happened on the news, I really hope you’re okay x

I’d have a normal life with Aaron.

Where the fuck did that come from?

But you can’t help thinking it.

He’d slipped into your mind when you’d masturbated that morning. You hadn’t wanted to think about it. You’d just imagined him, out of curiosity at first, as he’d posted a photo on Instagram of him at the gym again, just to imagine what he’d be like, you do it with most people to pass the time... and then he’d stayed in your mind.

It had seemed... more real than when you’d imagine Steve. Probably because Steve is your best friend and you shouldn’t be thinking of him that way and you don’t want to ruin what you have, you really don’t, and Aaron... Aaron is the kind of person you could take a chance on.

You feel tears start to prick at your eyes because this is fucked, this is all so fucked, and you love your best friend and you can only think that in it’s entirety without your brain shutting down when you’re drunk or tipsy because it’s the only time your mind is free and you love him, you love him, you love him, you love him...

But there is no fucking way you will ever risk losing him as a friend.

—

Comments and reblogs make my day in a way I can’t describe.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or untagged in this series!

Tagged: @herb-welch, @jobean12-blog, @gifsbysimplysonia, @multireality, @saltyspiceduh, @sergeantangel, @sarcasm-is-my-native-tounge, @lex-is-up-all-night-to-get-bucky, @dispatchvampire, @superapplepie, @rynabarnesrogers-reading, @im-not-great-at-making-up-names, @imaginedreamwrite, @thesefleshfailures, @mrsbarnes32557038, @tellthemall-i-saidhi, @tacohead13, @opalsandlace, @notsomellowmushroom, @river-soul, @ollypopp, @byssheplease, @kimberliinabox, @ughofcourse, @sebbystanlover-vk, @vale0413, @donutloverxo

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers #captain america #captain america x reader #marvel fanfic #my writing #flamehairedwritings

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shadowglens · 3 years

Note

5 thru 10 for thalia and 11 thru 16 for lyssa please!!!

THALIA

5. guilty pleasures

definitely sleeping in! so much of her routine and job relies on being up early and getting to the lab or whatever she’s supposed to be doing that day, and she always feels a little guilty when she sleeps in (even if it only ever happens when she’s on shore leave rip). being lazy and just lying around always makes her feel like she should get up.

6. their vices (physical or emotional)

she’s actually pretty good when it comes to not giving into vices, and she’s always checked herself (her mum struggled a lot with alcoholism when thalia was growing up, and even though she’d managed to get help and drag herself out the other side of it, thalia never wants to feel that helpless). she probably has a few emotional vices of constantly beating herself down or not giving herself enough credit, but she’s got better at being more positive/self-loving lately.

7. their tickle spots

on behind her knees definitely! also ribs. jim makes the most of both constantly, much to her chagrin.

8. bad memories/experiences

before all the shit that she goes through while on the enterprise (being on board as the ship is boarded, being abducted by freaky aliens, seeing the love of her life die in front of her, etc.) her worst memory was always the explosive fight she had with her dad when she left for university. the two of them had never had a good relationship before that, with him pushing and pushing her to be the best and be who he wanted her to be, and she just ... snapped at him after she told her parents she was moving out. she regretted it instantly, and they do eventually make up, but it still haunts her a little.

9. humiliating memories

probably not doing well on an exam during her university or starfleet days, or getting something wrong in the lab on the enterprise. she likes to be right!

10. fears/phobias

being alone, i guess. she’s always been surrounded by people, with her family and friends and roommates and crew, and living alone without human contact would be really hard for her.

LYSSA

11. bad or petty habits

she can’t help but send petty barbs and teasing remarks at people, although they’re almost always good natured (it can be easy to take it the wrong way though). also she tends to isolate herself a lot and doesn’t really realise she’s doing it until someone comes to her like “wtf where have you been” and she’s like “oh”. she’s especially bad about it in those early years on earth when she’s still trying to figure herself out.

12. grudges and vendettas

never really forgives malekith, or what remains of her people honestly. not that there’s many dark elves left anyway, what with them being almost extinct, but she doesn’t hold a lot of love for them. also she never likes odin for his treatment of her while she’s on asgard and how he treated her like dirt - she pretends to be sympathetic when thor tells her he died, but she’s really not. i’m sure there a lot of other small grudges here and there too, cause she’s petty like that (her and tony do Not get along well at first, but they get over it).

13. what gets them flustered

not a lot. i think if anyone was ever achingly gentle with her, she might implode though. a gentle touch at her cheek, softly taking her hand in theirs, kissing her like she might break. it’s such a foreign feeling to her.

14. ingrained habits/forces of habit

she has a tendency to clash with people when she first meets them (*cough*tonystark*cough*), and always likes to assert her dominance which ... doesn’t come off the greatest, honestly. she can usually chill out and is actually really friendly after you get to know her, but the first impression is never very good. it’s an old habit from her many, many years with malekith, because he never let her be weak around anyone. she gets better at appearing more approachable after spending more time around steve and some of the other avengers though.

15. what it takes to make them cry

a lot. like, a lot. again, malekith beat a lot of bad habits and personality traits into her (like being edgy and mildly depressed but also an intimidating bitch) and not showing weakness was like the biggest one, so no tears around here. she’s very good at redirecting her sadness into other things, and tends to just bottle it all up. most of it comes out when she’s fighting someone, because her emotions are really closely tied to her powers. (she walks out into the fields surrounding avengers hq at some point during the blip and just stands in the rain and unleashes a wave of pent-up dark matter energy until the ground is scorched and she’s lighter in her chest. still no tears though, or maybe the rain just masks them as she walks back in to find steve waiting just inside the door)

16. dark secrets/’skeletons in the closet’

so many. she did a lot of bad things when she was with malekith, killed a lot of people, manipulated a lot of people, and it’s not like she was being mind controlled or anything - abused, sure, but she made the decision to follow along and be the evil thing he wanted her to be. enjoyed it too, for a time. the origin of her powers remains a secret only her and thor know about among the rest of the avengers for a long time, until thanos shows up and she starts hearing the reality stone calling to her.

#oc tag #jmcolt #ch: thalia wooten #ch: lyssa #ty aj! you really made me work here huh #but i did need to develop these girls a bit more rip #(also yeah im leaning towards her and steve being together .... clown hats on over here)

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star-spangled-steve · 5 years

Text

His New Partner

Chapter 12: The Experimentation

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 4721

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, oral sex, light fingering, nudity, Daddy!Kink, light Dom!Steve, sub!Reader, dirty talk, mentions of other kinks and sexual activities, cussing.

A/N: I debated for a while whether or not I was going to post something like this, but here we go.

“Can you pass me the gummy bears?” Natasha asked over the sound of ‘Dirty Dancing’, which was playing the television screen.

“Mm-hmm.” Y/N responded, being able complete the task without straying her eyes from the epic final dance number.

The two were having a ‘Girls Night’ in Natasha’s room, something which they did pretty regularly. The event was usually filled with snacks, gossip, and cheesy romance movies that the boys refused to watch, even though they secretly enjoyed them.

“Oh, I love that one so damn much.” Y/N gushed when the closing credits of the film started to play. “The music, the dancing, the sexy Patrick Swayze.”

Natasha chuckled, standing up to take the DVD out of the player. “Sexier than Steve?” She asked with a smirk, before returning to the little makeshift fort that they had created on the ground. In reality, it was just a pile of blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals that Natasha had too much pride to admit she owned.

“Hmm… almost. But don’t tell him that.” Y/N kidded. No one was sexier to her than Steve was, and everybody knew it.

“Speaking of the Captain, how have you two been doing?” The redhead inquired.

The younger girl was confused at her question. “‘Doing’ how?”

“You know… sexually.”

“Nat!” Y/N erupted in nervous giggles, her cheeks getting warmer by the second.

“What? I’m just curious.” She clarified. “The man was a virgin for almost a century. Their has to be an interesting story to tell.”

“I mean, I don’t know.” Y/N played with the bottom of her shirt. “The sex is good. Great, even.”

“But?”

The actress furrowed her eyebrows. “Wait, how did you know that there was a ‘but’?”

Natasha just shrugged, grabbing another Twizzler. “I’m a spy.”

Y/N shook her head, trying to find the correct way to phrase her upcoming statement. “But, it’s very… vanilla, per se.”

“Wow.” The other woman tried not to laugh, failing miserably. “That bad?”

“No! It’s not bad at all.” She now felt guilty for implying anything wrong of Steve. “It’s not his fault that I’ve never been vocal about this.”

“Then why don’t you just be vocal about it?” Natasha suggested like it was the obvious solution.

“Because, what if he thinks I’m some ‘sorta freak of nature?” Y/N worried, grabbing a small handful of M&M’s.

“Damn, Y/N. What kind of shit are you into?” The assassin joked, making the girl drop her head in embarrassment.

“Nothing that weird, I swear!” The girl laughed, wrapping her blankets closer around her. “But Steve is from the olden days, I don’t want to scare him off.”

“Look, N/N.” Natasha grabbed one of her hands. “That man loves you so much, nothing you could ever say or do would scare him off. You guys have only been sleeping together for like three weeks, right? So just tell him, explore with him. Maybe something really great will come out of it.”

“Thanks, Nat.” Y/N pulled her into a hug, grateful for finding such an amazing friend. “But, I just want to be clear.” They pulled away. “I do still very much enjoy sex with Steve.”

“Thats good.” The woman smiled.

“Like he started doing this thing, where he calls me his ‘babydoll’. So thats pretty cool.” Y/N rambled on. “And also, he told me that I was a ‘good girl’ one time. I think that it was on accident, but man oh man, it was sexy.” She absentmindedly hugged one of the many throw pillows, a dreamy expression painted on her face.

“Jeez. Who knew that Y/N Y/L/N was so kinky in the bedroom?” Natasha laughed, causing Y/N’s head to whip towards her.

“Nobody knows. So please, please, please, please-“

“I won’t tell anyone.” The redhead finished. “I promise, your secret is safe with me.”

*****

The feel of the punching bag beneath his hand wraps was the only thing Steve knew as he pounded relentlessly on it. One punch for each night she’d been away from him, and when he got to seven, he’d repeat. All other sights and surroundings were invisible to him, so when Tony put a hand on his shoulder, it was quite the surprise.

“Jesus, Tony!” Steve yelled, flinching away from the billionaire.

“Told you not to poke the bear.” Natasha remarked from her place on one of the treadmills.

The brunette rolled his eyes. “Just wanted see what his problem was, you know, before he annihilates my whole gym.” He gestured the already destroyed punching bag on the floor, an unimpressed look on his face.

“Give me a break, Stark.” Steve sighed before realizing that he was going to get nothing done, particularly now that these two had arrived. He moved to the benches along the wall and began to unwrap his hands.

“Why should I?” Tony quipped, before coming upon a realization. “Ah. You miss your little girlfriend, don’t you?”

“It’s the first time that Y/N’s had to travel away since she moved in here. So yes, I do.”

Y/N, being an actress with high demands, often had to go away for filming, press, premieres, and more. Most of the time, Steve was okay with it. He understood that she had places to be, especially since he had a such a time consuming job himself. But since the couple began living with each other, they’d basically been attached at the hip, and separation was extremely difficult. Even if it was just filming for a single week in Los Angeles.

“I see, I see. You’re angry and horny.” Stark nodded, earning a harsh glare from the Captain. “What? It’s perfectly explainable. Though, not a reason to ruin my equipment, considering that she comes back tonight. But still, explainable. Hell, I’d be pretty pissed if I didn’t have sex for a week, too.”

“Just vanilla sex.” The pair heard the redhead mumble, who still hadn’t looked up from her treadmill’s display screen, and was oblivious to the attention suddenly being on her.

“What did you just say?” Tony asked, his lips beginning to form into a smirk.

“Oh, me?” Natasha tried to brush it off, having honestly not meant to say that. “Nothing.”

“Really?” Tony rose his eyebrows. “Because to me, it sounded like you said ‘vanilla sex’.”

“I didn’t mean it.” The assassin lied, continuing to run a steady pace.

Stark completely ignored her statement. “And you said it when referring to Steve and Y/N’s sex. Oh goodness, this is hysterical. Do you know something, Natasha, that we don’t?”

“What does ‘vanilla sex’ mean?” Steve questioned, beginning to get worried of what their answer will be.

“You know, boring, ordinary, plain… vanilla.” Tony explained, his grin never dying. “Who told you that, Romanoff?” He slyly moved over to the treadmills, and leaned a hand on the one that she was using. Steve’s slightly nervous face was just urging him on even more. “Because Rogers, over here, certainly didn’t say it. So by default, it must have been, hm… Y/N.”

“Well-“

“Did she?” The Captain interrupted her, his frown now extremely prominent to them. “Did she say that our sex was ’vanilla’?”

“Um, well… yes.” Natasha spoke, stopping the exercise to give Steve her full attention. The newly formed slump in his posture did not go unnoticed.

“Oh.” The man spoke, now having a hard time putting words together. “I-I thought she liked it.” He gulped, beginning to have flashbacks to all of the women that rejected him in his early years.

“She did!” Natasha tried to cheer him up. “A whole lot.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.” Steve ground his teeth.

“No, I swear!” The woman continued. “She loves that ‘babydoll’ thing you do. And-And, uh, you said ‘good girl’ once. She told me that she went crazy inside!”

Steve listened intently, trying to take notes in his head.

“Damn, Cap.” Tony chuckled. “Sounds like you’ve got yourself a submissive little lover.”

The blonde ignored him. “Why didn’t she tell me any of this then?”

Natasha sighed, moving over to her gym bag to collect her belongings. “Because she loves you, and she doesn’t want you to think she’s weird.”

“Oh. I would never-“

“Exactly.” Romanoff stated. “Tell her that. Ask her to show you what she likes. Communicate.”

Steve nodded his head. “Thanks for the new information.” And without another word, slung his bag over his shoulder, exiting the gymnasium.

The other two Avengers just shook their heads and continued on, completely unaware of their Captains plans to make Y/N’s first night back the best night yet.

*****

An odd mix of awkwardness and sexual tension filled the atmosphere of the Stark Tower elevator. Steve had just picked Y/N up from the airport, excited to get his hands on his girl once again. Seven days apart was just seven too many for the pair, and as soon as the got within closed doors, they were on top each other. Y/N was caged in between Steve and the elevator’s wall, letting out small moans into his mouth as they kissed. The moment was pure bliss for the two, finally being reunited after what seemed like the longest week of their lives. What they hadn’t expected though, was the elevator doors opening to the one and only Dr. Bruce Banner.

After a moment of shock and the couple chaotically separating from each other, the scientist quietly shuffled into the lift. He leaned against the wall, making sure it was opposite of the one that Steve and Y/N we’re just making out against.

“So,” Bruce broke the silence after an uncomfortable minute, “how was your trip, Y/N?”

“Uh, it was really good.” She smiled halfheartedly, trying not to mind the fact that she was absolutely disheveled. “Lots of sun down there.”

Banner just nodded his head, eyes focused on the floor.

“How was your day, Bruce?” Steve nicely asked, hoping that there wasn’t any of Y/N’s lipgloss smeared on his face.

“It was fine.”

The hum of the elevator was the only thing heard, until a small ‘ding’ alerted Steve and Y/N that it was their time to get off.

“Nice seeing you.” The girl gave a tiny wave as she stepped out.

“Yes, you too.” Banner politely smiled, but the couple didn’t miss the way it quickly disappeared when he thought that they were out of eyesight.

The elevator doors finally closed, leaving the couple alone at last. Steve placed down her luggage, that he was carrying, and Y/N let out a huge sigh.

“Well, that-“ She was cut off by Steve’s lips once again attaching themselves onto hers.

He quickly swept her up into his strong arms, her legs involuntary wrapping themselves around his waist. Y/N’s back met the wall, the door, and finally the bed as she was harshly shoved upon it, almost as harshly as Steve’s hands squeezed her ass. His lips trailed down her neck and chest, giving rough bites along the way.

“Wait, wait, Steve.” She said when he finally gave her the chance, tapping his shoulder multiple times to get his attention.

“Ya?” He reluctantly lifted his head from her still clothed chest.

“Wha-What the hell was that?” Y/N asked him, eyebrows furrowed.

“What was what?”

“That. You never act like that-that rough.” She was confused at his new change behaviour. Normally her Steve was much more gentle.

He sighed and shook his head, before getting off of her to stand up. “There’s just no pleasing you, is there?”

“Huh?” Y/N spoke, still laid out on the bed.

“I thought that you wanted this.” Steve was frustrated. All that he wanted to do was please her and she was making it impossible.

“I never said that.” She told him.

“I was trying to make things better for you.” He continued pacing angrily. “I didn’t want you think that our sex was... ‘vanilla’!”

Y/N gasped and sat up straight. “D-Did Natasha-?”

“Yes. Natasha told me.” Steve stated. He finally took a breath and placed his hands in his lips.

She gulped. “Nat promised to not-”

“So you did say it?”

Y/N had never seen the man look so hurt. “Well, yes. But-”

Steve puffed a breath before turning around to face away from her.

“But, Steve.” She stood up and quickly walked to the place in front of him, making them face to face. “I wasn’t meaning it in a bad way.”

“There’s only one way to mean it, Y/N.” He frowned.

“It’s not your fault, though. I never told you any of this.” She placed her hands on his broad shoulders, and rubbed in what she hoped was a comforting manner.

“Then tell me.” Steve spoke up. “Tell me how you like it.”

“What if you think I’m a weirdo?” Y/N asked.

“Not possible. Look, uhm...” He separated from her touch, walking across the room to Y/N’s small laptop that sat on their dresser. “Let’s research.”

“Research?” She giggled.

“Ya! Come on, we can look things up on the internet. Sex things.” Steve added, a smile finally beginning to form in his face. “You tell me what you like, I’ll tell you what I like. We can make a night out of it!”

“Ok.” Y/N beamed at how adorable her boyfriend was being.

The couple took off their shoes and socks to get comfortable, before Steve grabbed the laptop and moved to sit on the bed first. “C’mon, babydoll.” He smirked, patting his lap. Y/N slightly licked her lips and Steve could completely sense the increase in her arousal. “There’s one! That turned you on, I can tell.”

Y/N blushed. “You caught me.”

The couple sat there for almost an hour, going through countless lists of sexual kinks and activities online. Y/N in Steve’s lap, the laptop in her’s. She offered to let him try using it, maybe help him get used to technology, but he declined. He knew that she could get it done much faster, and instead, Steve had the job of scribbling down some of their opinions on his notepad.

“Foot fetish.” Y/N read off from one of the kinky websites they were on. “You got one?” She asked, playfully rubbing his bare feet with her smaller ones.

“I wouldn’t say so.” He answered with a small chuckle. “Though your’s are quite adorable.”

“Their way to ticklish to anything with, anyways.” Y/N added, continuing to scroll through.

“What’s ‘urophilia’?” Steve questioned from over her shoulder.

“Um, you know... peeing on each other.”

“Sounds messy.” He remarked, making Y/N laugh.

“Swinging, group sex, threesomes?” She listed off, already knowing her own opinion on them.

“I don’t share.” Steve stated, making her turn slightly to face him.

“That works out, because I don’t want to be shared.” Y/N smiled, giving him a peck on the lips before turning back to the website. “Anal sex?”

“Jesus.” He puffed out a breath. “How do you feel about that one?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest.” She contemplated. “But never say never.”

Steve glanced up from his notes to the small computer screen, and read off the next one. “Dominance and submission?”

“Well... maybe that would be something I’d want to try.” Y/N told him, playing with his fingers sheepishly.

“I think we found a winner.” Steve joked. “My little submissive girl.”

“Wait.” She turned to face him once again. “Now, how did you know that I want to be the submissive one?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I still remember when we made out on our fifth date, and you told me that you liked it when I was dominant with you.”

Y/N scrunched up her nose. “You and your stupid eidetic memory.”

Steve let out a laugh before grabbing the computer from her and closing the screen, setting it and the notepad down on his bedside table.

“What was that for?” She asked him.

His big hands grabbed her hips and completely turned her so she was straddling him, eye to eye. “I’m getting impatient, sweetheart. All of this sex talk is making me want to get down to business.”

Y/N giggled and bit her bottom lip.

“Just tell me, my love. Lay it on me.” Steve encouraged. “All of it, every last thing. What do you like?”

She began to relax, the feeling of him rubbing circles on her hips with his thumbs being comforting. “Okay... so yes, I do like it when you’re dominant and I’m submissive. But, I don’t necessarily like being hurt that much.”

“Like whips and things?” Steve questioned.

“Ya, I don’t really think I want that.” Y/N told him. “To be honest, how rough you are doesn’t really matter to me. A lot of what I like is psychological.”

“Explain, darling.”

“Well, like, you know... names and stuff.” She picked at her fingers nervously, never having had a conversation like this before. Y/N was a virgin until she met Steve, and these secrets were buried deep inside of her.

“Like the name ‘babydoll’?” He assumed, toying with the straps of her sundress.

“Including that, yes.” She gulped. “But, there’s a bit more to it than that. I, uh...”

“Hey.” Steve lifted up her chin and rubbed her jawline soothingly. “No secrets, remember?”

Y/N nodded with small smile. “Have you, um, have you ever heard of a ‘daddy kink’?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “A ‘daddy kink’? Like, a kink about your father?”

“No!” She shook her head repeatedly. “Not my father. It’s not a father kink, or a dad kink. It’s a daddy kink.” Y/N watched as Steve’s head tilted even harsher in confusion, and let out a sigh. “Forget it, it’s stupid.”

He stopped her from moving off of his lap by placing a strong arm around her torso. “No, I’m not going to forget it until you at least explain this whole thing to me.” Steve could see the doubt still in her beautiful eyes. “I won’t judge you, doll.”

“Fine. Um, a daddy kink is where a man is the ‘daddy’ role, and the woman is the ‘little girl’ role. Or it’s a ‘little boy’, depending on the circumstances.” Y/N explained, trying to stay confident in her decision to share this with him. “A-And it’s not that I picture my father or anything, ew, gross.” Steve chuckled, urging her on. “It’s you calling me your ‘baby girl’ and ‘princess’, rewarding me when I’m good, punishing me when I’m bad. It’s that I like feeling safe and protected and nurtured, but yet also dominated.” She finished, letting out the huge breath that she was holding.

“There. That wasn’t so hard to explain, was it?” He smiled at her. “And it’s nothing to be ashamed about. The idea of protecting and nurturing you is actually quite... sexy to me, if I’m being honest.”

“Really?” Y/N asked hopefully.

“Yes, really.” Steve rubbed her lower back. “I’d be more than willing to try this stuff out with you,” he lightly pushed her closer and whispered in her ear, “my little girl.” The sound of Steve calling her that sent chills down Y/N’s spine, and he instantly picked up on it. “Oh yes, I can already see the effect on you, baby. I bet you’re already dripping wet for me.” One of his hands ventured further south, slipping underneath her dress and into her underwear.

Y/N gasped at the feeling of Steve’s left thumb and forefinger slightly push into her opening at the same time.

He pulled the hand out and inspected it, watching her juices gleam in the light from their lamp. Steve let out a huge smirk, realizing that all of this was because of him. “One for me.” He licked off the index finger. “And one for you.”

Y/N glanced at the dripping thumb hesitantly, realizing that Steve expected her to suck off her own juices.

“C’mon, babydoll. Open up.” He urged, bringing the digit closer to her mouth. “Be a good girl for your daddy.”

And there it was, the final word. After their intense discussion, Y/N was relatively sure that he would say it sometime or another. But actually hearing him, in his deep, husky voice call himself ‘daddy’, she was pretty sure that she could cum right then and there.

So, Y/N did what she was told and opened up, taking his thick thumb in her mouth. Her juices were kind of sweet, a little tangy, but the real turn on was Steve’s facial expression as he watched her do it. He looked so turned on and it made her proud, as all she wanted was to be good for him.

Y/N released his thumb with a quiet ‘pop’ and licked her lips.

“My girl is such a good listener, doing exactly what her daddy tells her.” Steve praised, watching her pupils dilate by his every word.

“Thank you.” She said to him, voice becoming much smaller than it was earlier, a fact that Steve picked up on.

“‘Thank you’ who?”

“Thank you, daddy.” Y/N smiled, glad that Steve seemed to be enjoying this as much as she was. At least, that’s what the hard evidence pressed against her inner thigh said.

“Hmm... what am I ‘gonna do with you tonight?” He smirked, trying to formulate their evening plans in his head. This was Y/N’s first time completely opening up to him, and Steve wanted to make it perfect. “On your knees, baby girl.”

She did exactly as he told her, getting on the carpeted floor with no complaints. Steve was taking to this dominant role very well, and though it didn’t surprise her, it delighted her to no end.

He dropped his brown leather belt to the floor, before pulling down his khakis and boxer briefs, kicking them off of his ankles.

Y/N, once again, stared wide eyed at his huge erection, the size never ceasing to amaze her.

“You know what to do, baby.” Steve nodded down at her, watching as she opened her mouth wide and took him in. The feeling of the warm opening made him groan, throwing his head back. “Fuck, Y/N.”

She continued to bob her head up and down, taking enjoyment to the feeling of Steve’s big hands weaving themselves into her hair. He was forcing himself further down her throat, and she welcomed every inch.

Y/N wrapped her hands around his dick, as well, rubbing all of the areas that her mouth couldn’t reach. She could feel Steve beginning to fall apart inside of her, tasting his salty precum.

“Oh, god. Sweetie, stop, stop, stop.” He reluctantly pulled Y/N off of him, knowing that if she continued as she did, he’d cum too early.

“Did I mess up, daddy?” She asked, big E/C eyes staring up at him.

“Quite the opposite, princess.” Steve leaned down to pick up Y/N from under the arms, and placed her on the large bed. “You were so good, that daddy wants to reward you.”

He slipped off her panties, immediately licking a stripe up her pussy. “Oh, god. D-Daddy, that feels so nice.” She moaned, subconsciously tightening her thighs around his head. Steve’s hands decided to roughly grasp them, pulling her opening even closer to his stubbled cheeks.

His warm tongue rotated between circling her clit and teasing her opening, a fact that made Y/N’s hands claw at the stark white sheets. “I-I’m ‘gonna-“

“You’re ‘gonna what?” Steve questioned, taking a small pause from lapping at her core before immediately going back to it. The taste of her on his tongue was just too tempting. “Use your big girl words, babydoll.” He rasped against her clit, the vibrations arousing her even more.

“C-Cum. I’m ‘gonna cum.” Y/N stuttered out, hands grasping his blonde locks. And without warning, her hot, sticky juices flooded Steve’s mouth. He made sure to lick up every delicious drop, before standing up and throwing off his shirt.

Steve glanced down at his mess of a girlfriend on the bed, admiring his work. Y/N’s dress was bunched up around her hips, her cheeks flushed red, and hair strewn. But to him, she never looked more gorgeous.

“Tired, baby?” Steve basically taunted, knowing that he was going to wreck her even more no matter what her answer was.

Y/N nodded in response, the heavy breathing not allowing her to do much more.

“Well,” he began to crawl up the bed, getting closer to her, “that’s too bad, because daddy’s not done with you yet.”

Y/N inhaled a breath as Steve harshly lifted the dress over head, chucking it on the ground. He grabbed her waist and flipped her over, sending a hard smack to her bare ass.

“You going to be a good girl and take daddy’s cock?” He grunted in her ear before stepping away to grab a condom from the beside table, putting it on.

“Yes, daddy.” Y/N whined, lightly pushing her bottom against his member when he moved closer, practically begging for him to give it to her.

“That’s what I thought.” Steve stated, and without warning, pushed inside of her dripping hole. “Fuck, baby girl.” He groaned at the feeling of her walls around him.

Steve began to thrust in and out of her at a brutal pace, the sight of her being helpless beneath him making him uncontrollable. He reached one hand around their bodies and began to play with her breasts, hearing Y/N moan even louder.

Her face met the bedding, having a hard time keeping herself up as he fucked her from behind. Steve’s thick member was hitting all of the right spots of inside of her, and each time he squeezed her nipples, she felt even closer to cumming.

“D-Daddy.” Y/N mewled, feeling his other hand move southern to her clit. The combined stimulation of him touching her breasts, clitoris, and pounding into her vagina was all too much. So with a high pitched moan, she came for the second time that night.

“Damn, little girl. You’re going to make daddy cum.” Steve growled in her ear, leaning down to leave sloppy kisses on her upper back.

Y/N, knowing that he was on edge, used all of the power that she could muster to give his cock and particularly strong clench. She began to grind her hips back into his, finally triggering his release.

“Fuck, doll.” Steve spoke as he came inside of the condom, heavier than he’s ever cum before.

The couple stayed in position, panting, for a minute before he slowly pulled out of her. Y/N immediately collapsed on the bed as Steve threw out the used condom, joining her quickly after.

“Wow.” She breathed out, turning over on her back. “You were really good at that dominant daddy thing.”

Steve lightly chuckled. “Well, strategizing is what I do best.”

Y/N finally moved on her side to face him, grabbing his left hand in her right one. “I’m so sorry, Steve, about what you found out earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He shook his head with a sigh, rubbing her palm with the pads of his fingers.

She retracted her hand and leaned up on her elbow, looking in to his shiny blue eyes. “No, no. You shouldn’t have had to hear it and I definitely shouldn’t have said it. It was disrespectful to you and I’m very sorry.” Y/N’s other hand stroked his arm, trying to express how apologetic she was really feeling. “Our first time together was one of the best nights of my whole life. And vanilla or not, I truly love having sex with you.”

Steve leaned up on his elbow as well, giving her his full attention. “Listen, baby. The way I’m looking at it, if that wouldn’t have happened, this wouldn’t have happened. So I more than forgive you. I love you, Y/N.” He tucked a stray H/C hair behind her ear. “And I will be your ‘daddy’ as long as you want me to.”

She giggled and gave him a nod. “I love you too.”

The pair laid down flat on their backs, and Steve pulled Y/N into his side. They simply relaxed in each other’s company, thankful to even have these small moments of tranquility in their busy lives. The room smelt of sweat, sex, and love, but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So,” Steve interrupted the silence with a sly grin, “another round?”

Ah, that damn super soldier stamina was going to be the death of her.

Next Chapter

Feedback is always welcome!❤️

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freudensteins-monster · 4 years

Text

A Banner Reunion

A WinterShock follow up to A Banner Day. Set post Age of Ultron and Ragnarok, not really Civil War compliant, and there’s no Thanos or looming Infinity War. Also posted on AO3.

The first person Bucky Barnes met as he stepped off the last quinjet out of Wakanda was Darcy Lewis. She looked more uptight than her file photo would suggest (Bucky had read the files of all facility staff on the flight over, and Darcy’s maybe twice), and seemed to have taken Pepper Potts as her style icon. The wavy brown hair from her file photo was pulled back in a tight bun, and the colourful sweaters and jeans had been replaced by a sharp business suit and sharper heels.

“Good morning, Sergeant Barnes. I’m Darcy Lewis. I manage the upstate facility and act as the team’s PR manager. I’ll also be acting as a liaison between the facility, your legal team, and other interested parties. If you have any questions, day or night, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

She handed him a crisp white business card. Bucky took it with his shiny new Wakandan arm, noting a complete lack of reaction from Miss Lewis.

“Science Wrangler?” he read aloud.

“I have new ones on order,” she replied with a long-suffering sigh.

“Thank you, Miss Lewis,” he smiled, tucking the business card into his jacket pocket. “But all I really want to know right now is which way to the mess hall?”

Miss Lewis smiled, but before she could respond Steve clapped him on the shoulder and led him away for a second breakfast.

Over the next couple of weeks he received dozens of updates via Miss Lewis from his legal team about their attempts to have him cleared of all charges relating to the crimes he committed as the Winter Soldier (and the few he committed after), but he never saw her outside of their meetings. Not in the mess hall, not at team movie nights, not even in passing. According to Steve she was drowning in work and pretty much lived in her office. She needed help but had refused to hire assistants, not trusting the vetting process with all the enemies the Avengers had accumulated.

Feeling guilty, and just a little too curious for his own good, Bucky went in search of her office. He heard her before he saw her. It sounded like she was having the argument of the century with a disgruntled voice that reminded him of his old drill instructor. He was going to leave her to it and try again later when he heard his name being thrown about. He crept closer, keeping out of sight of Darcy and the holograph she was arguing with.

“How can you stand there denying the dangers posed by enhanced individuals when you’re harbouring the fugitive James Buchanan Barnes, the most prolific assassin in living memory?”

Bucky winced but Darcy narrowed her eyes at the hologram and stood her ground.

“Sergeant Barnes’ location is not a secret, nor is he a fugitive. He surrendered himself to the Wakandan authorities and per the agreement his legal representation made with the US government - which you’re well aware of, I remember how much you bitched about it in the press - he is on house arrest at this facility until his trial commences, if it ends up going ahead at all. And if you think he’s going to give up what little freedom he has now and could have in the future and sign this joke of a document, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Her opponent sneered. “Last I checked, Miss Lewis, you weren’t a lawyer.”

“Not yet, anyway. But I did pass my Civics 101 class, and I watched a lot of SchoolHouse Rock! as a kid: This is not a bill, or a law, or an official policy of the US Government. Even if it gets ratified by the UN, you cannot enforce it as it goes against the Constitution and violates a US citizen’s 4th, 5th, 6th, and 8th Amendment rights.”

“Wanda Maximoff-“

“-is a dual Sokovian-US citizen; I made sure of it. And if you can somehow round up a bunch of asshole commandos willing to enforce this PR nightmare to appease your bruised ego, the governor of New York - who gifted this land to the Avengers - and all his friends on Capitol Hill are going to have something to say about it. Especially after the so-called World Security Council tried to nuke his hometown while the Avengers were risking their lives to save his constituents from aliens. So,” she continued, tossing the intimidated stack of paper aside and waiting for it to hit her desk with a satisfying thump before continuing, “until you can put together something less offensive than this pile of crap, we don’t have anything more to talk about.”

“Listen here you little-“

“Sorry Thad, you’re breaking up. I think your country club is going through a tunnel.”

Darcy disconnected the holographic video call with a wave of her hand and fell into the closest chair with a dramatic groan.

“Wow…” Bucky remarked, stepping into her office. “I take it we don’t like that guy.”

“We really don’t like that guy,” Darcy concurred, tossing her heels across the room in irritation.

“What’s his deal?”

“General Ross’ deal is that he wants all the power. And since superheroes have lots of power he wants them, preferably conscripted into service of the US government or locked up in a submersible military black site paid for with taxpayer dollars that he thinks I don’t know about. He’s been this way ever since Bruce’s accident.” At Bucky’s lack of recognition she continued, “Bruce was trying to replicate the supersoldier serum for the US Military, reporting to General Ross. Things went boom, Bruce turned into the Hulk, escaped Ross’ clutches and went on the run. Under the guise of bringing the Hulk in, Ross approved another human trial of the supersoldier serum. He ended up creating what the media dubbed as “the Abomination” – twice the rage of the Hulk, none of the ability to reconnect with his humanity. And while Bruce was forced to go back into hiding for the next five years for his part in destroying Harlem, General Ross didn’t even get knocked down a rank. The bastard shouldn’t be able to breathe in DC’s direction, let alone have a hand in policing “enhanced individuals,” so naturally he makes a perfect choice for Secretary of State,” she scoffed.

Bucky watched her for a moment before reaching out to help her up from her chair. “You look like you could use a drink. C’mon, I’m buying.”

“Dude, it’s like 10am,” Darcy argued, but took his hand regardless.

Two floors down and one building over in the facility cafeteria Bucky watched on with barely disguised amusement as Darcy made love to her Mocha Frappuccino.

“Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff.”

She’d put on some flats and discarded her jacket before leaving her office, and once they were seated and waiting for their drinks she set her glasses down on the table and took down her hair.

Bucky loved the way she smiled when she was able to let go of the stress of her job, even if it was only for a moment, so he did what he could to give her more of them. Tuesday morning coffee breaks became a regular occurrence, and if she missed dinner Bucky would check in on her to make sure she took a break and ate something. Eventually he asked her to schedule all their meetings and anything to do with his legal issues as her last tasks of the day, that way if she was snowed under and running late he had an excuse to invite her to join him for dinner afterwards. He was working up the nerve to ask her to dinner without the pretense of work when the Asgardians arrived.

Steve stood beside him, watching as the huge ship landed just beyond the facility's - and Bucky’s - boundaries.

“So it’s true?” Darcy asked, out of breath from the short run from the administration building. “He’s really back?”

“Yeah, Thor’s back. You were there when he crash landed the first time, right?” Steve asked.

“She tased him,” Bucky informed him with a smirk. “I read the report.”

“Yeah, I totally tased him. And introduced him to Pop-Tarts. But I also lost him in the breakup – it’s been, like, almost two years since I last saw him.”

It didn’t stop her waving like a lunatic the moment Thor ambled down the spaceship’s ramp, a small village worth of people following close behind him.

“Oh, this is going to be so much paperwork…” Darcy muttered as the god caught sight of them.

“My friends! Lady Darcy!!”

“Thor! What the hell happened to your eye?” she asked when he wrapped her up in one of his godly hugs.

“It’s a long story, lightning sister.”

“Did you bring all of Asgard with you?” Steve asked as he and Bucky watched the strangely dressed visitors make the most of the sunshine and soft grass.

“As many as we could save,” Thor admitted somberly. “I know that their arrival will cause some problems for your world’s governments but any aid you could provide my people in our time of need would be gratefully appreciated. A new homeland, perhaps?” he added, managing to do pretty decent puppy dog eyes even with only one good one.

“I’ll make some calls,” Darcy offered, flashing Thor an indulgent smile.

“Thank you, my lightning sister. And for your efforts, I have brought you a souvenir.”

“Space souvenir? Cool!”

“Aye, very cool,” he smirked, putting a hand around her shoulders and directing her gaze to where a man wearing psychedelic monk robes was trying to make his way through the crowd of Asgardians.

Darcy’s expression fell and Bucky almost rushed to her side.

“Bruce?”

At the sound of his name the man looked up and regarded Darcy sheepishly.

“Hey, bunny.”

“Bruce!!” Darcy was off like a shot, shoes abandoned in the grass as she all but threw herself on the new arrival. “What the hell happened to you? I hacked everyone trying to find you but not even Phil had eyes on you. Why didn’t you call me!” she cried, hugging him so tightly Bucky was worried the guy might not be able to breathe.

“I’m so sorry Darcy. I was stuck in Hulk mode up until a couple of days ago. He was like a gladiator on this trash planet in the outer reaches of the universe. It was crazy.”

“Not as crazy as these clothes, dude,” she teased with a sniffle, tugging on the gold vestments.

“Yeah, they’re a lot. But I had to Hulk out again on Asgard and these were the only spare clothes lying around on the spaceship. Oh, I gotta introduce you to some new friends,” he exclaimed excitedly, leading Darcy back towards the spaceship.

Bucky watched her go, his heart breaking at the sight of her reuniting with her fella. She’d mentioned Bruce a few times, but he hadn’t realised they had been an item. Maybe, since he’d apparently disappeared on her, it had been too painful for her to talk about. Bucky left Steve and Thor to organise the SHIELD agents that had descended to deal with the alien incursion, and left Darcy to her reunion.

In the weeks that followed Bucky hardly saw Darcy at all. She was spearheading talks with the Norwergian government to establish New Asgard within their borders and spent the rest of her time managing the needs of the refugees who had set up a temporary camp in the field where they landed. She was also fending off demands for the arrest of Thor’s brother, who apparently was more hated and feared than the Winter Soldier was.

In an effort to reduce her workload Bucky had offered to deal with his legal team directly, even though he hated how they talked down to him when giving him updates. But it made Darcy’s life easier so he took it on, often bringing Steve in on their conference calls to act as a buffer when he felt he was close to snapping at one of his condescending but very, very good lawyers.

Now that he had no reason to bother Darcy he saw her even less than when he first arrived, though he did hear that Bruce had dragged her out of her office once or twice for a late dinner. They never seemed as touchy feely as they had when they were first reunited and they hadn’t spent any time alone together behind closed doors (not that he’d checked security footage). Maybe they weren’t together any more - a lot can happen in two years, Bucky mused. Maybe Bruce had moved on - he was always gushing about that intimidating and frequently drunk Valkyrie woman. Or maybe, Bucky hoped against hope, Darcy had. The question was keeping him up at night, and since Darcy was too busy to be bothered with his insecurities he sought out the famous Dr Bruce Banner.

Bucky found him a few days later, after another postponed coffee date, in one of the facilities labs, looking over some holographic schematics.

“Sergeant Barnes, it’s nice to see you again. What can I do for you?” Bruce greeted with a smile.

“I’m not interrupting?” he asked, gesturing at the complicated calculations.

“Not at all. It’s just a project Tony wants a second opinion on. It’s his way of saying “I missed you too,” he jested.

Bucky bit the bullet. “It’s about Darcy.”

“What about her?”

“I just… I feel like a real shitheel asking, but I gotta know; are you and Darcy together?”

“Together like…”

“Dating. Are you dating?”

Bruce’s eyes almost bugged out of his skull. “Did Tony put you up to this?”

“Stark and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms,” Bucky admitted.

“And Darcy never mentioned me? She said you two had been hanging out a lot before she got sidetracked with all the Asgardian refugee drama.”

“She mentioned you plenty. She just never mentioned that two of you were an item.”

“And she also never mentioned that I’m her father, I take it,” Bruce replied with a smirk.

“...What?”

“I’m her biological father. I am not dating her,” Bruce reiterated. “But I take it you want to?” he teased.

“Uh… yes?” he winced after his brain came back online after processing this new information. “Did you not want me to? I would understand,” he murmured, gesturing vaguely at his shiny new arm as though his bloody history was written on the metal plates.

“I don’t get to have a say in the matter,” Bruce remarked, not unkindly, as he returned most of his attention back to the glowing calculations. “and I’m kind of the last guy who should be giving you grief over things you did when you weren’t in full control of yourself. Besides, you’ve probably known her longer than I have at this point.” He smiled sadly at Bucky’s confused expression. “The first time I met Darcy was when she and Jane moved into Tony’s tower. She told me I was her biological father about two weeks later. Before that moment, I hadn’t even known I had a daughter. We had maybe three months of getting to know each other, eating takeout in my lab once a week, and then Ultron happened. I quite literally disappeared off the face of the earth. I come back, and she’s all grown up and practically running the world,” he laughed. “She’s also crushing pretty hard on a certain supersoldier, in case you were wondering.”

“Yeah, well, Steve is pretty cute I guess,” Bucky mused, ducking his head to hide the blush in his cheeks behind his hair.

Bruce smiled. “Ask her out, Sergeant.”

Bucky delivered a Mocha Frappuccino to Darcy’s office that night and asked her to have dinner with him whenever she found the time. She blushed something fierce as she said yes, and Bucky committed the image to memory.

A month later they were officially a couple, but with Darcy’s crazy workload and his looming trial they were taking things slow. He’d only kissed her goodnight a couple of times but he’d stopped resisting the urge he had to wrap Darcy up in his arms the second she was off the clock.

He was indulging in said urge the night of the Asgardian farewell party - the Norwegian deal had gone through pretty quickly all things considered, and Thor and the last of the Asgardians were heading out to New Asgard in the morning - when Tony Stark made his trademarked grand entrance. He had barely taken two steps out of his latest Iron Man suit when he pointed a finger in their direction.

“What’s the murderbot doing with his murderarm around my niece?”

“I’m not your niece, Tony,” Darcy called over everyone else's scolding.

“What are you talking about? Bruce is your bio dad, I’m his science bro; you’re totally my science niece.”

Darcy giggled. “That’s not a thing, Tony. And to answer your totally offensive question; we’re dating.”

“No, I forbid it.”

“You don’t get to have an opinion.”

“Of course I do. Everyone loves hearing my opinions.”

“We really don’t,” Bucky heard Steve mutter into his beer.

“I don’t want to hear them, Tony. I’m a big girl and I make my own choices.”

“You make terrible choices,” Tony mumbled petulantly.

“I tell Pepper the same thing all the time,” she teased.

“How dare you!” Tony gasped, feigning offence. “Do I at least get to give the Russian menace the shovel talk?”

“No, no shovel talks. I don’t want you scaring him off.”

“If the Hulk didn’t scare me off, doll, nothing will.”

“Awww.”

“That’s not the way I remember it,” Bruce chimed in.

“Shut up,” Bucky retorted over Bruce’s chuckles. “Besides, I already got the shovel talk from Valkyrie. She takes her role as angry-mom very seriously.”

“Who’s Valkyrie? Wait, did you say mom?!” Tony squawked, turning to demand answers from Bruce.

“Hulk like angry girl,” Thor teased.

“Where is she? Is she here? I have to meet her.”

“Tony! Tony, stop. She went to New Asgard two days ago. No! Step away from the suit!”

As everyone one laughed at Bruce trying to keep Tony away from his suit Darcy leant in close, sending a shiver down Bucky’s spine as she whispered in his ear.

“How about I say goodbye to Thor and you walk me back to my room, Sergeant?”

Bucky smiled. “Whatever you want, doll.”

#a banner reunion #darcy lewis is bruce banner's daughter #not that bucky knows that #wintershock #darcy lewis/bucky barnes #darcy lewis #bucky barnes #bruce banner #thor #steve rogers #tony stark

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coyotesongwriting · 5 years

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When It Rains, It Pours - Ch. 13

Avengers - Bucky Barnes/Reader

Chapter 13 - Family First

Story Summary: Things are going great between you and Bucky, until one day they aren’t. He dumps you, not knowing that what you’d wanted to talk to him about was the positive pregnancy test you held behind your back.

Chapter Summary: Family always comes first. Also, Tony’s a brat

Author’s Note: Thank you guys for reading this, all mistakes are my own!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

Tag List (if you want to be added or removed let me know!): @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @queenoftheunderdark @samsgoddess @redfoxwritesstuff @iheartsebastianstan @alexakeyloveloki @fookingmuffins @yasnooshka24 @redfoxwritesstuff @amazon-belle @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @kinkywitchy @superwonderwholock @redhairedfeistynerd @paranoiadestroyah @cool-kids-cant-be-dead @sarcastic-and-cool

Previous Chapter

Two months after he disappeared, Loki returned. At first you tried to avoid him but he refused to give up that easily, and kept trailing you at every turn. Every time he approached you, you turned and went the other way before he could even get a word out. After a week of being basically stalked by him, you finally caved. Aspen was back on Midgard visiting Bucky with Sif and Thor, and you’d been on your way back to your room when you decided you’d had enough.

You’d grabbed his arm and shoved him into your room without saying a word, and he went along with it willingly. Taking a seat in your favorite chair, you waited impatiently for him to speak. He sat in the chair facing yours, and cleared his throat nervously.

“[Y/N], I know you’re pissed at me and you have every reason to be. I just… I need you to know I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Loki sighed.

“Then why didn’t you stop it? You could have come clean at any point, Loki. Instead, you kept quiet and Aspen and I paid the price for it. Would you ever… were you ever going to tell me?”

“I… don’t know. When everything happened, we were just acquaintances. I barely knew you. Sure I felt bad about the two of you splitting up but we’d never really talked and I just.. Yeah. But then you came here and we became friends, and then family, and you always stood up for me to others when no one else did and I didn’t know how to tell you” Loki admitted.

“But did you really think it would be better if I never found out? If I just spent my life thinking Bucky didn’t love me and that’s why he left? How was that the better option?”

“I just didn’t want you to hate me” he whispered, glancing at the ground before meeting your eyes, “I knew I needed to tell you but I just couldn’t do it. You’re the sister I never wanted, and I was afraid you’d hate me and leave us when you found out.”

“Of course I’d be mad, Loki. This all sucks and I’d have been downright pissed. But you didn’t, and now I’m just hurt and I know you didn’t mean to cause me pain but you did a damn good job of it. Instead you lied to me, at least through omission. You had almost two years to tell me the truth, and you didn’t. That’s what hurts the most. If you’d just told me before we could have talked this out dammit. Instead I’m now fighting with my brother and my ex.”

“I know. I get it, I just. At first I didn’t care but then I did and I didn’t know how to tell you and then everyday it felt like if I told you it would only hurt worse and I felt more guilty about it every damned day so I only felt worse and I just kept going round and round and I’m sorry. I know I can’t fix it but I need you to know I’m sorry…”

You said nothing, your thoughts racing. You understood where he was coming from. He’d suffered a lot in his life, so while you didn’t agree, you could understand how he’d be too afraid to speak up. The look on his face made it clear it wasn’t lying. You’d spent enough time with him over the years to know he was being truthful, and was honestly apologetic about what had happened. Knowing he didn’t mean to implode your life didn’t mean you magically forgave him though.

After what felt like hours, Loki got to his feet and began to head towards the door, unwilling to even look at you, “I’m sorry [Y/N]. I’ll leave you alone, I won’t bother you again.”

Before he could leave the room you jumped to your feet and gently grabbed his arm to stop him, “Loki. I’m mad at you of course, but we’re still family. I didn’t mean what I said, I don’t want you to go away forever. But I need space and time. I don’t forgive you, not yet at least, but I don’t hate you. You’ll always be my annoying brother, even when you fuck up. Okay?”

Loki looked at your hand on his arm before looking up at you, his eyes sad, “Thank you… And I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” you wrapped him in a quick hug, his arms quickly wrapping around you in return. After a brief moment you stepped back out of his reach, “I’ll see you around, okay? Just give me a little while please.”

Loki nodded and shot you a sad smile before he slipped out of the room. It felt good to have at least cleared the air with him. Eventually, you’d forgive him but right now you didn’t want to even spend too much time with him, it was just a reminder of everything.

~~Three Weeks Later~~

It had been three months since you’d last seen Bucky, and it was killing you. You just kept replaying the conversation in your head every night, remembering how he looked when he finally told you the truth like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Every time you remembered that look though, you felt the familiar stab as you recalled his callous words the night he’d ended your relationship.

You hadn’t been able to stomach the idea of going to see Bucky yet, but luckily Sif had offered to keep going back for you. You’d halfheartedly tried to convince her that she didn’t need to, but she’d insisted and you were too grateful to push too hard. You weren’t sure what you were going to do when she got tired of traveling back and forth for a day every two weeks, but you knew you had to come up with something soon.

If it wasn’t for the stubbornness of Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three you’d have withdrawn from everyone completely. At first, you’d tried just that. Clearly, you were better off alone if everyone was going to betray you. They never let you get far away, always dragging you into conversations and situations until you gave up on fighting for them. Finally, you were beginning to stop fighting them and had begun to let them back in.

They’d tried to get you to talk about Bucky, to Bucky, for weeks now without success. The highlight though was one day, right before Sif and Aspen’s last visit when you’d come back into your quarters with Aspen, to find the group all seated around your suite.

“Didn’t know we were having a party in here today?” You’d muttered as you took a seat with Aspen on the floor

“We’re here for something that Tony recommended” Thor started, a soft smile on his face.

At that point, you’d begun to quietly curse, this was going to be good. You tried to scoop Aspen back up and make a break for it but Hogun stepped forward to block you before you could even make it to the door. With a heavy sigh, you waited for him to continue. Even you hadn’t expected what came out of Thor’s mouth next.

“He said you may know it as an intervention? We’re supposed to tell you how what you’re doing affects us and why it’s important?” Thor sounded slightly unsure but optimistic. He was doing his best and it took everything in you not to bust out laughing.

“Thor… Did Tony tell you when an intervention is typically used…?” you questioned, barely concealing a smirk.

He shook his head, and you finally couldn’t hold the laughter in anymore, “Thor, brother, an intervention is mostly used when the person is an alcoholic or drug addict, and I feel like we all know neither of those fit me.”

Thor blanched as the others began to laugh and tease him, and you’d given him a gentle hug. He’d been trying to help and you loved that, but it also made you feel better to know that Tony was still setting him up in moments like this. After everyone agreed that an intervention was not in fact required in this scenario, it quickly became a night of swapping embarrassing stories. Honestly, it had ended up being just the night you had needed and you were so grateful for the failed intervention.

~~~~~~

The next day, Sif and Thor had traveled to Midgard with Aspen for their visit. Tony had laughed when he learned of the failed intervention and wished he had your face on camera. Thor had grumbled to him and they’d set off to talk.

Sif had pulled Bucky, Clint, and Steve aside as she began to tell them her plan. Steve had blushed profusely at Sif’s plan but she winked at him mischievously and assured him everything would be okay. They spent the entire day playing with Aspen while they figured out their master plans, including three backup plans. By the time sunset rolled around and it was time to leave, they were ready. Or, as ready as they would ever be.

~~~~~~

That had been a week ago. You were in the armory cleaning your equipment when Sif strolled in. She paused to lean against the door, one eyebrow cocked as she took in the scene in front of her. You were seated at the table, sharpening your dagger while Aspen sat at your feet, playing with her favorite stuffed animal.

“Is it even safe for her to be in here?” Sif smirked as you looked over to her.

“What safer place for a kid than in the armory? Besides, it’s never too early to start her training” you teased, “Nah, but seriously. She’s fine. I’ve got an eye on her, and this way I get to multitask!”

“We’ll start her training at 3, give her a few years to learn to walk reliably” Sif laughed, pulling up a seat next to you.

“Sounds perfect. I’m sure we’ll have her in fighting shape by the time she’s a teen” you snorted, setting down the freshly sharpened dagger on the table in front of her.

Sif nodded in approval as she ran her finger gently down the blade, “I’m not just here to judge you on your parenting. I need your help.”

You turned, giving her your (almost) full attention, “You know you need only ask Sif. After everything? I owe you whatever you need.”

“You say that, but you have no idea what I’ve come to ask.”

“You’re not really selling me on helping you, just so you know. What’s up?”

“I need you to come with me to Midgard next time.” she put her hand up to stop you before you could speak, “I’m not asking you to talk to Bucky. I need your help with Steve.”

“What..?” of all the things you’d expected to be asked, this was not one of them.

“I need you to come with me and tell me if I have a chance with him” she smirked playfully.

“Sif, feel free to take this the wrong way, but you can’t date him” you chuckled.

“Well, why the hell not? Are you going to tell me I’m not good enough for him or he’s not good enough for me?” Sif huffed, but the grin on her face belayed the anger.

“Sweetie, you’d break him. Literally. He may be a super soldier but I’m not sure he could withstand you.”

She grinned, “But can’t you let me try? I just need you to tell me if I’m reading him correctly. Pleaseeeeee. I promise I won’t make you talk to Bucky or anything like that.”

You sighed, you did owe her and she was pleading. You could never refuse her a favor like this, not when something like this could make her so happy if it worked. She’d hugged you tight and darn near skipped out of the room, and it didn’t dawn on you that something was seriously off.

That’s how you found yourself back here again, Aspen in your arms and butterflies in your stomach as you slowly walked into the tower. This time you didn’t bother asking Friday not to announce you. Might as well face the music, right?

The minute the elevator doors opened onto the lounge, Clint didn’t even give you a chance to get out before he had slung one arm over your shoulder. You smiled softly at him and strolled out of the elevator with him on your side.

Bucky was standing back in the main living space, giving you as much space as he could. He’d cut his hair and made sure he looked presentable today, at least according to Steve. All you saw though were those eyes that had stolen your heart from the start and it tightened painfully in your chest as you smiled softly at him.

You carefully passed him Aspen and turned to face Sif and Cap. She was resting her hand on his broad upper arm and doing everything she could to make it clear to him she was flirting. She’d even gone so far as to lean in and whisper in his ear, her lips brushing against him and causing his face to flash an almost violent shade of red. You couldn’t decide if he was horribly uncomfortable or just unsure of himself, so you knew you’d have to keep a close on him today.

Watching the two of them together, you couldn’t help but be jealous of what you’d lost and you began to shoot Bucky small glances. After a few minutes of that, you sighed and excused yourself, saying you were headed to the restroom. Before you could leave though, Clint muttered that he needed to speak with you privately afterward, and asked you to meet him in Banner’s lab.

Five minutes later, you entered the dark lab and began to walk around, waiting for Clint curiously. It wasn’t until you heard the low whir of the locks that you realized you’d been tricked. Banner’s lab also doubled as a safe containment area for the Hulk, and you knew that even Wanda struggled to have her powers affect anyone or anything outside the room.

You turned to face the door, and there stood Clint holding up a sign that simply said ‘Sorry!’. Cursing him under your breath, you asked Friday to turn the lights on. The lights slowly amped up, and you heard slow footsteps behind you.

You let out a soft sigh, you knew you’d been played. This had all been a ploy to get you back here and make you talk to him, and you’d fell for hook. line, and sinker. As the footsteps drew closer, you took a deep breath and turned to face him.

“Doll, can we please talk now?” Bucky asked softly, coming to a stop a few feet from you.

Next Chapter ->

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#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier x Reader #Winter Soldier #marvel the avengers #marvels the avengers #Marvel's The Avengers #Marvel #The Avengers #Avengers #Lady Sif #Loki

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authoressskr · 5 years

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Write Into My Arms [2]

Characters: f!Reader, James “Bucky” Barnes, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Peter Parker, Hope Van Dyne, Natasha Romanoff, Scott Lang, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Okoye, T’Challa, Shuri, Clint Barton, Happy Hogan, Dr. Strange, Wong, Bruce Banner, Amelina Rodrigez (OFC), with mentions of Thor, Carol Danvers, Rocket Raccoon, Groot, Peter Quill, Gamora, Nebula, Mantis and Drax.

Warnings: Language, Angst (mostly in last two chapters), Action (in last chapter) and no Beta (just me and Grammerly up in here) :: Word Count: 9491 :: Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

This was written for @jewelofwinter’s Writing Challenge!! I also incorporated a prompt for @jaamesbbarnes + @sgtjbuccky’s D&S’ Milestone Celebration!!

Prompt: “Tin Man lost Y/N.” (@jewelofwinter’s prompt) + “Publicly, I agree. Personally, I think it’s chickenshit.” (D&S’ prompt) Bolded in text below. Prompt #1 will appear in the third part while Prompt #2 appears in the second part. The next parts will be posted by the end of this week. All three will be linked.

Summary: You’re a small time blog writer who is invited to interview the Avengers. ALL the Avengers.

*Note for this chapter: Endgame happened - kind of. Steve didn’t go back to the 40s. Tony didn’t die. Natasha got brought back with the Bruce Snap. Bruce is not the Hulk mashup they had going on. Everything else happened. This takes place 3 years after defeating Thanos.*

[PART 1]

Please do NOT repost, copy & paste, post or share my works on any other platform without my EXPRESS PERMISSION.

-+- REBLOGGING is fine and very appreciated! -+-

Natasha’s interview is probably the most paced, filled with shocking details about the Red Room, where she was trained to be the Black Widow and her various roles in SHIELD, Stark Industries, and the Avengers - all while she throws knives at a target in the gun range. Intimidating.

She then takes you up to the gym, showing you how to throw someone twice your size over your shoulder and then you retreat to her room where lets you try out her fancy electric bracelet/glove thingies. Natasha talks about her relationship with Clint as she settles against her forest green velvet headboard - how he was the one to pull her out of that life...to give her a new start to help clear “the red in her ledger”.

“What changed? For you to take his help?”

“I was obedient. A perfect student. But I didn’t like what I did. I did it for the results they sought. I always accomplished my goal. I was broken. Broken and remade, broken and remade until I was what they desired.” She gives a harsh bark of laughter. “But Clint showed me there was another way. I have a skill set, he wasn’t asking me to live a lie - to go live a “normal” life. He was giving me a chance to save people instead of being a slave to ones who would never be concerned with me. The ones who had others to take my place should I ever fail.”

“So, you aren’t the only Black Widow Russia had?” You try to suppress a shudder at the horrible train of thought that brings forth merciless Black Widows and unstoppable Winter Soldiers.

“Oh no,” Natasha’s smile sends a chill down your spine and the terror, you realize, lies in the fact that everything she’s known before is death, pain, and the intricate ways in which to bring out about both. “I am the only Black Widow.” You nod jerkily before her smile softens and she reaches out to squeeze your hand reassuringly.

The sudden change in her demeanor is what causes your own to shift so rapidly. It sets forth a stunning revelation for you - she’s always wearing a mask. And that hurts.

It’s not like Tony, who has Pepper - who has known childhood and just feels things too deeply - so he wears a mask to protect himself...gives himself over to the persona he’s carefully crafted of lofty indifference.

It’s not Bucky, who had a regular childhood - as normal as one can have during the Depression, you suppose - who didn’t want to fight but went to war anyway. Who was torn and broken and wiped to be a weapon and now wears a mask to protect himself from everyone who sees him as the villain. But even he can always fall back on his normal upbringing for the first twenty-something years of his life.

Natasha had none of that. Absolutely none.

The sudden sadness comes from somewhere unknown but you feel it settle in your chest, a tightness that grabs hold of your lungs and heart, nearly stealing your breath away. What sort of people could do that to a child? Who could damage a person in so many ways for their own gain? Making them a weapon with the threat of always being offed if you failed. Everything feels heavy now and so you do the only thing you can; you turn your palm up and squeeze back in reassurance.

Natasha is amazingly open after that, suggesting a walk in the zen garden for you to finish up your fluff questions.

“I’m gonna take December. Santa Baby references all the way.”

“How do you like your coffee?”

“Depends on the day. Some days I need a venti caramel latte with three extra shots. Sometimes you just need a strong black coffee with a little room for some cream and sugar. Some days call for tea,” She shrugs as she finishes. “Just depends.”

Natasha is doing a rundown of the things in Russian she’d taught while you pack up your things from the cushioned bench, patience leaking from her very pores at your continued mix-ups. When she suggests testing them out on Bucky, you just shake your head - any nearly drop the recorder before shuffling your laptop from one arm to the other.

“I think Sergeant Barnes is a tough nut to crack. A solemn, mostly silent, tough nut.”

“Clint is a nut. Tony, an armor encrusted nut. Steve, a nut with the inability to long-term date. Bucky is not a nut. He is mostly silent, but that’s just part of who he is. A little solemn-seeming around new people. But Sam and him? Goofballs with a penchant for insulting and pranking each other. Give him some time.”

“That’s great, by the time I leave he’ll actually warm up to me.” A sigh escapes you, shifting your closed laptop from one arm to the other once again as Natasha and yourself make your way back to the living room from the very tranquil zen garden. You’ll need some more pictures of there for sure.

“Barnes is a softie at heart.”

“Is that so?” You jump at his voice, although Natasha doesn’t, which doesn’t surprise you with what you know about her. You’re sure little surprises her.

“Yep. See you later, Y/N.”

“Yes. Thank you, Natasha.” You stand awkwardly in front of Bucky, wondering why you get nervous every time he looks at you - not a bad nervous, but a strong tingle in your belly and chest that seemed to put you off-center.

“Ready?” You ask, plastering on a big smile.

“Come on,” He gestures with a tilt of his head, waiting for you to join him. You close the few feet and he begins down the hall.

“Where are we going?”

“The woods.” He pauses when he reaches the patio, “Will the woods have too much noise?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” You step off the patio and onto the grass. “You coming?” Bucky rewards you with a smile, a wide one that showed off his teeth with little lines crinkling by the corners of his storm blue eyes.

Once you reach the tree line, Bucky takes the lead, leading you to a little clearing and you smile when you see more sunflowers growing on the other side of the space. There is a couple of wrought iron chairs with plush black cushions and a little upside-down wooden milk crate sitting beside one of them. The chairs are set to the side in the shade and you take a moment to appreciate the serenity.

“It’s beautiful, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Bucky,” He corrects, shuffling from one foot to the other before gesturing you forward. Settling down in the chair beside the milk crate you set your laptop flat on your thighs, sitting the recorder on top of it.

“So, just to go over how it’ll work - I’ll ask you questions, you answer however you like. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. If you don’t like something I’ve asked, please don’t hesitate to let me know you don’t like it. Is there anything you don’t want to talk about, Bucky?”

“You can ask me whatever you like.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way.”

“Every other news agency, pretty much, has already written the ugliest and vile lies and truths about who I was, about what I’ve done...From what I read in your articles, from what I’ve seen from the others you’ve already talked to, I know you won’t do that. Ask me whatever you like.” After taking a deep breath, you give a reassuring smile and click the recorder on.

“Are you an animal lover?”

“Yeah. Steve and me keep trying to convince Tony to get a dog.”

“He won’t let you?”

“He just asked who was gonna take care of it when we’re on a mission for weeks on end, ya know? He had a point.”

“But you aren’t all on a mission at the same time, right? Someone here could take care of it.”

“Good counterpoint. We told him that too. He said he’d think about it. Still thinking apparently. Maybe just got lost in all those thoughts he has.” You hold out the recorder, wiggling it until he held out his flesh hand. You place it gently in his outstretched hand, reaching into your pocket for your little notebook and pen. You can feel his gaze as you scribble ‘Bucky/Steve need a dog. Mention to Stark. Repeatedly if necessary.’ A chuckle escapes his lips as he had leaned forward to see what you wrote, leaning back in the chair like before.

“Favorite guilty pleasure?” You set the notebook and pen on the milk crate as you smile brightly.

“Junk food. The serum speeds up metabolism, so we can’t get drunk unless we have some of that Asgardian stuff, so I can lay on the couch and eat all I want and then a couple of hours later do it all over again.”

“And that also bothers Sam, I venture to guess?”

“Yeah,” He’s smiling wide again, looking at the grass at his feet. “Mostly cause it’s his.”

“You steal his junk food?”

“He hides it bad!” Bucky defends with a laugh.

“Favorite weather?”

“Spring or Fall. I don’t care too much for the extra cold days we get in the winter here, but I like the familiarity of Brooklyn and New York, even if they aren’t my Brooklyn or New York. What about you?”

“I got heatstroke when I was in high school, so I’m wary of being in the sun for too long now. Otherwise, I’m good with just about anything. But I gotta admit I don’t care for the extra cold days either. And the ice! I hate ice.”

“Taken a fall, I gather?”

“Oh yeah. Definitely wasn’t pretty. Bruise all up my thigh and butt from how hard I fell and slipped a foot or so down the patch of ice. Limped back through the snow with my butt soaking wet and a nice wind blowing to add to the chill.” He’s trying hard not to laugh, flesh hand pressed hard against his knee while those little crinkles showed themselves again. “Go ahead and laugh. I’m tougher than I look.”

“Oh, I believe it.” Bucky laughs out finally, nodding in agreement while you admire the carefree laughter he’s engaging in.

“How do you like your coffee?”

“I usually just get it black after our morning runs...the menus just look so complicated now.”

“They really aren’t, you just gotta know your baseline.”

“Like?”

“Well, like lattes, iced coffee and most specialty drinks all start the same way - espresso. Espresso, plus whatever milk you want then you just add the flavorings you like. Experiment until you refine what you like and voila! Done.”

“And all that isn’t complicated?” Doubt is heavy in his voice, a smile still plastered on his too-handsome face.

“I’ve had years to perfect this narrowing down strategy, good sir. Coffee became a big thing right before I got into high school, so that’s the system I’ve been working with. When I was a barista in college, we would experiment with flavorings and shots and milk types, so that helped too. Do you have a sweet tooth?”

“Yes,” It’s almost a groan like you’d just brought out a decadent looking dessert.

“Does Stark have an espresso machine here?”

“Yeah. Big shiny silver thing on a counter next to Clint’s giant ass coffee cup.”

“Okay, when we get done here, I’ll make you what I like and we’ll see how you like that.” That seems to get his attention, his large frame leaning forward, the silver recorder looking small balanced in his palm.

“How do you like your coffee?”

“Humm, well if I want it hot, then I can go a couple of ways - white chocolate mocha with a pump of milk chocolate and a pump of caramel or I just get a mocha with hazelnut, vanilla, and caramel. Iced? It depends on the mood I’m in. Sometimes I just order tea. Sometimes I don’t want coffee, so I do a frappuccino or something like that with flavoring but no coffee. Depends on the day.”

“All of that sounded like a cavity.”

“Makes you want it all the more, huh?” You tease as he lets out a little groan.

“Yeah, it does.” You smirk, self-satisfaction written all over your face at his admission.

“Do you have a hobby?” He rubs his vibranium knuckles along his very sharp jawline before giving a little sigh.

“No. My therapist says I should get one but I haven’t found one I like yet.”

“Does it bother you when people call you the Winter Soldier?” It’s like he senses the change in questioning before you even open your mouth, his eyes falling back to the yellowing grass of the clearing.

“Sometimes. I know I was him. I know I was a tool. But now I know I’ll always be Bucky first, so it doesn’t bother me as much. The Winter Soldier is a part of me - a part resigned to the darkest shadows of my mind, locked away where he won’t see the light of day again - but he’s always there. I know they made me do all those things. And I remember doing them…” Your hand falls naturally over his, giving the metal hand a little squeeze and a soft smile. His eyes go from your face to where your hand rests on his vibranium one, a perplexed look before his shoulders drop a little and relax at the gesture.

“Anyone who knows what they did, can’t honestly blame you for what they made you do. And I’m sorry some people are uninformed assholes.” You take back your hand as he thanks you softly. “Do you think the Raft could hold him?”

“Maybe. Ross designed it to hold the Hulk but I’m sure given enough time he could.”

“This whole facility is full of geniuses,” You laugh out as he shakes his head.

“I’m not a genius.”

“Didn’t the Soldier shoot through a wall, several walls, to get to Nick Fury? That takes some serious calculations to be able to do that.”

“I was a sniper before…”

“Snipers have a clear line of sight. He didn’t have that. Now, that may have been him, but I don’t think so. You can’t brainwash someone over and over and over again and have them retain difficult mathematics in order to shoot through things with no clear sightlines. You’re a whole lot smarter than you give yourself credit for.” A pink creeps onto his cheeks before he looks across the clearing. After a few seconds, his intense blue gaze returns to you, nodding his head ever so slightly to the right. You follow where he’d tilted towards, taking in the sight of two big bucks easing into the clearing. You’re cursing the fact you’ve left your camera...wait, where did you leave it?

“There is a camera under the milk crate,” His voice is so soft you barely catch it, slowly nodding before sitting your laptop on the ground against your leg and drop the notebook and pen beside it, leaning over to lift the milk crate extra slowly. Withdrawing the bag, you ease the zipper open and withdraw a very expensive looking camera. You click it on and raise it, snapping a few shots of the deer eating before they both look up at the pair of you. Seemingly unafraid they come a little closer, Bucky rises, handing the recorder back to you before he takes slow and measured steps towards them. The bucks aren’t disturbed by him and allow him to come close, his flesh hand slipping into his pocket before offering whatever it was to the male with the darker coat, repeating the same thing with the lighter coat buck. You snap the pictures greedily, nearly laughing as you realize there are actually three bucks in the clearing. He must have heard you soft breathy laugh since he turns towards you and cocks an eyebrow. You point to the deer, then him and hold up three fingers.

The eye crinkles return as he shakes his head with a grin. The deer both decide he doesn’t have anything more to give and return to their grazing on the edge of the clearing, and you snap a picture of Bucky walking towards you and when he realizes it, he scowls at you which just makes you click the button yet again with a big grin on your face.

“What was in your pocket?”

“Sugar cubes.”

“Ahh, buttering them up for a while I see.”

“You know it, doll.”

“Wanna continue, Mr. Disney Princess?”

“I’m not singing if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Damn,” You sigh out the curse before pursing your lips. “Okay, fine. I guess we go back to questions.” Waiting for him to settle back in his seat, you carefully zip the camera back up and are about to tuck it back in under the milk crate when he speaks.

“I’ll take that.” You’re about to hand it over when you pull it back.

“Promise you won’t delete the pictures I took of you.” His storm blue eyes stare at you intently, looking for something before he gives a little huff.

“Fine.”

“Any of the pictures of you, Mr. Barnes.”

Another huff. “Fine.” Handing over the camera bag, you hold the recorder aloft as you try to remember the line of questioning you had planned for Bucky.

“Do you miss the 40s? Did you want a normal life after the war was over?”

Bucky shrugs, sitting the camera bag beside his leg. “I miss my family. I missed getting to come home to them. I...I don’t know what would’ve happened when I came home from the war. I know I was different from it - even before Zola’s experiments. I wasn’t the guy who had a different girl on my arm every week anymore...and honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be that anymore either. I was different. Steve was different. The world was gonna be different when it all ended. I don’t know what would have happened...I guess I would have dated, found a woman I liked and had a kid or two...but I don’t know, maybe I would’ve decided to go off to be alone for a long while after the war.”

“Is Wakanda as beautiful as they say?”

“Even more. Maybe I’m just partial ‘cause I got left alone for big swaths of time, so I could sit by a little lake and just watch. Sunrise is beautiful, but the sunset...wow.”

“If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go - and you can’t say Wakanda.”

Bucky chuckles as you blurt out the Wakanda bit before running his flesh hand through his hair. “I guess I’d like to go to some little island with all the amenities but no one else.”

“No one? Not even Steve? What about Sam? How will you get your junk food if not from Sam?”

“Definitely not Sam, but I’ll be sure to make a list of the food I want beforehand. Maybe Steve, but he’ll have to sit downwind since he’ll have to be smothered with sunblock. I can think of a few people I might let on my private island, but they gotta bring something to offer me.”

“Like payment?” A good-natured smile is on your lips as you shake your head.

“Yes. Silence and beautiful scenery come at a cost.”

“And what exactly would one need to bring you to gain access to this island paradise?”

“What would you like to bring me?” There’s a glint in his eyes, something flirting on his lips as he waits for your reaction.

“Coffee. And you’d have to take it however I decided to make it that day.”

“Deal. You’ll be allowed on my island,” He gives a nod as he grants his permission, making you press a hand to your chest with a mildly shocked expression which doesn’t last long as you giggle.

“Soooo kind of you!”

“You’re welcome.”

“If Stark does a superhero calendar, which month do you want and what are you wearing for it?”

“Why would he do a calendar? Wear for it?” You withdraw your phone from your pocket and do the same thing you’d done for Steve; You show him the Australian firefighter calendar with each one holding or posing with baby animals for reference. “Oh.” Pink suddenly graces his cheeks and his throat as you smile at him, enjoying his obvious flustered state.

“As another example: Sam’s wearing the tightest red shirt he owns and jeans but could be ‘persuaded’ to dress in a nice suit and tie. He chose August. Steve chose -”

“Steve?” Bucky snorts out his best friend’s name. “Okay. Lemme hear it.”

“Steve chose May with a nice suit and tie with flowers in the pocket instead of a pocket square. But I convinced him to change it to him in just a tee-shirt and jeans, sitting sideways and painting a field of flowers in front of him. He liked that better.” Bucky’s shaking of his shaggy brown hair makes you think it wasn’t the oddest thing he’d heard about his friend.

“Always an artist, I guess.” Bucky bites his bottom lip, gazing off to where the deer had been. “October.” He says after a long pause. “What would you suggest I wear?”

You know it’s an innocent question, but your heart kicks up a little when he asks it. Especially after all the banter you’ve been through with him.

“What would you be comfortable in?”

“A hoodie and jeans probably.”

“I’d have you go out of your comfort zone then...maybe a gray velvet blazer with black jeans and a black shirt...maybe pull your hair back like when you were in the gym yesterday morning, maybe a blue silver shirt to bring out your eyes...no, the black. It’s October. Maybe tuck a Halloween handkerchief into your jacket pocket.” His gaze is intense and it’s your turn to look away. “Just a thought.”

“I like it. If you were to do the calendar thing, what month would you choose and what would you be wearing?”

“Oh, um...Probably October. I love the fall. I think I’d either want to wear a black skater skirt with black striped stockings and a mauve shirt with a cute Halloween saying on it while I’m surrounded by leaves and pumpkins or I’d dress like Velma from Scooby-Doo.”

“Scooby-Doo is the one with the great dane who talks, right? Velma is the one in the purple?”

“No! Velma is the one in the orange and burgundy with the glasses! Educate yourself, Bucky!” He holds his hands up at your hostile tone.

“Sorry. Sorry!”

“Now, back to the hard questions...what is some 40s slang you’d like to see come back into use?” He shakes his head again, flashing those pearly white teeth as those too cute crinkles show themselves again.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx::

You hadn’t realized you had spent so much time with Bucky...not until Clint had come to get the both of you for lunch.

Bucky had mumbled an apology to which you brush off.

“I enjoyed it! And it helps me to build the picture I wanna paint for you guys. No biggie at all! I’m pretty glad you felt comfortable enough with me to talk that long.” He had walked beside you the whole way back, listening to you rattle off about work and how you wanted to set up the release of each interview with patience and a very kind smile that showed in those handsome blue eyes.

After lunch, you were handed over to the Wakandans who take you to a formal room that looked like it was only used for taking pictures with expensive friends and foreign dignitaries.

Holy shit. Down the fancy rabbit hole again...

T’Challa begins the interview with the opening of Wakanda to the world.

“Wakandan technology is far above the rest of the world,” He nods seriously at your beginning statement. “And you’ve made examples of people who have tried to steal your vibranium in the past - does this mean that you won’t be integrating even the most basics of Wakandan tech to the outside world? Or do you think we’re still too greedy to be trusted with that?”

“It can be seen that way. Wakanda has thrived because even though our tribes are different, we work together. Vibranium is ours. We, however, would help anyone who requested it. Shuri and the technology department have already helped a great deal with Nakia acting as an ambassador. We will continue to do so.”

“The suit you currently wear as the Black Panther absorbs energy, is that right?”

“Yes.”

“So could you absorb Thor’s lightning and redirect it? And the same with Carol Danver’s abilities?”

“Yes, theoretically.”

“So the shield that Cap has, could also - in theory, do the same?”

“No,” Shuri interrupts. “Because his shield was not made the same way as the Black Panther suit, thus could not hold the energy long enough to redistribute it in any way.”

“Howard didn’t have your imagination. Or the abilities Wakandans have to spin it into fabric. Does it take a long time?”

“No, we have refined the technique for so long it is very easy.” T’Challa takes back over, Shuri giving a little huff at her brother.

“I’ve heard that Wakandan sunsets are the most beautiful in the world. Mr. Barnes seems to agree. You three would be biased, but I’m going to ask anyway. Is it the most beautiful sunset in the world?”

“Yes,” All three say at the same time, each one has this shining look in their eyes, seeing it in their minds like it’s happening right before them.

“The way you all said it - the way you all look right now, it must be truly magical.” You wiggle a little in the chair as all three exchange glances, pen trailing down the notebook to see your next question.

“Sergeant Barnes was taken to Wakanda after the Sokovia Accords bullshit,” T’Challa’s eyebrow raises but he says nothing as you continue. “Why did you allow this? If anyone learned you were harboring the most wanted fugitive in the world at the time, there could have been serious repercussions for you all.”

“What could they do to a poor, third-world country that most people didn’t know even existed?” Okoye cross-questioned, her eyes so sharp you know why she was chosen to be a leader. She’s got a scary strength in her.

“Excellent observation. No one would look there. Is that why you let Steve in also?”

“I think by then we figured, we have one broken white boy, why not add another?” Shuri pipes up with a big smug grin. “But Steve didn’t get half the treatment that Bucky did. Bucky had to have family dinners with us. My mother insisted that if he was to remain safe once he got better, he would need some help.”

“What kind of help?”

“We, for all purposes, adopted him into the royal family,” T’Challa confirms and honestly, if you had a drink, you’re about 90% sure you would have spewed it all over your notebook and yourself.

“I’m sorry, wh-what??”

“He was given titles so that he has all the same immunities that we share as royalty and as the Dora Milaje receives as bodyguards to the royal family. That way General Ross could not have him arrested for any of his past crimes nor any new ones he could dream up to put on the White Wolf.” T’Challa smiles at you. “I guess he did not tell you that.”

“No. I honestly didn’t have a clue about that.”

“He probably wanted it that way. He said they are just words on his passport and papers. Bucky is very thankful for them and for all he has received, yet he has asked me to remove them when we feel that it’s safer to do so...He thinks he is undeserving. He has had to die many times for his country, for the world, so I feel the least I can do is give him those words.” Okoye nods at her king’s words as you try to fight back the watering your eyes seem to want to do.

“May I ask why do you call him that?”

“The children who lived nearby began calling him that - said his hair was shaggy like a wolf, eyes sharp like a wolf. Thus that was what they called him.” Okoye answers as Shuri taps at her phone while nodding absentmindedly along with Okoye’s words.

“So, I want to ask, should I break all these women’s hearts who are going to read this by telling them you’re off the market, T’Challa?” He chuckles, eyes downcast but mirth evident in them as he rubs a hand over his beard.

“I am. Nakia will be my queen one day.”

“Gonna woo her like a regular guy? Breakfast in bed? Flowers? Or do you have like Wakandan rituals you have to do before you can get engaged? Similar to the British? Like she’ll need to meet the Queen and get her approval and adhere to the royal duties and ceremonies...like that? Or does she already know about that since her father is the head of another tribe in Wakanda? Does she want to deal with Shuri all the time?”

“Oooh - fighting words!” Shuri grins out at you before sticking out her tongue, which you return with childish glee.

“He freezes half the time he sees her.”

“Aww, really Okoye? That’s adorable T’Challa! You must really adore her for your brain to sort of blank like that. I think that’s wonderful. Everybody deserves someone to sort of freeze up and just stare at them like they’re that important.”

“Thank you. I wish that for you as well, Y/N.” He must take in your startled expression since his smile kicks up a few notches before his phone rings. “Excuse me.”

“Of course, your highness.” T’Challa scowls at you before leaving to answer the call.

“I need to go,” Shuri whispers, eyes darting at the door her brother just exited through.

You can see the cogs turning in her mind. You honestly hope it doesn’t involve more deer. “Book it!” You whisper back, watching her dart out the door. You turn to Okoye. “So, how do those bead things work?”

Okoye begins going over the basics when Shuri walks back in, dragging her feet before looking at you with the biggest grin while T’Challa comes in right after her with a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Mother is not happy you managed to prank M’Baku from this distance.”

“She should be concerned, our future is in both of your hands,” Okoye sniffs before shooting you a smile, the smile disappearing into what you’ve been referring to in your head as her “business face”.

Shuri retakes her seat, before ignoring both of the adults and tapping on her bracelet. “You asked how these works?” An enthusiastic nod is all it takes for her to show you how their bracelets work before she overtakes the interview, showing you just as many memes as Peter did, and even leading the discussion on the school system differences between Wakanda and everywhere else. She talks about her lab, T’Challa putting on a show of yawning as she goes on, and you ask her about how she developed the Black Panther suit to store, and then use, the energy wielded against them.

“What about potentially dating? Would they need to be as smart as you? Would they need to be Wakandan?”

“If I had to wait for someone as smart as me, I would die of old age. That’s not important to me right now, nor, I think, anytime in the immediate future. T’Challa is King and when he gets married, he can make all the heirs and I can be in my lab showing them all the embarrassing photos and videos I have of him.” T’Challa and Okoye both look on with matching expressions of relief/humor. And honestly, you can’t blame them. If she’s pranking someone from halfway across the world is any indication, they all have every right to be worried.

Okoye has said little the whole interview, but each word is as measured and weighed as the words you submit for the blog. She knows her value and you have to sort of stare in awe of her for that. A fearsome general who would die to protect her king, her country and the world. She explains her tattoos, briefly, and what she doesn’t add - Shuri is more than happy to fill in while T’Challa corrects her.

“And that’s how her husband got imprisoned…” Shuri adds as if this is the least important bit about the closed-off Okoye.

“You’re married?”

“My husband asked me to choose between him and Wakanda. It was not a difficult choice.”

The epitome of He Wasn’t Man Enough for Me.

“You went straight up Olenna Tyrell on him, didn’t you?”

“If a man ever asks you a similar question, think of myself and Olenna.”

“That’s life advice if I’ve ever heard it, Okoye.” You agree immediately with the general. “We should have t-shirts made!”

Shuri is typing furiously on her phone. “They’ll be ready in two hours.” Your mouth is open. Wide.

Again.

The power of a genius teenager with seemingly unlimited funds…

“You must be careful what you say to her…” T’Challa voices as he rises from his chair. “And for the record, I would not do Tony’s fake calendar.”

“He would. He would like to be February.”

“Shuri!”

“It makes it all the more real, you know - moments like this… What do you think he’ll wear?”

“Probably traditional Wakandan clothes. But if you had Nakia on your side, you could get him to wear just about anything…” Okoye shares a devious smile with you as she stands from her seat, brushing an invisible (to you) piece of lint from her skirt.

“Have a good rest of your evening. We will see you at dinner, Miss Y/N,” T’Challa gives you a brief hug, his spicy scent reassuring in a way you didn’t understand and didn’t care to think too much about since it was comforting. Okoye giving a bright smile before trailing after her king, heeled boots clicking from the room with authority.

It’s the most dynamic interview so far since there are three strong people who all love their country with very strong ideals.

“You and the White Wolf seem to be getting along better…” She has a sly smile painted on her lips, making you give her a little side-eye as you finish gathering your things, closing the door firmly behind you before heading with her down the hallway back to the hub of the house.

“I would assume so. Bucky is a lot…,” You search for the right word. “Softer than he lets on.”

“Oooh, its Bucky now, is it?” She gasps dramatically, a smile stretched like a Cheshire cat.

“Princess, I have something to tell you -” You turn toward her with the most serious expression you have mustered since you set foot in the compound. “I don’t think you are ready to do spy or fieldwork. Your subtlety needs some work. Like, a lot of work.” Okoye snorts ahead of you, standing by the entryway, making your own smile widen as Shuri scowls at you.

“Got time for me tonight?” Tony calls out from farther down the hall headed towards the kitchen.

“Sure do!”

“Perfect! Right after dinner, then?”

“Sounds good to me,” You shout back, watching him give a thumbs up before disappearing back down the hall.

“So, what did you and Bucky talk about? Did he tell you about his goats?”

“He did. Also mentioned a nosy princess who helped him too.” You walk past where they stop in the living room, headed to the patio where Sam, Steve, and Peter are all standing, T'Challa heading towards the men as they watch Shuri stick her tongue out at you as you go to your room to start downloading the interviews and adding to your notes.

“Just a few days and she already has your number, sister.” T’Challa chortles, Sam’s laughter echoing alongside.

“Shut up, brother.”

It’s the last thing you hear as you hurry to your room with a big smile stretched on your face.

::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxx:::xxxxxxxxxxx::

“Interviewing Tony Stark, also known as Iron Man and the face of Stark Industries. Now, Tony, would you like to start with the fluff questions or get straight down to it?”

“Let’s save the fluff for the end, huh?” You swallow hard at his words, a tight smile dancing across his lips before disappearing. Settling a bit more into the dark brown leather chair of his office, you nod before glancing down at your list of questions.

“What was your ultimate reason behind pushing for the Accords?”

“I know we needed to be checked...held accountable if things went bad. I felt we could always go in and amend it later, but I saw what Ultron did, first hand and without Fury and SHIELD...who was gonna be able to hold us accountable?”

“But what led to the Accords was Sokovia, but the catalyst was Zemo posing as Bucky for the bombing, correct?”

“Essentially, yes. But even SHIELD answered to a higher authority.”

“And look what happened to SHIELD,” You counter, eyes just as sharp as Tony’s in the well-lit office. He sighs and you can see him working out where this is going, what question is next. “I don’t think that people who hide their faces should be trusted with the security of the world’s fate. But I don’t think you were wrong when you said you see a shield of iron protecting the world, but I think you need to see that the Avengers, the Guardians of the Galaxy...these are that suit of armor you wanted. People who have power but have never had to work for it -- sacrifice for it -- see others die because of it -- they honestly have no right to tell you if you’re in the wrong. You guys are the only ones who can.” Tony drags his fingers along his desktop before reaching for his amber drink. “I’ve seen your building acquirement. I know you spearhead the cleanups. I know you have bought buildings that have been damaged by not just the Avengers, but by HYDRA, the mafia, insurgents in the Middle East, and Yakuza. I’ve read other interviews with you - before and after your kidnapping. What happened to you in that cave and what happened to you when you pushed that nuke through that hole in the sky, they changed you, Tony. For the better, I believe.”

“You sound so...convinced.”

“And you aren’t? I’m as convinced you are a truly wonderful person, superhero, husband and father as you are convinced that Spider-Man is going to be the very best version of the Avengers you know he can be.”

“That’s a lot,” You can hear the emotion in Tony’s voice and you give him a watery smile in return.

“Do you think people should know about the existence of the Raft?”

“Look, that-it-it all boils down to secrecy. It boils down to some Area 51-esque shit. Should the nice lady working the night shift at the diner know? What would it change for her? Not a lot. It would just give people another reason to argue - give politicians another crusade to go after that will never have to produce actual fucking results and keeps everyone from going after the real problems we’re facing.” The frown he’s sporting makes you think you should have skipped that question, but the quickness with which he’s answering makes you think he isn’t exactly the Raft’s biggest fan either. “So, I’ll have to simply say that: Publicly, I agree. Personally, I think it’s chickenshit. But right now, the chickenshit is needed. Especially after the Snap, the Blip, whatever the fuck they call it...normalcy is what everyone is craving and it’s what they should have right now.”

“What sort of jelly do you use on yours and Morgan’s pb and js?”

“Strawberry preserves usually.” The tenseness seems to seep away a little, but you see you need to coax his mind to slow down a little more.

“Bowling or mini-golf?”

“Mini-golf.”

“Bubble bath or shower?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a bubble bath to relax. Showers are for getting clean.”

“So what do you do to relax?”

“Not a whole damn lot to be honest. I-I can’t seem to shut it off most days.” His fingers dance around the rim of his almost empty tumbler. “Mostly I push things aside to deal with them later so I can be in the moment as much as possible with Morgan and Pepper.”

“Craziest thing she’d done so far?”

“Pep and I went out for a date night. Left her at the Tower with Steve, Natasha, Sam, Clint, Bucky, and Peter. Come home and a) she’s still awake and b) she’s hanging from the damn ceiling with Peter while Bucky shoots Nerf darts at the both of them while Steve cleans up all the scattered toys and was shouting that she needs to get to bed not be more riled up when we get home.” The softest smile is dancing on his lips, his eyes full of love and you know it’s not just for Morgan. “Morgan was squealing with joy, so I couldn’t really get angry. Especially when I saw Peter had layered his web fluid so if they fell or slipped, there was webbing about every two feet as a precaution. Plus they had the mats from the gym on the living room floor and Clint was sitting on the countertop, using those eagle-eyed peepers.”

“Craziest thing before that?”

“Last Christmas when Steve took her sledding down one of the hills in the compound, which turned into sled racing when Rocket and Thor got involved. Pep didn’t care for that. We built some bumps to be like a brake system the next morning. She still didn’t like it too much.”

You learn Morgan also likes it when Thor makes her hair stand on end and Groot gives her flowers.

“She’s with Pep’s mom and dad in California for a couple of weeks since they just got back from a cruise and haven’t seen her in a while. I miss her. Facetiming every day just doesn’t cut it.”

“Starting to get a little itchy - ready for her to get home. I get that. I adore my cousin’s children. Been around them nearly every day of their lives the first year. Then she moved to Idaho for a job and I didn’t get to see them again until they were almost two. She visits more often now, I’ve seen them every two weeks for the last four months. It’s hectic - but I love it when there are toys, crayons, and blankets scattered everywhere in my living room. When they leave, man, I swear I sleep for a whole day then just sort of sit around looking at the cleanliness with a little bit of disdain.”

“Luckily I have you lot to make a mess, so it doesn’t seem so bad right now.”

“Well,” you laugh, “That’s certainly one way to look at it. Okay, ready for more of the fluff?”

“Bring it.”

“How do you handle a bad hair day?”

“I’ve never had one in my life. Next question.”

“Okay, if you were to do a superhero calendar, which month would you be and what would you be wearing for it?” Tony shakes a finger at you, grinning.

“See, Rhodey told me about this question, so I’ve had some time to think about it...I’d say I would like to be June or July, what did Cap choose?”

“May.”

“July then. AC/DC shirt with a jacket and jeans, holding on of the older Iron Man masks under one arm. Fireworks in the background, maybe holding the shield. Really sell it, ya know.”

“If it was just you, no showing off...just something nice for Pepper.”

“September. It’s when we got married. What about you?”

“October.”

“Costume or regular clothes?”

“Depends on the photographer and how I’m feeling, I guess. Ideally, both. The favorite as the big picture and the other in the bottom corner or something.”

“You’ve had time to figure out your answer too, huh?”

“Sixteen interviews.”

“Sixteen? That doesn’t seem right.”

“Sam, Clint, Wanda, Bruce, Hope, Scott, Steve, Vision, Peter, and Rhodey. Natasha, Bucky, Shuri, T’Challa, Okoye, and you. Sixteen.”

“In four days. Like speed dating for a writer.”

“That’s what I told Sam!”

Tony walks you back to your room, discussing his favorite snacks, telling you what Monte Carlo is actually like before suggesting you go there on vacation with the dirtiest smirk you have ever witnessed first-hand. He then offers to let you try out a suit when Steve goes for his run tomorrow morning, which you feel a flutter of hope that you actually do get to do something like that.

He gives you a tender pat on your forearm when he says goodnight, leaving while whistling what you’re sure is ‘I’ll Be Seeing You’ by Billie Holiday.

You stay up for a few hours over what you should, furiously typing up your interview with Tony when Amelina finally texts you the gif of Kermit on the typewriter with the words “GO TO SLEEP!” immediately under it. You sigh, rubbing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose, but you do as she bids, texting her first that she needs to get her ass to bed too. You finish it up with “Stalker” with the eyeball emoji. Shuffling into your pajamas and letting the plush bedding swallow and comfort you, mind still thinking of all the things you need to add to the interview piece.

And that’s how you drift off, thinking of a shield of Iron Man armor drifting around the Earth.

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Someone is in your room far too early for your liking, poking you awake then ordering you into the bathroom. You sleepily realize it’s Tony before stumbling to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and managing to hop/change into a pair of black leggings with constellations all over and a dark gray t-shirt before returning to the bedroom.

“Don’t give me the glare pout. I brought coffee.” Tony has socks and shoes laid out for you and when you raise an eyebrow at him, he just shrugs then taps his wrist where a watch would be. Slipping into the shoes and socks as quickly as possible, he hands you a tall ceramic mug, bidding you to follow him quickly and quietly down the hallway towards his workshop.

When you get in, you see one of the earlier suits standing in the middle of the room and the butterflies in your stomach turn to little stones that sink and pile up when realizing what you’re about to do. The sweet coffee doesn’t help now that reality settles in. Are you really gonna do this?!

“Scared?” You can’t even manage words right now, so you just nod. “Good. Healthy. Smart, even.” He touches it, the suit open beneath his fingertips like a mechanical flower. “Come on,” He eggs. “FRIDAY and I are here to keep you safe.” You nod again, nerves or not eating breakfast - you aren’t sure which it is - is making you feel the first tendrils of nausea. “You don’t have to.” Tony offers the out, studying you carefully.

“No, I want to.” He helps you into the suit and just as it closes you hear him ask if you’re claustrophobic.

“Maybe you should have led with that Tony!” Thankfully, though, you aren’t - well not with this you don’t seem to be. It is close around your body, but it’s not a crushing, tight sort of feeling you would associate with claustrophobia.

“Can you hear me?”

“Yes. Did you just hear me yell at you?”

“Yes, but I ignored it.” You can see him move to stand directly before you. “Perfect. Wanna try walking first. Careful steps first so you don’t damage my floors.”

“If I eat shit in this suit?”

“Just gently push yourself up and get up like normal.” You do pretty well and Tony is smiling, watching like a proud parent. “Okay, let’s try hovering.”

“Hovering?!”

“Yeah. FRIDAY give her a little lift.”

“Yes, Boss.” Sounds in your ears softly before you hear a soft hum and feel the suit lift you from the ground.

“Holy shit,” You murmur, leaning forward and then backward to test the feeling of floating.

And just about that time when Steve comes in with Bucky, Sam, and Rhodey all in tow.

“Tony, do you know where -” He pauses, seeing Tony on the ground and the suit hovering a handful of feet off the ground. “Tell me she isn’t in there.”

“Okay. She isn’t in there.”

“Tony!”

“Steve!”

“FRIDAY?”

“Yes, Miss?”

“Do they always argue like an old married couple?”

“Yes, Miss, they do.”

“Get her out of that thing!”

“She’s hovering off the ground Steve! Not being sent out to tackle an arms dealer!”

“Can you set me down, FRIDAY? I can see the vein in Cap’s forehead throbbing.” The boosters die down, FRIDAY setting you down gently before the helmet flips up. “Let me out please, FRIDAY.” The rest of the suit opens and Tony offers an outstretched hand with his lips pressed in a thin line.

“Listen, I don’t want to be the person to give Captain America an aneurysm, so we’re all going to the kitchen to have breakfast.” You start past Tony and when you get to Steve you reach out, patting his chest twice. “And pull the stick out a little, Cap.” Bucky snorts before following, Sam shaking his head with a big smile before following.

“You know, every day I like her more.” Rhodey chuckles out. “Come on you two, you heard the lady. Breakfast. Bucky’s probably volunteering to cook as we speak.” Both Avengers give each other a look before mumbling out half-assed apologies and all three men then headed for the kitchen and the sound of multiple peels of laughter.

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Bucky and Wanda make omelets as big as the freaking plates while Sam makes bacon and sausage, all of it is delicious - not to mention highly entertaining as Scott did a few magic tricks, making Dr. Strange arch an eyebrow when he pulled cards from his mouth. Dr. Strange and Wong lead you to the zen garden afterwards, Wong leading in a small meditation set before you begin the interview.

Wong is nearly as closed off as Okoye, giving you just shy of not much, so you chalk it up to the fact that secrets seem to go hand-in-hand with mysticism. He does tell you about Tibet and how Stephen got him to listen to Beyonce. He is also a devotee of Adele and Boston.

“Like to keep that one name thing alive, huh, Wong?” He just chortles, taking a sip of his strawberry hibiscus tea.

Dr. Strange goes over his life before the accident and about not returning to medicine.

“I thought that was important, being the asshole surgeon who was the best at everything, the smartest at everything. The accident took everything from me and I was willing to do whatever to get that back. To return to being me. The Ancient One showed me that there was so much more than me to see.”

Twenty minutes later and you and Wong are fighting back laughter. “He thought Dr. Strange was my ‘made-up name’ and not my actual given name.”

“To be fair, the doctor part was an add on. And he’s sort of fair in assuming that’s a made-up name...I mean he’s already met Captain America, Iron Man, War Machine, Falcon, Black Widow, Hawkeye, Black Panther, Scarlet Witch, and Ant-Man. Dr. Strange isn’t that much of a leap after that.” But honestly, you can see Peter doing that, and that’s why you’re still fighting back the giggles.

After a couple of hours with the magic-wielding pair, you have FRIDAY lead you to Pepper. She’s in her office, a white-walled space with homey pictures scattered on them while several vases of flowers adorn the top of a small antique-looking half-table painted in a dark blue. She’s in a soft pink button-up blouse with a pair of charcoal lounge pants, her hair up in a messy ponytail as she looks up from her laptop.

Pepper is the most comfortable with the questions by far, both serious and fluff, and navigates them both with wonderful tact and subtle humor.

She talks about Stark Industries, about the Avengers, about her suit - Rescue. But you enjoy it most when she talks about Tony and Morgan. Her whole demeanor changes; her body seems to relax, her voice softens and her bright eyes get all the brighter.

“It seems like that’s the only time Tony is really, truly happy. And after I got him back...living our lives, being with each other and having a family - the simpler life...that’s all that mattered. I know Tony and I know he has a hard time shutting his brain off, but those five years while everyone else was struggling,” Pepper sighs, looking guilty. “I was having a life I dreamed about. It wasn’t complete - we had so many taken from us but we had each other. He was alive. That’s all I could have asked for. And then Morgan came along and I thought, maybe this won’t be so bad. Maybe Tony won’t feel so guilty anymore. Maybe he’ll get some rest,” She smiles ruefully. “When people tell you about kids, they say you won’t be getting much sleep. But I was hoping she’d wear him out enough to sleep.”

She nearly brings you to tears when she talks about the fight with Thanos - how she almost lost Tony again - before she clutched onto his shoulder, Rhodey’s armored hand clinging to her’s, Clint’s hand gripping onto Rhodey’s shoulder and Carol holding onto his. Steve is on Tony’s other shoulder with Thor’s hand heavy on Steve’s shoulder while Sam and Bucky are holding onto each other’s hands while Peter grips Thor’s free shoulder hard and Natasha squeezes Peter’s hand reassuringly. All of the Avengers forming around Tony in the gauntlet, shouldering the sheer force of the stones so they all walk away together this time.

“And it worked,” Pepper’s voice breaks a little, the emotion, even three years later is high. “I got to keep Tony, Morgan got to keep her dad...the world got to keep it’s Iron Man. Natasha was brought back, everyone from the Snap was back - it was more than we could have hoped for. Tony, Bruce, and Shuri rebuilt Vision a little while after we rebuilt the compound. I - I just couldn’t have asked for more.”

The words seem to break you the second time around, sitting in your room, sobbing on the floor as the interview stops playing through your headphones.

You don’t hear the soft knock at the door. You don’t hear Bucky and Peter enter but you feel Peter pull you into a hug while Bucky strokes your hair, making you cry all the harder. When you’re all cried out, Peter lifts you from the plush carpet as Bucky saves and closes your laptop, setting it carefully on the desk as Peter tucks you into bed.

“It’s okay, Y/N. We’re all here. We’re all okay.” You’re nodding against your pillow, not knowing how he knew what you were sobbing over, these five days finally hitting you.

“I got her, kid. Go grab some water and some aspirin for her from the kitchen. Get an apple or banana too, she’ll need something on her stomach when she gets up.” Peter nods eagerly before squeezing your hand twice and disappearing from the room. “Want me to stay?” You manage a nod as he kicks off his boots and settles against the headboard. You turn to face him, reaching out for his metal hand, watching a sad smile flit across his face. “Get some rest, doll. I’m gonna stay right here.” He brings your hand to his lips, gentle and soft on the back of your hand. “Not going anywhere.”

An hour later, when Steve and Shuri are looking for Bucky, they find him sleeping slouched to one side but still mostly upright, with your hand wrapped firmly around his vibranium one.

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[PART 3]

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Tagging: @jewelofwinter @sgtjbuccky @jaamesbbarnes @thewhiterabbit42 @nobodys-baby-now @unleashthemidnight @stay-frosty-royal-unicorn @chelsea072498 @clockworkmorningglory @sakurablossom4 @marichromatic @blondecoffeecake @ourloveisforthelovely @whinywingedwinchester @feelmyroarrrr @rowdyhooliganism @everythingisoverrated @iloveyouthreethousand-o6 @puddinsqueen @emotionallysalty @maraudingmarauder

A/N: Found the pic online and edited it, props to Google and all rights/privileges/ownership goes to who took the photo and to Marvel who made up all these characters.

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