#peggy!reader

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Meant To Be (2)

Summary: Bucky Barnes x fe!Reader -> The day you disappeared from the world.

Disclaimer: This is part two/prequel to Meant To Be. Angst, Fluff, Bucky and Reader having feelings for each other, platonic!Howard Stark, mentions of death, swearing, mourning. Not Proof Read.

You pounded your fist on the front door only to be greeted by Mr Jarvis. 

“Ms Y/l/n.”

“Sorry, Mr Jarvis. I didn’t think you’d be awake yet. Is he here?”

“Still in bed, Ms.”

Jarvis just opened the door wider for you to step inside. “I was just about to take him his morning breakfast.”

“I’m afraid it will have to be on the go this morning, Mr Jarvis.”

“Yes, Ms.”

As you had done for as long as you could remember since meeting Howard Stark, you headed towards his bedroom in order to pull him from his bed. 

“Alright, Stark. Get up.”

Howard just groaned from under the covers. It sounded like he said “Five more minutes,”. 

“Nope. Not this morning. The Colonel has been on my ass all week about you and I’ll be damned,” you pulled the heavy covers from his body. “If I let my ass get reprimanded because of your ass. So, get up.”

Howard groaned again. 

“Mr Jarvis!” You called out behind you. “You wouldn’t happen to have an ice cold pitcher of water by any chance.”

“Why, yes. In fact, I’m just readying Mr Stark one now.”

That got Howard up out of bed. He practically sprang to the other side. “No. You’re not doing that again.”

“Get up when I tell you and I’ll never do it again.”

“I’m up. Are you happy now, sweet cheeks?”

You deadpanned him before throwing the clean washcloth that lay on his bedside table. Howard was known for washing his face first thing before he got out of bed. According to him, it kept him looking “young and attractive,”. 

“Get cleaned up. I’ll be outside.”

Giving Howard a ride into work, you were both greeted with almost all the SSR members hustling around the place. 

“Is something going on today that I’m not aware of?”

“It’s testing day,” Howard told you as he lay his briefcase over the chair in front of him. 

Meanwhile, you were hanging your coat up on the coat rack, taking the space in around you as Howard walked away. But you couldn’t stand comprehending the super soldier in the corner, blushing as Peggy accidentally touched his hand, or the boys everyone knew had lied on their enlistment form but still allowed it anyway, or the ego-centric scientist washing a hand over one of the girl’s asses, for too long. 

Within minutes of you entering the building, Bucky had found you. 

“How long do you think it’ll take today?”

You jumped a little, holding onto your coat on the rack a little tighter. “Jesus- Do you always have to sneak up on me?”

“It’s not my fault you don’t hear me.”

“That’s because you walk as if you’ve got a secret to hide.” Letting go of your coat, you picked your files up from the main desk, Bucky hot on your heels. 

“Not true. Well, maybe a little. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Well, looking at it now…” You and Bucky paused side by side. 

You found that, often when standing together, there was barely an inch of room between you and Bucky. Which, although you were managing to handle, was doing no good for the crush you realised you had slowly developed over the last couple of months. 

He’d just sat there across the desk, looking tired and all kinds of handsome. You’d seen him sitting like that a hundred times or more, but for some reason that night was when your stomach decided to erupt with butterflies. 

But, you were handling it. 

You thought you already had it handled until three days ago when Peggy cornered you in the ladies bathroom. Josie, one of the secretaries, had sauntered her way over looking all perfect and pretty. She’d touched his arm, leaning in close to him. He’s smiled at her and, despite seeing him smile at plenty of girls like that, even recently. For the first time, you’d been jealous. 

It was an ugly emotion and you didn’t like yourself very much for feeling it. Bucky- James. He was your friend. One of your best friends. Someone you could talk to about anything. There wasn’t a single part of you willing to risk that. 

“I’d say we’re a few months away from something actually happening.”

Bucky scoffed. “He’ll ask her out. He just needs a little coaching, that's all.”

“Coaching?” You laughed. “From who? You?”

Bucky seemed a little offended. “I’ve had plenty of successful dates.”

You tried to not let that sting as much as it did. 

“He just needs some confidence.”

You chuckled. “Okay, Romeo. But I know I’m right. And here.”

You pushed a file into his chest. 

“What’s this?” 

You tried to ignore the feeling that erupted inside of you when his hand brushed yours. 

“Your paperwork. I saw you sneak it into my pile last night.”

You continued on walking, Bucky walking a little further behind you.

“You know, if I knew the army contained this much paperwork, I would have had second thoughts.”

You just threw a smile over your shoulder to him, watching as he sat at his desk. 

Steve’s desk was joined onto his, meanwhile, directly diagonal to Bucky was your desk. In front of you was Peggy’s desk. So, although Peggy and Steve would have to turn a little to look at each other, you and Bucky had a direct eyeline to one another. 

Something else that didn’t help the crush you were harbouring on him. 

There was just something…handsome about the way he looked when he was concentrating. In his own little world, flipping and writing between pages. And for a moment, you’d wonder if that is what it would have been like if you’d gone to school together. 

You’d been with him to plenty of museums and tech conventions. You’d seen the true side of Bucky. One that was rarely seen. His nerdy wonder and enjoyment. 

It was barely two hours before Bucky stood and walked over to your desk. He had tried thirty minutes ago but the Colonel had walked by his desk, stopping in front of him since he’d caught him staring at you across the room. 

The Colonel had just hummed, however, before muttering something to himself. 

“Just as bad as the others.”

Bucky had wondered what the Colonel meant, until he followed his next eyeline over to the map desk where Steve was standing with Peggy. 

Then he moved on. 

Bucky knocked on your desk twice to get your attention. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“I was wondering if you’d want to come with me on Saturday.”

“Aren’t we working on Saturday?”

Bucky shook his head. “No. We’re both off. There’s a new exhibit being put on at the museum and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

Bucky had attended plenty of museum and tech conventions alone. But his favourite ones were the ones where you’d attend with him. He got to be closer to you. He’d hear you talk about whatever thing you’d been waiting to talk to him about. He got to hear your laugh and by the end of the night, he got to hold your hand. 

You smiled. “You need me to run the ladies off again?”

Bucky chuckled. “Maybe. Just so long as you stay.”

You looked up at him. This man. 

“Okay.”

Bucky smiled. “Pick you up at four?”

You nodded. “Okay.”

That was when a small alarm sounded and Bucky responded to it. 

“I better go,” he said before running off. But then he came back. “Make sure Peggy doesn’t touch my desk.”

You nodded. “I promise.”

Bucky smiled. “See you soon, doll.”

You smiled, watching him jog down the hall and towards the control room. Meanwhile, Howard appeared around the corner. 

“Y/n?”

You knew that look on his face. He needed your help.

“What have you done?”

Standing up, you left your things at your desk and followed him through the building and towards the basement. 

“I haven’t done anything. Well, not yet.”

You sighed. “Show me.”

Entering the room, it was just yourself, Howard and two of his researchers. “The chemical equation is wrong.”

“Don’t you know how to fix it?”

“It doesn’t need to be fixed.”

You looked at him as you examined his machinery. “I understand you’re incredibly smart, Howard. But you’re not making any sense.”

Howard sighed. “The last time I used it, it worked. My math is never wrong.”

“Then change it.”

“I can’t. Any higher and it won’t just melt the machinery, it’ll melt human skin.”

You grimaced at the thought. “You know, if you boys let women do more of the talking, there is a higher chance that war wouldn’t be taking place.”

“Well, right now there’s a war going on in here. Can you…can you help?”

You took a look at his blackboard. 

“It’s not your math.”

“I know that.”

You shrugged. “Have you tested a model of this size before?”

“That’s what today is for.”

“Uh, Mr Stark?” One of the researchers popped their heads up. “I think I might have found our problem.”

You watched as Howard walked over towards the control panel that had been recently forced open. 

“Well- what is that? Oh, jesus. Is that a bolt? What’s it doing-”

As Howard pulled it out, everyone heard a big clunk!

“Is the building still standing?” You asked after a few minutes of silence. 

Howard looked around at the walls and along the floor. Nothing had cracked the concrete. As far as he was aware; the building was still standing. 

“Yep. Must be one of the inner mechanisms. Hand me that crowbar?”

You spun around until you saw the workstation and picked up the rusting metal crowbar. 

“Military issue. Not the prettiest thing in the world, but she gets the job done.” Howard explained as he began to yank one of the side panels off. 

“We figure, if we can make this thing industrial size, we’ll be able to fit it on top of a tank. That way, if it fits on one, it can melt one.” Howard continued to talk as he lay on the floor and practically got inside of the machine itself. 

You crouched down on the floor, peering inside. There had to be at least thirty main electrical wires, feeding some kind of blue and green substance into tubes. 

“You become more peculiar the longer I know you, Howard.”

From his space on the floor, he looked at you and smiled. “Thanks. Pass me that thing, will you, toots?”

Rolling your eyes, you moved behind you and reached for the socket wrench that had been laying on the floor. You handed it to him before standing up and looking around the rest of the machine. 

“Do I even wanna know when you came up with this idea?”

“Uhh.”

Howard was stalling. Usually when he stalled it was because he had been in another tryst with a woman who was most definitely off limits. 

“Alright,” you chuckled. 

Howard sighed. “You know what, you’re always on at me about my…friends.”

“That’s what you’re calling them now? Not production assistants?”

“What about you and Bucky, huh? I see the way you two look at each other. You’re really gonna tell me nothing is going on there.”

“We’re just friends, Howard.”

“Friends, my ass.” Howard lifted himself from the ground to peek out of his hiding place to look at you. You were standing with one heel across the other, a hand on your hip, staring down at him like you were his mother scolding him for doing something wrong in school…again. 

“You and I are friends. No matter how many times I try to make it something else.” He muttered that last part to himself but you heard it anyway and chuckled. 

Howard was a flirt. A shameless flirt. It just so happened that, before Peggy, you were one of the first to let the flirting comments fall. 

Howard disappeared back under the machine for a moment. 

“You and Bucky, however, are not.”

“Howard-”

“What are you doing this weekend?”

“Going to a museum.”

“With?” Howard pressed. 

“Bucky.” 

Finally, Howard stood from the ground and looked at you across the console desk. 

“It’s not what you think.”

Howard just smiled. “You and Barnes are going on, yet another, date. You like him. I know, because every time you look at him, you get the same goofy look in your eyes that Mr Jarvis does when he looks at his wife.”

You tried to hide your embarrassment, but it only seemed to come out as annoyance against Howard. 

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. And, I also know,” Howard was moving around the console towards you. “That Bucky has deep feelings for you.” 

Howard was standing in front of you. He didn’t have to raise his voice anymore. 

“He likes you, Y/n. And we’re at war. I don’t like thinking like that, but there’s no escaping the truth. We’re at war and a lot more people are gonna be losing their loved ones. Maybe it’s about time you took a chance with yours.”

You just stared at Howard. He had a point. 

“He’d be lucky to have you.”

You took a breath before turning away. “I thought we were down here to start testing, not discuss my…that.”

Howard smiled. “You know I’m right,” he practically sang as he walked away, wielding his wrench like a conductor. 

Ten minutes later, everything was seemingly ready. 

As one of the other researchers left to go and get the Colonel, Howard started the controls up so everything would be ready by the time people arrived. 

Only, as Howard started flicking buttons, you stood up. 

“Howard.”

Something was beginning to shake in the room. 

“Is it meant to be doing that?”

“No…”

Howard moved around the panels to take a look at the dials. Everything seemed normal. 

Then it started to shake even more. 

It was almost like your washing machine had been set onto a fast spin, but this time you were inside of the rattling machine. 

“Howard!”

“I’m on it.”

“What can I do?”

Howard didn’t answer you, but it didn’t matter. Because within seconds, the arm of the machine started going haywire and as Howard yelled at everyone to get down, you felt the wind get knocked out of you. 

As Howard finally shut down the machine from the inside, tearing at one of the wires, the building stopped shaking and the Colonel, along with Peggy, ran inside. 

“Stark! What the hell is going on?!” The Colonel yelled. 

“I wish I could tell you.” Howard stood, his legs still shaking from the movement in the floor. “Something must have come loose.”

“What the hell is that?” 

Peggy pointed and everyone looked at what it was. A smattering of blue dust and what could only be described as a bullet exit wound, cracking into the concrete wall. 

More people joined, running inside asking questions but fell silent when they saw the damage. 

Cracks along the walls, machinery and different liquids on the floor, and a large crack in place of where you had been standing. 

“Y/n? Where’s Y/n?”

“Stark! Where is my Agent?!”

“I…I don’t…” Howard was in shock. 

Peggy sprang into action. Maybe you hadn’t been hit. Maybe you’d taken cover or not been in the room at all. People started following her orders to find you. 

“Stark, where is my agent?” The Colonel asked as he approached him. “Now, she better not be dead or else I’ll have your neck for this.”

Howard shook his head. “You need a body to be dead.”

They both knew that to be true, but considering the fight they were having with Red Skull and a Super Soldier, it was quite plausible to have a death without a body. 

Meanwhile, down one of the hallways, Peggy ran into both Bucky and Steve. 

“Hey, what the hell was that shaking-”

“Have you seen Y/n?”

“I thought she was with Howard.”

Peggy shook her head. “Something went wrong.”

“What went wrong?”

“We, uh, we don’t know yet. But I just…”

As Steve took Peggy by the shoulder, Bucky made a run for it down to Howard’s lab. He saw the Colonel sat with Howard, but his commander quickly stood up and walked over to him. 

“Barnes-”

“Where is she? What happened to her?”

“We’re still trying to figure that one out.”

In the days that followed, Bucky didn’t know his head from his feet. He’d just spoken to you that morning. You were meant to be meeting him for dinner that evening. He was meant to be taking you out that Saturday. 

Nobody could bring themselves to clear away your desk. It was just how you’d left it. Open files, half finished paperwork, scrap pieces of paper with ideas and things written down. 

But when the Colonel got word someone was coming in to replace you, he went to one person. 

“Son?”

It was after hours and Bucky was yet to leave his desk. Mostly, his eyes had been focused on your desk, where you should have been sitting, scolding him for staying too late because it meant you had to stay late. Then he’d tell you, you didn’t have to stay, to which you tell him you wouldn’t let him work alone. 

Bucky looked up and saw the empty box in his arms. 

“Someone needs to clean out her desk and I think it should be you. They’ve got a replacement coming tomorrow.”

Bucky swallowed down his fear; accepting you were gone for good. And he took the box. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss, son.” The Colonel held his shoulder as he stood up. “I know she meant a lot to you. You meant a lot to her, too.”

The Colonel had seen the red, tearful eyes of Bucky for the last few days. The dejected look each time he looked up and found your desk empty, the bow of his head as he’d hide his face every time someone said your name. 

It had taken both the Colonel and Steve to pull him from Howard’s throat. 

And now he was left to clear out your desk. 

And for a while, he managed to keep his emotions in check. Sweeping away your files, adding them to his pile to finish for you. Clipping all your notes together, cleaning away the ink stains of your fingerprints by the edge of your desk. 

Then taking the pictures from your desk, seeing your smiling face, placing them inside the box. 

Then he found a key. 

Bucky had pulled out your chair and sat down before opening up the locked drawer of your desk. That’s when all control over his emotions left him. 

Inside, along with some more of your personal belongings, was a notepad. Each date had been crossed off, as had the things listed under it. Except for the one that you had started at the beginning of the week. 

It was all the things you wanted to talk to him about; at dinner, walking home, and on Saturday. You made a list so you wouldn’t forget or accidently leave anything out. 

And for a second, he smiled. 

Then he cried. 

You’d never get to talk to him about these things. He’d never hear your voice again. He’d never see you smile or roll your eyes or scoff or hear you yell at him. He’d never hear you laugh again.

It was hours before he left your desk and went home, keeping your box of things under his bed in case you came back. Howard was adamant that you would. The blast wasn’t strong enough to kill, but it was strong enough to melt. But, he hadn’t made it to melt human skin. 

So you shouldn’t have died. 

You couldn’t be dead. 

You had to be alive…somehow. 

And that was the thought, for as much as he wanted to kill Howard, Bucky kept with him. 

That you were still out there, somewhere, and that you’d come home. 

But the longer time went on, the harder that idea was to accept. 

People started to mourn in their own ways. Mr Jarvis and his wife set out your favourite flowers on their dinner table on your birthday. The same flowers Howard started growing in his garden a week after you had disappeared. The Colonel had sent Peggy to make sure the gravestone issued for you was just right. Nothing too fancy; after all, there was still hope you’d come back. Steve, along with the other Howling Commandos, raised a toast in your honour. 

But when the day came that Bucky fell from the train…

Only one thing made him smile. And that was that he’d get to see you again. 

[lacy-oh-lacy]

Who fell first and who fell harder?

⤷Marvel Edition

She fell first but you fell harder:

Kate Bishop, Jane Foster, Sharon Carter

You fell first but she fell harder:

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

You fell first and harder:

Gamora, Peggy Carter, Shuri, Maria Hill

She fell first and harder:

Wanda Maximoff, Mantis, Rio Vidal

[angelremnants]

American Wedding | S. Rogers

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

pairing : Steve Rogers x f!reader

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

word count : 12.1k

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

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

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

(ao3 version)

The mission was over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know,” Steve said slowly.

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

“Tony—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

⠀⠀

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

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

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

She was Peggy’s niece.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve glanced back at him. “Just exploring.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He blinked, surprised you knew who he was.

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

He guessed he really did well in choosing his destination. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⠀⠀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That strong for you, Cap?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looked at you warily. “Weddings?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your grin widened. “Deal.”

⠀⠀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⠀⠀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⠀⠀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⠀⠀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⠀⠀

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

Today was his last day in Barbados.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⠀⠀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⠀⠀

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⠀⠀

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

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

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

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

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

⠀⠀

⠀⠀

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[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

⋆·˚˚°✦ Masterlist ✦°˚˚·⋆

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[fandomnerd9602]

Captain Peggy Carter runs out…

Peggy: Target’s on the move! Stark, where are you?

Y/N Stark lands and throws the target to the ground at Peggy’s feet…

Y/N: Carter, I believe this belongs to you. O Captain my Captain

Peggy: my Iron Knight (blushes)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

upon his grace 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, bullying, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are called to court after the end of the civil war, but find yourself facing many challenges, expected and not. (fantasy medieval au)

Characters: king!Steve Rogers

Note: bro, Idk how I start at point A and get to fucking outer space. Also happy bday to Steverino.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The gardens of Astra Castle are unlike any you’ve seen before. Certainly, you’ve never been to a royal castle previously. Your father’s own hold is modest, still bearing the wooden foundation, whereas the rich lords have poured mortar and built in stone. 

So, it is a great honour to be among the noble women chosen to serve the queen. Most unexpected. As a daughter of a lower house, it is rather unusual, but it comes with the newly set writ tabled at the end of the uprising. That is how your father tells it anyhow. 

King Steven is as newly crowned as he is newlywed. After a lengthy revolt against the previous king, the land has settled, and upon his victory, the new ruler promises the expansion of prosperity to all. The very precedence of his war rested on the greed of the former court and its covetous lords. 

To those who took up his mantle, he has made good his word. To the commoners, he has sent bread and ale, livestock and alms; to the nobles, he has granted titles and lands. You were of the same doubt as your father, however, you expected to be forgotten in the disarray. 

Yet, you were not. You’re there with several other ladies. A set of blond twins borne of a duke and duchess, the sole heir of a widowed countess, and several earl’s daughters such as yourself. Unlike them, you do not wear satin or silk, not muslin either. You have only the dyed linen your mother attempted to enhance with some embroidery around the cuffs and collar. 

“Marcia and Marigold,” the twins introduce themselves as you cluster together in the gardens, grooms and servants bustling around carriages and chests. “Lady Calliope,” they call out the countess’ daughter, “we met prior, yes? Your mother is near Estrela.” 

“She is,” Calliope answers in her stern manner, herself seeming a widow in her black dress. The shimmery fabric makes up for its single tone. 

“Ameri, Dorida, and... Selene,” they point to the other girls, themselves clothed in scarlet, rose, and azure respectively. “We know the earls, your fathers. They gathered at our father’s hold for the battle near Caffre.” 

The twins take turns speak so that sometimes you cannot track whose lips are moving. It is even that they trade off in the middle of sentences. You find yourself almost as lost by their words as your new surroundings. 

“And you...” The twins turn their jade eyes upon you. It is there you have found the only difference in them; they have the same heights, the same hair, the same gowns even, but there is a sliver of grey through Marcia’s green iris. “We haven’t figured who you are.” 

“My father is an earl. In Woodsdam.” 

“Woodsdam,” they echo in unison and share a look. They are perplexed. 

“A minor house,” Calliope provides. “a farmer more than a noble, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“We have vast lands and we tend to them, yes,” you assure. You expect their condescension. Your father warned you for it but he bid that you keep your chin up. The king has given him a mission of his own and so you will represent the family for the time. “We keep our people well and we fed the king’s troops when they marched." 

“Mm, sounds very... common,” Marigold grins and her sister snorts into her hand. 

“We know many lords like us, yes. They work hard amidst their vassals. It keeps the lands strong so that we may better serve the crown,” you return evenly.  

Your mother helped you prepare. She coached you to keep your manners and your spine. The latter is much more difficult as you face these ladies and their bobbles with only a ribbon in your hair and a pair of patched gloves. 

“Woodsdam? I think I rode through it once on the way to my grandfather’s summer castle,” Ameri tuts, “it was little more than a swamp.” 

“It must’ve been the spring rains, perhaps, lady,” you offer. 

“Summer house,” she enunciates, “one travels there in the summer.” 

Your cheek twitches at her barbed retort. Very well. You are not used to their sharpness. Their chittering has thus far centered on gossip and the cost of their new caps. 

“A wonder the pauper’s daughter received an invite. Are you certain you can read, lady?” Dorida snipes and looks to the twins for approval. You notice how they all tend to do so. 

“It was sent to my father, Lord Eldon,” your voice quavers. You are not so strong as your mother bid you to be.  

They cackle at your meek response, “the precious maiden of Woodsdam.” 

You put your head down as the activity all around threatens to swallow you up. You wish the ground would rent and you would fall right through. All your excitement has dissipated to a sludge in your veins. You touch your cheek as you try not to show your embarrassment. 

“The Lord of Woodsdam,” a deep voice startles you as boots approach from behind, “is that what I heard?” 

You stiffen up as the ladies before you hush and blink, almost in tandem. They curtsey as their faces wash over in shock and you turn to face the newcomer. A man in a deep blue vest over black sleeves and grey breeches. He wears belt of gold and a circlet across his brow in a similar hue. It is that which betrays his statues. 

You lower your eyes and mimic the other women, mortified to be faced with new king so informally. You would not think him wandering out in the yard. Still, he has vowed to be unlike the former leige. That he would be of the people. 

“King Steven, your majesty,” the others titter in a messy chant and you murmur your own propriety as you back away. You find yourself still to the shoulder of the king as the other ladies give no room for you to join. 

The vision of him stains your mind. He is tall, with dark blond tresses that extend past his neck, and blue eyes which put his own attire to shame. He has a jaw which looks etched in stone and a bearing which matches his rank. He is tall and broad and a finely built knight. 

“It is an honour,” Marcia says most boldly. 

“You may rise,” he allows in a breezy timbre. “I did hear my wife would receive new ladies. Young ladies.” 

“Your majesty,” the murmur rolls across each lip. 

“It is much needed. We have so many established ladies at court and yet we need to think of the future. Of the next generation,” he declares as he emphasizes his words with his large hand. You watch his garnet ring to keep from so brazenly looking him in the face. 

“Certainly, your majesty,” Marcia and Marigold chime in unision. 

“And don’t worry for there are many young lords as well,” the king laughs galely at the quip which makes the ladies, yourself included, blush. “Ah, then, Woodsdam I believe we were speaking of...” 

You blink and glance at the other ladies. They are cowed, unsure if they were overheard in their derision. You hope as much as they that they were not. It is rather unflattering. 

“My father, Lord Eldon,” you explain, “your majesty.” 

“You? You are the young lady of Woodsdam I heard so much of.” 

“You did? Er, your majesty,” you curtsey apologetically; unnecessarily. 

“Certainly, I did. Your father was a great assistance in me holding counsel with the lower lords. He is very patient. “When not about his duty, he spoke of you oft. Though what matters are more important than family?” 

“Yes, your majesty,” you can’t help a smile, “my father is a very kind man.” 

“Kind and courageous. I’m certain you’ve inherited as much,” the king praises, “and these other ladies. The twins who belong to Mawsley, the Countess of Clovers daughter, and the three earls daughters from the White Plains.” 

The ladies each bow their heads as he proclaims them by their forebearers’ titles. You watch from aside, feeling even more out-of-place. The king recites them all proudly as he extends a finger for each. 

“Allow me myself to extend a welcome to Astra. When you are sorted, my wife shall receive you all and have you acquainted with the grounds. I hope you enjoy them, we’ve had the gardeners at work day and night,” he pronounces, “for now, I must be off, for a king has many obligations and not so much time.” 

He bows and turns on his heel, marching off with his shoulder straight and head high. He walks as a soldier does, not some lord. You’ve seen the difference before, more recently in the aftermath of battle. A soldier is more akin to a farmer, much as your father, whereas a Lord tends to keep his steps tight. 

“Wow, oh my,” Dorida fans herself, “he is rather handsome.” 

“Oh yes,” Marcia and Marigold say, the latter forging ahead, “we met him at our father’s castle. He is ever so charming.” 

“Hm, and the queen would love to hear it, I’m certain,” Calliope intones brusquely. 

“The queen is not here,” Ameri sneers, “so what does it matter? Besides, is it so wrong to state a truth?” 

“He is very elegant,” Selene agrees. 

“Much too kind, as well,” Marigold snips, “Woodsdam? He speaks as if it more than some paltry farmhouse.” 

“You’d never even heard of it,” Calliope remarks. 

“And how had you, hm? You seem the bookish type. Perhaps you should leave the maps to the men. What good will a river or road do for a widow’s welp?” 

“Needn’t be cruel,” Calliope rebuffs. 

“Pity if this is the lot they send,” Marcia shakes her head as the sisters share another cryptic look. 

You keep to yourself. That is all you can do. It is better to watch and learn than to leap and land wherever you might. Your mother always said so and she was your best teacher. 

“Right, there must be some maid who might show us to our rooms,” Marigold stands on her toes and waves at each passing servant. “I tire of the sunlight and boorish company.” 

👑

You have two trunks awaiting you in your chambers. Not as the other ladies who had at least a dozen each. Less humble than your lunger are the rooms themselves.

There is an antechamber hung with tapestries showing wildlife and flora, a table set for two and cushioned bench by the window. The bedroom is draped in similar hangings with a four-post bed and a grand hearth. A desk, another bench, a woven carpet, and fine accouterments on square tables. And a closet for the commode as well and a pot in the far corner of the bedchamber. 

If only your mother and father could see this. They would be just as amazed. You can’t help but admire all of it. To touch the curtains as you approach the window and stare off at the afternoon sky. The gardens are a medley of hues; petals and thorns; leaves and dirt. It’s all so wonderful, you can still hardly believe it. 

Seems those other ladies can’t either. You can’t help but think of their words anon. They said so outrightly what you doubted inwardly. You don’t belong here. It must be so clear to them. 

You lean on the ledge and peer down into the garden pathways. It is almost a labyrinth with how intricately they’ve laid out the hedges. You lower yourself down to your elbows and cross your arms as you sigh. 

Your eyes are drawn from the swaying roses to the dark speck that appears below. You squint at first. From the second floor, it is harder to discern. It is the glimmer of gold in his hair and the defined gait that gives away the king. For an instant, you believe you might be dreaming. 

He walks along one path and to the next. There is another with him. A man with darker hair and a stauncher figure. They speak and stop just as they enter a circled walkway centered by a large vase of flowers. The other man talks, though you can hear neither, and the king rubs his chin. 

You should turn away. They might think you an eavesdropper. Oh, too late! You don’t dare move as the king tilts his head. You wouldn’t want to pique his attention. You cannot tell if he has spotted you. Not until he raises a hand and waves. The other man stops and looks to follow the gesture. 

You stand up straight but before you can flee in horror, you recall yourself. It is improper to turn your back to the king. You lift your hand and return the wave. He dips his head and turns to clap his companion’s shoulder, pointing him onward. 

Oh, you hope he is not unhappy. If you pray, perhaps he will not have recognised you. You needn’t an enemy of the king as well. 

[cece693]

We Belong Together (DARK! Steve Rogers x M! Reader)

Just something that came to mind and couldn't help but write it. Please tell me if you like this style of writing more or prefer my original one. Thanx for reading!

Summary: Dating Steve Rogers was more difficult than you'd imagined. He was a man riddled with insecurities and, unfortunately, this affected your relationship.

tags: dark Steve Rogers, manipulation, the Avengers are no help, toxic relationship, not Steve friendly, gaslighting, no happy ending and ambiguous ending

Your relationship with Steve was rocky, to say the least. And you know it sounded stupid because you're dating Captain America, the epitope of male perfection and respect, but you weren't dating him. You were dating Steve Rogers, the man who was always beaten to a pulp behind alleyways before the serum took over. The man who did everything to fit in, but was neglected due to his health problems and scrawny appearance. And in a way, you sympathized with Steve—he was still the boy seeking acceptance from everyone, and you, who he'd let into his heart after the whole Peggy fiasco, couldn't desert him. But there was a line between what you would label as love and obsession.

It would be fine if Steve wanted to spend each weekend lazing about in bed, arms wrapped around you, not wanting to let you even use the bathroom, but it was another story if he had your location turned on and was texting you hurtful messages implying infidelity. You'd let it pass one time, but when it became a routine, and Steve became more suffocating to be around, you realized you'd fucked up. No breakup was easy, but when you're doing it to Steve Rogers, a man who was known for his determination and unwillingness to change his mind, it would be near impossible.

With his job as a full-time Avenger, there was never a good time for you to sit down and talk to Steve. He was either tired or stressed, with the latter making you squeamish to even interact with. No Steve was pleasant to deal with, as of late, but a stressed Steve was walking into enemy ground. If the damage to the punching bags was any indication. However, it seems whatever God above favored you when your boyfriend announced he'd asked for a week off to spend it with you. His smile was genuine, but you noted the strange twinkle in his eyes when he casually noted that it would be your anniversary.

"Who knows what surprise I have in store for you." He said, but those words, said with so much innocence had you fretting. You hated to do it, but it seemed you'd be breaking up with him before his plan could come to fruition.

"Steve, about that..." You trailed off, looking away from him to gain courage, but found none. "I don't think we're working out. I want to break up." There, you said internally, just like ripping off a bandaid. You risked looking up at Steve and instantly regretted it. He had a look of silent fury and violence??? but then it washed over with indifference. You expected yelling, even begging, but silence stung more. "I'm sorry, but I..." How would you broach the topic of his toxicity without sounding like a total asshole?

"Is there someone else?" Steve interrupted, quite rudely. He tilted his head, mind racing with every person who'd ever interacted with you. Who had convoluted your mind into breaking up with him? If there was another man, Steve would make them regret their existence. Taking what wasn't theirs to begin with. "Is it Thomas? I knew he wasn't just a friend."

"No!" You shouted, hurt by the implication. Thomas was a co-worker who you befriended—he was like a brother to you, nothing more, nothing less. "This is part of the problem, Steve. You think I always cheat, making me feel stupid for overreacting to your jealousy when it's unhealthy as hell."

"But you always seem so close to everyone else." Your ex replied, his voice wavering between anger and insecurity. "How am I supposed to feel when I see you laughing and talking with Thomas like that?"

You shook your head, frustration boiling over. "How are you supposed to feel?! You're supposed to trust me, Steve! You're supposed to know that if I'm with you, it's because I chose you. But you keep pushing me away with all this suspicion. It's exhausting."

Steve clenched his fists, struggling to find the words. "I only act this way because I care about you, because I don't want to lose you. You know how much I love you. If I didn't care so much, I wouldn't be jealous." He knew it was a stupid reason, but Steve was desperate. He wouldn't lose you over something he had no control over. Didn't you know how handsome, pretty, and unique you truly were? Didn't you see the hungry stares people throw your way? It was Steve's duty as a boyfriend to show them you were taken; his completely.

"That's another thing, Steve! You alienating me from my friends and co-workers."

Steve's face twisted in frustration. "So, what? I should just sit back and let whomever get close to you?"

"I can't control everyone's actions, Steve! Don't try to guilt trip me into thinking your behavior is normal...it isn't. Your reaction just reaffirms my decision." Not wanting to face your ex any longer, you stood up from the table and headed to the door. After all, this was Steve's apartment, and as much as he tried to encourage you to move in, right now you were grateful you stood your ground. But not even before your hand touched the doorknob, Steve's whimpers sounded behind you.

Steve panicked seeing you near the door. You had to understand—he never meant to make you angry, he just loves you so much that perhaps his behavior did come off as overbearing. But this was for your own good, Steve thought, you were too naive, too trusting of people who would only take advantage of you. With tears in his eyes, Steve began to whimper and make himself look half his size. "I'm sorry. I'll change, I promise, but please don't leave me. I love you."

It irked Steve that you didn't face him, but when he saw you pause, his heart rejoiced. Just for it to quickly fall again when you did open the door and told him you couldn't do this anymore. Unable to do anything as you finally closed the door, leaving him alone, Steve's anger made an appearance. Grabbing the closest thing to him, he flung it to the wall and continued to do so until every single item in his living room lay in thousands of tiny little pieces.

You're acting irrationally, Steve told himself. You'll soon come to realize the grave mistake you are making. I'm the only one who could protect and love you. I'll give you space to calm down, and then, perhaps you can understand me.

A week had passed since you'd broken up with Steve, and the man wasn't taking the news well. He believed you would've crumbled and ran back into his arms once the day ended, but when you hadn't called, much less answered his messages, the man grew furious. How dare you block his number and change the locks on your door? Did you have a visitor over, taking advantage of his absence to fuck whomever you desired? Didn't he mean anything to you? The week's absence had made Steve spiral out of control.

The reasonable part of him told him to move on, respect your wishes, and cease contact, but this was you. You weren't replaceable to Steve, oh no, he would make you stand by his side until death do part. Didn't you see you guys were meant to be? It also probably didn't help that the Avengers took his side and began feeding into Steve's delusions.

"I don't get it, man. You treat him right and love him unconditionally. How could he break your heart?" Was Tony's response once he heard of your relationship status. "He's dumb to break things off. I can only hope my relationship with Pepper is as strong as yours." Yeah, Tony wasn't really a help in calming Steve down.

Meanwhile, you were picking up the pieces of your life. Reconnecting with friends Steve had frightened off and taking a much-needed vacation from New York. You couldn't escape Steve when he was a public image—Captain America basically ruled over New York and had a place in people's hearts.

Sitting down at the little cabin you rented for the month, you sipped on your coffee and rethought your plans. Initially, you wanted to just start anew in New York, forget about Steve, and continue living your life, but that was thrown out the window. You could sense eyes wherever you went after breaking things off with Steve, and you might be crazy for saying such a thing, but you knew Steve. Knew he would pull strings to keep in contact and have an eye on you.

It also wasn't unreasonable to make such a connection when Steve was the leader of the Avengers—a team of superheroes with varying skills and resources. So your original plan of staying turned into you seeking residence as far away from the U.S. as possible. Yet, when you believe you've found the perfect place, something gets in the way—your bank is unable to transfer funds, the listing immediately reads as sold, the realtor not answering your calls. Every hindrance only makes you come to the same conclusion—Steve.

Yelling when the mug shattered in your hand, hot coffee burning your skin, you realized you weren’t alone. The front door of the cabin was closed, but standing next to it was Steve. The nearby lamp cast a dim, flickering light over his figure, highlighting his state of disarray. His once clean-cut appearance was gone, replaced by stubble, messy hair, and a simple t-shirt with jeans that looked like they’d been slept in. "Get out." You hissed, but the man only stepped closer, frightening you. "Get out! I don't want anything to do with you."

"I tried to be nice, and give you space, but nothing works." Steve said, ignoring your wishes as he advanced toward you. For every step he took, you stepped back twice. You couldn't help but fear for your safety when Steve disregarded your wishes and had this glint of madness in his eyes. "I need you. Can't you see that?"

Your back hit the wall, trapping you as Steve loomed closer. You never took your eyes off him, every nerve in your body screaming for you to escape, but there was nowhere left to go. "Steve, please." you begged, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and desperation. "You're scaring me. This isn't love."

Steve’s hand reached out, brushing against your cheek in a gesture that once might have been tender, but now only filled you with dread. "You’ll see, in time. You’ll remember how good we were together. You just need to stop fighting it."

Before you could react, Steve's hand shot out, gripping your chin with a force that made you wince. In a flash, he pulled you closer and crushed his lips against yours, his kiss bruising and possessive. You struggled against him, trying to push him away, but his arms were too strong, locking you in place as he held you tightly.

Your mind raced, panic surging through you as you fought to break free. This was not the man you once cared for; this was someone consumed by a twisted obsession, willing to do anything to keep you. Tears welled in your eyes as you clawed at his arms, desperate for air, desperate to escape.

[wandanatsub]

Morning sex

I was imagining how the MCU women would wake you up for morning sex and got stuck on Wanda... Now I finally wrote blurbs for a few characters and I will post them as soon as I've edited them.

Wanda: She finds a new spell in the Darkhold and wants to try it out, doesn't matter that you're still asleep. Link

Kate: She wakes up horny, so she gets up and puts on her favorite strap. She wakes you up, rubbing it against your ass, asking which hole you would like stuffed this fine morning.

Monica: She's so nice about waking you up, soft kisses pressed all over you face. She makes you choose between her strap, fingers and mouth. She even let's you set the pace but is not afraid to help out when you're too tired.

Xialing: The head of the Ten Rings worked through the night, but luckily you were able to sleep a few hours. On your blanket. Next to her throne. In a room bustling with her goons and soldiers. Naked.

Agatha: You fall asleep with her strap inside you, you wake up with her strap inside you. But she's been awake for longer than you.

Captain Carter: Peggy comes back from a mission while you're sleeping, so when you wake up with her thigh between yours, you grind on it until she wakes up and fucks you properly. Link

Carol and Valkyrie: You wake up sandwiched between them, hot and sweaty, but you're not going to complain. Especially not when they remind you of your manners.

Hela: A sharp pull on your leash wakes you up on your matress next to her bed. But you're smart enough not to move until she tells you to.

Author's Note: I wrote most of these in a public library and tried really hard not to include my raging mommy kink in any of them. Agatha will always make me fail at that. Other warnings would be a bouquet of straps, some pet play, maybe some dubious consent, but definitely soft!Monica. Individual warnings will be in separate posts. If you want to see a specific character first, come scream at me about it.

[rewiringtoheal]

To Exist Here With You

Alpha!PeggyNat x Omega!Reader

Summary: Your Alpha's risk their lives everyday to protect you from the horrors that plague humanity. They are not prepared in the slightest for the moment you decide to do the same for them.

words: 2, 444

Warning: canon typical violence, gunshot wound, Talks of blood, emotional conversations, angst.

Chaos. You were surrounded by pure chaos. Detecting the hydra infiltration earlier this week was a piece of cake compared to this. You are a high clearance tech analyst within Shield and have bare minimum field experience. Right now, you wish you had listened to your Alphas when they tried to get you to train with them. You were naive thinking Black Widow and Captain Carter would always be around to protect you. Never stopping to realize that maybe one day they would be the ones that need protecting. You’re hiding in plain sight behind a clothing line watching your love's battle for their lives. 

Peggy is getting pummeled around by the hydra stomper. It makes your stomach churn with fear. You know she’s giving it her all. If there is any way she can save you and Natasha she’s going to take it. Even if it’s at the expense of her own life. The absolute idiot. Meanwhile, Natasha is valiantly taking on the Iron Maiden, knowing full well that if the Red Room gets their hands on the three of you, it’s game over.  She’s tired and slowing down after fighting through waves of other black widows beforehand. They both are reaching their limits. God, why did you have to mate with such self-sacrificing Alphas? There has to be something you can do. 

Your inner Omega keeps screaming for you to save them from their fates. Protect them. You can’t lose your mates. It’s too painful. You must save them. The odds of not getting captured are high with the red room scanning for living beings within their nuclear village but you can’t stay here anymore. Looking between both battles you see that Peggy and the hydra stomper seem to have come to a stalemate during your inner contemplation. She may be trying to convince Steve who he really is and with any luck hopefully she will be able to break through to him. Your decision made on where to go you finesse your way closer to where Natasha is battling the Iron Maiden. You’ve never seen her get thrown around like this. It’s terrifying to watch.

The way to protect Natasha becomes abundantly clear within a few seconds. You know they are going to be furious with you if you somehow survive this but if they are willing to lay their lives down for you. Why can’t you do the same for them? The Iron Maiden has Natasha on the ground with a heel stepping purposefully on her throat. A gun aimed point blank. You react without thinking, lunging towards her with speed you didn’t know you possessed, tackling her to the ground. You hear the sound of the gunshot going off from beneath you but nothing compares to the feeling of the bullet piercing your abdomen. Time feels like it’s moving in slow motion as your body grows taut from the pain. You’re not quite sure what happens after that. All you can focus on is the warmth of the blood seeping out of your body as it pours onto the ground around you. You hear your Alpha’s howling in grief and the swish of Peggy’s shield. It is truly a mystery to you how you end up cradled in Natasha’s arms. She keeps telling you to stay with them. The look of despair in her eyes makes you want to, but you're so tired. Peggy’s trying her hardest to keep pressure on the wound. It seems to be in vain. You don’t want her to blame herself but the heart broken look she’s shooting you tells you all you need to know.

“Darling, please hang on. The quinjet is almost here.” Peggy pleads. 

You want to stay more than anything. To live a lifetime with them is your dream but you're growing so cold. Your eyelids are so heavy. You no longer have the strength to hold them open. As you start to fade away you can’t help but think how thankful you are that the last thing you will see on this earth are the beautiful faces of your mates. 

“No, Detka. Keep your eyes open for me, please.” Natasha cries.

You really wish you could.

xXx

You know something awful happened to you. You just aren’t sure what it is. You can’t seem to open your eyes no matter what you do. Every minute of the day is spent in darkness. You can hear the sounds of steady beeping and muffled voices. You can feel a weight resting in your right hand. You can even smell the most exquisite aroma and feel soft lips press against your forehead. 

On some days, the muffled voices turn into only one voice. This voice pleads with you to wake up. You wish you could more than anything. If not to figure out what’s going on then to bring comfort to this person. Everytime it happens the person seems to grow more and more desperate for you to come too. 

You’re not sure how long this cycle has been repeating. It could be days, a month, or even a year. Truthfully you’re not even sure if you are alive anymore. It feels like you are just continuously drifting through a never ending limbo. Is this person you so desperately want to comfort even real? Are you even real anymore?

All these questions float around your sluggish brain until one day something feels different. Someone is coaxing you back to this world. You can feel your mind getting sharper and becoming more aware. You can feel yourself reconnecting with your body and you feel a dull ache in your abdomen. A bright light looms over your eyes. And for the first time in a long time your eyes flutter open. And everything rushes back to you. The memories of the Iron Maiden pulling out a gun and aiming it directly at Natasha. The piercing pain after intercepting it and the howls of grief stricken Alphas echoing around you.

You are brought back to the present moment by a woman's voice. You look around seeing the familiar face of Dr. Cho in pink scrubs.

“Miss Y/L, I hope you remember me. It’s Dr. Cho, sweetie. You were in a very serious accident and have been in a medically induced coma for the last three weeks. Your body needed time to heal from the bullet wound and the amount of blood loss you suffered. Don’t try to speak, we haven't taken your breathing tube out yet.” Dr. Cho said soothingly. 

Before you can fully take in what she has said. You feel the weight in your hand give a tight squeeze. You move your eyes to the right and see a very disheveled Natasha Romanoff. She looks like she hasn’t slept for days; dark black bags are underneath her eyes. Her hair is in a messy bun and she's wearing one of your old MIT sweatshirts. What really rocks you to your core though is the lingering look of devastation mixed with hope in those beautiful green orbs. It breaks your heart. The person pleading with you to wake up was Natasha. And you’re not sure how to process that. Your mate has always been soft for you but the stoic Alpha displaying her emotions so openly is jarring. 

Your eyes flick around the room in search of your other mate. Until they land on the familiar regal silhouette of your Alpha staring at you through the room window, tears cascading down Peggy’s cheekbones. The longing in her gaze is undeniable. You wonder why she's so far away from you before returning your gaze to Natasha. As you lay there staring at her you can see the devastation and hope quickly turn into panic.

“Is this normal? She doesn’t seem to know what’s going on? What if she didn’t get enough oxygen to her brain when she was down?” Natasha’s voice was coated with worry.

“She is stable right now and coming out of a coma, Nat.  It’s normal for her to be a little out of it. There is nothing to worry about yet. I will tell you if that changes.” Dr. Cho reassured her.

Natasha didn’t look convinced in the slightest. And knowing her as well as you do, you knew she was ramping up for a fight, so you mustered up all the energy you had in you. And you squeezed her hand. Natasha’s eyes snap to yours; fresh tears spring to those emerald eyes you love so much.

“Y/n?” she whimpered. 

xXx

The past few weeks have been quite the journey. Recovering from a fatal bullet wound is no joke. The pain and anxiety that has come with it has been overwhelming. You wouldn’t have been able to get through it without your Alpha’s. They have been the most supportive partners while you heal. That being said, as Dr. Cho examines you for the last time before you’re released from the med bay; you can’t help but stare at the pacing Alpha’s through the window. Their behavior as of late is concerning you. Natasha can barely have you out of her sight while Peggy is always here to support you but she’s grown distant. It’s understandable. It really is but it’s terrifying you. 

“Well Miss. Y/L, your healing has exceeded expectations. You’re going to need to take it easy for a while but you will be out of here in no time.” Dr. Cho moves to gently rest her hand on your shoulder. Giving it a comforting squeeze. “I know you're scared right now but they are dealing with what happened to you in their own way. Believe it or not they are in far better shape then they were when you were brought in.”

“I can’t imagine they were any better than I am when one of them ends up here. I never wanted them to feel that pain but I did what I had to do to protect them.” You shrug helpless and full of sorrow. 

Dr. Cho gives you a soft smile. “I get it. Trust me. They just aren't used to being on this side of things. They are always the heroes that end up waking up from injuries, not the loved ones that worry over said injuries.” She chuckles a little. “And those Alpha’s of yours are always so quick to blame themselves.”

“I know…I don’t know what to do.” You whisper.

“You talk to them, sweetie. Now, it’s about time we let those two back in here so you three can get on home.”

xXx

Your Alpha’s fluff the pillows and cushions your nest is made out of. Before tucking you in with blankets they’ve scented to bring you comfort. The relief you feel surrounded by their scent is instant. Your scattered mind clears and your sore abdomen finds solace in the warmth. 

Peggy kneels beside you, caressing your cheek. “Do you need anything else, love?”

“We can get you more blankets or a couple of our hoodies if you’re not comfy enough, Detka.” Natasha snuggles into your unoccupied side, gently rubbing her nose over your scent gland. 

You allow yourself to bask in their presence for a few seconds, pulling Peggy down to lay with you as well. The familiar essence of cinnamon clove and lavender grow stronger as you cuddle them.

“I’m as comfortable and as happy as I could ever be here with you guys. The only thing I need is for the two of you to start talking to me about what happened. Natasha can barely stand to have me out of her sight and Peggy is here physically…but emotionally not so much.” 

The arms wrapped around you squeeze you just a tad bit tighter. You watch Peggy’s brows furrow and her deep, chocolate brown eyes fill with guilt. You feel wet tears sliding down your neck where Natasha clings to you. 

“Darling, I didn’t mean to neglect you in this way. I couldn’t bare to see you in that hospital bed,  looking so pale and fragile. It broke me. I’m so sorry, I haven't been handling this well.” Peggy pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing. “You have to understand how difficult this is for us. When I heard that shot ring out and saw you laying there. I couldn’t..” 

The sob she releases breaks your hearts. “Peggy, I do understand, I promise. We all deal with pain in a different way. The terror I feel everytime I get a call about you or Natasha being injured is unbearable but I always talk to you guys about it. You can’t lock your feelings away, sweetheart.”

“I know…I think I’ve been trying to avoid facing this. We watched our Omega almost bleed out. It was harrowing. There was nothing Nat or I could do but apply pressure to your wound while watching you drift away.” she croaks, her teary eyes searching yours. “I’ve lost so many people in my lifetime but losing you or Nat…I wouldn’t survive it.”

You hesitate, struggling to find the right words. “And I wouldn’t survive losing either of you. The Iron Maiden would have shot Natty.  I couldn’t let that happen.” Your eyes well up with tears, pleading with them. “I’m sorry for the pain it caused you both but I will not apologize for saving her.”

Peggy inhales shakily. “You didn’t tell me that, Nat.” she reaches for her with heart broken eyes. “I almost lost you both.”

A choked sob escapes Natasha’s lips, as she burrows further into you. “Our Omega shouldn’t have had to save me. I should have been stronger…Everytime I close my eyes I see it. The endless pool of red that spilled out of her, the paleness of her skin and the way the light left her eyes. It was supposed to be me.” she said, voice thick with despair.   

“Oh baby, no. Don’t you dare say that. I survived what happened. I’m here with you both. If it had been you. We would have lost you. The Iron Maiden was aimed right at your-” you can’t even finish the sentence, so overcome with anguish. 

Trembles overtake the three of you as you lay clutching onto one another. Your Alpha’s openly weeping onto your collarbone, as you drag their hands together, intertwining them over your heart.

“See, my brave, strong, fearless Alpha’s. I’m here, feel the pounding of my heart underneath your hands. And the pulse of each other in your palms.”

“I love you so much, my darlings.” Peggy mewls.

“I love you two more than anything.” Natasha whispers.

“I love you too, my precious Alphas.”

[untoldreader]

Arrival at the Hydra base

Natasha Romanoff x Peggy Carter x Maria Hill x Reader

Summary

Y/N was transported to the Hydra base under the control of the Red Room and Hydra. The Avengers arrived, disrupting their plans and uncovering Y/N's involvement in the "Red Soldier" project as "The Executioner."

Warnings

None?

[—Chapter One: Arrival at the Hydra Base—]

The cold metal chains chafed against my wrists as I was escorted by the Red Room operatives towards the awaiting transportation to the Hydra base. There was no escape for me, as both organizations held ownership over my very existence. My heart pounded with a mix of fear and determination as I prepared myself for the unknown challenges that awaited me at the Hydra facility.

The journey to the Hydra base was shrouded in secrecy, with the Red Room operatives ensuring my compliance through subtle threats and promises of power. The vehicle that carried me was unmarked, its windows tinted to conceal the outside world. My thoughts raced as I tried to piece together what my future held in this new environment controlled by Hydra.

As we approached the Hydra base, the atmosphere grew increasingly tense. The air was heavy with the weight of darkness and oppression that permeated the very walls of the facility. The sight of armed guards standing at attention sent a chill down my spine, reminding me of the danger that lurked within these walls.

The gates of the Hydra base loomed before us, opening with a sinister creak that echoed through the silent night. As I was led inside, I couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding wash over me. This was a place of secrets and shadows, where loyalty was bought with blood and betrayal lurked around every corner.

I steeled myself for what lay ahead, knowing that my survival depended on my ability to navigate the treacherous waters of Hydra's domain. Little did I know that my arrival at the Hydra base would mark the beginning of a journey that would test my limits and push me to the brink of darkness.

The sudden arrival of the Avengers at the Hydra base sent shockwaves through the facility, catching the guards off guard and throwing the carefully laid plans of the Red Room and Hydra into disarray. The sound of screeching tires and the roar of engines filled the air as the Avengers' quinjet touched down outside the base, a symbol of hope and resistance against the darkness that lurked within.

Iron Man's suit gleamed in the dim light as he led the charge, followed closely by Captain America, Black Widow, Thor, and the rest of the team. Their presence was a beacon of light in the shadowy depths of the Hydra base, a reminder that justice would prevail against tyranny and oppression.

As the Avengers stormed the base, their weapons at the ready, chaos erupted in their wake. Hydra agents scrambled to defend their stronghold, while Red Room operatives fought tooth and nail to protect their secrets. The clash of metal and gunfire reverberated through the halls, a symphony of battle that echoed the fierce determination of those who fought for freedom.

Peggy Carter and Maria Hill, seasoned agents in their own right, joined forces with the Avengers, their expertise and skill adding an extra layer of strategy to the assault on the Hydra base. Together, they navigated the labyrinthine corridors, searching for the hidden files that held the key to unraveling the dark web of Hydra and the Red Room.

As they delved deeper into the heart of the base, the Avengers and their allies uncovered a trove of classified documents and encrypted files, each one a piece of the puzzle that would expose the true extent of Hydra's influence and the Red Room's insidious machinations. The truth lay buried within those files, waiting to be brought to light by the heroes who stood against the forces of evil.

As the Avengers sifted through the classified files they had recovered from the Hydra base, a particular document caught Black Widow's sharp eye. She carefully scanned the contents, her expression darkening as she realized the implications of what they had uncovered.

"This is it," she murmured, her voice low yet filled with urgency. "This file details the project known as 'The Red Soldier'... and it appears that Y/N is at the center of it all."

Captain America and Iron Man gathered around as Black Widow continued to read, her brow furrowed in concern. The revelation that Y/N had been subjected to such a sinister project sent a shiver of anger down their spines. But what truly chilled them to the core was the discovery of Y/N's code name: "The Executioner."

"Y/N... The Executioner," Captain America repeated, his jaw clenched in determination. "We need to find them and put an end to this madness once and for all."

The Avengers shared a collective resolve as they realized the gravity of the situation. Y/N, their friend and ally, had been weaponized by Hydra and the Red Room, transformed into a lethal force to be reckoned with. But they knew that beneath the code name and the sinister project lay the true spirit of Y/N, a person of courage and strength who deserved to be liberated from the shadows that had ensnared them.

The journey ahead would be treacherous, but with their combined strength and unwavering resolve, they knew that they would stop at nothing to save their friend and bring justice to those who had sought to manipulate and control them.

Next Chapter-> Masterlist->

Hydra file->

[moonlightbae7775]

Yn:hey i just noticed your first name is my middle name

(Natasha gives Yn a tight lipped smile)

Yn:there’s a high possibility if I don’t see my girlfriend in the next twenty four hours I’m burn down this tower with everyone in it.

Bonus

(Natasha watching the tower burn down and yn being detained)

[chloe-skywalker]

Be Safe - Bucky Barnes

Bucky x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mention of Bucky losing his arm

Word count: 1,138

Summary: 1940’s - What if they found Bucky after the fall? What if HYDRA never took him?

Authors Note: Neat little idea I had and I LOVE it!

Masterlist

Avengers Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“You promise that you’ll both be safe?” Y/n was worried about her boys. Y/n and Peggy were very similar in the way they fought alongside the men. But they weren’t allowed to go on every mission. When they couldn’t be there it made the two women more anxious. Peggy worried about Steve, and Y/n worried for her friend Steve, but mostly for her husband Bucky. Jame Buchanan Barnes. The love of her life.

“We’ll try.” Steve smiled at his lifelong friend.

“We’ll come back, doll.” Bucky stated reassuringly. He smiled at her and kissed her cheek. “Promise.”

“You can’t promise that.” Y/n wished she could just believe him but that's not how war works.

“I’ll come back to you, doll. I promise and I’ll bring this punk back with me.” Bucky rested his forehead to her’s, not a worry in his eyes. He truly believed the words he was telling her.

“We gotta go back.” Steve spoke up standing next to Peggy. Steve smiled at Y/n as the couple pulled apart. “Bye, y/n/n. We’ll be back soon.”

Peggy and Y/n stood next to each other as the two women watched their men leave. Y/n couldn’t help the feeling that something was gonna happen.

^     ^     ^

Y/n tired to keep busy, keep her mind off the fact that Bucky was in danger.

Luckily they came back before nightfall of the next day. Peggy and Y/n smiled as they saw Steve, knowing Bucky wouldn’t be far behind. But when Y/n saw him on a stretcher that's when her heart rate picked up drastically.

“Bucky?” Y/n said out loud in shock at his state before her eyes. “Oh my God.” she covered her mouth at the site of him missing his arm.

“He’s stable, okay? They're gonna help him.” Steve pulled y/n into him, comforting her the best he could. Steve held her tight hoping to calm her, knowing how scared she must be. Bucky was covered in blood and missing his arm.

“What happened Steve?” Y/n asked pulling back some to look up at the blonde. Peggy rested a comforting hand on Y/n’s shoulder. Y/n was trying to keep her emotions in check. Be strong but it was getting increasingly harder.

“He got shot out of a train. I-I couldn't grab him in time and he fell.” Steve stuttered as he explained, telling it just made it feel more real. Scarlier.

“It’s not your fault.” Y/n reached out to hold Steve’s hands tightly, trying to comfort him. Knowing Steve he was taking all the blame for Bucky being hurt.

“It feels like it.” Steve dropped into a nearby chair, putting his head into his hands.

Y/n sat beside him worried for Bucky as well, but also staying strong for Steve.

^    ^    ^

“Y/n?” Bucky said in a rough voice but loud enough for her to hear.

“Right here Bucky.” Y/n spoke up scooting closer to his bed. Bucky had been out of it for a couple days. They had transferred him to a hospital in the city back in brooklyn the morning after they got back to base. Y/n hadn’t left his side since.

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky asked, turning his head to look at his wife.

“He’s right outside.” She told him lifting his hand to her lips.

“He’s blaming himself isn’t he?” Bucky grimaced, feeling more pain the more he woke up.

“Yeah.” Y/n nodded sadly knowing Bucky doesn’t even blame him for what happened. But Steve doesn’t want to believe it.

“What do you remember?” Y/n questioned him, secretly hoping he didn’t remember to much of the traumatic accident.

“I remember being shot at and hanging off the side of the train. Then nothing.” He told her with a shake of his head and watery eyes.

Y/n explained to him what  Steve had to her in the last couple days of what exactly happened. There were lots of tears shed. Y/n had Steve come in when Bucky was ready. The two talked and Bucky tried to assure Steve there was nothing he could have done.

Bucky had to say in the hospital for a couple weeks but once he left Bucky and Y/n had gotten a call from Howard to come to his lab. So the couple headed to Stark’s  lab to find out that Howard had been hard at work making a bunch of different prosthetic arms for Bucky that were incredibly advanced. He wanted Bucky to be able to have finger control, and to possibly have feeling from the arm, so he could feel hot and cold and touch almost as if it had nerves.

“How’s it feel?” Howard asks, biting his thumb anxiously.

“Good. I can feel heat, cold, touch, just like you said.” Bucky nodded honestly, he was really impressed and immensely grateful. Grateful for everyone's support, and all their hard work to help him.

“Great! That was the goal.” Howard clapped with a huge smile. He felt relieved it had taken a lot of tries and hours to work it all out. But he wanted to give Bucky so normalcy back.

Howard walked away to give Bucky a moment.

Y/n walked closer to Bucky. “You okay?”

Y/n noticed Bucky’s demeanor had dropped once Howard walked away.

“Hmmmhmm.” He hummed not looking at her but at the metal arm now attached to him.

“Bucky I don’t want to push but you have to talk to me.” Y/n pleaded talking lowly so no one would hear her.

“Its not the same.” Bucky mumbled, sadness evident in his voice. He honestly didn’t expect it to be like his real arm, but still it was odd to feel things but feel them in a new way.

“It’ll never be the same. But at least it’s something and Howard is doing everything possible for it to be as much like your real arm as it possibly can be.” Y/n felt bad for him but knew he didn’t need pity. He needed support and someone to tell him the truth in a kind way.

“I know.” Bucky nodded knowing she was right. The arm was made out of the same metal as Steve’s shield, and it had a lot of features that wouldn’t be around for many many decades.

“I still love you. Arm or not my love for you will never change.” Y/n smiled, leaning up to kiss his lips lovingly, hoping to ease some of his insecurities that he is not used to having.

“I love you too. Thank you for sticking with me.” Bucky smiled at her, grateful to have her with him. Staying by his side through everything.

“Always.” Y/n promised. Nothing would separate them. Nothing.

Taglist:

@gruffle1 @padawancat97 @starkleila

[nessieart]

The Way Back. X

wc: 8.2k

Summary: These powers were meant to help people. Help The Avengers, your family. It felt like every time you used them, something bad always happened. Maybe someone has the answers, somewhere.

Bucky x reader || Steve x reader (eventually??)

AN: It's a long one! i didn't want to break this one up. and im sorry in advance.

Masterlist

Previously:

Bucky hesitates for another minute until he slowly climbs into the bed. You give him a reassuring look when he pulls the covers back up.

"I'll be awake for a while, so you can get some sleep, OK?" The only light on in the room is your dim side table lamp. Bucky's face is illuminated in a soft glow as he looks at you. "What?" You chuckle nervously.

His eyes bounce between yours before he scoots closer, leaning in to place a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek. He smiles at you and lies down, one arm over your legs as he brings his pillow to your lap. You run your fingers through his short, damp hair, and before you could tell him goodnight, he was limp with sleep, and light snores could be heard from his lips.

The next morning, you're awake before Bucky, which is surprising. You usually love sleeping in or longer than Peggy would like you to.

As if he can sense your eyes on him, Bucky peaks an eye open. He hums, wrapping his arms tighter around you. His voice is rough with sleep. He nuzzles into your hair, inhaling deeply.

"James, I have to be in soon," you speak against his skin, but you make no move to leave his arms or the bed.

"Just a few more minutes," he sighs.

**

You're dressed in record time, just as Peggy knocks on your door.

"Darling," she calls through the door, "are you both decent?"

"Yeah, Peg! Be out in just a minute!" You squeal as Bucky wraps his arms around you and drags you back onto the bed on his lap. "Bucky!" You laugh.

He hums again, "Thank you. For last night. I don't think I've ever slept so good." You twist in his arms, pecking him on the lips and drape your arms over his shoulders.

"Anytime, Sarge. You're safe with me. Remember that." Your fingers drag along the hair at the nape of his neck. Bucky lets out a satisfied sigh. He kisses you then, hands gripping a little tighter to keep you on his lap. He tilts his head to deepen the kiss, and your fingers scrap against the back of his neck. He moans softly, and you swallow it, licking into his mouth.

There's another knock at the door, impatient and fast, "Charlotte!"

You pull away from Bucky. He whines when he can't follow your lips. You're both panting, and you smile at him. As you extract yourself from his arms, you peck him on the cheek, "See you later, Sarge."

**

You and Peggy arrive early - despite your…slow start to the morning. You brought a thermos of coffee for you and Howard. You could almost hear his joyous thanks in your head. Peggy walks beside you as you try to find Steve.

When you round a corner, you see Spinner at a desk, glasses low on his nose as he takes notes from an open book.

"Rupert," you greet. He looks up, wide-eyed at you and Peggy. He pushes his glasses up his nose and swallows hard.

"M-morning, Ms. Charlotte, Agent Carter."

"We're looking for Captain Rogers, Agent Spinner. Have you seen him?" Peggy asks. He nods frantically, finger pointing through the makeshift library.

"He's so skittish, isn't he?" Peggy whispers as the two of you continue on. You laugh. Oh, if she only knew.

After the next set of bookshelves, you see Steve. But he's not alone. And Peggy goes rigid beside you. You could feel her silent anger but also her pain. You're not sure why it bothers you so much, seeing Steve kiss some random girl. It's not like you're with him or anything.

Maybe because you've known him for so long, he never seemed interested in anyone. Not the girls from SHIELD or the barista down the street. Or the ones Natasha tried to set him up with. There's a twinge of jealousy that runs through your veins seeing him like this. Future him being in love with you doesn't make much sense now, with his tongue down some random SSR woman's throat makes you want to throw up.

It hurts.

"I think we found him," you say flatly, just loud enough for the couple to hear you.

Steve all but shoves the woman away. She's a little dazed, but she notices you and Peggy, "I'm sure there's something else for you to be doing, Agent?" Maybe it comes out more harshly than you meant, but no one says anything.

The blonde ducks her head, and she scurries away.

You're starring daggers at Steve. He gulps, face bright red as she looks at Peggy.

"Captain. We're ready for you…if you're not otherwise occupied." Peggy turns abruptly and stalks away. her high heels click loudly as she leaves.

"Agent Carter, wait!" Steve goes to move after her, but you step in his way. "Charlie," he warns deep and low.

"Steven Grant Rogers, you ass," you grit out, you stop his advance with a hand to his chest. He tries to move you. He should be able to throw you across the room easily, but you don't budge. Your face burns the longer he looks down at you.

He places his hand over yours on his chest. Something only Bucky has ever done, his thumb strokes over your knuckles.

"Charlie, please," he pleads softly. You look away from him and pull your hand away. Steve catches up with Peggy quickly, and you follow behind, dragging your feet.

You can hear them as you follow, hand shoved into a pocket, your other squeezing the thermos a little too tight. Seeing Steve kiss someone else shouldn't make you feel the way you do. There's a tightness in your chest, a twinge of anger under the surface. There's a scowl on your face as you all near the end of the hall, big metal doors stand between you and the lab.

"You wanted to be a soldier. Now you are one. Just like all the rest."

Steve's face becomes flustered. He takes Peggy's hand, but she yanks it away. "Well, what about you and Stark? How do I know that you two haven't been…fondueing the whole time? You're staying in his penthouse, ain't ya?" You can tell he regrets it as soon as the words leave his mouth, but he kept going.

"Steven!"

"You still don't understand a bloody thing about women," Peggy turns on her hell and storms back down the corridor.

Steve's shoulders slump, the door opens, and you push past Steve. Howard wraps his arm around your shoulders, "Fondue's just cheese and bread, my friend," Howard steers you further into the lab. "And it sounds like she thinks you've got more going for you than that." Howard releases your shoulders as you pass a motorcycle. You kneel down and pull your toolbox closer.

You work on auto pilot as you listen to Howard and Steve. Howard explains some of the things he's been busy working on.

Gear, weapons, clothes. You peak over the motorcycle to see what they're talking about. The table is filled with shield prototypes. Steve's old shield sits battered and riddled with bullet holes. He runs his hand over it.

Howard continues on, or he tries to explain the intricacies of the shields he's been working on.

"What about this one?" Steve bends to grab something, ignoring Howard completely.

"Uh, well. that's just a pro-"

"What's it made out of?"

"Vibranium," you speak up. "It's stronger than steel and a third of the weight." Steve whirls the shield around. Your chest feels tight again. You haven't seen him hold that in a very long time.

Your tools clang back in the toolbox, the noise echoing in the room. Some people stop and stare at you.

"I'll be back," you mutter as you pass Howard.

"Charlie?"

"It's fine, Howie," you dodge him and head out of the bunker. You just need some air. Everything was closing in, too hot, too fast. Before you could reach the stairs, you stop when someone calls out to you.

"Stark!" Phillips says. You can hear his smirk. "My office." He leads little room for opposition, and you heave a heavy sigh. Hand gripping the railing a little too tight. You groan and follow him.

He closes the door behind you, Spinner is already seated when you enter. He gives you a small wave. Phillips sits at his desk. The two of them wait for you to sit, but you hover by the door.

Frustration and anxiety thrum in your veins, not being able to take the walk you needed to clear your head. Your chest heats up as you feel your powers surge. Your hands alight in a blue flame, and you let out an aggravated scream, throwing your arm back and punching the concrete wall next to you.

Your chest heaves, powers subsiding. The room is heavy with baited breath, silent and thick with tension. The concrete cracks outward from the impact of your fist. Small chunks crumble to the floor as you retract your hand back. There's a fist sized indent in the wall.

You inhale a deep, calming breath, shoulders relaxing. You crack the knuckles on your hand, roll your wrist around, and take a seat next to Spinner. The two men don't move, their eyes wide and unsure.

You cross your leg over the other, "You wanted to see me, sir?" You ask casually, as if nothing happened.

Phillips clears his throat, straightening a little more in his chair. He doesn't make eye contact with you as he shuffles through papers on his desk. Maybe just to keep his hands busy.

You glance at Spinner. He sits ridged in his chair, a sheen of sweat on his brow. Did neither men know you could do that? It brings a smug smile to your face at the thought. Maybe you had more say in this whole mess than you thought.

"I burned them," Rupert mutters out quietly. When you raise an eyebrow at him, he continues, "The negatives as well." He can't meet your eye either. You give him a nod of understanding when he quickly glances up in your direction.

Phillips grunts, opening a file and sliding it towards you. You grab it and bring it closer.

There's instructions on the things you'll need for your mission, weapons, and gear - just in case. The information they hope to extract from the bases they are sending you to.

"Earliest convenience," Phillips grunts out. You smirk at him. He heaves a heavy sigh and rolls his eyes. "alright, dismissed," he waves his hand in the air as you rise from your chair. "And no more punching walls, Agent. Especially not in my office," you laugh as you go to leave.

"No promises, Colonel," you call over your shoulder.

**

Over the course of the next few months, the war continues. Captain America and his Howling Commandos have taken out Hydra base after base.

In the background, you've been going ahead of them and infiltrating the bases for secret files. Any secret that Schmidt thinks he can hide, you've been uncovering and bringing back to the SSR.

Sometimes, after finishing your mission, you'd wait in the shadows just to make sure Steve and Bucky would be alright. And every time you thought to interfere, they would pull through. Bucky was an incredible sniper. You had no doubts they would all be ok.

But still, you always hung back and watched. Just in case.

Christmas and New Years came and went. Celebrating with your found family and friends. You bought Howard a new camera. He couldn't seem to put it down - much to everyone's discomfort.

You and Bucky had become closer, much to Howard's discomfort. He always seemed to grumble about how the two of you were always attached at the hop. Which, to be fair, you were.

A few of the Howlies were loading up a truck, getting ready to move out to the next base location. You had gathered more intel about hidden bunkers and testing facilities on your last mission.

You stand off to the side, eyeing the motorcycle you've spent the last month fine-tuning. "Don't go blowing up my hard work, got it, Cap?" You cross your arms as he peers up at you. An amused smile on his lips. "I mean it!" You all but whine.

Steve laughs and stands tall, hands going to his belt. His default Captain America pose, you tell yourself. His shield is strapped to his back, scorch and bullet marks chip the paint away, but the Vibranium underneath is unharmed.

"Alright, alright," he raises his hands, still chuckling when you give him a look. There's a flash and click of a camera to your right, and you whirl around to Howard.

"Howie! What'd I say about pictures!" You try and scramble after him, but an arm catches you around the waist. The familiar gruff of Bucky's laugh reaches your ears. "James, you let me go before I throttle you!" That just makes him laugh more.

Steve leans back on his bike, arms crossing over his chest. There's a fond smile on his face as you and Bucky bicker back and forth, Howard laughs and still takes pictures.

Peggy sidles up next to Steve, the same fond smile on her face. "They're very good together, don't you think?" She asks softly.

Steve hums, "I'm just glad Charlie brought Bucky back to himself. After what happened…" he trails off, eyes skating down to Peggy, who nods, and then back up to you in Bucky's arms. There's bright smiles tugged on both your faces. Eyes crinkling at the corners. He can see how much Bucky cares for you in that look.

There's a pang that runs through him, but he's so used to it now that he just buries it further down. Deep within himself so no one else can see it.

Peggy stands just close enough to him that her elbow almost touches him. He can feel the heat of her body, smell her sweet perfume. The lingering scent of hotel soap on her skin. If he really concentrates, he can hear her heartbeat. The inhale and exhale of her breathing.

But then he can also hear Bucky, his soft murmuring into your skin, the breathy giggle you let out when he kisses right below your ear.

Steve clears his throat, shifting his stance as he looks away from both of you.

There's another click of the camera, a moment caught in time; forever.

Bucky and you smiling at each other, your hand on his chest, his hand over yours. It looks like you're trying to push him away, but his other arm is wrapped around your waist. Steve and Peggy behind you. She's looking at Steve with a soft expression, and Steve's looking at you.

**

The year goes by fast, and the constant moving of Captain America and the Howling Commandos around Europe leaves you stuck in London with Howard, Peggy, and the rest of the SSR. You get restless while you wait for word from the front, waiting on bated breath for letters from Bucky.

It wouldn't be a problem if they knew about your powers. You could just portal to them, and the anxiety would be over.

The only times you got glimpses of Steve or Bucky is when you wait, hidden in the shadows after one of your reckon missions.

"Will you relax, kid?" Howard says next to you. You grumble under your breath. "They'll be fine. We made all their gear and equipment, right?" He nudges your shoulder with his, pulling a smile from you.

"I know. It's been almost four months since they've been back. I miss them," you whine a little. Howard shifts, resting his hip on the table. He leans on one hand to brace himself up.

"Y'know, I hired that film crew for more than historical documentation," his eyebrows raise when you give him a look. Your lips twitch up, and Howard's smile matches yours. "I know you love him, Y/N," he says quietly. "You should tell him when he comes back."

Howard takes your hand in his and squeezing, "It's complicated, Howie. It's not -"

"-Not that simple," he continues, "yeah, I've heard that before."

You laugh, "Well, at least it's a slow day," you sigh.

"Stark!" Phillips yells from down the hall.

Howard and you groan, "You just had to say it, didn't'cha?"

**

2018, Somewhere in Space

Tony finishes his recording for Pepper. Just in case one day, the ship makes it back to Earth. Someone in the vast, now half empty universe is bound to pick up the distress call. Somehow. He sighs heavily. It hurts to breathe too deep, think too loud. Think about the people he's lost on Titan. Tony's trying desperately not to think about the people he cares about on Earth, hoping they're all ok.

"Come on, old man, you need to rest," Nebula grunts. She tries to haul Tony up, but he just waves her off with a lift of his fingers. That's all he can muster now.

Tony's too tired - hunger left him a few days ago - too thirsty to function. Maybe he can just rest his eyes for a minute. It takes too much energy to keep them open.

Just for a minute.

He's really fine. Don't worry about it.

Totally… a-ok.

It's fine.

There's a bright, warm light that reaches Tony's closed lids. It's familiar. Almost like the sun. His eyes blink open, squinting at the brightness. It's blinding and beautiful.

Through the spaces between his fingers, he sees it, a gasp leaves his dried and cracked lips.

"…Y/N?…"

**

Tony is surprised to see Steve, something like relief flooding through his veins, he sags as Steve holds him up. His breathing is shallow but heavy. Being back on Earth and actually breathing oxygen and not sparingly through filters makes his head dizzy.

Steve held out hope to see you come down the gangway of the spaceship behind Tony and Rocket's blue friend. He keeps looking over his shoulder as he helps keep Tony upright.

But, if you were in there, you would have portalled everyone back to Earth. Unless you were seriously injured. Or…

No, he won't think like that. Not until he hears otherwise.

"Hang on," Tony heaves out, "Wait. I-I lost the kid. I-"

"Tony, we lost," Steve's brows furrow. Lost everything, the fight, their friends. Bucky.

Tony can't hold back the tears now. His breathing is hoarse as he tries to keep in a sob. "She's gone -" he chokes out, "She- Y/N sacrificed herself - and for what? I couldn't - She -" Pepper runs up then. The tears break and stream down his face, and he and Pepper embrace. "She's gone," Tony keeps repeating.

Steve thinks he's not breathing. Maybe he hasn't been since Thanos 3 weeks ago. Maybe he died, and this is his nightmare, his Hell. Cursed to be in a world without you in it.

**

1944, 13 days before Christmas Eve.

It seems you'll never get that damn motorcycle back from Steve, so you've been tinkering with a new one. Using the last of the Tesseract infused bullets Howard had locked away. No one was here this late anyway.

You can feel the pulse of the tiny core in your pocket, the thin glass jar does little to protect it from you.

The bike is suspended above you. You're on a floor roller, the engine open, and parts scattered around you. You're sure it'll work just fine. Fore you, anyway. The tiny blue bead drops into your hand, and it pulses along with the beat of your heart. Carefully, you place it in the chamber in the engine you made. It whirs silently, then hums low. you pull your away slowly, waiting on bated breath for something to happen.

When all seems ok, you put the engine back together. All the parts going back where they started. The fuel tank is empty , you point a finger inside, powers surging through your hand and out your finger and into the tank.

You squint through the tinted goggles on your face, careful not to put too much force behind your powers. Just enough to jump-start the motorbike. You stop after a moment, exhaling a deep breath as your powers subside. You place the cap back on the fuel tank. The bike hums softly.

When you place your hand on the throttle, you ease it slowly. Twisting ever-so-slightly. It turns, the engine humming to life. It doesn't sound like a normal motorcycle, but that's what you were aiming for. Probably.

You let out a triumphant laugh. You did it. Everything seems stable. Small puffs of blue mist come from the exhaust. Residual energy from your powers, you assume.

Howard finds you like that in the morning, elbow deep in another project. You're humming a song you forgot the name of long ago, your foot taps absentmindedly out the beat.

"Have you even gone to bed?" Howard leans his back next to you. Hands stuffed into his pant pockets.

"Nope," you pop the P. "Can't. They'll be back soon."

"Y/N," he chides quietly. "You should get some sleep."

"You're one to talk," you grumble. "Ow!" You nick your finger on something sharp you can't see.

"Here," Howard takes your hand and examines it, his calloused fingers rubbing over your palm, straightening out your fingers. "Eh, doesn't look too bad, kid." He squeezes your hand between his. "Please get some rest. For me," he pleads. He gives you his best puppy eyes. Eyebrows puckered in the middle, there's a pout to his lips.

Your eyes drift to the cough in the far corner. There's a warm wool blanket draped over the back. You feel your shoulders sag just looking at it.

"I'll wake you in a few house. Tops," Howard says. You him in annoyance and drag your feet over to the couch and plop down. "That's my girl," he calls from across the room. You just lift your hand in the air in response.

You're roused from sleep slowly, a dip in the sofa by your hip, a soft brush of fingers over your hair. A rumble of a voice calling to you.

"Charlotte," it rumbles again, the hand runs down your back, rubbing soothing circles. You stir slightly, a grumble leaving your lips.

"5 minutes," you sigh.

"Charlie, get your ass off my couch!" Howard yells. You grunt in response. There's a familiar laugh next to you. Your heart skips a beat, leaping up into your throat.

You twist on the couch, the blanket wrapped around your legs as you try to sit up. You grin wide as your eyes land on Bucky.

"You're back!" You throw yourself at him, arms going around his neck as his wrap around you. "I missed you so mcuh, James," you mumble into his neck. It feels like you can breathe again for the first time in a while.

Bucky squeezes you tighter, "Hi, sweetheart," he says softly, his lips ghosting over your cheek.

"I thought you weren't getting in until tomorrow?" You don't want to let him go, you want to latch on to him and never let go. Your eyes shoot open, and you pull away from Bucky, eyes critical as they sweep over his features.

"How long was I asleep? Is it tomorrow?" Your head whips to look at Howard. He's smirking. "Howie!"

"You needed the sleep," he shrugs. You scrub a hand down your ace.

"I need coffee," you go to get off the couch, but Bucky pulls you into another hug. You laugh and pull away just enough to put your hands on his face. He smiles down at you, and you peck quick kisses on the spots you can reach. Bucky laughs in return, eyes squeezing shut when your lips pass over his lids.

"Are we goin' out tonight?" You ask, just loud enough for Howard to hear too.

"Anything you want, sweetheart," Bucky grins.

Howard groans, "As long as you're outta my lab. You two make me wanna stuff cotton in my ears. We'll go out, sure, but I need help with a few things first." You agree, telling Bucky you'll see him later, he leaves with a kiss to your forehead, and Howard rolls his eyes.

**

"I'm going back to the hotel to clean up. You should do the same," you call out as you leave the lab.

"Yeah, yeah," Howard's muffled voice responds.

You stepped out of the shower feeling rejuvenated. Sleeping on a stuff couch for a few hours and working nonstop for almost a full day wore you out more than you cared to admit. You push the door open to the common room, expecting to see Bucky waiting, but that's not Bucky.

"St-Steve?" Your face heats up the longer you two stare at each other. You see him visibly gulp, you pull your bathrobe tighter around your body.

"Ch-Charlie…" Red creeps up his chest and neck, taking over his face and ears.

You're standing in the middle of the room in nothing but a small bathrobe, water dripping off your hair, and your skin is still flushed from the hot shower. You might be getting lightheaded.

"where….?"

"The front desk," Steve says louder than he means to, he turns on his heel to face away from you. Back rigid and hands clenched tight at his sides. You nod, thought he can't see you.

"It's good to see you, Charlie," he says quieter. He turns his head slightly, eyes barely peaking back at you over his shoulder.

Your heart rate kicks up a beat, and you clutch the bathrobe tighter, making sure it's tied around your waist. The room is quiet. You know he can hear your heart from across the room. You shift on your feet, face heating up again. Steve's head tilts more so he can see you better out the corner of his eye.

"I-" the suite door rattles, and you squeak, shuffling back into your room. The door closes just as the main suite door opens. You can hear Bucky greet Steve and vise versa.

You heave a sigh, willing your heart to calm. You quickly dress, towel drying most of your hair, you'll deal with it later, and just braid it to the side. You emerge from your room 10 minutes later, Bucky and Steve sit on the couch together. Each on opposite ends, leaving the space between them open.

Steve has a full glass of dark liquor in his hand, Bucky's is nearly empty.

"Boys," you greet them. This time you wear a pinstripe suit. Black turtleneck and high heels. The pants are waste high, and the legs are wide. The belt around your waist is blue to match the gem in your bracelet and the one in your chest. You toss the pinstripe jacket over your shoulder, cocking your hip out as their eyes drift to you.

Bucky whistles low, "Damn, sweetheart," he gulps down the rest of his drink and pats the seat in the middle of the couch. "You always know how to out dress everyone." He crosses his leg over the other, ankle resting casually on his knee. He drapes an arm over the back of the couch as he eyes you.

Steve sits with his legs spread wide, an arm draped over the back of the couch, too. His fingers almost graze against Bucky's. His stare is heated, a smirk pulls at one side of his face, and he brings his glass to his lips. "Good to see you, Charlie," he greets you again.

You swallow and make your way over to the couch, "Hi, Steve," you toss your jacket onto the love seat before you go to sit.

Bucky jumps up before you can sit, claiming he has to get you a drink. You shake your head at him as he crosses the room to the car cart. You can feel the heat of Steve's body at your back as he silently stands behind you. He leans in close, a hand on your waist and his other holding his drink in front of you.

"Charlie can have mine, Buck," he rumbles. His voice vibrates through you with how close his chest is to your back. "Here," he says in your ear. Your fingers shake as you go to take the glass from him, his fingers skim down your arm as you grip the cool glass in your hand.

"Aren't ya thirsty, sweetheart?" Bucky asks. He's suddenly in front of you. The heat of the two of them around you is overwhelming. Steve's fingers on your hip grip you tighter as Bucky tips your glass to your lips.

You keep eye contact with him as you gulp a mouthful of whiskey down. Somehow, the burn of the liquor isn't nearly as bad as the two of them surrounding you make you feel.

"Better?" he asks. You nod slowly. The air is thick between you, your head a little fuzzy with Bucky and Steve so close. Bucky tips the glass to your lips again, and you take a slow pull this time.

When you swallow, you feel Steve's lips close to your ear. "Words, doll," he says. Bucky's eyes flick to his then back to you, "Finish her drink, Buck." Bucky does without hesitation, gulping down the last few mouthfuls of whiskey as if it were water.

"Yes," you whisper out. Steve's hand wipes the whiskey drops from Bucky's lip, then dip in his mouth. Bucky's tongue laps at Steve's thumb. And you think out might pass out. You whimper without meaning for the sound to leave your throat. Both men chuckle.

"Think she forgot we're such good friends, Stevie?"

"Steve?" "Stevie?"

Steve shakes his head, eyes refocusing in the room. "What?" You were standing near the far end of the couch with Bucky. You both give him a concerned look.

Steve clears his throat. He feels his face heat up, "Sorry, must have zoned out. What were you sayin'?"

"Said we're ready to go, punk. C'mon," Bucky throws an arm around your shoulders and starts to steer you towards the exit.

Steve lets out a big shuddering breath, still trying to get the image of you between him and Bucky out of his mind before he stands and catches up with you both.

**

"Ms. Charlotte?" You hear Rupert call from the lab entrance. "Are you in here?"

"Be right there, Rupert," you call. You finish your thoughts in your journal and stash it away in Howard's desk drawer. You grab your gear before you leave, "Ok, Rue, lead the way."

To say you were a little excited to finally be going on a mission with your friends was an understatement. You were over the moon.

You see Howard standing near where people are packing up one of the convoy trucks. He's waving his arms about, yelling about what crate goes where.

"Howie," you chide, he stops his arm waving to wrap one around your shoulder.s "Leave them be. They know what they're doing." Howard grunts but relents and steers you towards Steve, Bucky, and the Howlies.

"I don't know how I feel about you actually going through with this. Skulking around in the shadows is one thing. But this…" Howard mumbles to you.

"Everything's gonna be fine, Howie. They're finally gonna see what I can do." You smile at him, and he tries to return it. He knows how much this means to you. But it doesn't mean he has to like it.

"I like the suit you made for me," you tack on, Howard gives you a smirk and chuckles.

"Ok, kid, you're welcome."

"Here, wait," you tug him to a stop and take his camera from him. You hold the camera high in the air, wrap your arm around Howard's waist.

"What are you doin'?" he huffs. He tries to take it back from you, and as he's distracted, you kiss his cheek, snapping the photo as he protests. You laugh and hand it back to him.

Before you leave, you make sure to give Howard a hug, the smile never leaving your face. "Love you, Howie. I'll be back before you know it!"

Howard hums, his arms squeeze you a little tighter, "Yeah, yeah. You better go before they leave without you. And then I'd never hear the end of it," he smirks.

As he watches you board the back of the convoy truck, he raises his hand as you wave before the canvas closes and blocks you from view.

"Love you too, kid."

**

You were 5 miles from the next Hydra base, or so the map and intel had given you.

"We'll split in 2 groups," Steve started, running his fingers over the map. "Group A heads north of the complex, set the charges and fall back. Radio in when you're far enough away. Meet at the rendezvous here," he passes his fingers over another spot on the map and taps it.

"Group B, you're with me. We set charges on the south side, get in, and grab the things we need. Take out any hostile force we see.

"We'll have sniper cover as long as Buck can see us." Steve nods to Bucky, who nods in return.

"We've done this plenty of times before. A quick in, out, destroy. Let's show these Nazi bastard's what we're made of."

There's thunderous cheers as the Howlies break the huddle. They disperse and gather their equipment.

"Charlie, you sta -" Steve starts.

"Cap, if you tell me to stay here, I'll shoot you in the foot. I'm going with you."

Steve purses his lips, hands on his hips. He shakes his head, trying to disagree with you.

"You're not gonna win that one, pal," Bucky speaks up. You flash him a grin, and Steve sighs.

"You'd think you'd know me by now, Tough Guy," you playfully punch his arm.

**

You're about to split into your groups, just as dusk falls. Bucky gets up on a rock, taking the vantage point he needs to see the complex from. His rifle is already set up.

"Starkling, we're headed out," Dugan calls to you.

"Comin'!" You turn to Bucky. He looks up at you from his seated position. You step into Bucky's space, standing between his legs.

"Somethin' I can help you with, sweetheart?" Bucky smirks up at you, a hand skating up your leg to rest on your hip.

You run your fingers over his cheek, "I love you, James." It flows easily from your lips. You're not sure why you waited so long to say it. But now that you have, you don't want to stop. "I love you," you smile at him. You can feel the heat rise to his face under your hand.

Bucky's lips part, eyebrows pucker in the middle, and his eyes gloss over with tears. He's up in a flash, lifting you up as he rises to his feet. A laugh bubbles up from your chest. He kisses you then, sweetly. He's grinning wide against your lips.

"Charlotte Stark, I love you." He says against your lips. The smile on your face falters slightly. You're happy he said it, but a small part of you wishes he said your real name instead.

You take your bracelet off and place it in his hand, "Here, keep it." You peck him on the lips as you go to pull away. He stops you, pulling your hand back onto his chest.

"You mean the world to me, sweetheart. I hope you know that."

You smile up at him, "I know, James." When he lets your hand go, you step away and go to catch up with your group down the hillside.

**

"Charges set, Cap," you tell him. He nods and leads your group to the side entrance of the complex. There are far fewer Hydra soldiers guarding this facility than the others you've all encountered.

Steve tilts his head, eyebrows low under his helmet. He holds a hand up to tell your group to stop. Something doesn't feel right.

"Head back to the rendezvous point," Steve says low enough for everyone to hear. They nod and slink away. "You too, Charlie."

"Not gonna happen, Cap. Can't leave my partner alone on this one," You tap his shield, and he huffs but nods at you.

After silently making your way through the compound, you and Steve come upon a room filled with heavy weapons; machine guns, body armor, and grenade launchers. Some form of hand help canons.

"We found it," Steve breaths, a smile tugging his lips. He looks at you.

"Something doesn't feel right," you glance around. It's too quiet. "Where are all the guards?"

"We get what we came for and blow it all to hell. Let's go," Steve draws out his shield, securing it tightly on his arm as he leads you through a long corridor with a few closed doors.

"Check the rooms on the left, meet back here in 5," Steve waves a hand, and you both split up.

You find what you're looking for in the second room. Filing cabinets filled with the heavy weapons schematics Phillips and Spinner wanted. Right where Spinner said they would be.

Your fingers graze the files, and stop. You get that feeling again, a tug in your chest. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end.

As you enter the hallway, Steve is also standing there. He looks back at you with his typical Captain America look. Mouth in a grim line as he makes eye contact with you.

The lights go out.

"Cap…" you hedge closer, the urge to use your powers flare up your spine. You swallow it down.

"Let's go," he commands. All thought of getting any more intel from this facility goes out the window as you two jog towards the exit.

As you enter the main room with the weapons, a single light turns on overhead.

"Not so fast, Captain," the man says. He holds up one of the weapons from a crate. It's large. It looks like a rail gun attached to a backpack that glows an eerie blue.

This weapon is different from the others. Powered by the Tesseract, yes, but also something else. You can hear the weapon power up. The quiet hum and whirring echoed around the room.

The man steps forward, his face illuminated by the overhead light.

"Rupert?" Your stunned surprise makes him laugh. It crawls down your spin and sits in your stomach like a rock. You feel sick.

Steve angles his body in front of yours, shield raised high and defensive.

"What do you want?" Steve sticks his arm out in front of you to coral you backward, the both of you step backward together, inching toward the exit.

Rupert follows, his laugh echoes around the room as the rail gun in his arms starts charging.

"Oh, dear Captain…" his glasses flash in the light, and the grin on his face is anything but friendly. "It was never about you." His eyes catch yours, and your heart sinks. "Does your precious Captain know what you can do, love? Does that boyfriend of yours?" He spits. He cackles again, the rail gun in his hands whirs. He lifts it and fires a spray of bright blue bullets across the room.

Steve covers you with his body, shield up, protecting the both of you from harm. "Once it stops firing, make a run for the door," Steve says in your ear. You nod. After a few beats, the bullets finally stop, and the rail gun whirs and slowly stops.

Heavy laughter pierces the air, and you and Steve peak over the shield to see Spinner reloading.

"Run, Charlie," Steve pushes you toward the exit. He follows close behind you, shield coming in front of you to charge through the door.

Bullets rain again as you burst through the doors. They cut easily through the metal and concrete. Piercing through it like paper. You've never been more thankful for Steve's vibranium shield.

"This isn't where we're supposed to meet," you huff. "He forced us away from the others. Bucky," your eyes are wide and fearful.

"It's ok, we'll be fine. C'mon," Steve grabs your hand, and you both try to outrun the spray of bullets.

"If we make it to the rendezvous, we can blow the building. We're almost there, Charlie." The next rain of bullets stop, you tug your hand from Steve's and slump against the wall, heavy huffs of breath in the cold night air.

Steve kneels down next to you, catching his breath for a moment. When he catches your eye, you both nod and start to run again.

"There!" You point as you round the corner. You can see the Howlies at the treeline. On the other side of the iron rot fence.

You hear it before it lands, and earth shattering blast, then a bright blue light lands on the ground separating you and Steve. A giant crater from one of the canons, you assume. You're both knocked far apart, skidding and tumbling on the ground.

"Run all you want," Spinner calls from the roof, there's other men up there with him. Holding the majority of the heavy weapons. "But these bullets were made for you," he taunts again.

There's heavy bullet fire, this time aimed at Steve. He dodges and blocks the hail and runs for cover. The Hydra men keep suppressing fire on Steve and the Howlies. Keeping them away from you.

Spinner climbs down the ladder on the side of the building. He adjusts the rail gun at his side. It clinks with every step he takes.

"Why are you doing this?" You scramble backward as he advances. "Why work for Hydra?"

He laughs, the rail gun whirs to life, heating up as the Tesseract charged ammo glows menacingly. "For the future of humanity, love. And you won't be part of it. To see Hydra's rise to glory."

You glare up at him, your powers flare in your chest, "I'm from the future, you fucking asshole. News flash! You - Hydra, the Nazis - you all lose!" Your hands burst into blue flame and you jump to your feet and lunge towards Spinner.

The rail gun lets out a whine. It fires as he tries to back track away from you. A few bullets wiz past you, the heat of them leaving marks on your exposed skin.

Your fist lands and hits Spinner in his chest. He goes flying back until he hits the wall, hard, crumbling to the ground in a heap. The rail gun whines louder now as you approach. The suppressing fire from the roof slows. You can hear Steve shout for you, but you ignore him.

You're standing over Rupert now, your chest heaves with anger and frustration, your arms fully engulfed in blue flames. "You were my friend," you grit out. Tears of frustration threaten to fill your eyes and spill over. He laughs, blood pouring from a wound on his head, down his forehead. He coughs up blood as he looks up at you, glasses cracked and hanging off his face.

He holds a shaky hand up, your eyes zero in on his finger, and a pull pin dangles from it. Your wide eyes catch his for a second, blood seeping down into his eyes.

"Hail…Hydra," he rasps, his palm opens and out rolls another Tesseract fueled weapon in the form of a grenade.

Your heart plummets to your stomach, and your head whips to Steve, who's running to you with his shield raised to block the remaining gunfire. He catches your eyes.

Time seems to slow as you hold your hand up to stop him. The immediate panic on his features breaks your heart. You open a portal to stop the blast wave of the grenade. Being this close to the complex, if Spinner's grenade explodes, so will the charges your team set. And they are too close to the blase radius. They'll be caught in it, too.

The portal opens and swallows both you and Spinner. There's no end destination in your mind, just far enough away from your friends that they won't be affected.

"Charlie!" Steve shouts. One second, you're in front of him, and the next, a dark cloud engulfs you, and you're gone. Spinner is gone.

The next second, an explosion high in the sky goes off. Blinding blue and illuminating the night sky. It's terrifyingly beautiful.

There's a thud next to him. He jumps in surprise. You're lying there at his feet, scorch marks on your suit, Steve's nose scrunches at the smell. There's puffs of blue smoke coming off your body like steam.

Steve bends down to touch you but retracts his hand. Your skin is like fire. It burns his fingers to touch you.

"Charlie?" his hands hover above you, unsure of how to help.

You gasp for breath, hoarse and rough going in. You can't feel your fingers or toes. It feels fuzzy and static, and you feel weightless and heavy at the same time. It's hard to focus on Steve's face, blood, and tears cloud your vision. You try to smile at him, but you grimace in pain.

"J-just hold on, we'll get you help," Steve looks behind him, at people you can't see. Your fingers brush over his leg, and he jolts. "Charlie…"

"It's…ok…"

Steve tries to scramble towards you, your body slowly dissolving into a foggy dark mist. He's calling for you, but you're already gone. He shouts for Bucky again, his best friend so close, but not close enough. Not in time to call out to you or say he loves you again.

Your eyes flutter closed as the mist takes more of you away. When Bucky skids to a stop next to Steve, falling to his knees, he lets out a broken sound.

"Sweetheart?" Bucky's out of breath. "Charlotte?" His hand comes down to touch you, but it goes through you, your body erupting into a blue mist, and then you're gone.

**

It feels like you're floating. Slowly drifting backward. Maybe landing on the soft grass beneath your feet. Softly, smoothly falling.

There's a streak of blue across the sky. A shooting star illuminated the night sky and plummeting to earth. Hard and fast and unrelenting.

**

Howard bends over, gasping for breath as he clutches his at his chest. It hurts. God, it hurts so much. Is he having a heart attack? He can't breathe. His eyes brim with tears, and they spill over hot down his cheeks. Why is he crying? He gasps again, and the air in his lungs feels like it's burning him from the inside.

"Howard! What's wrong?" Peggy holds him by the arm, trying to get him to sit down. He shakes his head as he stares wide eyed at her.

"I- I don't know," he breathed in deep. The pain is gone, but he has a sinking feeling in his gut that it's only just beginning.

**

"Have you even made new friends in the city?" Green eyes glance sideways towards Steve, a perfect eyebrow raised in question.

Steve huffs, "Who needs friends when I got you, Nat?"

"Smart ass," she chuckles. They sit in companionable silence for a while. It's not often Steve comes out to visit Natasha at the compound. It stirs up bad memories of life before the snap.

"Oh, look," Nat points to the sky, a bright blue light streaks across the sky. It's traveling fast, too fast, he thinks, for a shooting star. A meteor burning up in the Earth's atmosphere. But it seems almost familiar.

"Think it's Carol?" he asks absentmindedly. Natasha hums.

"I talked to her a few days ago. She never mentioned coming back Earth side so soon…" Nat stands, bare feet padding through the grass. Her eyes squint, trying to focus more.

The streak looks like it's picking up speed, it turns midair, changing directions towards the compound.

Steve stands on alert, "It's coming this way," he warns. He grabs Nat by her bicep, pulling her along and far away from the falling star, plummeting towards them.

It's silent in its decent. The only noise to be heard is when it smashes into the ground. The impact of creating a giant 30-foot crater in the ground.

The bright blue light shines in the darkness. Like a small sun, Steve and Nat have to squint and block their eyes as they come closer, peering into the crater.

It hums, pulsing like a heartbeat as they approach cautiously. The light dims as they near.

"What the hell," Nat breaths out. In the center of the crater lies a person. Huddles in a tight ball, arms wrapped around legs. The figure is floating, suspended in the air a few meters above the ground. Hair billowing out in wisps.

It uncurls its body slowly, Steve steps in front of Natasha, arm blocking her advance. Slowly unfolding limbs stretch out, toes flex before they touch the dirt beneath them. The ground pulses at the contact. The light fades and sucks back inward to the figure as it inhales a deep, gasping breath. Chest heaving then relaxing. Another pulse through the ground and then the air around them returns to normal. One foot steps forward, then knees give out, and the figure crumbles to the ground in a heap.

The glow is gone now. The only light left is in the center of its chest. She, from what Nat and Steve could tell. A woman. She rolls over, a soft groan leaving her lips.

Natasha gasps, hand flying to her mouth, "Oh my God," she rushes forward, falling to her knees by the unconscious body. "Steve, your flannel," Nat snaps him out of his thoughts. He shrugs his shirt off and hands it to Natasha.

The woman is naked, hair matted and dirty. It looks like she's been rolling in mud. It's caked on her skin in layers.

"How?" Steve croaks. He swallows around a lump in his throat. He falls to his knees next to Nat. She has tears in her eyes when she looks up at Steve. There's a look on her face that he hasn't seen in years.

"I don't know. But we have to get her inside. Call Bruce and Tony," she smooths hair back from a dirt covered face. "Hang on, Y/N. Help is coming."

**

Next>>

----

tags: @valckenaux

[fandomnerd9602]

Peggy and Y/N walk out to intercept the Scarlet Witch…

Y/N: hey baby

Wanda: do I know you?

Peggy: you didn’t look at the family photos? Wanda, seriously, love.

Wanda’s eyes soften…

Wanda: oh…it’s not fair. Why am I so loved in this universe and not in my own?

Y/N: you can be. I exist there. Just find me and I know I’ll be crazy about you. Also maybe don’t hunt Chavez.

Peggy: seriously that girl is hurting and wanting a family as much as you.

Wanda: I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

The Scarlet Witch leaves Wanda’s body…

Peggy and Y/N catch their Wanda…

Wanda: detkas? How did I get here?

Peggy: we’ll explain over cuddles after we tuck the boys in tonight, love

For @konstantin609

[amphibiahawks321]

[Natasha staring at Y/N and Peggy having a conversation and noticed their height difference]

Natasha : Dang I didn't realise how tall you are compared to Y/N....

Carter : Chuckles i do not care about such exaggerated problem Natasha

Natasha : The name Peggy sounds perfect for you now..... Chuckles cause you probably 'Peggy' Y/N, if you get what I mean~

[Y/N stares at Natasha shocked and blushing while Carter stares at Natasha confused]

Carter : What does that mean?–

M!Reader blushing : Nothing!

[wandanatsub]

You ride, I ride

Captain Carter x Reader

Summary: Peggy comes back from a mission while you're sleeping, so when you wake up with her thigh between yours, you grind on it until she wakes up and fucks you properly.

Tags: thigh riding, strap, needy reader, slight dom!Peggy, slight Captain kink, Peggy calls reader love, emotional reader towards the end, no pronouns used for reader

Words: 2.1k

I apparently can't write anything without penetration, but I love thigh riding, I swear! This story features alternate versions of the original five Avengers but they're not important for the plot sooo single mention of Betty Ross as Hulk, Kate Bishop as Hawkeye, Pepper Potts took over the Iron Man mantel after Tony died, Jane has the power of Thor and Yelena said 'Fuck the Red Room, I saw a cute girl with a stupid bow on a mission, and now I'm gonna join her team!' Even though they are not important to the story of being fucked by Peggy in the middle of the night at all, I have thoughts about them now and they won't leave.

Sleeping anytime, anywhere, was generally considered somewhat of a superpower amongst the Avengers. The team had been through a lot, and all of them were perpetually tired, but actual sleep didn’t come easy to most of them.

Of course, Betty meditated a lot, Kate napped all the time, and Pepper was still working on her late husband’s sleepy time shake recipe, but none of them got much sleep at night. Jane was off-world most of the time, constantly traveling through different star systems, which must’ve fucked up her sleep schedule indefinitely. You were convinced Yelena hadn’t slept more than 3 hours at a time since leaving the Red Room, though you’ve seen her tangled up with Kate on the couch from time to time.

And then there was Peggy. Peggy could fall asleep the instant she sat down. Debriefings, historically, ended with her falling asleep across from her SHIELD handlers or sometimes even Director Hill.

She wasn’t doing it on purpose. If anything, she hated being disrespectful to her coworkers. But Peggy had learned after thousands of missions, to take what she could get. Food, sleep, the occasional romp in a broom closet (the one on the 16th floor of the office building was your personal favorite).

So, whenever she got home from a mission, it was easy for her to crawl into bed and fall asleep instantly. And she always managed not to wake you.

You were somewhat of a super-sleeper yourself. Naps were your easiest event. And once you were under, not many things could wake you. An exhausted super soldier slipping in behind you, big spoon style, wouldn’t change that.

Therefore, falling asleep in an empty bed and waking up to a convincingly Captain Carter-shaped cuddle bear wrapped around you wasn’t out of the norm.

But this time, Peggy had been on mission for over 20 days. It was supposed to be a five-day trip. But five days turned into a week, that into two weeks, and it just kept going. If it got to three, you would go insane.

There hadn’t been much contact for the last few days. Mostly signs of life from Peggy and Kate, reaching Director Hill with a delay of several hours. Not very trustworthy. But you knew Peggy could handle herself, and she would be home as soon as she could.

Back at home, you were growing more unstable by the day. You hated sleeping alone. The bed took too long to warm up without your human weighted blanket, whose hands tended to roam freely while still awake.

You hadn’t felt those hands in 20 days. 20 whole days. You weren’t built to withstand such torture. You’d be the worst pick for an undercover op in a convent.

It had been 7 years since you had that bad a dry spell. Peggy spoiled you, always ready to fuck you whenever you so much as looked at her too long. That super-human sex drive did help.

It had been 20 days though, and your body loathed to let it get to 21.

When Peggy came back at 3 am that following night, you were asleep and didn’t wake up when she climbed into your side of the bed. The longer the mission, the higher the chance she would find you sleeping on her pillow and her side of the bed. It was adorable.

That time she found you with her pillow between your legs was different though. Making her grit her teeth with barely restrained hunger instead of a smile.

Tonight, Peggy was ready to fall asleep as soon as your warmth permeated her shirt.

-----

The pale light of the moon permeated the room and your eyes were blinking like crazy to adjust to it. You didn’t usually wake up in the middle of the night, but you hadn’t slept well in the last few days. Hands reached up to rub your eyes, though only one found its mark. Your other arm was feeling heavy.

You blinked until the calm look on your wife’s face came into focus.

An involuntary moan left you immediately.

She was finally home, finally sleeping next to you again, finally in reach to be hugged, caressed, teased.

Your body came alive, your brain registering your limbs and waking up all the nerves in your body. The instant your thighs squeezed together, you registered the strong thigh trapped between them, pulling it into your core.

Gods.

Another moan left your lips. The instant you felt her close, your brain lost all thoughts besides need.

You needed her, in any way, shape, or form.

Heat rushed through your veins, hips rutting on their own accord, clit pulsing from dull stimulation.

Peggy was asleep, but that didn’t matter to you. You couldn’t wait. Your hands quickly pushed your underwear off, throwing it on the ground. You wouldn’t be needing them for a while.

You pushed Peggy onto her back, her only response was soft murmurs. A shiver ran through you. One track mind. One track mind. One track-

“Fuck!” The second your wet core met Peggy’s thigh, you were done for.

Rutting, squeezing, sliding over her thigh, you wouldn’t be stopped now. And neither were the noises coming from deep down your throat.

Then, the body underneath you came alive. You screamed with pleasure as Peggy’s thigh pushed up into you.

 “Couldn’t wait to wake me up, love?” Her hands found your hips and pulled you down, her thigh flexing against your wet cunt.

“Fuck, Peg, missed you so much.” Your brain filled with fog, ecstasy taking over your body. Her fingers found your clit and brushed over it softly.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to call me, love.”

You squirmed against her, hips thrusting out of control. Your brain tried to make sense of her words, the tiny pause between thrusts barely enough to gain any semblance of control.

“Please, fuck me, Captain, missed you so much.”

Peggy's reaction was instant, pulling you down onto her thigh while her fingers brushed your clit.

Your sex-deprived body rushed into a quick orgasm, arching your back while riding Peggy's thigh.

A furious grunt escaped the warm body beneath you and before you could revel in your pleasure, you were on your back underneath Peggy. No pressure between your thighs. Your hands tried to clutch onto her hips, but she pulled out of reach and got off the bed.

Your ensuing whine was loud, probably traveling through the wall to Yelena’s room. Gods, you hoped she wasn’t in there.

Rather than waiting for Peggy to get back to bed, your fingers found your clit. Eyes fell shut in a flash.

Soon after, the bed dipped, and your hand was pulled away. You opened your eyes to see Peggy’s lips closing around your wet fingertips. A deep moan vibrated through her and ignited a fire in your core.

“You know better than to touch what is mine, love.”

Usually, you did, but after twenty days of literally no contact, you couldn’t wait any longer. And Peggy couldn’t either.

She pulled your legs further apart, kneeled between them, and pulled your hips up to meet her strap. She lazily pushed it through your folds, wetting it enough to push inside you.

Finally.

A loud groan filled the room. You weren’t sure whether it came from you or Peggy.

Your legs came up to circle her hips, needing her close. Peggy automatically sank deeper inside you, stretching your walls almost painfully, but you didn’t care. No sense in warming up slowly if Peggy could so easily break you in.

The super-soldier loved to be rough with you, and you loved it just as much. Peggy’s harsh thrusts made pleasure spark outward through your entire nervous system.

Once she was inside to the hilt, her hands found your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip.

“I missed you too, love.”

Your tongue peeked out to catch her thumb. A surprised gasp from Peggy made you grin, but she quickly recovered and fixed you with a dark stare.

She pushed her thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. Relishing in seeing your dilated pupils grow hungry for her, her hips churned to life.

Her thrusts were heavy, hips out of control, barely any rhythm to her movements. Peggy was panting above you, fighting against the grip your walls had on her strap. Your legs wrapped tightly around her hips, making sure she couldn’t pull out as much. You needed her strap deep, Gods, you needed it badly.

Her eyes were fixed on yours, boring deep into your soul. It made you come alive.

Your lips closed around her thumb, craving anything to satisfy your oral fixation. Peggy’s love to fuck your mouth was to blame for that. You loved sucking her fingers or her cock.

Gods, sucking on her cock after she had fucked you with it always riled her up even more, making her fuck your throat without control. You loved gagging on her-

“Stay with me, love. You had three weeks to fantasize. Be with me now.”

Your eyes found hers immediately. Apparently, you had zoned out too much. But Peggy knew how to return you to the present.

“Just like that, my love. Let me see those pretty eyes.”

If you weren’t already flushed all over, your cheeks would’ve lit up instantly. Peggy could be so sweet and romantic.

Suddenly, a different need overcame you. You had missed your wife, and no matter how strong and invincible she might be, you still worried about her when she was away on a mission.

She was finally home, seemingly uninjured, and her body was warm, but still too far away in this position.

You wanted to feel every glorious inch of Margaret Elizabeth Carter so close to you that not even air separated your bodies.

Your hands found her shoulders in a flash and pulled her down for a kiss, needing her close.

The kiss wasn’t frantic or rushed. It was intimate, establishing a deeper connection than even the strap inside your walls could.

Peggy knew you so well, she read your mood and instantly knew what you needed from her.

“I’m right here, love. Not going anywhere. I’m right here with you.”

A deep sigh turned into a sob. Your eyes were squeezed shut, your fingers softly mapping Peggy’s face to assure yourself she was still there.

Her hips had stilled to help calm you down, her body now covering yours completely, your favorite weighted blanket.

Finally, your eyes opened again. Peggy’s face was close enough for you to catch the slight worry in her gaze.

Gods, you loved this woman. All of her super-human strength and endurance was easily surpassed by her capacity for love and empathy.

A smile took over your face and brightened your mood.

She was here. With you. Naked.

Gods, you had missed her. All of her.

You strained up to push your lips against hers. Just a quick peck before your head dropped onto her pillow again.

“Can we pick up where we left off?” A coy smile accompanied your question.

Her hips pulled back, strap barely still inside you.

“Meaning here?” And then she pushed back inside you, slow and steady. “Or here?”

You laughed and pulled her in for another kiss.

“Just fuck me, Captain.”

Peggy immediately picked up her thrusts again, opting to push in deeply rather than quickly. Her harness brushed your clit every time, and your orgasm built up quickly.

“Come for me, my love.” Peggy’s whisper found your ear, her lips ghosting over your neck.

Her deep thrusts tugged on the hot coil in your stomach, every thrust provoking an explosion.

Your brain registered a thousand different sensations: Peggy’s back muscles straining under your entwined ankles, her hot skin brushing over your nipples with every thrust, your fingernails buried into her shoulders, far off from breaking super-human skin.

More importantly, your walls stretched around her strap, your clit pulsed with every thrust, and finally, her teeth sunk into your neck.

Your body snapped up against her, orgasm tightening your muscles. Walls clenched around her strap, but Peggy just kept going.

Your orgasm washed over you, but the sensations kept coming. Peggy was grinding against you, desperately chasing her orgasm, and suddenly nothing was more important than seeing your favorite super-soldier fall apart on top of you.

“Peggy, please, please come inside me. Please, Captain.”

With a final thrust, Peggy collapsed on top of her, full weight resting on you.

When she finally regained control of her body, she pulled you close and rolled over.

Your head came to rest on her chest, arms circling her neck.

Peggy pressed a kiss to your shoulder and pulled the blanket over both of you.

“’m glad you’re home, baby.”

Once your heartbeat had slowed down, fatigue took over your body, and you fell asleep, looking forward to waking up next to your wife again.

It's weird how edits can so easily shift the tone. The emotional end was not planned at all, but it happened once I was typing so it's easier not to fight it I guess. I'm watching Captain America: Brave new World on Wednesday, and that made me think of Betty Ross so that's why she's in here...