#phil coulson x you

[strawwritesfic]

Phil Coulson x Female!Inhuman!SHIELD Agent!Reader: Guard

Summary: Phil doesn’t know where the path you’re on will lead, but he’ll be damned if he lets you walk it alone.

Rating/Tags: T (Post-Season 2 (or maybe during? I can’t remember when half this stuff happened); Phil & May; established Phil/Reader; Reader’s powers are not described; angst; fluff; manslaughter) 

Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Notes: Please keep in mind that I didn’t watch Agents of SHIELD very far into season four (I think...Ghost Rider was there), so it is not likely to be anywhere close to canon compliant.

Guard

Phil Coulson had seen S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters under innumerable moments of distress over his years working there. Certainly sometimes distress could bring out the best in agents, sometimes even the best in humanity. This time, not so much. Although the stressful event itself had concluded hours ago, the entire Hub still rang with the odd silence that had started things off. No one moved except for him, and no one spoke but May beside him:

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

She said this because she believed it. That Phil knew. Normally, he would have listened. He respected May a good deal; she was intelligent, strong, and unafraid of saying what needed to be said. If anyone had a handle on the situation, it was her. 

This, unfortunately, was the one time he had no choice but to ignore her advice.

“You don’t have to stay,” he answered mildly. 

May snorted. “Like hell I don’t have to. You think I’m going to trust Bobbi to watch your back on this one?”

“My back is going to be fine.”

“You say that,” said May, “but I’ll only believe it when I see it.”

“She won’t hurt me.”

May’s eyebrows rose, and for good reason. Two good agents had died that day. Mack would make a full recovery, but only because he was tough. Phil hadn’t been out in the field much before making the decision to go toe to toe with the person who had killed and hurt his team. 

His companion did not bring any of this up, however. She was well aware that Phil already knew. Instead, she simply allowed him to move forward.

“I’ve got the door,” she said, and added, “be careful in there.”

“You know me. Careful is my middle name.”

He watched just long enough to see her roll her eyes, then turned his attention to the task at hand. Said task was opening a door–a solid, latched door keeping danger away from the rest of the team. Phil knew what lay behind it: a shaking, sobbing, unsettled young woman. He knew because there were about two dozen security cameras trained on her at every minute, as well as agents whose only task was to watch the video feeds and make an immediate report if anything inside the room changed. 

He also knew because he knew [F Name] [L Name], perhaps better than he knew anyone else in the entire galaxy.

Already he had put things off too long. With a last steady breath, he pressed his hand to the flat expanse in front of him, approximately where a knob should have been. A line of blue light slid up his palm, then the whole door flashed and dissolved. 

Phil stepped through the space left behind just before the door rematerialized behind him. He was sealed inside with a woman most people were now calling a monster.

You didn’t look like a monster just then. In fact, you didn’t seem as though you noticed Phil was there at all. Your eyes stared unblinkingly at the feet you had pulled up onto the cot. Every few seconds, an agonizingly tremulous breath would shudder out from your lips. Your hair was a mess, your fingernails bloodied, and your cheeks streaked with tears.

Phil cleared his throat. 

You jumped about a foot in the air. When you had composed yourself enough to look over at him, said composure did not last long. Your face crumpled immediately. Despite how quickly you hid it in your knees, he saw your miserable expression.

“[Name],” he said carefully.

A pause. A tremendous sniff. You lifted your head. “D…Director.”

“How are you doing?”

Slowly, your eyes drifted away to stare blankly at your toes. “Does it matter?” you asked hoarsely. “How I am?”

Phil glanced behind himself, as though making sure that May really couldn’t hear him. He knew how she felt about the way things were, and Mack, and Bobbi, and Hunter, and most of the rest. But that wasn’t how he felt. Not even close.

“It matters. Why wouldn’t your feelings matter?” he said

You didn’t reply, at least not right away. With one arm still wrapped around your knees, you pushed fiddled with your tangled mess of hair. “What are you doing here?”

It wasn’t the answer he expected. It wasn’t even an answer, really. Still he would accept it. You could refuse to look at him all you wanted; you could pretend you were angry and that you didn’t want to see him if you wished. Phil didn’t care, so long as you kept talking. Ideally, he would have called Dr. Garner in to get you to talk. Unfortunately, Dr. Garner really wasn’t an option anymore, was he?

“I thought it would be good to have a little chat.” 

Your silence was not exactly an invitation to make himself at home in your cell. All the same, he shrugged and leaned against the wall opposite you. 

“Besides, it’s not the same out there without you,” he said.

Much to Phil’s surprise, you looked surprised. “Don’t say that.”

“Don’t say w–”

“You’re Director. You can’t say things like that about a…about a…”

“About the woman I love?” he suggested.

“About a murderer. I killed those men, Phil. Me. I killed them.” 

Your voice grew quieter and quieter as you went on; your chin sank to your knees. To Phil, the distance between you and him felt endless. All he wanted was to cross that distance, sit down next to you, and make everything okay again. He was S.H.I.E.L.D. director now. Wasn’t he supposed to have that sort of power? 

“You were right to leave me in here,” you whispered.

Phil looked sharply over at you. “Leave you in here?”

“When are they going to kill me?”

“Kill you?”

Apparently, you cared nothing for Phil’s obvious distress. You shook your head dazedly and still refused to look at him. “I killed three people today. I killed Mack.”

“Okay, first things first,” he started, “you didn’t kill Mack. Mack will survive because he’s always prepared. That’s the great thing about Mack. That’s why I sent him with you today. Secondly, why on earth would you think we were about to kill you? Third of all, I did not leave you in here.”

Maybe it wasn’t really fair of him to get so frustrated. You were clearly going through a terrible time. He was well aware that it could not have been easy, coming back to base to turn yourself in after what had happened. Knowing that most, if not all, of your friends were frightened and out for blood couldn’t have helped. Yet to find that you lumped him in with the rest hurt. Perhaps that was obvious enough, because you didn’t answer him this time either. All you did was press yourself into a smaller ball.

Sighing, Phil straightened up. “I should have come sooner,” he confessed. “Daisy thought that, considering the circumstances, you might want a bit of space.”

You made a noise at that, but what the noise meant, Phil had no idea. A few moments of absolute silence followed, then you made the noise again. It went on and on and on, a dejected, bubbling cry that you couldn’t seem to smother this time around. 

He took a hesitant step forward, paused, then decided. Staying on the other side of the room wouldn’t do. Not anymore.

The cot creaked as he settled onto it. Most people who wound up in a S.H.I.E.L.D. holding cell weren’t offered comfortable amenities like real beds or real food or real visitors. If Phil could have offered you any of these, he would have. For the time being, all he could do was offer himself, sitting there and listening to you weep. 

You did not react to his closeness like he had thought you would, not even to shift further away. He did not reach for you, much as he wanted to. He simply waited.

“I-I-I didn’t want this,” you moaned, and whether or not you intended him to, Phil heard. “I didn’t want to be Inhuman. I didn’t mean to be.”

“Everyone knows you didn’t mean to, [Name].”

“I don’t even kn-know how it happened. I just–got infected”

“The Terrigan Crystals are everywhere now. You could easily have eaten some when no one else was around to notice the change. It’s not your fault.”

You hiccupped, and closed your eyes as though the thought caused you great pain. It probably did. “I never wanted–even if I did, I wouldn’t want this…”

“[Name],” said Phil, “I know.”

Finally, you wrenched your head up so that you could face him. Your eyes appeared scarlet in the dim light–from crying so much, he assumed, not your powers–and snot glistened on your upper lip. Never in his entire life had Phil ever seen anyone look so hopeless. Somehow, he managed to refrain from touching you still.

“I’d be better off dead,” you said brokenly.

Phil’s heart burned inside him. “Daisy had trouble at first, too. It’ll take practice, but we’ll figure something out for you. We’ll have Fitz and Simmons rig up a whole training facility. You’ll get used to it. No one will hurt you before then. I won’t let them.”

For a long while, you just stared at him. Quiet tears continued to course down your cheeks, but your gaze was steady. He had a good idea of what you were thinking about while you stared at him: That Daisy’s powers were never like yours, that there was no Afterlife to learn from anymore, that no one on the team or in the entire world would ever look at you as a human being again. But the last was a lie. You were still human, and Phil could see that. Human blood ran through your veins, red as his own, even now.

You did not remark upon any of that, though. Instead, you reached your arms out toward him, and your face crumpled once again. “Hold me,” you murmured.

So Phil did, closing the gap to put his arms around you. You pressed your head to his shoulder, quickly soaking his suit through with tears. He didn’t mind. If that was what it would take, he would hold on to you for the rest of the night and into the morning. 

No one else would lay a finger on you–not while he was there, and he didn’t plan to leave until he saw a real smile light up your face once more. It might be weeks before that happened; it might be years. But he wouldn’t leave your side until it did. Never again.

[upat4amwiththemoon]

can I request a Daisy Johnson x reader fanfic where reader works at shield and is the (secret) daughter of Coulson and May and only a small circle, not including Daisy knows who readers parents are. Reader and Daisy met at shield hq and Daisy ends up ranting to Coulson about the girl she met and after a while Coulson realises Daisy is talking about his daughter?

Accidental oversharing

Summary: The secret daughter of Phil Coulson and Melinda May.

Pairing: Daisy Johnson x female!reader, Philinda x daughter!reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 772

a/n: day 1000 of wishing Marvel gave us more Daisy Johnson content

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

masterlists | guidelines

“Oh shit!” A stack of papers falls to the ground as Daisy’s body bumps right into someone in the middle of the SHIELD headquarters’ hallway.

“I’m so sorry.” The other woman mumbles as she kneels down, starting to gather all the papers from the ground. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“No, it’s my fault,” Daisy picks up the few papers that flew further away.

The woman gives Daisy a small smile as she stands up, now holding all of her papers. She takes a double take, her brows scrunching together. “Aren’t you the Quake?”

“Oh god,” she cringes at the mention of her superhero name, “please call me Daisy. I hate that name.”

“Okay, Daisy. I’m Y/N.” Freeing one of her hands, Y/N reaches it out to shake Daisy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

It’s not that Daisy doesn’t pay attention to the people working at SHIELD, because she does, she makes sure to be at least polite to everyone (who deserves it), but right now she can’t help but stare at the woman in front of her, taking her in fully. “Uhuh.” She nods, shaking Y/N’s hand softly.

“Okay.” She lets out a small laugh before pulling her hand away from Daisy’s weak grip. “I really have to get going, but I’ll see you around, maybe.” Y/N waits for a couple of seconds before walking away.

“Yeah…” Daisy whispers, her eyes following her until she finally registers reality. “Wait what?” Her eyes widen as a visceral need to get the woman’s number comes over her. She desperately looks around to find the woman, but the sea of people has already hidden her from sight. “Shit.”

Daisy has no choice but to continue her way to Coulson, who called for her at least 30 minutes ago.

“Hey, Daisy?” Coulson’s hand waves in front of her face. “Are you listening to me?”

Daisy sighs, coming out of her dreamland as she focused her gaze on Coulson. “No, sorry AC.”

“What’s going on?”

Leaning her head over the back of the couch, Daisy smiles softly as she reminisces what happened not too long ago. “I bumped into someone, a woman, today. I don’t think I’ve seen her around before, because I’d definitely remember her if I had.”

“Someone finally caught your eye?” Coulson has a small grin on his face as he listens to her talk.

“What do you mean finally?” She scoffs, rolling her eyes before going to explaining. “She was so beautiful and nice, so cute, and I was acting so weird around her.” Daisy lays her hand over her face, a small grimace on it. “But I couldn’t help it! I got completely mesmerized by her.”

Though Coulson wanted to tease her at first, his grin turns into a genuine smile. Daisy hasn’t really paid attention to people after everything that happened with Ward and then Lincoln, so he is truly happy for her.

“I didn’t get her number though.” She mumbles. “But her name is Y/N, do you know her?”

At the mention of her name, Coulson’s brows raise. “Y/N? About yay tall, great hair, smiling all the time?” He gestures with his hands, wanting to make sure they’re thinking about the same person.

“Yeah! So you do know her?”

“Ask her number from May. I’m banner from that duty since I apparently don’t know how to judge a person’s vibes well enough.” He says it as if it’s the moat ridiculous thing he has ever heard, but there’s fondness in his tone.

Daisy furrows her brows, now lifting her head up properly to watch Coulson. “You know her well? May too?”

“Mhm.” He smiles, his arms crossed over his chest. “She is our daughter.”

There is a prolonged silence as Daisy tries to wrap her head around the sentence. “Daughter? You-“ she opens and closes her mouth, her wide eyes stuck on Coulson’s grinning face. “I know you two are together, but long enough to have a whole adult daughter?”

“Very few people know.”

“Why wasn’t I one of those people?”

“Security reasons. Don’t worry, none of the people on the team know.” Coulson takes out his phone, informing May that Daisy is now aware of their daughter.

“But-“ Daisy huffs before shaking her head. “Philinda daughter…” she mumbles.

“Please don’t call her that. May might hurt you.” Coulson pats Daisy’s shoulder. “Do you want her number?”

“Yes! Yes, I want her number.”

“Go get it from May-“ Daisy is already on her feet, “she is getting the bus ready.” And Daisy is gone, leaving Coulson to chuckle by himself.

[messedupfan]

Chapter 5

Summary: Reader and Wanda hang out together with some of their friends and get to know each other a bit better.

A/N: So sorry for the late chapter but this thing is almost 7k words and it was very difficult to find a stopping point. Chapter 6 is most likely going to be late as well, hopefully I can get back to my schedule. Thank you all for your patience and for reading. I truly appreciate all of you! Enjoy!

Masterlist | All Chapters | All Stories Taglist

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Spending a week in the woods, camping with Rachel, has been a tradition since she could walk. Jean only participated in the first two. After the divorce you weren't sure you wanted to keep the tradition but Jean made a few good points on why you should continue it. Now, years later, it's the best way that you get to bond with Rachel beyond the distracting devices and all of her shows and music. You do your best to keep up with all of it but she is constantly changing. You encourage it, of course. But it's hard to feel connected with your daughter. Except on these trips. 

You rent the same spot every year. The two of you build the tent together and make it cozy inside. Then you set up the fire pit and she finds the best spots for the chairs. The two of you make food together over the fire. Tell jokes and scary stories. Remain completely unplugged for the entire trip. At night she snuggles close and you cherish the way she holds you tight because you know there will be a day a few years from now when she won't. She'll be upset with you because you'll be upset with her. Things will get tough, as they do with growing up, and you won't get as many hugs as you do now. And she'll continue to grow up and find her own way in life and her snuggles and these camping trips will be nothing but a distant memory. 

Between meals the two of you make up games, talk to each other, and you teach her what you can think of at the moment.  The two of you swim in the lake nearby and have fun splashing each other. A dog runs up to her when she’s eating her food and you already know that she's going to start asking for a dog. Luckily, you're able to convince her that she's still too young for one. 

All too soon, it's Friday morning and the two of you are packing up the campsite. It's sad putting away the fun week but it's what has to be done. Once your truck is packed up, you hit the road and she's finally able to use her phone again. The entire drive home she is blasting her favorite songs and singing at the top of her lungs. Once you're back in town you're reminded of your plans and at a stop light you message Wanda to see if she's still up for drinks. You don't get a reply until you're pulling up to your apartment building. 

Too nervous to check, you unload the car and get Rachel comfortable before you check your messages. I’ll see you at seven? Your shoulders drop from the relief. You call your sister, Kate, and ask if she can babysit for a couple of hours. 

“Oh… does someone finally have a date?” She inquires and it makes you roll your eyes. 

“No, I'm just grabbing drinks with some friends,” you clarify. 

“You’re so boring,” she groans. “Alright, I'll babysit. I don't mind spending some one on one with my favorite niece!”

“She’s your only niece,” you laugh at her enthusiasm. 

“Exactly,” she says. “I’d have other favorite nieces, maybe even nephews, but no. You refuse to make anymore.”

“Gross, you do realize that you're upset with me for not getting laid, right?” The line goes quiet and you wonder if she's even there anymore. “Hello? Kate?”

“I’m here, I just had to go scrub my brain with bleach to remove the last few minutes from my memory.” She says nonchalant, as if that was the most normal thing to do. “Anyway, I'll be there in a few. You better leave me some money for food.”

“Of course, I'll see you in a bit. Thank you so much,” you say your goodbyes and hang up. You walk to Rachel’s room and knock on her door and enter once she says you can. “Hey kiddo, aunt Kate is coming over to watch you for a bit. I have something… I mean I will be… uh, I have to do something.” You cringe at how you’re fumbling telling her that you’re going out. Normally, to avoid this, you would plan to do something on a night you don’t have her. But you only have yourself to blame for this. 

“Okay, have fun,” she says as she scrolls through her phone. 

“Okay,” you almost want to laugh at how easy that was. “Okay,” you repeat yourself. “I’m going to shower so can you let your aunt in if she gets her before I’m out?” 

Rachel nods, “Yeah no prob, now go! You don’t want to smell gross for your date.”

“It’s not a date,” you clarify and Rachel mutters something to herself that you can’t decipher but decide you don’t want to know anyway. “Please don't ever grow up,” you say with a smile and she looks up at you with big eyes like her mother. 

“I have to someday,” she says seriously and it crushes something in you. As a parent, that is possibly the best and worst response to ever hear. “Now go, please,” she says with a small wave of her hand. 

You finally leave her room, closing the door to the point that it's left to a crack. Just to mess with her a little. Then you head to the shower because you haven't had a proper one in several days. Your daughter is right, you do smell pretty gross. When you step out you hear your sister and Rachel laughing at something playing on the television. You finish getting dressed and when you walk out with a smile to greet the two girls they look up at you with horror. 

“What?” You ask as you look at your t-shirt and jeans. Your usual attire. 

“Is that what you're wearing?” Kate asks as she slowly eats the popcorn from the bowl between her and Rachel. 

“Yeah, why? What's wrong with it?” You laugh at their judgmental eyes. 

“Nothing, it's just so… you,” Kate replies with disgust. 

“That’s a bad thing?”

“No,” she pauses as she continues to look you up and down. “It’s just not a good thing.” 

You shake your head with a laugh, “Gee thanks, little sis. But it's nothing to get bent out of shape over. It's just drinks with some friends. I highly doubt Steve or Phil are going to have anything to say about my outfit.” You grab your jacket and put it on despite Kate's commentary about not wearing it. “What? I checked the weather.  It might rain tonight.” 

“I’m sorry, Rach. You’re not going to get another step-mom anytime soon,” Kate says. 

Rachel is hardly paying attention to the conversation anymore so when her aunt speaks to her it takes a moment for her to respond. She shrugs, “It’s okay, Ms. Wanda likes their work uniform. She won’t mind this, I guess. I just thought she deserved better from them.” 

“Oh, she has a name? And she knows Rachel?” Kate says in surprise, happy to be getting the good details now. “This must be serious.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose as you shake your head. “No, it’s not. I’m not dating anyone, Kate. Stop encouraging this kind of behavior.” You say, frustrated from having to repeat yourself constantly. You never liked this kind of teasing. It makes you uncomfortable and feel like you have something to prove. Besides, it's not fair to the other person who can't defend themselves. You grab your wallet, phone, and keys. “I don't have cash on me so I’ll send you the money for dinner. Thank you for watching her.” You say as you get a text from Wanda that she's already at the bar and sends you her location to double check that it's the right one. You send her a thumbs up. “I’ll be right around the corner so if there's any kind of emergency do not hesitate to call. Okay?”

“Of course,” Kate says. She hands Rachel the bowl of popcorn and gets off the couch. She stands in front of you and pulls you in for a hug. “I’m sorry, I know I tease you a lot but… I just want you to be happy.”

You hold your sister for a second and pull away and smile at her. “I am happy, kiddo. You don't need to be in a relationship to find happiness.” 

She pats your check with a fake expression of pity. “Oh, you are so single. It's sad.” 

You shake your head with a hearty laugh. “Whatever, weirdo.” You step away from her and go to join Rachel on the couch to give your daughter a hug. “I love you, nugget. I'll see you in the morning.”

“Morning? You’re going to be out all night?” She asks in surprise. 

“No, sweetheart. You’ll be in bed by the time I come home.” You tell her with a soft laugh. “I’ll be back here tonight and will be making your favorite breakfast in the morning. Don’t worry.” You tap your finger to her nose and she scrunches her face with a giggle. 

“Okay, have fun!” She gives you one last side hug, careful to not spill the bowl of popcorn. 

Finally, you leave the apartment building and walk a few blocks down to your favorite bar. You used to work there when you turned twenty-one and learned many skills that you don’t use anymore unless it’s to try and impress someone you’re interested in. Especially since the owner has a soft spot for some of his former employees and will let you behind the bar to let you do a trick or two. 

Walking inside The Hub you grow nervous because this will be the first time you and Wanda intentionally hang out together. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to talk about. What if there is nothing to talk about? How are you supposed to continue to go to her house and eat her food if she hates you after this? Steve is sitting at the bar talking with Phil. You met Steve when working here, he was the one who trained you in mixology. 

Steve served in the military before you met him here. His usual story is that he only enlisted because he didn’t have a direction at eighteen and needed something to help him make good money early in life. The real story is that he spent the majority of his life training to be in the military. His entire family is in the military, it was all he knew. But once he was actually in battle he realized that life wasn’t for him. When he finished his six year commitment to the Marines, he didn’t renew his contract and hasn’t spoken to his family because of it. To say they didn’t approve would be an understatement.  

“Rogers!” You greet him happily. You do a quick handshake and pull each other into a half hug. “It’s been a while, I’m glad you could make it out.” You sit next to him. 

“I’ve been good, Peggy and I just got a place together,” he says with a grin as he takes a sip from his beer. 

“That’s awesome man,” you congratulate him. 

“Wow, it’s like I don’t exist,” Phil says as he sets a glass down in front of you and pours your favorite drink for you. 

“I was going to get to you,” you laugh at his impatience. “How’s it been, Coulson? The place looks busy. I can’t even find the person I invited out.” You look around to find Wanda and her friend but have no luck from where you’re sitting. 

“Yeah, business has been good,” he says with a frown as he throws his rag over his shoulder. 

“Why does that sound like it's a bad thing for you?” Steve picks up on the bar owner's mood. 

Phil leans on the bar and sighs. “My daughter is home for the summer and she needed a job but no one was willing to hire her so I thought what’s the worst that could happen? Turns out, it’s this.” He points to the crowd of guys that keep looking over at the bar to catch a glimpse of Phil’s daughter and you laugh as you realize that the ratio of males to females is not what you’re used to at this place. 

“Where is she?” Steve asks and you nudge him as you shake your head. “What? I just want to see her. It’s been a while. Geez, I’m in a committed relationship, Y/n.” 

Phil looks at Steve, “No one is seeing my daughter tonight. She isn’t scheduled to come in. I’ve made sure to give her all Friday’s to Sunday’s off.” He says proudly. You point out the room full of customers that don’t know and he laughs. “I’m not going to tell them that. I still need to keep this business afloat.” You nod with a smile as someone comes up from behind him and you recognize her from the photos that Phil has in his office. She is much more mature now than she is in those photos and you can see why she draws in a crowd. You clear your throat to get Phil’s attention and point her out to him. He spins around. “Daisy! I gave you the day off! Why are you here?” 

“Calm down, Grant asked me to cover his shift. Besides, these are the busiest nights and I can make great tips,” she explains as she ties her apron on. Her and Phil have a quiet argument and you and Steve watch in amusement. 

As guys come to crowd the bar you and Steve step away and you are reminded why you’re there in the first place. She is across the room, sitting in a booth in the corner chatting with her friend. Wanda looks up and the two of you make eye contact and you smile as you grab Steve’s attention. A soft blush warms her cheeks and she looks away from you. “There she is,” you tell him. Steve isn’t sure who you’re looking at so he lets you lead the way. You join her and her friend in the round booth. “I’m sorry it took so long to find you. This place isn’t usually this busy. Believe me, I used to make the worst tips here.” 

Wanda laughs, “Okay, I’ll just have to take your word for it.” The two of you stare at each other for a moment. Not sure how to act around each other in this setting. She takes a drink from her cup and points to her friend. “This is my best friend, Carol Danvers. She’s in the Air Force.” You reach your hand across the table to introduce yourself, mentioning that it was an honor to meet her.

“An honor?” Steve scoffs in offense. “I served six years and you never said it was an honor to meet me.” 

“That’s because you’re a nightmare,” you retort. 

“I will have you know, I am a delight,” Steve defends himself. “I’m Steve Rogers by the way.” He offers his hand to Wanda first then Carol. “I know, it's an honor to meet me.” The girls laugh at his joke and you shake your head. 

You turn to Wanda, “I’m sorry about him. Now you can see why I'm in search of some new friends.” 

Wanda nods with her eyebrows raised, “I won't lie, I half expected you to bring Rachel's mom or my brother.” She admits in a laugh. “So, how'd the two of you meet?” 

“Here,” you state as you sip your beverage. “We used to work together here.” You tip your glass to her friend who is engrossed in a conversation with Steve about basic training and sharing war stories. “How did the two of you meet?” 

Wanda looks at Carol and then looks back at you. “We met at a party in high school,” she shrugs. “We didn't go to the same school, we just knew a few of the same people and became friends that way.”

“Oh that's cool. Which high school did you attend?” Wanda tells you about the high school she attended in another state. Then she goes into how she made her way out here. That she got into the university here and that's where she met Vision. How she got into architecture. She talks about how her parents weren’t ever married and that her father moved out here when she was in middle school. Which is part of what influenced her choice in university. Explains how Pietro followed along shortly after and worked under their father to prepare to take over the construction business for him. 

Before she can continue on with her life story, Daisy comes over to the table with a notepad and a few menus. “So my dad is having a bitch fit and now I'm your personal server tonight. Here,” she tosses the menus onto the middle of the table. “I will be back every five minutes. Go.” She walks away and you laugh. 

“The service is wonderful here,” Carol says sarcastically. 

“Oh yeah, definitely employee of the month,” Wanda chimes in and the two women share a look before laughing at each other. Steve makes a funny face to you and you shrug because you have no clue what their inside joke is. Wanda grabs a menu and turns to you. “What would you recommend?” 

“The loaded nachos and that’s it,” Steve cuts into the conversation. 

You nod, “Yeah, that’s the only thing that doesn’t go in the toaster oven.” 

“A toaster oven?” Wanda scoffs at the idea that an establishment would be allowed to get away with such a thing. But you nod, not showing any sign of the information being a joke. “Wow, okay. Loaded nachos then.” 

“My goodness! There you two are!” A woman says as she gets close to the booth. “I have been to three bars looking for you guys. What are we doing here?” She slides in next to you on the booth and she gives you a flirty smile. “Oh, hello,” she winks at you then she leans on the table to talk directly to Wanda. “Now I know why you were ignoring my texts.” She returns her attention to you, “Tell me cutie, are you single?” 

Wanda bursts out laughing at your uncomfortable expression as the strange woman strokes your arm. “Agatha, pump the brakes. This is the friend I told you about.” 

Agatha stops trying to flirt with you and her eyes widen. “Oh! You’re them! Oh, honey why didn’t you say anything,” She swats your shoulder as she lets out a boisterous laugh. Agatha holds her hand out to you, “Agatha Harkness, pleasure to make your acquaintance.” 

You accept her hand and shake it quickly before dropping it. “Nice to meet you as well, I’m Y/n.” 

“Oh honey, I know who you are.” She directs her next words to Wanda. “You told me they were cute but you didn’t say they were hot!” 

You look at Wanda with raised eyebrows and a teasing smirk. “Yeah, explain yourself, Wanda.” 

Wanda opens and closes her mouth as she blushes. She knew she shouldn’t have used any sort of compliment as a descriptor. “I never said Y/n is cute.” She says as she points her finger at Agatha. 

“Right, you didn’t say cute,” Agatha gives her a big wink. 

“If it evens the score, Y/n told me that Wanda is very pretty,” Phil chimes in as he comes over with a tray of drinks. You had told him the kind of drink you wanted Wanda to try when you texted him earlier about being here. He said that he’d have them ready once you lasted more than ten minutes at the table with her. “If you ask me, Y/n is a little smitten.”

You shake your head, “It’s a good thing no one asked you then.” Steve makes an ooh sound, Carol laughs and Wanda appears a little impressed. “Thank you, Phil. I appreciate everything you do.” You rush out with an apologetic smile. 

“You’re lucky I know you,” he says after he clears the tray. “Otherwise I’d pay Steve here to throw you out of here.” 

“Oh please, you wouldn’t have to pay me.” Steve says as he grabs his glass, “I’d gladly do it for free.” 

You nod your head, “Yup, these are the people I call my friends.” 

The two men laugh and Daisy returns to the table. “Know what you want yet?” She asks with her notepad and pen ready. 

“Two orders of loaded nachos please,” Steve says. “And a side order of your number,” he winks. Phil smacks the back of Steve’s head. “Ow! I was joking!”

“Behave, I won’t tell you twice,” Phil says unamused while the rest of you try to not laugh. 

Steve salutes him, and then looks at Daisy. “I’m sorry, we’ll just have the nachos, please.” 

The night continues like that, with humorous bits and teasing. Daisy returns every few minutes to check on the table and you order a couple rounds of shots that you want Wanda to try.  You watch her to see if she likes them and when she makes a comment about how you know good drinks Steve points out that you have a home court advantage. To which Carol suggests a change in venue for an even playing field. You pay for the nachos and some of the drinks as Wanda refuses to let you cover the entire bill. 

As you’re leaving The Hub, Daisy pulls you aside while everyone else walks out. You look at her confused and she writes her phone number on a paper in the notepad. She rips it out and slips it in your pocket with a sultry, “Call me.” You find the gesture to be a little funny but you don’t reject her right there. You figure that you’ll probably never use the number. Out of respect to her father and to her. You thank her and walk out the door to catch up with your group. 

As they’re walking Wanda thinks of something to ask you and turns around only to find you missing from the group. She looks around and sees the interaction between you and Daisy through the window. Her eyes widen when she sees the girl stick her fingers in your front pocket. She feels a pang of jealousy but she isn’t sure that’s exactly what she is feeling. Maybe she was feeling off from all of the alcohol they were mixing. Why would she be jealous of you getting some girl's number? You seemed close with her father, so you could be receiving that number for any reason. And yet, she couldn’t shake the fact that seeing that intimate interaction bothered her. When you appear in front of her asking where the five of you are headed off to next, she has to snap herself out of her head. She shrugs because she was so focused on herself that she wasn’t paying attention to the rest of them.

Steve points to a place a few buildings down that the group of five make agree to and their way over. This place was more of a nightclub and there is a crazy long line to get inside which you were completely fine with. It gave you some time to talk with Wanda while waiting. She asked you a lot of questions this time, to get to learn more about you. All you talk about is how you’re from this city and go into the details of your family. How you didn’t like being a child of a bitter divorce and that you wanted better for your daughter. Then you talk about the different types of jobs you’ve had since you were fifteen. And you reveal how you’re working towards a business degree at the community college because you’ve always wanted to start your own handmade furniture business. Steve hypes up your work when he overhears that part of the conversation. You awkwardly thank him and next thing you know, the five of you are inside the club. 

Once inside, you hate it immediately.  The music is loud making it difficult to hear. It’s hot and the air is thin. It was hard to breathe in anything other than the aroma of alcohol and the smell of other people’s sweat.  The place is full and cramped with sweaty bodies knocking into or grinding on each other which makes it hard to stick together. The flashing and rapidly moving lights are unpleasant and difficult to see through. Wanda grabs the collar of your shirt and roughly pulls you close so that you can hear her, “Can we leave?” 

You nod without hesitation and turn around to tell the rest of them that it’s time to go but Carol, Agatha, and Steve have disappeared in the crowd. Wanda grabs onto your jacket with a tight grip so she doesn’t lose you while you search for the other three. You spot Agatha first, she is grinning as she dances provocatively with some random man. Next you spot Carol smiling at a woman as she leans against the bar. Lastly, you find Steve getting excited about spotting a group of guys he recognizes. It’s as if those three were in this place for longer than a few minutes and made themselves very comfortable in the environment. 

You wrap your arm around Wanda’s waist to pull her close to talk, “I think we’re just going to have to wait outside for them.” Wanda nods and agrees telling you that she just wants to get out. You guide her through the many bodies that are colliding together as they dance to the booming music until the two of you are finally outside. “Oh my goodness I never thought I was going to breathe fresh air again!” You exaggerate once you’re free. 

Wanda laughs, “Oh man I had no idea that’s what those were like! I don’t really see the appeal of a place like that!” 

“We’re not drunk enough to enjoy it,” you shrug. 

“I guess not,” Wanda looks at you. “Were you a person that could handle a club like that?” 

You look back at the building and know that there are photos of you in that place somewhere online so there was no point in lying, it was a part of your life that you’re not proud of but a part no less. You nod, “Before my divorce, no way. I was a full-time parent and spouse. After my divorce however…” you drag out as you’re not sure how else to put it. Wanda nods in understanding but you feel like you still have to explain yourself. “Those first few weeks with no family to come home to were so lonely. I’m sure you know how it is. That quiet and isolation is so suffocating. So, yeah, I lost myself in a place like this.” You think back on that time and your reaction to going into that place back then is very different from how you reacted just now. “It’s been a while though and honestly, I cannot tell you how I did it. I don’t know how they’re doing it now!” 

Wanda laughs in agreement, “I guess it’s fun for some people. A nightmare for others. And an escape for those who need it.” 

“That’s an interesting observation,” you say. “Did you ever do stuff like this before having the boys?”

Wanda makes a face and looks back at the building then back to you, “No,” she drags the word out.“It always seemed like my worst nightmare and well… I was right.” 

You nod, “Yeah, it doesn't seem like your kind of thing. Sorry about that, I probably should have shut this idea down.”

“Don't be, I could have said something, I mean we were waiting in line for like an hour. I was curious and now I'm not.” She says with a shrug. Wanda looks around the street and spots another bar with a calmer setting that also has an outdoor option. “Want to go there?” She points it out and you look it over a bit. If you get a spot close to the railing, Steve and the girls will be able to see the two of you from the club when they exit. 

“Sure,” you offer your elbow for her to take. Wanda accepts it and makes a comment about chivalry and you laugh. The two of you cross the street and enter the establishment. It’s the type of place where you have to wait to be seated. So you tell the hostess two for outside and she grabs a couple menus and leads you to the empty corner table you had spotted from the club. You thank her and pull the chair out for Wanda, she looks at you funny. “What? You’re the one who said chivalry wasn’t dead. I have to continue to keep it alive.” 

“That’s too bad,” she pulls the other chair out, “because now it’s my turn.” She pats the back of the chair, “Have a seat, Y/n.” You look at the gesture and happily accept it. Wanda walks around to claim her seat, “There, now we’re even.” 

“Are we? I wasn’t keeping score,” you open the menu and start to look it over. You have only been here a couple of times and are still relatively unfamiliar with what they carry.

Wanda sits there and stares at you for a moment as read the menu. Not knowing the impact your words had on her. Most of her life has been an ongoing score board. If someone did something nice for her she made certain to do something even nicer, expecting them to do something in return. That’s just how relationships and friendships seemed to happen in her life. It wasn’t until halfway through her marriage with Vision that she realized that behavior wasn’t exclusive to good deeds. The amount of bad things they did to each other until the end of it when Vision won and continues to win… Cracks are starting to break through the rose colored lenses. 

“Can I get you two anything to drink to start?” A handsome waiter with a winning smile asks, breaking Wanda out of her thoughts. You tell him that you’re going to have a glass of water and one of the local IPA’s. “And for the pretty lady?” The man doesn’t hide that he is checking her out and though Wanda is flattered by the attention, she wasn’t comfortable with it being from him. 

“I’ll just have water,” she says shyly. 

“Actually, cancel the IPA, I’ll just have the water,” you change your order. You don’t want to be drinking anymore alcohol if Wanda is stopping. “And I’ll add an order of the grilled bread and good olive oil.” You notice that the waiter isn’t taking his eyes off of Wanda and you notice how she seems to shrink under his gaze. “Would you like another appetizer, honey?” you clear your throat as you ask. Not comfortable with using the term of endearment. Wanda sits up as it sounds foreign from you but she notices that the waiter has finally stopped looking at her. 

“Oh um, yeah, babe, you know what I like,” she tries her best to play along as she looks over the appetizers. “You’re so silly, you know that I like the-the… oh! White truffle garlic bread. That’s what I’ll have. For us,” she reaches across the table for your hand, “to share.” You bite your lips to keep from laughing as you nod and throw in a wink. 

“Will that be all for now?” The man’s flirty demeanor has changed to a more professional one and you know that although the both of you are horrible at pretending, you’ve been able to pull it off. 

“Yes, that’s all for now, thank you,” you say politely. He walks away and once he’s gone, you can’t help but laugh a little. “Oh I think we hurt his feelings.” 

Wanda smiles and hums, “That’s what he gets for being creepy.” She removes her hand from yours. “Thank you for that, by the way.” 

You wave her gratitude off, “It’s nothing. He should be focused on his job and not making his customers uncomfortable.” 

Wanda crosses her arms and leans on the table, “Did you ever pick anyone up when you were a bartender?” 

You laugh and shake your head, “No, I was still married when I started the job and then I was enjoying being out of a relationship when the divorce happened. I got to learn a lot about myself in that time.” 

“Have you dated since your divorce?” 

“I have been on a few dates. But I haven’t committed to a relationship since Jean,” you admit. “And it’s not because I still have feelings for her. Things between us ended for a reason and we’re still friends. That’s what we were always meant to be. But I haven’t met someone that I could introduce to her.” 

Wanda makes a face, “What do you mean by that?”

“Well, when she started dating, she kind of made up a system to weed out the people she wasn’t sure if they would work out or not. If she didn’t think she could introduce them to me without a doubt that I would be comfortable with them being around Rachel, then she wouldn’t pursue it. Now she’s happily married to the woman of her dreams,” you elaborate. 

“Huh,” Wanda says. The waiter returns with a pitcher of water to fill two glasses and the two plates of appetizers. When he disappears she continues the conversation. “I’ll probably be single forever then,” she says before she drinks her water. 

You laugh as you chew on the bread, “Oh yeah, that system is not designed for people like Vision.” 

Wanda shakes her head, “Nope. I’m sure he already has a file of every bad thing you’ve ever done prepared for drop off on Sunday.” 

“Oh gosh, so you’re saying I shouldn’t have accepted that follow request from hotgurl69?” You say with a smirk. 

Wanda stops chewing and stares at you with uncertainty, “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m not,” you grin as you pull out your phone to show her the obviously fake account that followed you during the week. It had a couple of posts of an objectively attractive woman but not someone that is your type. You hand it to Wanda and she shakes her head in disbelief as she looks it over. “I didn’t actually allow the account to follow me but oh that was something to see when I got back.” 

“He is a nutjob,” Wanda says under her breath. She blocks the account just for her sanity. “I am so sorry about that,” she returns your phone to you. “That’s ridiculous, he is such a child.” 

“There you guys are!” Carol says with a girl under her arm. “These are my friends. That’s Wanda and that’s… Wait. What’s your name again?” She points to you and you smile as you introduce yourself to the girl. 

“Hi, I’m Maria Rambeau,” she says with a grin. “It’s nice to meet you guys!” 

“Likewise,” Wanda smiles. 

“We’re about to head out, I just thought I’d tell you so you didn’t assume the worst. Also, Agatha went home with some Ralph guy. I don’t know. But have fun,” Carol waves as she walks away fast so that Wanda can’t convince her to stay. You and Wanda laugh as the group has gone their separate ways for the night. 

You look at your phone to send a message, “I should probably check on Steve and oh! His girlfriend had an emergency and he went home.” You close the phone and put it in your pocket. “I guess it’s just you and me, that is unless you’re ready to go home.” 

Wanda looks at the half eaten bread on the table, then to the busy street full of people walking by and businesses that are alive, and then at you. Smiling at her with kind eyes that make her feel special. Eyes that make her nervous in the best possible ways. “No, I’m okay to stay a little longer,” is what she wants to say. But she isn’t sure what would happen if she did stay. How would the night end with just the two of you past this point? Would the two of you go on a stroll and continue to talk? Will there be a moment where the two of you get swept up by some romantic setting and she does something stupid like kiss you? She doesn’t want to risk this growing friendship for something so silly. Besides, you and her brother will be at her house tomorrow fixing her wall. She has already looked foolish in front of you plenty of times in the few weeks that you’ve known each other. She doesn’t need to add to that list tonight. 

“Actually, I am a bit tired. Knowing Pietro, I’ll be waking up at six in the morning to let him in,” Wanda explains. “This was really nice, thank you for inviting me out. I haven’t had the courage to do something like this in a while. We should do it again sometime.”

“Yeah, and hopefully something that keeps everyone interested and engaged,” you reply. “I’ll cover the bill, we don’t want to give prince charming over there any reason to make some move on you because I can’t pay for your meal,” you say as you pull out your card.

“Ah well, it’s only appetizers,” she remarks. “If I were him, I’d probably say something about the lack of a three course meal.” 

“Oh, no worries,” you say as you wave the waiter over. “I’m two steps ahead of you.” The waiter approaches and you ask for the bill. He makes a face stating that you’ve only ordered appetizers. “Yeah, we got a call from the sitter,” you start and glance at Wanda to see her start to smile. “Six kids is a lot to handle for one person. We rarely ever get to have an uninterrupted evening like this,” you lie easily and Wanda tries to hide her amusement. 

“Yeah,” she adds with a disappointed sigh, “And can you believe we’re expecting seven and eight?” She reaches across the table again for your hand and squeezes it with excitement. 

The waiter's eyes widen, “Wow uh, congratulations! You could never tell. Since this was a celebration, you know what, the meal is on the house.” You are surprised and insist on paying but he clears the table and allows you and Wanda to leave without paying. 

The two of you walk to the end of the street where you’re headed in opposite directions. “My apartment is that way,” you point to the building you’ve called home for the past year and a half. Wanda nods as she makes a comment about the building looking nice. Then she turns and points to the parking garage where she parked her car. “I will see you tomorrow then,” you say awkwardly, not really sure how to end the night. 

“Tomorrow,” she repeats, “Goodnight, Y/n.” Wanda walks away and you head home after bidding her a goodnight as well.

When you walk in, the place is quiet other than the soft volume of the television that Kate is watching. “So? How’d it go?” she asks in a whisper. 

You shrug as you remove your jacket, “It was fun. Her friends ended up finding people to go home with and Steve had to head back to Peggy. Wanda and I got to spend some time alone and it was nice. Plus, do you remember Daisy? Phil’s daughter?” You are sitting next to your sister on the couch now. Kate nods as the name rings a bell. “Well she’s home from school and she gave me her number.” 

“Oh, she has had a crush on you forever,” Kate admits. 

You make a face, “Really?” You don’t want to believe your sister, especially not since she is constantly making comments on your lack of a love life. But it does explain why she made the move on you when you hadn’t shown any interest in her all night. “Oh well, I’m not going to call her anyway.” 

“Why not? Things go well with Wanda?” She tries to see if you’ll admit that there is anything more than friendship between you and Wanda and you roll your eyes at her attempt.

“You’re insufferable, you know?” Kate shrugs and asks again why you’re not going to use Daisy’s number. “One, it’s none of your business and two she’s Phil’s daughter. That’s weird, I consider him a friend. I can’t just date his little girl without him knowing. Then I can’t end things with her if he does. It’s way too complicated.” 

“Is it? Or are you making it complicated?” Kate challenges and not having the energy to even try to argue with her, you get off the couch. 

“I’m going to bed. You know how to use the pull out,” you walk to your room. “Goodnight,” you call out to her behind you.

Chapter 6

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[arlana-likes-to-write]

Trust is Earned

Part 2 of Face to Face - I’m dedicating this story to @alicenter​ because her comment on the first part made me think of this story. 

Summary: You weren’t used these types of comfort as you lay in a soft bed with to many pillows and blankets. Instead of sleeping, you walk around their house and see the memories they’ve built. But Melina accuses you of snooping and her distrust of you. 

Warning: jealousy, fighting, bullet wound, distrust, family drama, mention of killing, mention of past abuse 

Word count: 5.2 k 

You stared up at the ceiling fan, watching it spin around and around. It was therapeutic in a way but you wished it would help you fall asleep. No matter how hard you tried, sleep wasn’t coming to you and you knew it. The bed was too soft, the room was too cold, and your mind wouldn’t shut up. With a heavy sigh, you swung your feet to the ground and walked out of the room. You weren’t sure what your plan was. But your feet walked you around their home. You saw pictures from Christmas, birthday parties, and trips to the capital. A tight feeling began to form in the middle of your chest. You picked up the old photo album from Ohio and flipped through the fake memories. It was a day you remembered so clearly, you shot Christmas, Easter, and summer vacation in one day. But Christmas was your favorite. All the brightly wrapped boxes that you knew were empty but you wanted to open every single one of them. Just for one moment, it would be real. “What are you doing?” You spun around to see Melina standing behind you. It was weird seeing her in a robe with slippers on but you didn’t miss the pistol in her hand. 

“I was -” 

“Snooping,” she grabbed the album from your hand. “Finding out all our secrets to report back to the Red Room.” Your eyes grew wide at the accusation. “So it’s true.” You snapped out of it. 

“What are you talking about?” You questioned. “I’m helping SHIELD take down the Red Room,” she pointed the gun at you. You raised your hands, showing her you had no weapon on you. Now you were trained to be a weapon, similar to the train she’s gone through, but you were wearing Natasha’s extra sleeping clothes and you were extremely sleep deprived. Your brain was struggling to make sense of what was going on. “You don’t trust me.” You whispered. 

“I want to,” she said. There was a slight shake of her hand. “I want to trust you so bad but I can’t,” your heart skipped and your stomach dropped. “But I know what they are capable of and I can’t risk the safety of my girls.” My girls. My girls. My girls. It was a mantra that echoed inside your head. All of a sudden, the room became too small and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. My girls. My girls. You weren’t part of that. To Melina, you were disposable. You weren’t sure what hurt more her saying that or you believe her. 

“What the hell is going on?” Natasha asked, appearing out of nowhere with Yelena behind her. It seemed like they were a packaged duo, one wasn’t far without the other. You weren’t a part of that. My girls. My girls.   

“So,” your voice stopped the arguing between Melina and Natasha. “What’s the play, Melina? Are you going to kill me and I’ll become another red mark on your ledger or are you going to bring me back to Dreykov and let him do it?”

“No,” Natasha said, standing between you and Melina. “She’s not going anywhere. She is staying here where she’s safe and we can be a family again.”

“Natalia, we can’t trust her,” Melina said. “She’s been with them for years. This could be a trap to get the three of us back.” Three not four but three. Once again she didn’t add you, creating a division between you and them. My girls. My girls. Natasha, Yelena, and Melina. You weren’t a part of it. 

“She was with them because she gave herself up to save us or did you forget about that night?” You didn’t want to be the driving wedge between them. You’ve been alone for years, what’s one more night? 

“Maybe Melina’s right,” Natasha whipped around to stare at you. “I could be a target and staying here endangers your family. I wasn’t thinking and I was being selfish. I’ll get my stuff and head out, find a hotel, or stay with the team.” You pushed past Natasha and headed to the room that gave you. Not your room. A room. My girls. Three not four. You started throwing your stuff into the duffle bag, not worrying about how it looked. You turned to leave, almost running into Natasha. 

“You don’t have to go,” she said. “I’ll convince Melina. I’ll..”

“It’s okay,” you said, cutting her off. “I don’t want to get in the way between you and her. I’ll be okay.” 

“I called Maria. She’s expecting you. I’ll text you the address.” 

“Thank you,” you shifted your weight from side to side. “I should get going. I didn’t mean to wake you and Yelena.” You had to get out. So you did, leaving her in the room that was supposed to be yours.

*

Maria opened the door before you could even knock. “Saw you on the camera,” she said as you raised your eyebrow in question. “You look like you could use a drink.” You laughed, bitterly as she stepped out of the way. You entered the house. Phil was at the dining room table, papers covering it and you saw Clint in the kitchen making a pot of coffee. 

“Do you guys sleep?” You questioned as Maria closed the door. 

“Not when we have more questions than answers,” Phil said, waxing at you as his greeting. You sat down at the small kitchen island, dropping your bag to the floor. 

“So we have vodka, tequila, or beer,” Clint said, pouring coffee into a mug. 

“Is it good vodka or American vodka?” You asked with a tilt of your head. Clint glared at you. 

“I’ve known Nat for a long time,” he said, pulling the vodka bottle out of the fridge. “Do you know I’d offer you American vodka?” It pulled a small smile to your lips. 

“I’m glad she had you,” Maria sat down next to you as Clint poured you a shot. “All of you,” you clarified, staring into the clear liquid. “You were there when I wasn’t. Cheers.” The liquid burned as it went down. “So, what can I do to help?” 

*

You were sitting on the couch going over all the information SHIELD had on the Red Room. It wasn't much but mixed with what Melina had the answer to the 101 questions had to be in here somewhere. You were twirling a pen in your hand as you read over Peggy Carter’s notes. Phil and Clint called it a night but Maria stayed up and she was doing a bad job of being subtle. “You're staring again.” You said, closing the file you were reading. You switched to beer after your third shoot. 

“Just putting a face to fall the stories I’ve heard about,” you raised an eyebrow at her. 

“They told you about me?” You questioned. The agent nodded her head. That was hard to believe. 

“You don’t believe me?” You smirked. “It was mostly Natasha. She told me about Ohio and that night at the airstrip. The few times I was at their house I’ve caught Melina staring at your door. I mistook it as a guest room and almost got shot.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You asked, turning to face her. 

“Do you regret that night?” She asked instead. You leaned back, resting your back on the arm of the couch and your legs crossed in front of you. “Do you regret giving yourself to him?”

“No,” you whispered. “And I’d do it again. In any lifetime, I’d do anything to protect my sisters,” you took a sip of the beer. “I’d sell my soul a thousand times to the devil to keep them safe. I think that’s why it hurts so much that Melina doesn’t trust me,” you rubbed your hand across your face. “But once he’s gone for good, they’ll be safe and be a family again.” You turned to get back to work, ignoring the frown on Maria’s face. 

“They’re your family too,” you closed your eyes, taking in a slow shaky breath and letting it out. 

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “Once upon a time, they were. They’ve made a life here and I don’t know if I fit into it. I’m disposable.” 

*

“Can you please talk to me?” Melina asked, pouring two cups of coffee for her and Natasha and orange juice for Yelena. Natasha was cutting up a pepper to throw in an omelet that asked for. She was cutting the vegetable a little too aggressively but it was the best way to give her anger an outlet. 

“There is nothing to say,” Natasha mumbled, putting the peppers into the pan. 

“You have to see it from my perspective,” the older Black Widow said. “My priority is to keep you girls safe.”

“Who is watching out for her?” Natasha hissed. She cleaned the knife before putting it away in the correct place. “We should have gone back for her.” She had so much guilt eating up inside her from that night. The gunshots that hit the plane kept her up at night. 

“How?” Melina questioned, starting on Yelena’s lunch. “Please tell me how we could have saved her,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Your sister knew the consequences when she locked us out of that plane.”

“Now we have a chance to be a family again,” she placed the omelet on the plate. “But you don’t trust her. What's it going to take?” Before Melina could answer, Yelena entered the kitchen. She sat down in front of the omelet and orange juice. 

“Do you think I’ll still be able to play tomorrow?” Yelena asked, cutting into the food. “Will it be safe?” Natasha grabbed the mug that Melina poured for her. 

“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “After I drop you off at school, I’ll regroup with the team. There will be an agent stationed outside the house and at your school.”

“What about you?” Yelena frowned.

“I’ll be fine,” she reassured her sister with a smile. “I’ll be with Maria or Clint at all times.” She nodded, pushing her food around her plate. Something else was bothering her, it wasn’t hard for Natasha to notice the change in her sister’s behavior. “What else is wrong?”

“What about Y/n?” She questioned. Now that was a great question. From what Maria told her, you refused a protection detail and were sounding self-destructive. 

“She’ll be with me,” she said, ignoring the look on Melina’s face. “Once this is over, we’ll all be safe.” 

*

You were standing in the kitchen, buttering a bagel. “Are you okay?” Clint asked. You didn’t look at the SHIELD agent.

“Yes,” you said. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He leaned against the counter with his arms crossed. 

“Because it looks like you are going to murder someone with that butter,” you smirked, rolling your eyes. “I think you could.” Oh 100% but it would be a messy way to kill someone and not a cool way to die. The front door opened and Natasha walked in. Her green eyes immediately found you. They screamed ‘Are you okay?’ and ‘Please talk to me.’ You smiled, nodding your head. You hoped it conveyed everything you were feeling. “Ready to meet the boss man?” Clint asked, following you to the couch. 

“Yeah,” you said, standing behind the couch while Clint sat down to join the others. 

“Just don’t say anything stupid,” Natasha teased. You gasped in mock offense. 

“I would never,” you smiled as Maria accepted the video call. The screen changed to a man with an eye patch wearing a trench coat. An odd outfit you thought. 

“So,” he said. “This is the infamous Black Widow,” you took a bite of your bagel. “I’m guessing you know who I am.” You nodded. 

“Nick Fury, the director of SHIELD. 

“Also the reason you aren’t in custody or buried 6 feet under.” A smirk formed on your lips. 

“Are you expecting a thank you, sir?” You questioned. You heard Natasha let out a small groan. He folded his hands and leaned back in his chair. 

“What I’m expecting is for you to help take down the Red Room and follow every order my agents give,” he said. “Or I will pick one of the numerous countries that you're wanted in and drop you off.” Fair enough. You shrugged. 

“Sounds like a fair exchange,” you said. “And after the Red Room is gone and Dreyokv is dead, what is going to happen to me?” Natasha offered you a spot at SHIELD but she wasn’t the boss. The man in front of you was. Similarly, another man held your fate. 

“Well, that’s up to you,” he said. You raised an eyebrow, not expecting to have a choice in the matter. “Depending on the outcome of the mission, I’ll be offering you a position at SHIELD.”

“If I were to turn down your generous offer?” There was an intense stare-off between you and the Director. But to your surprise, the man smiled. Or it was something close to a smile. 

“I like you, Widow,” he said. “I think we’ll get along well.”   

*

It was lunchtime. Yelena was sitting outside with a few of her friends. She was stressed, on edge, that much you could tell. She was glancing over her shoulder, barely eating her food or engaging in the conversation around her. You made out the SHIELD agent assigned to your sister. Taking a sip of your coffee, you made note of the surrounding area. The school was across the street from a neighborhood, an odd place to put a school you thought. A wooded area surrounded the small sports complex and there was a parking lot in front. You opened your laptop and pulled up a satellite image of the school. It was clear and you looked back at Yelena. She was talking to a girl, and whatever she said made the girl’s cheek blush. You smiled, shaking your head with a laugh. This is why you locked them out of the plane so they could have a normal life - go to football games, flirt with people, and smile. You were being honest with Maria, no matter what you’d keep them safe. So when the same two girls walked past the car for the 3rd time something wasn’t right. You were a trained spy, able to sneak into government buildings and take down countries. Your gut instinct kept you alive. Carefully, you opened the glove compartment and pulled out a pistol, your widow bites, and a hat. You put the hat on and attached the gun to your hip, covering it with your sweatshirt. As you listened to your phone ring, you got out of the car. “Where did you go?” Natasha asked. 

“Yelena’s school. Send back up,” you didn’t flinch as the gunshot rang out, hitting the SHIELD agent. “I’ll get her safe,” you told her. You began to run as the school erupted into chaos, pushing past students and school officials. “Hurry.” You put your phone in your pocket. Yelena stood up from the table, looking around in a panic. A scream left her lips as the girl next to her was shot. You got to her, pulled her to the ground, and flipped the picnic table on its side. It wasn’t the best cover but it was the only option. “Hey, hey,” she had blood splattered on her face and her green eyes were wide and frantic. “Eyes on me, okay?” With the sleeve of your shirt, you tried to clean up some of the blood on her face. She nodded. “I’m going to get you out of here and SHIELD is on their way.” Another shot and Yelena squeaked.

You grabbed a small makeup mirror and opened it, using it to see behind the picnic table. There was a sniper on top of the school and a small group of Widows swarming the parking lot. You pulled out your pistol. “On my mark, you are going to run towards the school.” You looked at the blueprints of the building, the cafeteria was through the closest door, and down the hall was the gym. That was your best option. 

“I’m scared,” she whispered. You nodded. 

“I know but you’ll be okay. Reader?” She nodded. “Go!” You popped up and aimed for the sniper. You weren’t aiming to kill just to disarm. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Yelena run towards the school. With the sniper taking cover, the Widows on the ground ran over to you. You fired some shots at them before following Yelena. They shot back. 

Yelena was standing in the cafeteria waiting for you. “Where are we going?” She asked as you grabbed her arm and dragged her along. 

“Gym,” you told her. “We can circle back to the front to get back to the car.” Glass shattering echoed the quiet hallway. You turned around and saw 2 Widows in the hallway. “Fucking hell,” you mumbled, running towards the gym. Like the hallway the gym was empty. “Hide behind the bleachers,” you said. “Don’t come out until I say so.” She ran behind the bleachers without hesitation. You had just enough time to reload your magazine as the two Widows walked in. 

“Gde ona (Where is she?)” One of them asked. You didn’t recognize them so they must be a lower level than you. 

“I have no idea who you are talking about,” you were accepting the hit to your stomach but the air was still knocked out of your lungs. You stayed on your feet as they circled you, mimicking a lion and its prey. But you knew the real roles here, they weren’t going to kill you or Yelena.   

“We don’t want to hurt you, sister,” your heart skipped. They were your sisters brought together by blood and violence. 

“Funny,” you said. “I was thinking the same thing.” You shot one of them with your widow bites and she went down easily. You dogged the attack, dropping to the ground and sticking out your leg. She fell but she grabbed onto your leg and threw you to the ground. You hit your head hard against the wooden gym floor. You both stood up slowly, facing each other. “I’m sorry,” you charged her, tackling her to the ground. She fought against you, hitting you but you were stronger. It was one quick punch and she was out cold. You fell back, your heart pounding in your rib cage as you stared at the unconscious Widow. “You can come out Yelena,” you said, standing up. The blonde walked out from behind the bleachers. 

“Are you okay?” She asked. You nodded. 

“Yeah,” you said, placing your hand on her back. “Let’s get out of here.” You ran out of the gym but there was a nagging feeling in the back of your head. They were too easy to take down. The girls were around Yelena’s age so they weren’t experienced. Why did he send them? “My car is over there,” you said, opening the door and pointing towards the direction of the car. The front of the school was still in chaos. “Let’s go,” you put the hood of Yelena’s jacket up to try to cover her face. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. The apology took you by surprise. It was something you weren’t expecting, especially from her. “I’m sorry you had to hurt them to protect me.” 

“I’ll do anything to protect you and Natasha, okay?” She nodded but you could still feel the guilt radiating off of her. You saw the Widow across the street and you pushed Yelena to the ground as the gun went off. The pain wasn’t bad as the bullet hit your stomach. Without thinking you raised your pistol and shot the Widow. It was a quick and easy kill but it somehow hurt more than the bullet. 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you hissed as Yelena pushed her hands on the gunshot wound. 

“I’m okay, not my first time getting shot,” you joked. “I need you to drive. Can you do that?” Her face was drained of color but she nodded. “Good,” you handed her the keys and got into the car. 

“Where are we going?” Yelena asked, her hands stained red and shaking. 

“The safe house,” you said. “Drive.” She did as sirens began to echo towards the school.   

  *

You squeezed your eyes shut as Phil dug to get the bullet out of your stomach. The door to the safe house opened, you had half the mind to grab your gun but you heard Melina’s voice asking if Yelena was alright. Natasha and Maria walked over to you. You were only wearing a sports bra and jeans, sitting in the dining room. “She's gonna pull through, doc?” Natasha teased but you didn’t miss the concern in her eyes. 

“No exit wound,” Phil said, not looking up. “I have to get the bullet out before she heals.” 

“Super soldier serum,” you hissed. “We are giving it before graduation. Fuck, have you ever done this before?” You asked him. 

“Move out of the way before you do more damage,” Melina said, putting on gloves and taking the scalpel out of Phil’s hand. The agent moved out of the way, stealing a glance at Natasha. 

“Phil, go check in with Clint and see if he’s found anything,” he nodded, taking off his gloves. “Go talk to Yelena and get her statement,” Natasha hesitated but you nodded. She went to join the blonde on the couch. “I’ll be back to get your statement when you're all patched up.  

“Aye, aye, captain,” you gave her a salute. It was just you and Melina. You were surprised how gently her touch was when she tried to get the bullet out of your stomach. “I thought you didn't trust me,” you said. “Surprised you are allowing yourself in such a vulnerable position.” She got the bullet out and placed it on the paper towel. She cleaned the wound before stitching it up. 

“If you wanted me dead you would have killed me the moment I opened that door,” you chuckled. She wasn’t wrong. “Thank you for saving her.” She placed a bandage over the stitches.  

“No need to thank me,” you whispered. She took a step back and looked at you. Even with the serum rushing through your veins, it didn’t hide your scars. Each scar had a story, a name behind who gave it to you. These scars that littered your body were from other Widows during training, from Dreykov, and a few from your hand. You hated how small you felt under her eyes. 

“Where did you get this one?” She asked, touching a scar on your shoulder. 

“I got hit that night flying the plane,” you stood up, winching as you felt the stitches move. The serum would have healed soon. You helped her clean up the medical supplies. “Still managed to fly to Cuba much to Alexei’s disappointment.” You walked into the kitchen, throwing away the trash. Natasha and Yelena were on the couch and you found a new shirt resting on the back. You put it on. “Only thing that kept me going was your and their voice.” You continued. You rested your hand on Yelena’s shoulder, she looked up at you. “Are you okay, malen'koye solnyshko (little sun)?” She nodded. 

“I am. Thanks to you,” you kissed the top of her head before heading back into the kitchen. Natasha and Yelena followed you. You were surprised by how hungry you were. 

“The entire flight I thought Alexei was going to shoot me. I’ve never seen him so angry,” you continued unsure why you were telling them. The words kept following you. “Want a sandwich?” You asked them. Melina and Natasha shook their heads but Yelena let out a quiet, “Yes, please.” “When we landed in Cuba, I stood in front of Dreyokv, Alexei behind him, and guards circling us with their guns drawn. I stood there, unarmed, with a bullet hole in my shoulder.” You cut Yelena’s sandwich in half and placed it in front of her. You began to make your own. “Dreyokv asked where you guys were and I said I didn’t know. Alexei said he’d deal with me,” you felt a chill down your spine. “But Dreykov stopped him and said he knew how to handle me.” You turned your back to them so you wouldn’t have to see their expression. 

“What did he do to you?” Melina asked. You closed the fridge, no longer feeling hungry. 

“What didn’t he do to me is the better question,” you walked back over to them, eyes glued on your sandwich. You didn’t want to go into too much detail. Yelena was still so young and you didn’t want to taint her view of the world. “I was his malen'kiy pauk (little spider). He wanted to break me but I wouldn’t break.” You took a bite, it tasted bad but you knew you needed the energy. You glanced up at Melina. Her expression was hard to read, it was a strange mix of anger, sadness, and guilt. You shrugged. “But once he’s gone, everything will go back to normal.” You finished the sandwich and put your dish in the sink. “I’ll be in the room Maria gave me if you need anything.” You quickly left, closing the door behind you. Resting your head against the wooden door, you let out a shaky breath and closed your eyes. You could feel his hands on you as you knelt in front of him or one of his advisors. The blood that covered your hands was because of that man. But you weren’t the only one trapped and hurting because one man believed he was God. 

*

“We found this,” Clint said, placing a piece of paper on the table. 

“What does it say?” Fury asked. He was videoing in for this meeting. 

“Come home, malen'kiy pauk (little spider),” Natasha said. Your sisters and Melina looked at you. You leaned back in the chair, hand on your chin. He wanted you back. Time and time again, he told you you were his most prized possession. 

“Okay,” you finally said. “If he wants me then he can have me. We can use it as a trap.” 

“There is no way it will be that easy,” Clint said. It won’t be. But you were done with this cat-and-mouse game you were playing. 

“It won’t be,” you said, standing up. “He could have sent Widows much stronger than he did but he didn’t. Everything that man does has a purpose.”

“What was his reasoning?” Maria asked. You put your hands on your hips. 

“To prove a point,” you whispered. “It said that no matter where we go or what we do he has the power to find us,” you faced Fury. “Dreyokv’s daughter is our way to him and we know she’s in Budapest. I’ll end it there.”

“No,” Melina said. Your head whipped to look at the older Black Widow. “You aren’t doing this alone.” 

“She’s right,” Natasha added. “We’ll help you take him down.” 

“Alright,” you looked back at Fury. “Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow.” 

*

A plan was made and you were folding your clothes into your duffle bag. You found the photo strip and you picked it up, sitting on the bed. You remembered that day so clearly. Melina and Alexei brought you and your sisters to the mall to get school supplies. You pleaded for a few quarters to do the photo booth. In the end, it was Yelena’s puppy dog eyes that caught them breaking. “I’m sorry,” you looked up to see Melina. The apology sounded so strange coming from her. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back for you and wasn’t strong enough to save all three of you back then,” you stared at her, mouth open slightly as she walked in and sat down. “I cycled through the Red Room so many times before you were even born. For the longest time, those walls were all I knew and I was never given a choice. Until a 14-year-old girl gave me one,” you smiled, whipping away a tear that fell. “Natasha and Yelena were all I had for the longest time and I’d do anything to protect them.” You nodded. 

“I get it,” you whispered. “I’m disposable.” Melina’s eyes grew wide.

“No, dorogoy (sweetheart), you are not,” she cupped your cheeks in her hands, pushing the tears away that fell. “You are…” she paused. “Everything. You are the reason I am here, the reason Yelena gets to graduate high school, and the reason Natasha won’t admit her feelings for Maria,” you laughed at Melina’s jab at your sister. “So, thank you. Even though it’s been a long time, you are still part of this family. Okay?” 

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding your head. You whipped away your tears. “What happened to me wasn’t your fault.” She frowned, looking down at her hands. 

“Why does a mouse born in a cage run on that little wheel?” You didn’t know the answer or if she wanted you to respond. 

“But you aren’t a mouse, mama. You were just born in a cage but that’s not your fault.” Melina scoffed, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“Tell me, how did you keep your heart?” It was your turn to think over what she said. You smiled. 

“Pain only makes us stronger,” you quoted her. It was a common phrase thrown around in Ohio. But the strongest memory of it was the night you left. Yelena was chasing you and Natasha and she fell and hurt her knee. “Didn’t you tell us that? What you taught us kept me alive.” 

*

You were up when you heard a soft knock on your door. Standing up, you opened the door and saw your two sisters. “Is everything okay?” Natasha looked nervous, shifting her weight. Yelena rolled her eyes. 

“Can we sleep in here tonight?” Yelena asked. “With the shooting and everything that is going on, we're scared and worried.” You smiled, stepping out of the way so they could come in. After closing the door, you joined them. Yelena was in the middle, you, and Natasha on either side of her. It was how you would lay back in Ohio. “We’re gonna be okay, right?” You stole a glance at Natasha. 

“Of course, we will be,” you said, running your fingers through her blonde hair. It was a dangerous promise. 

“Because we’re together,” Natasha looked at you with a smile. 

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Sometimes in our lives, we will have pain and sorrow but if we are wise we know that there’s a tomorrow.” Yelena smiled. 

“Lean on me. When you're not strong.”

“I’ll be your friend. I’ll help you carry on.” Natasha added. Like when Melina told you that pain only made you stronger, it was common for you to say a phrase or two when your sisters were struggling with nightmares or in school. You were surprised they remembered it. 

“Exactly,” you said. “Now, we need to get some sleep. We have a busy few days ahead of us.”    

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 2-The Prodigal Soldier Returns

Summary: The day of the Super Solider Serum infusion arrives, and you may or may not emerge as the next gender bend Captain America. Either way, you survive Howard Stark’s experiment, and carry the torch supporting and defending the Constitution of the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic…and possibly intergalactic.

58 years later, Nick Fury and agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. discover Steve Rogers still alive and cryogenically preserved in ice. Rogers is returned immediately to New York for rehabilitation and recovery from his 66-year slumber under ice. When Steve is finally acclimated to his new 21st century life, he eventually bumps into you at the compound.

Author Note: Steve Rogers x Female!Avenger, Captain America x Female!Avenger, Y/N, L/N=Wolf, Reader!EnhancedAvenger, Avenger name She-Wolf, Avengers, Marvel movie references, Howard Stark, Maria Stark, Peggy Carter, Nick Fury, Agent Phil Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D., story begins in 1953 ends in 2011, Military and Medical terminology, Pre/Post Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre Avengers

*Bold Italics represent character thoughts and flashbacks

~~~~~~~~

1953

The lab room suddenly became chaotic. Alarms started to sound off on the heart monitor connected to the Vita-Ray Chamber and red warning lights flashing. Your face began visibly wincing from pain in the window of the encasement you were locked into.

The serum made your blood pressure spike, edging you close to what could be a heart attack.

“Howard! Cut the infusion! Her heart rate is dangerously high!” Peggy called out over the commotion of white lab coats running around.

Howard Stark began to rush over to the main controls to shut down the serum transmission when he suddenly heard your voice through the container.

“NO! Keep going!” You pushed. You’ve worked too hard to stop now.

Peggy and Howard exchanged concerned glances.

“Stark, she’s only at 70% completion. If she’s already struggling now imagine what will happen to her at 100%.” Peggy cautioned.

Howard looked at the serum percentage meter indicating how much of the I.V. was imported into your blood stream. The meter continued to rise… 75%...80%...85%...

He glanced at your face in the viewing window of the chamber. Your eyes shut tight; jaw clenched doing your best to not black out.

…89%...90%...

“Stark??” Peggy yelled.

Your heart can take no more. Your heart rate reaches its limit causing you to go limp inside the box.

“Shut it down!!” Howard called out as he raced to the Vita-Ray Chamber door to force it open as fast as he could. Peggy joined him to assist.

You had flat lined. The sound of a steady drone from the heart monitor filled the room.

The extreme heat of the chamber had expanded the metal from within, making the door almost impossible to open.

One of the lab coats brought a crowbar to pry the latch. After a little bit of muscle and leverage, the door sprung open. Steam projected outward overflowing the room, blocking the view of you. Howard and Peggy began fanning the air so they could see you.

There you were, still vertically strapped in, head resting on your shoulder, eyes closed…still not breathing.

“…Howard.” Peggy said with breathy distress while looking at you.

Howard walked up to your lifeless form, placed two fingers to your carotid artery on your neck to locate a pulse. As soon as he pressed into your skin your eyes sprang wide open.

You gasp loud and harsh, frightening everyone in the room, causing Howard to fall backward into Peggy.

Exceptionally confused and panicked, your eyes darted side to side trying to get a grasp on what had just occurred. As the heart monitor machine came back to life beeping frantically, the lab started humming again, everyone calling out results and observations over eachother from their stations.

“Heart rate is detected and, on the rise…”

“Oxygen levels at 100%…”

“Blood pressure is getting high, Mr. Stark…”

“Her muscle mass increased by 70%!!”

“If we don’t calm her down, she may go into shock, Agent Carter…”

Peggy took the initiative.

“Everyone, simmer down!” She commanded the room. All the lab coats froze.

She walked over to you and in a soothing tone, spoke to you.

“Y/N, you’re going to be alright. The experiment was a success. You did it.” she said calmly.

She held your face firmly between her hands, so you focused on her. Your breath was short and fast as Peggy continued.

“Deep breaths, Wolf. In…” She inhaled with you.

“Out.” She exhaled with you.

You repeated this until you finally relaxed.

Howard approached you. “Y/N, how do you feel?”

You took a minute to assess yourself.

You noticed your white pajama set was suddenly quite snug. Some parts were even torn especially in the shoulder and thigh area. The hem of your pants that once hung closer to your feet were now shorter revealing your ankles and calves.

“I feel…taller?” You respond first. “And sweaty.”

Stark’s mouth curved into a triumphant grin. The serum worked. And it showed.

Your body was evidently more toned, developed muscles straining against the fabric of your white outfit. Pants now hanging at your calves instead of below your ankles, you’ve obviously grown at least 5 inches. You were a colossus compared to former your self.

Howard offered his hand to help you out after releasing the safety harnesses, but you stumble out like a newborn giraffe as both he and Peggy catch you before you hit the ground.

“Get a wheelchair over here now!” Stark called out.

He looked back at you. “This is the beginning of something big, Y/N. You are going to be part of some of the greatest stories in America’s history.”

You only nod at first since you are too weak to be excited about anything yet.

“Mr. Stark, I’d like to take a nap first if you don’t mind?” You finally responded.

The room chuckled in unison.

~~~~~~~~

2011

You spent the next 58 years battling local crimes in New York, and eventually deploying overseas mostly assisting medical squadrons or rebuilding critical structures for allies and joint forces in combat zones. You were utilized during conflicts such as The Vietnam War, Desert Storm, and The Global War on Terrorism. You were especially useful during Operation Iraqi Freedom clearing potentially hostile locations with Special Forces and patrolling with convoys to secure safe passage for American military to travel.

The Super Soldier Serum’s organic preservatives left you looking and feeling your best since the infusion in 1953. You didn’t look or feel a day over 25 in over five decades because of it. However, you were only able to withstand 90% of the serum’s deposit, therefore you weren’t at full potential of your superhuman capabilities, unfortunately. Nonetheless, you were still a success story in Howard Stark’s eyes.

Sadly, in December 1991 while you were tasked to a recovery detail in Eastern Europe, you returned to American soil to be met by an Agent Nick Fury with grave news. Howard Stark and his wife, Maria, were killed by a HYDRA assassin while you were away. This information absolutely ruined you. You didn’t take Howard’s death very well. You progressively became a shell of your former self, sinking into a depressive state. Since then, you became quite an introvert and kept a low-profile spending most of your time at the gym, in the library reading, or in your sleeping quarters.

Through it all, you still led a life of service to your country when called upon in memory of your surrogate father. Nick Fury assumed command of S.H.I.E.L.D. by this time and took you under his wing, making sure to commission you with new assignments to continue Stark’s legacy.

Even though you were one of Howard’s greatest accomplishments in decades, a resurfacing discovery by S.H.I.E.L.D had the entire compound particularly energetic today. You were leaving the gym and noticed all the lab coats buzzing back and forth whispering to eachother. You also hadn’t seen Fury in a few days, which was unusual because you would usually get a debrief from him of your assignments every night for the following day.

As that thought crossed your mind, he appeared before you.

“Y/N, just the woman I’m looking for. Come with me.” He ushered you down the hall.

You were utterly perplexed, but continued to follow him down the halls having no idea where he was taking you.

“Director Fury?” You began.

He continued walking at a brisk pace. “Hm?” was his response.

“Forgive me if I’m not up to speed on what’s happening here, but….”

You tread lightly about asking too many questions because Fury’s mind was obviously busy, and you weren’t sure if he was really listening to you. You pause as you arrive at a long observing window that peered into what looked to be a hospital room. He gestured towards the window.

“Have a look for yourself.” He invited.

You walk up to the glass and look through. In the hospital bed laid a man peacefully asleep.

Your heart stilled as you stared at this alluring stranger.

He had a thick head of blonde hair, disheveled strands laying softly across his forehead. A chiseled jawline, perfect nose, flawless skin, and the longest lashes any woman would be jealous of. And dear God, arms that look like they could crush concrete.

You stood there with your mouth agape staring at this brawny, angelic creature in front of you.

Fury tilted his head to the side observing your reaction. He was mildly entertained by your moment of shock that rendered you completely speechless.

“You know who this man is, Y/N.” He finally tells you.

You shake your head to snap out of your hypnosis. You look at Fury and raise an eyebrow at him. Clearly indicating you didn’t understand.

“Is that a question or a statement, sir?” You ask.

Fury chuckled as he continued.

“This, my friend, is the one and only Steve Rogers…TheCaptain America.” He explained.

You narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief.

“But sir…” You began.

“Yes, I know, but we discovered him conserved cryogenically under ice a few days ago.” He explained.

You look back through the window.

“Alive? But…how?” You manage to ask.

“Well, blood tests revealed that his blood contained excessive amounts of glucose as a result of his liver processing his glycogen storage, thus lowering the freezing temperature of blood-borne water and creating a 'cryoprotectant'. This process is similar to those of hibernating bears and wood frogs that metabolize glycogen in their liver to circulate ample amounts through their body to reduce the osmotic shrinkage of cells and prevents them from freezing. This, however, has never been seen before in humans.” Fury explained in a ‘matter of fact’ manner.

Your confusion must have reflected on your face because he reiterated by simply saying,

“Howard Stark’s preservative components in the serum allowed Rogers to survive freezing temperatures.”

You nod, “I see. You could’ve just led off with that, sir.”

~~~~~~~~

With Captain America resurrected, the atmosphere at the facility completely shifted. Agent Phil Coulson addressed the public to officially confirm Steve Rogers’ return. Which was an absolute honor for him since he was a huge fan of Captain America and everything he represents. All the lab coats walking around were all a flutter about Captain America’s presence in the building…especially the females which made you utterly nauseous.

You, on the other hand, thought everyone was being overdramatic. You were particularly curious about what would happen next, though. What did this mean for S.H.I.E.L.D.? For America? Where did this leave you? Questions stirred relentlessly in your head for days. Every thought of what could happen next now that Steve was back didn’t have a good outlook for you no matter which way you spun it. These intrusive thoughts keep your brain busy, causing you to lose sleep at night.

You became very irritable with the few people you came into contact with throughout the day, so you decided to spend more time training in the boxing gym hitting the heavy bag. Fury frequently gave you direct orders to hit the showers and sleep it off, which you begrudgingly comply with out of respect.

Fury knew you were less than pleased by Steve’s return, and he was correct in assuming so. Your mental and emotional balance was already thrown off by the passing of Howard and Maria. Now you felt your livelihood hung by a thread because of the sudden homecoming of the prodigal soldier. You felt resentment and anger with every passing thought. And as assignments grew scarce, there were less deployments to redirect your attention leaving you with little to no outlet for your concentrated emotions.

One sleepless night, you once again find yourself hooking deep punches into the midriff of a 100 lbs (45.359 kg) Everlast boxing bag. Your hands only ever wrapped in sports tape, your knuckles are constantly bruised and swollen by the excessive number of times you spend pummeling the cylinder sack.

Sweat beading on your forehead and soaking through your shirt, hissing out loud every time each hand makes contact, you’re so deep in the zone surrounded by fire and wrath that you didn’t notice Steve had entered the room. He stood there watching you intensely while holding his gym bag in one hand, as he held a towel in the other. You deliver one final blow to the bag, sending it across the room like a projectile into the brick wall opposite you. You stood there panting, staring at the pile of other destroyed boxing bags that you’ve launched with your fits of physical rage.

“Wow.” Steve said impressed with a half-smile.

You turn your attention to him, meeting his blue eyes from where you stood. Your eyebrows furrowed still trying to catch your breath. You realize it was only him, so you turned away without responding, (not before pursing your lips together in disdain while rolling your eyes). You pick up your hand towel and wipe your face, then retrieve a new heavy bag, lifting with one hand effortlessly hanging it, replacing the one you just demolished.

Steve coughed awkwardly, sensing the thick air in the room between the two of you.

You started to stretch in front of one of the mirrors that had a ballet barre, completely disregarding the man behind you.

“We haven’t formally met yet.” Steve stated.

You let out an audible exasperated sigh. You barely glance over your shoulder, almost acknowledging him, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m Steve Rogers. Brooklyn. It’s good to finally meet you…”

His voice was smooth and resonating…Like honey. He spoke deep from the chest and his voice projected, yet he didn’t need to yell. His voice just traveled through the room to you like music and almost had you melting into a puddle.

“Get it together, idiot…” You told yourself.

You decided to remain cordial. Even though you’d rather not engage with him at all, it’s what Howard would’ve wanted.

“You know who I am?” You finally responded with your back still facing him.

“I know of you, yes. Word is you were my protégé after I disappeared.” He replied.

“Is that all that was said about me?” You asked.

“Of course not.” He assured confidently.

You turned around while dabbing your neck with your towel, then draped it around your nape holding each end with your hands. You looked at Steve and started to walk towards him. Steve was positively handsome, and although he appeared intimidating and confident, he still had little experience interacting with women…especially if he found them attractive. As the gap closed between the two of you, his heart proceeded to beat faster. Your supersonic hearing picked it up right away, and you relished the effect you had on him.

Steve tried to diffuse his ascending apprehension as you stood feet from him.

“Um,” he started to scratch the back of his head bashfully, “if you’re up to it, maybe you can show me around the compound sometime?” He suggested.

You raise your eyebrows and inquisitively squint at him. Your mouth involuntarily curled into a grin because he looks so stinkin’ cute standing there tensed up in suspense, holding his breath, waiting on your response.

“Sure, Cap.” You say curtly. Steve let out a sigh of relief.

“Wanna start tomorrow?” You ask him.

“Uh, sure.” He replied.

“Meet me here at 0800?”

“Ok!”

You nod at him, shoulder your backpack and breeze past him without another word, leaving him slightly stunned and bewildered.

He watched you leave until he couldn’t see you anymore.

“Phew…that was exhausting.” Steve said out loud to himself.

You chuckle to yourself because you were totally close enough to hear that.

You kind of felt bad messing with him, but you’re the one that has seniority here. Even though he’s older than you and is the original super soldier, he’s “the man out of time” having been asleep under ice for almost 70 years. The horrific things you’ve seen and experienced during those years have hardened your heart and you weren’t one to coddle anyone anymore. Not even America’s favorite poster boy from Brooklyn.

~~~~~~~~

At 0745, you walk into the gym and see Steve sitting on a stool in a corner of the boxing ring. You shoot a perplexed look at him and smirk.

“How long have you been here?” You call out to him.

He looked up.

“Long enough.” He said simply smiling back.

“Waiting to go a few rounds with me, Cap?” You ask almost too flirtatiously.

Steve scoffed then stood up.

“No ma’am, I would never hit a lady.” He responded.

“I’m no average lady, Rogers.” You replied sternly. You weren’t about to let him categorize or underestimate you.

Steve’s smile faded to a look of fascination and curiosity.

“Should we head out then?” You ask.

Steve nodded and exited the gym with you.

~~~~~~~~

“I never knew a place could have so many…levels.” Steve said as you walk off the elevator where the living quarters were.

Up until now, you were the only one residing in dorms. Now Steve shared this building with you but had his room in another wing. It had a common area, an impressive kitchen, dining and living room and a full gym on a separate floor.

“S.H.I.E.L.D. obviously spared no expense.” You stated.

Steve nodded in agreement. He continued to admire the surroundings.

“So? What do you think, Cap?” You finally ask.

Steve looked at you confused.

You gesture to everything around you.

“All of this. What do you think?”

Steve let out a puff of breath and looked around again in thought.

“Well…” He started “it’s going to take a lot getting used to.” He finished.

“Mmhm.” You hum.

He continued.

“But I’ll manage.” He added confidently.

“I sure hope so.” A voice rang out from across the living room area.

Director Fury stood at the doorway, then proceeded to walk towards you.

“Director.” You greeted as he approached. He nodded at you.

“I see you two are getting along just fine.” Fury said with an almost visible smirk.

You released a faint laugh.

“Y/N has been very hospitable.” Steve responded earnestly then looked at you with a soft smile.

You felt yourself blushing when your eyes met his.

“Snap out of it, you idiot.” You scold yourself.

“Good, because one day, you’ll need to work as a team.” Fury explained.

You snap your head at Fury with anger rising in your chest like lava.

“Director??” You ask almost with panic in your voice.

Nick Fury released an irritated sigh, rolling his eye before facing you.

“Y/N, we discussed this. Why do you insist on acting this is the first time you’re hearing this?”

“Because, sir, I never agreed to it.” You pointed out.

“Last time I checked, Wolf, my title is ‘Director.’ I don’t need your consent nor your approval.” Fury retorted in a very parental tone.

Steve just sat, arms folded across his chest while his eyes flitted between you and Fury like he was watching a tennis game.

“With all due respect, Director, I refuse.” You declared.

“Excuse me?” Fury dared you to repeat.

“I refuse.” You restated boldly.

Fury began to open his mouth to reprimand you until Steve cut in.

“Ok now this is escalating quickly.” Steve said while inserting himself between you and Fury.

“Director, perhaps allow Miss Wolf and I to build more rapport before talking about working in the field together? We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” He suggested.

Fury studied Steve, then looked at you.

“Fine. Understand this now, though, when you two are called upon, you will be responding…together.” Fury declared.

You only respond by crossing your arms. Fury turned on his heel and exited, leaving you there with this annoyingly reasonable and infuriatingly gorgeous super soldier.

~~~~~~~~

[nyx22-blogs]

To Loathe or To Love

You were a teacher at Winsford Highschool, a science teacher to be exact. You were currently walking to a meeting with your fellow teachers and the schools principal, Principal Coulson. You walked through to crowd of high schoolers going to their classes and made your way through the doors and into the meeting room.

"Hey everyone, is Phil here yet?" You said as you sat down next to Ms. Romanoff and Ms. Maximoff, who you knew as Nat and Wanda.

"No Mr. Hard ass isn't here yet so we can relax for a bit before everyone else gets in." Natasha said as she chuckled at her own name for him.

"Shh, Nat don't call him that out loud he might come in and hear you!" Wanda said, urging her friend to be a bit more cautious of her words.

"Relax Wan, we all know he's usually 4 or 5 minutes late for every meeting he hosts." Nat said rolling her eyes and she spun in her chair.

You giggled and rolled your eyes at your friends antics. Natasha could be so silly at times and Wanda was usually the one who played the mother hen of the group. You definitely wouldn't have it any other way though.

"So Nat..how was the date last night?" You asked her, she had told you and Wanda that she was going out on a date with the art teacher, Steve Rogers, and you hadn't heard anything about the date yet. To say you were curious was an understatement.

"Yeah! Tell us what happened!" Wanda said as you and her scooted your chairs closer to her.

"Ok ok, so basically we had dinner at his loft, which was decorated beautifully may I mention, and it was just so romantic. We talked and ate, and then he turned the lights down low and played some music and we danced and then afterwards when he twirled me he-"

"Hey ladies, Phil here yet cause I was wondering if-"

"NO!" You three said at the same time as the redhead went back to her story.

"And then he kissed me." She whispered and giggled.

"Awwwww how romantic." Wanda said.

"I know ... of course Steve was so romantic he's the freaking art teacher. He probably knew how to set up everything perfectly...like art-!" You said, slightly wishing you had someone doing that for you as well.

"Uhm hi, sorry for interrupting whatever is.. going on here but have any of you ladies seen Phil..or Steve for that matter. I have to ask him something." Said the man you loathed most. James Barnes. A nuisance he was, and idiot, and most importantly..an egotistical know it all, except he knew nothing. Stupid man.

"No, Mr. Barnes. We don't know where Steve or Phil are. Do you think we'd be here talking the period away instead going to them if we did?" You said condescendingly to James.

Nat and Wanda exchanged glances and sat down watching all the drama unfold. Unbeknownst to you your two best friends had been shipping you with the English teacher for quite some time.

But alas, Natasha and Wanda being the foreign languages teachers, you never knew their opinion about you and Bucky due to them always whispering it to each other in Russian or sometimes Sokovian.

"Well sorry y/n, I should've known you wouldn't be able to answer such a simple question in a civil manner." He said in a very irritated tone.

"You know what-" you got up from your seat but before you could continue Natasha put her hand on your shoulder, making you sit back down. You sighed and pulled out your phone so you could message Phil to see where he was. You realized you left your phone on do not disturb so you turned it off and saw you had an email from Phil.

"Guys I got an email from Phil, maybe he changed the meeting location..I'm reading it now..."

Your eyes widened in horror as you read through the message.

Attention all students and staff members, due to the health code violation 1019.1001 -asbestos, which was found in the laboratory, we will all be evacuating the building at approximately 9:50 a.m. Should there be any emergency, please contact school administration immediately. All classes are to be cancelled as well as faculty meetings for the rest of the week. Under no circumstances are any staff members allowed to stay within the premise of the school building. All closed doors and windows will be automatically shut down and locked immediately, and will only be reopened with staff keys.

-Sincerely

Mr. Coulson

"Holy shit!" You said as you ran towards the door and tried to open it.

"What's wrong?!" Bucky, Nat and Wanda all said at the same time.

"Oh my god everyone evacuated the school because of some asbestos in the building and now we're stuck in here." You said panicking as you tried to look for another exit in the room.

"WHAT?!" Natasha yelled.

"Oh my god, today was supposed to be the last day until break...we're gonna be stuck in here for a week?!" Wanda said while she shook Natasha's shoulders.

"Wait- wait a minute, why did y/n get the email late and everyone else left already? Even better question..why didn't any of US get the email?!" Bucky yelled.

"I didn't get it late I had my phone on do not disturb so my notifications wouldn't interrupt my lesson. Do you guys have your phone on do not disturb?" You said.

"Shit..I do." Bucky said.

"I do too." Wanda said.

"Same." Said Natasha as she groaned.

"Well...how the hell do we get outta here?" You said, kind of scared you all would be trapped in this goddamn school the entire break.

"I think the better question would be what the hell are we supposed to do while we're in here." Natasha said as she got up and walked further into the room.

"Nat? Where are you going?" Wanda said as she watched her friend walk away.

"The bathroom, I've been needing to pee for a while now and I can't do it during my damn classes so might as well now." She said as she opened the door to the bathroom and walked in.

"I didn't know there was a bathroom in the meeting room.." Wanda said as she opened her bag and pulled a snack out, she offered you and Bucky some..you both quickly denied.

"I'm going to see if there are any vents in this room." Bucky said as he got up and started looking around.

"What the hell do you want with a vent?" You said confused as hell.

Was he moronic?

"I see my theories of you living under a rock are correct. Haven't you ever seen a James Bond movie?" He said as he kept looking around.

"What the fuck does James Band have to do with anything?" You said getting irritated.

"Ok first of all, it's James BOND you abomination to fucking society. Second of all, if you've ever seen any of his movies, which I'm now learning you haven't, you'd know that when he was stuck in a room like we are he found a vent and climbed through it, which then led him to the door."

So he was moronic..

"You dumbass, you think the five by four vents in this room are gonna be big enough for one of us to fit in it? Hell, even I couldn't squeeze through one of those, and I'm the smallest out of all of us here." You said.

"Obviously I'm looking for a bigger one you idiot! Every room in this building is required to have a ventilation system that's at least 64 square inches. At least I think the bathrooms do.." he said as he scratched his head.

"Great..so we'll just go to the bathrooms then and-" You looked around the room and realized just how screwed you and Bucky were.

"Wanda and Nat are in the bathroom.."

"So? What's the big deal..let's the ladies relieve themselves.. Jesus." Bucky said chuckling at the odd amount of worriedness in your statement.

"Oh my god you're stupider than I thought, the email said that if the doors are locked then they lock permanently, which will include bathroom doors." You said, enunciating the last five words in your sentence.

This entire day was just turning out to be a shit show..

"Jesus Christ, now they're stuck in there. You think we can maybe break the lock?" Bucky said, worried that Nat and Wanda may be stuck in there for a whole week. He may not have liked you, because he really loved you, but he didn't want them to be stuck there the entire time.

Your phone started ringing and it was Natasha.

"Yeah yeah, before you say anything I know. You're stuck. We're trying to figure out- well I'm trying to figure out how to get you out of there. Idiot over here is just make dumb suggestions."

Bucky glared out you and you chuckled at the little pout on his face. It was cute..as much as you hated to admit it.

"Alright well, just get us outta here..Wanda's getting anxious without her snacks..and I really don't wanna deal with Wanda when she doesn't have snacks."

"Yeah yeah, don't worry we'll find a way to get you out sooner..or later.." you mumbled the last part of that statement and hung up the phone.

"That's heavy duty metal surrounding the door knob, I don't think so. Besides, we have to find another way to get out of here now..seeing as the whole ventilation thing won't work." You said, answering Bucky's previous questions before Natasha had rung you.

You we're contemplating if you should try and hit the lock with the fire extinguisher that was in the corner of the room.

"What do you mean? I thought we were gonna go to the bathroom and get to the ventilation system."

"Wanda and Nat are in the bathroom idiot. And. It's. Locked. Were you not here for like half of our conversation?"

"There's a men's bathroom too dumbass." He said as if it were obvious

"No there isn't, not in the meeting room anyway. It's just one big ass bathroom for every adult." You said

"That's dumb.." he said slightly annoyed that nothing was going right today.

You groaned and took a seat in one of the chairs, your head in your hands. You heard Bucky sigh and he took a seat next to you as well. You felt a large hand on your back, Bucky's hand, he rubbed your back up and down.

"We won't be here forever you know..it'll be ok." He said with a genuine smile..which quickly turned into a smirk as he said his next sentence.

"Besides, you'll get to be with my handsome face for the rest of the week." He said, laughing as you started to not so playfully smacking his arms.

"Hey..can I ask you something?" Bucky said as he took his hand and gently tilted your chin towards him.

"Yeah.."

"Why don't you like me?"

"Because you don't like me..?" You said confused.

"What-? No, you don't like me." He said.

This entire feud started because of miscommunication didn't it?

"No, you started making snarky comments towards me the first month I started working here."

"Yeah because you were pretty much a jerk to me doll." He said with a pained chuckle.

"What? What do you mean I was a jerk?"

"Well you showed interest in me in the beginning of the month when you worked here, pretty much lead me on, then when I bought you flowers and left em on my desk you threw em out and never even told me why."

"I- you bought me those?!"

"W- yeah, you didn't know?"

"NO! I- I thought they were from Brock.."

"Why would they be from BROCK?!"

"Because he was hitting on me in the staff room..and then told me you didn't like me..." You said, a bit ashamed this got so out of proportion.

"What- doll. God of course I liked you and- wait Brock was hitting on you?"

"Mhm." You said

"Son of a bitch, I should go knock his fuckin teeth out for all the issues we had to go through and-"

You cut him off by giving him a kiss on the lips. It was soft and slow and passionate and all the little things you needed to confess. His hand combed through your hair and the other wrapped around your waist. Both of your hands instantly wrapped around his neck and you both savored the teaste of one another.

"Hey guys there was an emergency key in one of the stalls and- WHAT THE FUCK-?" Natashas eyes popped out of her head as she witnessed the scene unfolding in front of her.

"YES! I knew it would happen eventually!" You heard Wanda say, and you giggled a bit at their antics.

"What was that about an emergency key Nat?" Bucky said, still a bit out of it from the kiss you two shared.

"Well there was an emergency key in a stall and I'm pretty sure it opens all locks."

"Finally! Let's get the hell outta here." You shouted and all of you ran to the door and Natasha unlocked it. You guys proceeded to unlock all doors in your way and you all finally made it outside.

"Well ladies, and man, it's been a pleasure but I should really go now..I gotta see a certain artsy blonde about something." Said Nat as she walked to her car saying her goodbyes and drove off.

"I should probably get going too, my Vis is probably worried sick!" Wanda said as she gave you a quick kiss on the cheek and said bye to Bucky. She got in her car and drove off as well.

"Who's Vis-?"

"Her husband." You said.

"Oh. Well uhm, do you have a ride..or-?"

"Oh no, I came without my car today..a ride would be nice thank you." You said sheepishly.

"Of course doll, c'mon." He said as he wrapped an arm around your waist and you both walked to his car.

"Hey uhm..would you like to come back to my place for some early dinner..? You don't have to say yes or anything I was just-"

"That'd be great Buck, as long as this isn't a one time thing..?"

"Definitely not doll."

"Well let's go!" You said as you gave him a small kiss on the cheek and you both walked to the car.

Fin

A/N: this was freaking long 😂 and I liked it..ish.

Please please please show me y'all actually read my crappy writing, like, comment, reblog. Revive me lmfao. It seriously helps with motivation ngl :) ❤️🧡💖

~Nyx

[sparkygurly227]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Phil Coulson/Melinda May, Phil Coulson & Melinda May Characters: Phil Coulson, Melinda May Additional Tags: Post-Relationship, Post-Canon, Pre-One Year Later, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, 100 ways to say i love you Series: Part 7 of SparkyGurl's Multifandom 100 ways to say I Love You Summary:

Multifandom 100 ways to say I love you

#7 - Coulson x May - I Dreamt About You Last Night

[fire-for-you]

this is where the rest of our life begins - PART SIX

|-<3-|

pairing - l. fitz x g. ward

rating - teen and up (for part six: mpreg, boys in love, alpha grant ward, omega leo fitz, a/b/o dynamics, aos season 1, established relationship, fluff, domestic fluff, implied sexual content, possessive grant?, a little angsty)

word count - 4,067

summary - fitzward and a little vaycay!! whooo! plus a surprise...maybe two surprises??

how far along is fitz - 20 weeks

|-<3-|

The next day...

Grant rapped his knuckles against Coulson's office door, Leo shuffling up behind him. "Come in!" The Omega inside called. Ward slid through the doorway, holding the door open for his boyfriend. They both sat in front of his desk, Grant crossing his legs. "Yes?" Coulson asked, slowly dragging his eyes up from his paperwork. 

The Alpha's eyebrows twitched down for a moment. "Leo and I were wondering if we could get some time off to go on a trip. Like, three days?" He started. 

Coulson leaned forward on his desk, crossing his arms. "Why?"

"I think Leo needs a change of scenery. He's couped up in the Bus all day and has developed an-" Grant paused, glancing at his Omega. "An aversion to blood."

Leo nods, looking at their superior. "Well, I never really liked it in the first place, but now that I'm pregnant, seeing blood just makes me sick."

Coulson didn't say anything for a beat. "Where were you thinking?" Grant spoke excitedly about a destination as Coulson grabbed a sheet of paper from a drawer. He filled out the form before sliding it over to Leo and Grant. They both initialed the bottom before Leo excused himself and rushed to the bathroom. 

"He alright?" The Omega asked, taking the handed-back form. 

"Just fine. Random urges to pee. At least I know he's drinking water." Grant stood, ironing out the wrinkles in his dark jeans.

The older man nodded. "When are you leaving?" 

"As soon as possible, I suppose. A rented car should be here in a few hours."

"Alright, well, have fun. Keep Leo safe and stay out of trouble." Coulson warned, his inner Omega still worried for Leo's safety with this older Alpha. 

Grant nodded, "Yes, sir." He pushed in his chair slightly and walked out of the room. 

--

A day and a half later...

Grant opened the cabin door, heaving heavily. He went straight to the fridge, grasping a cold water bottle and chugging it. His heartbeat slowed, and the brunette wiped his mouth with a sweaty hand. A bump from the bedroom made him pause, calling out, "Leo?"

The hairs on his neck stood straight in the cold silence before a weak "Help" was the reply. 

"Oh my god," Ward said, forcefully setting down the bottle before rushing down the hall. He found Leo sitting on the bedroom floor, his t-shirt riding up and tears falling down his pale cheeks. 

The Omega sniffed and put his hands in the air. "I slipped off the bed." This claim was confirmed by the bed scarf half on the carpet. "My back hurts." Fitz rubbed his eyes, lip trembling. "And now I can't get up!" He wailed. 

"Oh, baby." Grant cooed, grabbing some tissues from the nightstand and crouching before his boyfriend. The Alpha wiped at his tears, whispering sweet nothings to calm the scientist down. Leo sniffled again as he looked into Ward's deep brown eyes. The other smiled, tilting up the shorter's chin and kissing him. Grant licked his lips when he pulled away. "Mmm. Flavor?" 

"Cherry." The younger held up a tube of red chapstick pulled from his pocket. 

The Alpha hummed. "Makes you even more delicious." He got up, reaching down his hands for Leo's and pulling. 

They both worked Leo to his feet, Grant pulling Leo in for a hug. "Ah, Grant, you're too sweet. And sweaty." Leo wrinkled his nose, pushing Grant away. "God, take a shower." 

Ward dropped his mouth open in mock offense. "Hey, you used to like me like this. I saw you before we started dating. All the staring." Ward gripped the hem of his shirt, pulling it off. 

"Just...couldn't...help...myself." Leo swooned as his boyfriend stripped down to his boxers, looking at all of him. "How do you think I got this way?" He asked, gesturing to the growing bump of his belly. 

"Am I just that," Grant paused, striking a pose. "Irresistible?" 

Leo sat gingerly on the bed, giggling to himself, "I'm just here for the muscles; sorry, babe." He grabbed a book from the side table, shifting more into the center of the mattress. 

The brunette made an offended sound from the connected bathroom as the shower started. "Tell that to the 'I love you' you said earlier." 

"That was just because you made me a sandwich!" Fitz shouted over the running water. Eventually, the handle turned, and the pitter-patter ceased. Grant walked out, a towel around his middle and one in his hand, drying his hair, droplets of moisture dripping between his abs. 

Leo groaned when he looked up, "Okay, can you stop being sexy for, like, six months, please? Seriously the next time we have sex, I will get pregnant again, just because you're so damn attractive."

The Alpha laughed, "While I appreciate the compliments, babe, I'm sure the only reason you got pregnant this time is because the condom broke." 

Leo's face screwed up into one of confusion. "What? No, we didn't even have a condom. I also told you I hadn't gotten another birth control prescription yet. But you said it was fine." He stopped looking at Grant, rambling. "Yeah, we definitely had too much wine that night. Wow, you really 'knocked me up,' huh? How have we not had this conversation earlier?" 

Grant shrugged. "I guess we were talking about different encounters." 

Leo shook his head, sipping on a cup of decaf tea. 

Ward finished drying his hair and hung up the small towel on a hook. "Hey, um, I need to talk to you about something." 

"Alright, but you need to put on some clothes first." 

Grant rolled his eyes as he pulled on a shirt and basketball shorts, sitting beside his boyfriend on the bed. "I-" He stopped, taking a breath. "I really don't know how to say this." 

The Omega frowned, setting his tea and book down. "Are you breaking up with me?" 

"What, no. No! I'm not. It's worse than that. Just- don't interrupt, please?" Grant took a deep breath. "Do you know what Hydra is?" 

Leo's eyes narrowed, and ever the educated student, responded, "A terrorist organization from Nazi Garmany. Found the Tesseract and fought Captain America, yeah. Why?" 

"Well, Captain America destroyed it, right? During the end of World War Two?" 

The younger was growing uncomfortable. "Yes? Grant, what is going on? You're scaring me." 

Grant just blurted it out all at once. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is a lie. It's really Hydra, and I became Hydra when my old mentor, John Garrett, recruited me. I'm part of Hydra, Leo."

The cabin was silent for a good seven seconds. "What. What!" Leo picked up his book again and started hitting Ward over the head with it. The hardcover impacted with the other's skull loudly. "Why would you tell me that!" 

"I wanted to tell you before I told Coulson and the rest of the team!" He managed between hits. "Ow. Ow! Stop, Leo! I want to get rid of them!" 

Leo's eyes widened dangerously, and he increased the force of his beratement. "You want to get rid of the team?!"

"No, no. Baby, please listen!" Grant grabbed Leo's wrists, roughly pinning them above his head with great Alpha strength. He tossed the book to the side and knelt over his Omega. "I went to juvie for trying to burn my parent's house down. They abused me and my brothers. Christian-"

Ward's face turned to one of rage, releasing his boyfriend's hands and sliding off the bed. He faced the window, leaning against the wood-paneled wall. "My older brother would make me beat up my younger brother Thomas and- and- They sent me to a military academy. I was so mad I stole a car and drove home. I lit the place up, not knowing Christian was inside, and he almost burned to death. It's what he deserved. I got arrested, and he wanted me tried as an adult for the maximum sentence." Grant turned back to Leo, his eyes watery. "John came to the prison and talked to me, eventually breaking me out, to teach me 'how to be a man.'

"He took me out to the woods and then just left me there. For two months to survive on my own. He didn't come back for six." The Alpha glanced down at his wringing hands. 

"Oh, Grant." Leo pressed a hand over his rapidly beating heart, the conflicting feelings of anger and sorrow confusing the Omega. 

"Anyway, he came back and then taught me to be a cold-hearted killer. And I became loyal to him, and still am, I guess. But not Hydra. You softened me up, Leopold." Grant returned to the bed, cupping Leo's face and kissing him gently. "I'm loyal to you, my Omega, and now I'm loyal to our pup. And that outweighs everything. I love you, and I want to take down Hydra with you." 

The brunette's tears fell against Fitz's cheeks as Leo pulled him in again, gripping Ward's wrists to press their mouths back together. 

"God, sure, sure, baby." 

-

Leo wetted his lips as Grant set the pizza box on the table. He sat opposite the dirty blonde. "Hey, how about the zoo tomorrow?" 

"The zoo?" Leo asked, the box already open and a large slice in his mouth. 

The Alpha chuckled quietly, pulling a piece of pizza onto his plate. "Yeah, I never got to go as a kid, and I've always wanted to see a polar bear." He twirled some of the stringy cheese on his finger. Leo looked at him disgustedly as his partner picked up a fork and knife, cutting into a slice. 

"What?" Grant said around a bite. 

"Why are you eating it so..." The Omega struggled to find a word. "Properly?" 

"What are you talking about?" The brunette's eyebrows pulled together. 

"You are one of the least-mannered people I know, and you're eating your pizza with a fork and knife." Leo crossed his arms as he sat back in his chair, a smile playing on his lips.

Grant set down his silverware. "Am I not allowed to have some class occasionally?" 

Leo snorted. "Class? For one, not one minute ago, you were talking with a full mouth. And, two, we're not in a fancy restaurant. There is no reason to do that if we're the only ones here." 

"I don't like the grease, okay?" He sounded embarrassed. Leo snickered across the table when Grant's eyes narrowed, and he tapped a napkin across the surface of the pizza. He started full-out laughing when Ward picked a piece of pepperoni off it. "Stop laughing!" Grant tried around a hard-to-fight smile. 

-

Later, after Leo had laughed at Grant while he ate half the pizza, after they got into a pepperoni fight, and after the dirty blonde curled up to his partner in the queen-sized bed, Leo brought up the zoo. "So, the zoo?"

Grant was tracing figure-eights into his Omega's skin. "Yeah, I know there's one around here somewhere. Could be fun." He replied quietly. 

Leo closed his eyes after a long day. "Okay. I want to look in the gift shop for one of those giant giraffes for her. I always wanted one when I went with my mom." His voice became more gruff as sleep seeped into it. 

The Alpha stopped listening after he heard, "Her?" 

Leo's eyes snapped open as he realized what he had said. "Oh- yeah. I looked at the letter." His face flooded with guilt. "I couldn't wait. I'm so sorry, Grant." He shifted to sit against the headboard, turning on the lamp before laying a hand on his bump.

Ward broke a smile, pushing the covers back and kneeling on the bed. "Sorry?" He said in bewilderment. "A girl? We're having a baby girl?" He whispered, pressing his palms against his Omega's womb. 

"Yeah," Leo nodded, his eyes welling up with tears. Ward sat up to hug him, kissing the side of his neck. "I can't wait." 

They held the embrace for a while, with Leo stroking his partner's back in comfort. "I guess we should get some sleep." Grant groaned, pulling away slowly. 

"Well, here." The dirty blonde reached to shut off the light and laid back flat on the bed, pulling Grant with him to lay on his chest. From this angle, the Alpha could hear his heartbeat, and in the deep quiet, he faintly heard their pup's as well. He shut his eyes and hummed in contentment.

--

"I guess it's kinda weird for just two adults to go to the zoo," Grant said to Leo as he smiled at the attendant and walked on. 

Leo scoffed. "Nah, zoos aren't just for kids. Some of them have those ski-lift thingys." 

"'Thingys?' Did Doctor Leopold Fitz just use the word 'thingys?'" 

Grant laughed as his Omega lightly hit him on the chest. "What would you rather I say? Apparatus? Mechanism? Phenomenon?" 

"Alright, alright." The brunette's hand slid into Leo's as they walked toward the first exhibit. "Let's go see the elephants." 

The pair looked at all sorts of exotic animals - flamingos from the Middle East, giraffes from South Africa, lemurs from Madagascar - and took pictures with all of them. Leo was struggling to keep his lunch down from the smell, so they cut the visit short and headed to the gift shop. 

"Hey, I'm gonna go find the bathroom. Are you alright?" Grant checked in with his boyfriend, some of the color returning to Leo's face after coming inside. 

The dirty blonde took a few careful sips of water, nodding. "Yeah, yeah, go ahead." His Alpha gently kissed his temple before walking away. Leo slowly explored the shop, searching for the one thing he had come for. Although the shop was small, it was packed with souvenirs. Leo passed T-shirts, small metal tokens, a half-broken set of matching coffee mugs, and finally, the stuffed animals. He crouches to look at the bottom shelf where the stuffed giraffes sit motionless. In the row of various sizes, he chooses the largest one. The seated giraffe is about two feet tall and soft as fur. The Omega snuggles it immediately and returns to standing. 

Leo hears muffled talking on the other side of the shop, recognizing his boyfriend's voice. He travels toward it and finds Grant and an older woman holding hands with a young pup. The pup is turned away from his grandma and is sucking on a lollipop. "Hey, babe," Leo says as he reaches the small group. 

Grant lights up when he sees his Omega and turns to the woman to introduce them. "Marge, this is my Omega. Leo, meet Marge-" Marge and Leo shake hands, exchanging knowing Omega smiles. "And Marge's grandson, Jason." The pup swivels his head at the sound of his name. The Alpha continues to talk to the woman as Leo squats down to Jason's level. 

"Hi, Jason, I'm Leo." The Omega puts on his best friendly smile, watching Jason fidget where he stands. 

Jason shyly smiles back, taking the stuffed monkey off his shoulder to play with it. "Leo." He says. 

"Yeah. How old are you, Jason?" The pup thinks for a moment before holding up six fingers. Leo gasps loudly. "Six?! I thought you were five!" Jason giggles, his bright blue eyes shining. 

Soon enough, Jason and Marge leave, the older woman wishing them luck and handing Grant a gift. In the car, Leo grabs the gift bag. "What did she give you?" He asks. 

Grant hits the turn signal, slowing down for a stop sign. "It's called 'Letters to My Baby.' It's full of prompts to write to your pup. I thought we could try it out. It sounds fun." 

"Okay." Leo flips through the horizontal book. He stops at the sixth prompt. "'Your first home was like this...' Oh, Grant. This is amazing."

The Alpha throws a smile at the passenger seat and laces their fingers together on the center console. "You're amazing." 

- 

"Leo, honey!" Grant called, adjusting his dress collar in the hallway mirror. "We're going to be late!" He can hear shuffling from the bedroom and then a whispered swear. Leo steps into the living room, his hair slightly ruffled and hands on his hips. The dirty blonde's button-up is half done, and he looks mildly disheveled. 

"Damn. Grant, have you seen my sweater? I swear I left it on a chair in the bedroom." Leo continues talking, moving around the small cabin and pulling up couch cushions. The Alpha has long stopped listening, only paying attention to the window of Leo's skin on display and how the tight fabric hugs his boyfriend's body: Leo's thin waist and starting-to-swell belly. The brunette's mouth has dropped open, and saliva floods it quickly. "Grant!" Leo shouts across the room, confused and worried about his Alpha's rigid stance. 

Grant very suddenly strides towards the other, sliding a strong hand into Leo's hair and pulling him in for a bruising kiss. Leo, startled, slowly reciprocates, grasping onto Grant's suit jacket. The Alpha backs them up, pushing his Omega's back against the wall. "What has gotten into you?" Leo whispers breathlessly when Grant breaks away. 

"Fuck, fuck," Is all Grant manages, desperately breathing in Leo's scent as he kisses down the Omega's pale neck. "Baby," He tries. "Baby, you look so hot. My pup in you- growing by the day." Grant sticks his leg between the shorter's thighs, rutting against Leo's warm figure. "So fucking... hot-"

Leo's jaw slacks, and his eyes roll back in his head. "G- Grant. Alpha-" 

The brunette growls, biting the skin by Leo's clavicle. "Say it again." 

Leo whimpers, his Omega's submissive side roaring up. "Alpha, Alpha, Alpha!" He chants. Grant grins, his canine teeth shining in the low light. 

-

A few minutes later, both pairs of men's pants had been changed, and Leo ran a hand through his hair, only adding to the mess of his curls. Despite their effort, the dirty blond's lips are still ruby red and kiss-bitten, a few hickeys now decorating his throat. Grant shows no evidence that anything happened besides a wrinkled shirt and a smirk.

When they approach the hostess's stand, her eyebrows raise, and her eyes widen. Grant laces his fingers with Leo's, smiling wider. "Reservation for Ward?" 

"U-um. Yes, sirs, please follow me." 

--

"Ah, the lovebirds return!" Jemma exclaims when Grant and Leo enter the Bus. Leo sighs, having missed his best friend. Grant leaves them with a kiss to Leo's temple and a wave to Jemma, making his way upstairs. "So," she starts, throwing an arm over her friend's shoulders and leaning in. "Did you get laid?" 

"Jemma! Oh my god!" 

She grins, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm just asking!" 

"You are so gross!" Leo continues. He sighs again, not able to keep from telling the Alpha everything. "Actually, yeah, I kinda did." 

Jemma squeals, pulling Leo into a chair and whispering, "Tell me everything." 

-

Meanwhile, Ward is upstairs trying to find Coulson. Looking up from her spot on the couch, Skye says, "Hey, how was your vacation?" 

Grant smiles, blushing slightly. "It was perfect. I-um. I think Leo and I really grew closer." 

"That's great, Grant; I'm so glad you're happy." 

"I am. Do you know where Coulson is?" Ward asks. 

"His office, why?" 

"Just need to talk to him. Thanks." 

Grant walks toward the Alpha's office, wringing his hands nervously. He sees Coulson as a father figure, just as anyone else, and he knows news like this could break Phil's trust. The door is ajar when Ward steps into the hall. He is just about to knock on the door frame when a voice calls into the silence. "Come in, Agent Ward." The brunette does, entering the office and standing awkwardly. 

"Sit, son." 

Grant slides into the nearest chair. "How did you know it was me, sir?" 

"Old man wisdom." Grant narrows his eyes and opens his mouth to disprove that theory. "I'm just kidding. May told me you two were back. How was your vacation? How is Leo?" 

The young Alpha breathes a sigh of relief, some tension sliding from his shoulders. "It was good. Leo is great. We went to dinner and the zoo. It was really nice." 

"That's good. I'm glad. Is there any reason you came up here, Agent Ward?" 

Ah, the inevitable. Grant shifts in his seat. "Yeah, to tell you we're back- and- S.H.I.E.L.D. is Hydra!" He exclaims. 

The room is silent for a beat. 

"I-I'm sorry, what was that?" 

"S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't S.H.I.E.L.D., it's Hydra. The Nazi organization, from y'know, World War Two?" 

Coulson's expression doesn't change. "Why are you telling me this?" 

Oh, right. Ward pauses. "Well, because, I'm part of Hydra, and we're kind of planning to take over the world." 

Coulson rises from his seat and walks around the desk. "So, you're telling me that a terrorist organization from over seventy years ago is planning to take over the world, and you're somehow part of it." 

"Yes, sir, and I know-" 

The Omega's fist connects with Ward's face, and he falls to the floor, unconscious.

- 

Hours later, Leo is getting ready for bed and realizes he hasn't seen his boyfriend for the better part of the day. "Hey, Skye," He knocks on the doorframe to her cabin. "Have you seen Grant?" She shakes her head, and Leo moves to leave. 

"Ask May or Coulson." Leo sticks his head back in the door. "They probably know." He smiles, waving at the Beta as he walks away. 

"Thanks!" 

He finds May up in the cockpit, reading up on some thug they just dropped off. "Hey, May, do you know where Grant is? I haven't seen him all day." She slowly looks up from her tablet, leveling him with an emotionless stare.

"Welcome back, Fitz. Agent Grant is in the Cage with Coulson." The Alpha turns back to her tablet, clearly done with the conversation. 

The dirty blonde exits the cockpit, his eyebrows drawing together. "Okay," he whispers to himself, holding the "o" for a moment. Leo makes his way towards the back of the plane. He pulls open the large door to find Coulson sitting across from a roughed-up Grant. 

Leo's head cocks, and he lets the door slip closed, trying to connect the dots. He rushes to his partner's side, gently turning his Alpha's bruised face towards his own. "My god, what did you do to him?!"

Coulson sits back in the metal chair, crossing his arms. "He is a traitor, Agent Fitz; he does not deserve any other treatment." 

The Omega blinks at him, appalled by the team leader's behavior. Pulling out a loose tissue from his jeans, Leo dabs at Grant's sliced lip. "He told you about Hydra, didn't he." 

"Something like that." The other Omega responds, the smell of anger filling the air. 

"You better stop that 'cause I can only imagine he didn't get to tell you the full story." Leo turns back to Grant, silently asking for permission to tell Coulson. Grant nods slowly, which doesn't help the pounding in his ears. "Grant had a... rough childhood." Leo flits his fingers over the other's swollen eye with a feather-light touch. With sorrow and gentle rage in his eyes, the Omega continues, "His older brother bullied him and his younger brother. His just-as-awful parents sent him to a military academy. And in a fit of I'd say justified rage, he went AWOL and burned his family home down. As Leo kept talking, but Grant could only focus on the love and acceptance of his past in Leo's eyes. 

When Leo finishes, Coulson asks, "And you believe him?" The Omega whips his head toward the brunette, as if the idea of not believing his boyfriend had never occurred to him. 

"What?" 

"Agent Fitz, if he's Hydra, he could easily have just fabricated that whole story." Coulson leans in, gesturing at Grant like he's a piece of meat.

Leo is silent, turning to his Alpha. Grant sees the small question on his face and breaks eye contact. "No. No, it's the truth. I believe him." Leo presses a chaste kiss to his partner's lips. 

Coulson sighs, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head. "Alright. If you believe Ward, I believe him too." Leo's face brightens, and their team leader moves to stand. "Let's get this party started."

you can also read this story here

|-<3-|

masterlist & other such things

|-<3-|

MCU masterlist

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| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

[halechief]

“If you ever utter her name again in my presence, I will cut out your tongue.” / this could be him talking to someone about Claire or to Claire about carol either way it's SPICY

𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓. @wristful :

❝  what would you have me do? ❞ the question lands heavily between them, delivered in something caught between a shout and a whisper, a stinging hiss that does not become her, she knows. her fingers have curled tightly into the fabric of her blouse, knuckles digging in against the dip of her waist on either side as she turns from him and paces in bare feet : she'd not been expecting him. more than that, she'd not been expecting him to pick this particular fight. ❝  the entire -- country, is saying her name. ❞ i should not have to remind you of this. ( they had been aligned in the first news cycle - she'd been determined to staunch the bleeding, to keep him from losing his head. now she wonders if she should have taken jane's advice. his advice. ) ❝  if i didn't know better i'd think you were being deliberately obtuse. ❞ you don't know better. you don't know anything.

❝ oh fuck off. if the press ask me a question i have to answer it. i don't know how many times you think i can say no comment, but it's less than whatever you're imagining. ❞ she turns back to face him then, her hands falling from her sides in time with the twisting of her torso. ❝  i do not have the liberty of being sensitive to your feelings on this, phillip. not anymore. you'll kill my reelection with this if i let you, and i think you know that i won't. ❞

[yelena-belovas-gun]

Overworked (Natasha Romanoff)

Summary: You end up working a little too much.

Natasha Romanoff x fem!engineer!reader

Warnings: Overworking, tension, stress, anxiety, sickness, fever.

Requested by the following bao bun: @splat-tasha

Translations: 1. Detka: baby 2. Malyshka: baby girl 3. Dorogoy: darling 4. Moya lyubov: my love

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

Honestly, working with S.H.I.E.L.D was very well paying, well-rewarding, and worth all the effort you put into it. You loved building things for the agents, coming up with new designs for weapons and bringing them up from graphite on paper into metal on gunpowder.

Natasha had to admit, though...you overdid it sometimes. You'd sometimes lose days of sleep over some new variation of a weapon, or while repairing a broken jet. Now, the bags under your eyes had pretty much become your personal accessory.

"Detka, please, don't overwork yourself..." she'd mutter against your hair as she cuddled your tired body after you'd finally let yourself rest.

"I won't, darling, I swear..." you'd mumble, but it would end up being a lie within the next two days, maximum.

This time, it went a little too far.

The entire day, you'd shown small signs that you were slowly falling sick from the amount you were working. Starting with your sudden loss of appetite, to blinking for a few seconds longer than any normal person would deem healthy.

"L/n, I need this ray gun fixed, asap," one of the agents said, handing you the said weapon. You shook your head to clear your foggy senses and nodded, taking it.

Later that day, Fury called you to his office and described a new kind of weapon they'd need for a stealth mission, and of course, you agreed to have the prototype ready within three days.

"Hey, Y/n, can you fix my pistols?" Maria asked you after that interaction, handing you a box. "For some reason, the safety isn't coming on on either of them since my niece messed with them, and I cannot have guns without a safety lock in the house..."

"N-no issue, Keya..." you mumbled, addressing her by the wrong name in your tiredness.

"Keya?" she raised a brow.

"Shit, sorry, I meant Maria..." you apologised, embarrassed. "I'm a bit tired, sorry. I'll have the guns fixed by tomorrow, no issue."

She smiled and thanked you, walking away.

You continued to walk around and work like a corpse, and felt the need for several cups of very strong coffee throughout the course of the day.

Natasha felt her gut telling her something was wrong, and decided to go and check on you.

And thank every merciful god that she did.

You were a mess, your workshop was like a hurricane hit it and it then got ransacked by an army of wild cats.

Nuts and bolts littered the floor, pages were scattered across two worktables joined together, grease stained the floor, and a concerning number of coffee cups were strewn around.

She heard the buzzing of a soldering iron and saw you at a worktable which had some of the surface visible. Your hands, which were normally so steady, were trembling, and you looked like you wanted to pass out as you fixed the safety lock of Maria's guns.

You got a phone call, and didn't notice Nat as you answered it, putting it on speaker.

"Hey, Y/n, it's Phil. Coulson," came the voice from the other line. "So, um, I know you fixed my car earlier this week, but I got into a bit of a scuffle...the engine's not starting up and I think I screwed up the oil tank while I was at it cause this bugger won't fill up at all."

You exhaled heavily, putting a grease-stained, and shockingly blistered hand to your forehead, making another black mark appear on your skin. "I'll come over tomorrow to look at it, Dave."

"...Dave? What the hell?" His voice sounded confused and irritated, making you click your tongue in annoyance and sigh.

"I'm sorry, that's the thirdtimetoday..." you muddled your words together as well, making him as you to repeat. "I said it's the third time I've messed up someone's name."

"No problem, just can you fix it?" He asked.

"Yeah," you bade him goodbye and cut the call, going over to your whiteboard, where an array of tasks and their deadlines were listed out.

Natasha was horrified to see how many of them were marked for each day.

"Y/n, what the fuck?" Natasha gasped, seeing your hand shake and seeing you screw up Phil's name spelling on the board thrice.

You turned around and gripped the edge of a chair for support. You had a headache, and now were too dizzy to stand.

"O-oh...h-hi, Tasha..." you smiled at her.

"Don't you 'hi Tasha' me, idiot!" She stormed over to you, but nevertheless took your greasy hand in hers tenderly. "Detka, you are so overworked..." she felt how cold your hands were and immediately checked your temperature.

Fever.

"And you have a fever!" She gasped, "Why didn't you tell me you were sick!?"

"I'm not sick...am I?" Your eyes widened as you looked at the board, panicking. "No, no, no, I can't fall sick! I have so many things to give by tomorrow!"

"Y/n," Natasha's voice was scarily firm as she held you in place, forcing you to look into her eyes. "I am taking you home, and you will rest, or else."

"But Tasha..." you whined, but she was having non of it.

"Moya lyubov, moya dorogoya," she sighed, petting your hair and speaking as if you were a five year old, "You need rest, otherwise you'll fall sicker. Now, go and wait in the car."

"...yes, Tasha..." you mumbled like a five year old, and walked off.

Natasha was like an angry mama bear as she stormed into Nick Fury's office.

"Nicholas Fury, how dare you run Y/n to such levels of exhaustion that she's fallen sick!" She exclaimed, seething. "She has a fever, she is literally stumbling around and surviving on unhealthy amounts of caffeine, and is mixing up people's names! How dare you treat her like a machine! she fixes machines, doesn't mean she is one!"

Fury sighed and remained calm in the face of the livid assassin. "Please, tell Y/n to keep her projects on hold, and that she has nothing to worry about because we will pay for this sick leave. Happy?"

"Very. Now if I ever see this happen again, I will commit murder, and it will be yours." She turned on her heel and stalked off, back to the car where you were.

She got into the driver's seat and kept you nicely warm in her jacket, till you both got home.

"Now, malyshka, please rest," she kissed your forehead and smiled after she'd tucked you into bed.

"Thank you, Tasha..." you mumbled. she lay beside you and gently stroked your hair, stopping after you fell asleep, and cuddled you to recovery.

Maybe overworking had it's own perks...

THE END.

[anika-ann]

Back and Forth - masterlist

Pairing: Steve Rogers x agent! Inhuman!reader

Type: enemies-ish to lovers series

Summary: Calling yourself an Avenger would be overstatement, even if you have been joining them on missions quite frequently lately. Calling them your friends would be an overstatement also. Calling you and Steve Rogers friends, now that would be an insult to the entity of friendship – though unlike him, you have enough self-awareness to admit that he isn't the only one to blame for that. Most of the time anyway.

However, the Avengers need your abilities and so you and Steve tolerate each other – or at least you’re trying, your back and forth visibly annoying your colleagues and exhausting you both.

And then you’re thrown into a situation where mere tolerance isn’t an option. That should end well, shouldn’t it?

Characters to appear: Steve Rogers, ‘reader’, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson, mentions of Phil Coulson, Daisy Johnson and few others

Setting: slight AU 'cause everyone lives thank you very much, no Civil War or further, references to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D without a fixed timeline

Warnings: besides canon-typical violence, this series deals with topics which might be trigerring for some people - please, read with caution and resposibility

Playlist 🎵 (NEW)

STORYLINE:

Prologue 

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3.1 // Part 3.2

Part 4.1 // Part 4.2 

Part 5 

Part 6.1 // Part 6.2

Part 7

Part 8

Epilogue 1 and 2

Extras (maaaybe)

Number of parts/chapters is estimated. Did I add one extra already? Yeah, but shhh

Dividers by firefly-graphics, moodboard by me - and created for the vibes, for it does not necessarily reflect the reader's appearance.

Taglist open 🥰

[rosepetalsinwinter]

Meant to Be — Bucky Barnes (7)

Chapter 7 — Mr. And Mrs. Barnes

Pairing: mafia!bucky x innocent!reader

Word count: 7,856

Summary: There is more than meets the eye, and Bucky is suspicious. What is everyone hiding?

Warnings: language, sexual innuendos, brief nudity? (blink and you'll miss it)

Note: Sorry, it's been a while. Enjoy!

Ao3│Wattpad│Ko-fi

Main Masterlist│Series Masterlist│Series Playlist

Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

"Today I know that such memories are the key not to the past, but to the future."

— Corrie Ten Boom

May 4th, 2018

He never understood what triggered it, but he found himself reliving it at odd times. The figure always sneaked up on Bucky in his dreams with an eerie silence, draped in shades of gray and brown.

"You really don't remember me?" the figure would taunt.

Bucky's responding grin was almost derogatory. "I'm sorry, am I supposed to?" He dismissed the flicker of familiarity attempting to crawl up his spine.

"You've changed."

He chuckled, deciding to humour the person. "Have I now?"

"You used to keep your promises."

"Did I?" Bucky slowly loosened the restraints behind his back, reaching for the concealed metal in his waistband. "You hit my head pretty hard earlier. I don't remember much."

"At least you kept your stupid sense of humour."

Bucky scoffed, spitting out the blood that pooled in his mouth from his bleeding nose. "You think you know me?"

"I do."

He shook his head. "You don't," he retorted. "You don't know me." The click of the safety turning off made them both pause. "And you never will." Years of training propelled him into action. The figure collapsed on the floor before the gunshot could reverberate through the room.

He stood tall over the lifeless form. "I always keep my promises."

May 4th, 2018

Bucky was beyond pissed. So far, his entire day had passed attending to one matter or another, making call after call instead of getting to know his wife. Not that she was in a state to talk.

Hmm, his little wife had been unconscious for nearly eighteen hours since she fainted in church. Bucky would have been seriously concerned if it weren't for the French maid and her reassurances. Fran—was that her name?—had informed him that the girl hadn't slept properly in over a week. Stress, she claimed, though Bucky suspected a deeper meaning behind the word. The way the maid narrowed her green eyes and tilted her reddish-blonde head hinted at something more.

The mobster took large swigs of Scotch straight from the decanter. Earlier, when the flight attendant came by to pour him a glass, Bucky had unleashed his rage, barking at him to leave the whole thing and disappear. He was in no mood for small talk.

A pounding headache throbbed in Bucky's temples. The entire day had been a whirlwind of problems. First, waking up to discover Phil Coulson dead. Dealing with Rollins' men—though that was stress relieving, at least.

Then, being brutally attacked outside the church, resulting in the need to dispose of the body in the East River, where the strong currents would erase any traces of foul play.

And let's not forget the spectacle that was his wedding. Fuck. The fucking wedding. And the shitshow that followed after. Bucky had so many questions. So many things he needed to address.

He hadn't been married a day, and already his wife was causing him problems. Bucky was exhausted, drowsy, and to make matters worse, he was overwhelmingly aroused.

With a scowl, Bucky downed the last of his Scotch, then glanced at his watch to see if he had enough time to address his growing... predicament.

He didn't.

They would reach Constanţa in half an hour, the estate in one. Bucky couldn't wait. Suddenly, his phone lit up with an incoming call, causing him to huff before ending it. Not even a minute passed before Danial Burgundy's caller ID appeared again. God, the man was persistent. After ignoring twelve calls, he still tested Bucky's patience.

"What do you want, you sick fuck?" Bucky answered impulsively.

The man on the other end sounded amused. "Hello to you too, James."

"Cut the bullshit, Danial. I'm in no mood for small talk." Danial was the last person Bucky wanted to talk to, especially after their conversation in New York. The older man was lucky he was Bucky's father-in-law now, or he'd already be six feet under.

"Right. Straight down to business then," Danial sighed. "I want to speak to my daughter."

Bucky scoffed dismissively. "No ace."

Annoyance tinged Danial's response. "Don't tell me—"

"She's taking a nap," Bucky interrupted. "She can't talk right now."

"I don't fucking believe you, James."

"I don't care." Bucky didn't give a damn about what Danial thought of him.

"Listen, asshole," Danial began losing his temper, "I know you've always been a good-for-nothing motherfucker, but—"

"Is that why you gave her to me?" Bucky taunted, a sardonic grin on his face. "Is that why you gave me everything?" That seemed to silence Danial, at least for the moment.

"Because I'm a good-for-nothing motherfucker?" Bucky chuckled, acknowledging a minor defeat. "I'll admit, you caught me off guard before with the stipulation you threw in my face, but don't think you have the upper hand here." Adrenaline coursed through Bucky's body as he further provoked Danial. "I got what I wanted. I didn't even have to work for it. You handed it to me on a silver platter." He prepared himself for the final blow. "In fact, I've already begun fulfilling that condition of yours." Bucky clicked his tongue. "No complaints so far. She's amazing."

"You bastard!" Danial exploded.

Yes, Bucky was being vulgar. Danial had forced his hand to leave for their honeymoon two days earlier, and Bucky didn't appreciate it.

He hushed Danial. "You'll wake her up. I tired her out. She needs all the rest she can get."

And there it was, the silent row of defeat. Danial sighed, audibly distressed. "She's still my daughter," the coward insisted.

"No, she's not," Bucky retorted, not to mock but to state a fact. He shrugged nonchalantly. "She's not yours. Not anymore. She's mine. She became mine the second I signed your papers."

"You Barnes' have always been greedy," Danial sneered. "Wanting what's not yours. Not giving a shit who gets hurt in the process. Fucking murderers."

"And you Burgundys have always been manipulative bastards," Bucky spat. "Pulling underhanded shit. Whoring out your women for a quick buck."

"You little—"

"Then that's exactly how I'll treat her. Like a slut, a fucking whore."

Danial's breath hitched on the other end of the line.

Bingo.

"No! Wait, no! Barnes, don't you fucking dare! Don't you dare fucking touch her—"

"Leave me the fuck alone."

Bucky ended the call.

The moon hung low in the sky, making way for the impending sunrise in a couple of hours. Bucky tossed his phone onto the seat opposite him and turned his attention to the porthole, gazing out at the soft glow beginning to fill the horizon.

They should be flying over Pitești by now, en route to Constanța. It felt good to be back home. Bucky stretched his arms above his head, contemplating Danial's reaction. If he didn't know any better, he might have mistaken Danial's tone for genuine concern about his daughter. Fortunately, Bucky knew better. With most of Danial's cards laid out on the table, Bucky would respond accordingly, starting with his bride.

Suddenly, the cabin door opened, causing Bucky to whip his head around, prepared to unleash his anger on the intruder. It was his bride, leaning against the entrance of the small bedroom at the back.

She still wore her wedding dress, barefoot and breathing heavily, cheeks flushed and hair rumpled. Her gaze wandered around the cabin in a daze, clutching the door frame in a white fist when the plane encountered slight turbulence.

"You're awake," Bucky broke the silence.

Her eyes scanned the surroundings as she took in their location. "Where am I?" she croaked.

Bucky frowned, realizing she must be thirsty. "Sit," he commanded instead of answering. His wife blinked owlishly, staring at him as if he had grown another head. A faint smile threatened to emerge. "Don't make me drag you here," he muttered. "Because I will."

His wife snapped to attention, unsteadily walking across the aisle, leaning against the empty seats for support. The image stirred something pleasurable in Bucky's mind. She halted across from him, hesitating to sit when she noticed his phone perched precariously on the edge of the armrest.

When Bucky reached over to retrieve the device, he let his arm brush against her leg. It was a gentle graze against the white lace that, nonetheless, left her flustered. Bucky smirked, savouring the sound of his wife's hitched breath.

The girl slowly lowered herself onto the brown leather, almost robotic in her movements. Her back remained rigid, and she wouldn't look at him. Why wouldn't she look at him? Bucky didn't like that. The table separating them was the only thing preventing him from reaching over and forcing her eyes to meet his.

Bucky pressed the overhead call button, his gaze fixed on the girl. He noticed black smudged under her eyes and lipstick smeared around her mouth. How many hours had it been since the ceremony? Too many and not enough. Her features appeared more striking in the natural light than in the harsh illumination of the church.

And there, when her eyes flicked up ever so slightly at the sound of the call button, Bucky recognized that same dead look from before, the one she had when he leaned in for a kiss that never happened because she fainted. It was more subtle, tamped down, but still present, difficult to ignore and even harder to comprehend.

Bucky summoned the flustered flight attendant and ordered food, water, and another Scotch. He may not have been hungry, but he assumed she was.

"Drink," Bucky pushed the glass of water toward her. She was playing with her fingers, gaze fixed on her lap.

"Where am I?" she breathed.

Bucky frowned when she didn't immediately comply. "Drink," he demanded with more force, pushing the water closer. He watched as she brought the glass to her lips with trembling hands and took a small sip.

"Where—"

"More," he interrupted with dissatisfaction. She was an impatient one.

Bucky thought he heard her huff in annoyance but disregarded it as she began to take hesitant sips that soon turned into large gulps, causing water to trickle down the sides of her mouth.

The glass was empty within seconds.

"We're in Constanța," Bucky answered her earlier question.

She looked up at him in surprise, eyes wide and lips parted. Bucky was hit with a sudden urge to kiss her.

"Excuse me?"

"Constanța, Romania," Bucky clarified. "I have a family house in Mamaia. We'll be landing in ten minutes."

Bucky leaned back in his seat and sipped his Scotch, raising an eyebrow at the girl's obvious shock. The slight burn of alcohol felt pleasant, immediately relaxing him.

She glanced around the cabin, blinking owlishly. She seemed flustered. "I don't have—" She took a deep breath. "Why are we in Romania?"

Bucky couldn't help but smile. "Why do you think? What do newlyweds usually do after getting married?"

He waited for the realization to dawn on her, watching as she trembled and shied away. Bucky wondered how experienced she was if a simple innuendo left her so flustered. He couldn't wait to find out.

She still wouldn't look at him.

"Where's my father?" the girl asked, her question directed at the floor.

It appeared the Burgundy princess was close to her last remaining parent. "Danial?" Bucky sneered, unable to suppress his annoyed scoff. "In New York, where he belongs."

She seemed taken aback. Her lips parted, and she straightened her posture in attention.

Bucky narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Why?"

Flustered, she started to answer but then froze, her eyes wide with an emotion he couldn't quite discern. She shook her head furiously. "Nothing."

Bucky's suspicion grew tenfold. He was ready to interrogate her, but she interrupted him.

"And my friend?" she asked desperately. "Where is she?"

"Hmm," Bucky mused. "The blonde with the big mouth?" He missed the expression on her face as he finished the rest of his drink. "Dove, was it?"

"N-no," the girl denied. "She's French."

It took a second for Bucky to recall, and once he did, he couldn't help but smile.

"The French maid? She stayed with you after the ceremony. I talked to her about—"

"Well, is she here?" the girl cut him off.

Bucky met her eyes, and the second he did, she averted her gaze. Acting on instinct, he reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You interrupted me."

He watched as her breath quickened and her irises dilated. Bucky waited for a verbal response, but she remained frozen, struck dumb by his intimidating presence. "You're lucky you're cute," Bucky said, finally releasing her.

She seemed to deflate the second he retreated from her personal space and mirrored his relaxed posture, melting into her seat as if suddenly drained.

"Eat," Bucky ordered, pouring a finger's worth of Scotch into his glass and pushing it toward her.

An indescribable tension filled the air, an unspoken awkwardness. Which was to be expected, Bucky supposed, since this was their formal introduction. The girl shook her head. "I'm not hungry," she whispered.

Bucky downed the rest of his Scotch, keeping his gaze fixed on her. Her discomfort in his presence was palpable, incredibly aware of him with how she uncomfortably squirmed in her seat.

"Eat," he repeated, the finality in his voice leaving no room for argument. The girl obediently picked up the fork, ready to dig into the food. The meal consisted of a variety of fresh fruits, sweet and savoury pastries, and various breakfast proteins. She nibbled on a melon, taking such small bites that Bucky became frustrated.

The pilot's voice came through the overhead speakers, announcing their impending arrival, and the flight attendants prepared for landing.

"Shall I pack this to go, Mr. Barnes?" the female attendant asked, gesturing toward the untouched breakfast.

Bucky nodded. "Has the car arrived?"

"Of course, Mr. Barnes. Also, the police commissioner is waiting for you on the tarmac, per your request."

Bucky hummed. "Good." He retrieved his wallet and handed a few hundreds to the male attendant, who was closer. "For both of your discretion," he explained, referring to his previous phone calls.

"Thank you!" The attendant quickly pocketed the money, and the area was swiftly cleaned. The table between Bucky and the girl was folded and moved out of the way.

"Mrs. Barnes?" the female attendant called. "Mrs. Barnes, please fasten your seatbelt."

Bucky watched as the girl stared blankly at the attendant. "What?"

"We are preparing to land," the attendant explained, struggling to hide her bewilderment.

After a few more uncomfortable moments, Bucky leaned forward and fastened her seatbelt himself, ensuring it was secure. She tensed under his touch, but he ignored it, both amused and annoyed by her reaction to him.

He would need to rectify that later. There was no sound reason for a woman to be so cold toward a man. But for now... They needed to discuss more pressing matters, starting with why she...

Vaguely, Bucky recalled a drunken whisper from his father regarding the Burgundys. Something he had said after one too many drinks. "Their manipulations killed your grandfather."

Bucky hadn't comprehended it at the time, but perhaps he did now. He remembered his conversation with Danial. Surely, any offspring of Danial's would be just as cunning and manipulative as him.

Bucky would uncover the truth if it was the last thing he did.

May 4th, 2018

The car ride from the airport was filled with silence. The girl had lost her appetite but was picking at her food at the behest of her husband, who was engrossed on his phone. She took small, reluctant bites of the fruit, struggling to keep it down.

Husband. The word brought a welling of tears to her eyes. She fought to hold them back as she felt his penetrating gaze upon her. Was this how prey felt just before they were pounced upon by their predators?

James was a prevalent man, it seemed, if the Romanian Chief Commissioner himself came to the runway to greet the newlywed couple on their recent nuptials. The commissioner discreetly pledged his unwavering loyalty to them, and they exchanged handshakes.

"If you need anything," James assured him, "don't hesitate to reach out. You have my number."

They were on their way to James' villa, situated on the outskirts of the city and nestled in a little strip of private land. It was a secluded house meant to provide the newlyweds with privacy during their honeymoon. James had explained this to her before diving straight into his work.

Honeymoon. The girl felt a bout of fear wash over her at the thought. The last thing she wanted was to be alone with a murderer.

Oh God! Would she have to...? Bile rose in her throat. Fleur had warned her that the first time could be painful if both partners weren't ready. She vividly remembered the almost-kiss with Nathan two weeks ago—the anticipation, the push and pull. The immense relief when their moment was interrupted.

No, she wasn't ready at all.

Horror struck her. If Nathan, the university's golden boy, could stoop so low as to drug her, what would James be capable of? James, with his imposing stature and intimidating presence, his unconventional upbringing and violent tendencies. He was involved with the mafia! And now she belonged to him, bound by the laws of God and man.

He would force himself on her and take what he wanted. After the events of the past week, She wouldn't have the strength to fight him. She would lie there, helpless, as another piece of her soul withered away. At this rate, she wasn't sure how much more she had left to lose.

Bile rose even higher, but she forced it back down. Through the tinted window of the Escalade, the Romanian landscape flashed by, though she could not find solace in its fleeting beauty. The unfinished food sat neglected as they finally arrived at their destination.

The house was beautiful. Its dark exterior was adorned with soft lights hanging from nearby trees, creating a mesmerizing canopy that resembled a starry sky. Nestled behind trees and overlooking a meticulously landscaped garden, the two-story Spanish-style building exuded charm and elegance.

It seemed like a place she could one day call home... but she hated it.

The car faltered to a stop on the smooth cobblestone driveway, and the girl was so enraptured by the view that she didn't see James at her side until he opened her door and extended his hand.

She hesitated. Of course, she hesitated. Her father had sold her to this man as part of his despicable retirement plan. A man responsible for her mother's death. Perhaps he would be the one to eventually kill her as well. She didn't want to touch the hands that would bring about her demise, nor did she wish to meet the eyes that would watch the light in her own slowly fade.

Fear took over, and she let him help her out of the car. Clutching her skirt in her free hand, she took cautious steps, mindful not to trip over the fabric that now grazed the pavement without the support of her tall heels. It was then she realized she was still barefoot.

James barely acknowledged her, offering only a quick nod. His grip on her wrist remained firm and unyielding as he guided her pliant form around. They passed stone figurines portraying scantily clad fairies, a white deer with golden antlers, and fire-breathing dragons. They crossed over a small bridge above a flowing stream, with a seating area to their right and a vibrant array of flowers that tied the scene together.

A sudden wave of sadness washed over her as they reached the threshold. Like countless other girls, she had dreamed of her perfect wedding. She envisioned her lover cradling her in his arms, gazing at her adoringly, whispering sweet nothings in her ear as he carried her into their new home. Never did she imagine being dragged by her arm, trailing behind a husband she did not love, and into a house she never wanted to call home.

James released his grip on her wrist as they entered the foyer, and the girl exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. And if his touch provided even an inkling of comfort in this strange and unfamiliar place? Well, it was promptly ignored.

A few servants had gathered at the entrance to welcome the young couple. A frail older woman dressed in splashes of red and white stepped forward. "Ai venit devreme," she grumbled, her shoulders stiff and an ugly frown etched on her face.

"Scuze," James replied.

"Cum a fost zborul?"

"Lung."

"Trebuie să fii obosit."

"Nu prea."

The woman's eyes flicked toward the girl. "Ea trebuie să fie obosită."

James and the woman studied the girl until she warmed with shame, realizing they were talking about her.

"Poate," James grumbled, and they looked away.

The older woman suddenly embraced James, running her arms down his back. "Bine ați venit acasă, domnule Barnes!"

The girl was surprised to see a smile on James' face. The sight made her pause, and she tilted her head in contemplation. In her dreams, the monsters that appeared as smokeless fire, mocking her pain and suffering, never smiled. Yet here was one of those monsters standing before her in the form of a husband, smiling, laughing, displaying emotions she did not believe him capable of.

"Bunică!" James kissed the older woman's hand before gently touching it to his forehead as a sign of respect. Ah! So she was his grandmother. The girl understood that much Romanian. "Mi-a fost dor de tine!"

Their attention was solely on each other, and as if compelled, the girl found herself stumbling backward, one step at a time. It was an instinctive reaction to the turmoil festering in her gut, threatening to drown and suffocate her.

"She's not wearing shoes," a voice with a thick accent remarked.

The girl froze in place. James' grandmother looked at her pointedly, with a kind of resentment the girl couldn't comprehend.

James gestured toward the girl's stiff figure. "Bunică, this is—"

"I know who she is," Bunică snapped. "I can smell a Burgundy from a kilometre away."

"Bunică," James warned in a low tone.

"I want to know why she isn't wearing shoes."

The girl consciously flexed her toes, trying to hide them beneath her dress. Her feet were dirty and sore from walking across the tarmac and then from the car.

Bunică circled the girl, closely scrutinizing her. "Well? Can you speak, girl? Or are you going to stare at me dumbly all day?" For a slighter woman, she was very assertive.

"Bunică," James warned once again.

"I just want to know if Danial gave you a mute bride. I wouldn't put it past him."

"She can speak," James snapped. "Say something."

The girl raised one arm in an awkward wave. "Salut." Shame filled her immediately after having obeyed him.

Bunică narrowed her eyes. "You speak the language?"

The girl vigorously shook her head.

Bunică turned to James for confirmation. "She doesn't," James replied with a roll of his eyes.

"Nu mă face cu ochii aia mari! How can I know if she isn't just as manipulative as her grandma—?"

"Bunică," James interrupted. "Why don't we talk in the study?"

The girl trembled from the number of accusations and verbal abuse hurled at her. She didn't know what she had done to deserve such treatment, but it obviously had something to do with her father.

Bunică gave the girl one last piercing look before abruptly walking away. Her eyes stung at the harsh treatment she was receiving from this stranger. If the grandmother was like that, how unpleasant would James be? She didn't want to find out.

James strode toward her, firmly gripping her arms. "Yelena will show you to my room. Get comfortable and wait for me there." He paused as if considering his words carefully. "Don't leave."

From one prison to another. Perhaps it wasn't such a drastic change from New York. He shoved her into someone else's arms without waiting for a response and hurriedly strode away to catch up to his Bunică.

Yelena was a sturdy young woman with broad shoulders and a slender waist. A dirty blonde braid rested atop her heart-shaped face, with round eyes and pink lips adding to her appealing features. "This way," she said in a thick, palatal Russian accent.

The girl followed Yelena further into the house and up the stairs. The Spanish-style villa boasted ample natural light with contrasting dark accents. Climbing the stairs, they reached a small hallway that led to a pair of doors.

"The master suite," Yelena announced, pushing open the double doors with a flourish and guiding the girl inside. Coming to a stop in the middle of the spacious room, the girl took in the striking contrast of grays, blacks, and earth tones that adorned the bedroom. Floor-length mirrors adorned one wall parallel to the bed, and a set of French doors leading to a small balcony graced the far side of the room. Cool air swept in from the open door, causing the girl to shiver as her heated skin lowered in temperature.

"Your luggage has already been brought up, and a warm bath has been drawn," Yelena informed her, closing the balcony doors when a strong gust of wind carried in some leaves.

The girl nodded but gave no reply, locking herself in the bathroom. It was spacious, surpassing the size of her room back in Vancouver. It exuded luxury, resembling something out of Architectural. Marble floors, wooden accents, twin vanities facing each other, a rain shower at one end, and a window overlooking the black sea at the other. And in the middle of it all, made prominent by the red rose petals scattered around, was an oval bathtub brimming with steaming water.

The girl approached the tub, hoping to relax her weary muscles and wash away the stress of the past few weeks, when something caught her eye. Folded neatly on a stool next to the tub were two engraved robes, a flash of gold against matte black. One bore the inscription "Mr. Barnes." She held her breath. While the other said, "Mrs. Barnes." She felt a sudden confusion, momentarily forgetting how to breathe—was it inhale, exhale, inhale, or the other way around?

She gave a frustrated cry and began tugging at her dress, the only barrier preventing her from resurfacing. From breaking through the layers of hurt and deceit, to feeling the fresh air on her skin, in her lungs. She kicked harder—clawed savagely, but her legs felt lifeless—her fingers weak, and try as she might, she couldn't swim to the surface—couldn't breathe.

The dress clung to her like a second skin, too tight in some places and loose in others. She reached for the zipper at the back but couldn't find it—couldn't break free of her cage. Another cry of frustration escaped her as she dropped to her knees in defeat.

And most curious, her hand snagged on something as she ran it through her hair. She painfully untangled her fingers, revealing the culprit—a ring, forcibly placed upon her by him. It was heavy, and big, and so beautiful ugly. She tugged at it, desperate to remove it from her body and cast it far away. That is what kept her here, anchoring her feet, clipping her wings, depriving her of oxygen.

This—his—ring.

Dipping her fingers into the soapy water, she watched as the diamond disappeared behind a floating petal. Yet, the ring remained stubborn, as if sewn onto her skin, fused with her very being.

Her right hand slipped, causing pain to bloom across her palm. The stupid ring had cut her! She huffed indignantly. How dare—how—why? Her lips curled, quivered, and a whimper escaped her. Then another, and another.

Pain seemed to follow the girl, clinging to her every step. Now, she finally let it wash over her. Pietro's duplicity paled in comparison to the betrayal of her best friend. Her friend who spoke too much and too fast, who pretended to care about her. Her sheepish smile at the ceremony was seared onto the girl's mind. And to think she had been involved in the entire scheme, conspiring with Pietro and her own father.

Was nothing real?

Pain! The girl recalled the last conversation she had with her mother. They talked about school and her mother's garden. Her mother had soothed her after another nightmare, as only mothers knew how. It had been nice. She had been happy.

Until she wasn't, and it wasn't. Now her mother was dead; her father had lied about it. And the girl found herself married to her mother's murderer.

Blood spread through the soapy water, turning it pink. And she finally allowed herself to cry, releasing the pent-up emotions that had thus far consumed her.

He didn't expect the first sob, nor the second or third. When Bucky heard the fourth sob echo through the room, he reached two conclusions. Firstly, he realized he needed to soundproof the bathroom and possibly the bedroom as well. He could hear every hitch in the girl's breath, every pained cry, and every sob she attempted to suppress.

Secondly, Bucky concluded that he must have overlooked a crucial detail in his extensive research regarding the girl, and something was clearly amiss. A lingering suspicion had plagued him since the morning of the wedding. Everything felt off.

Bucky recalled his conversation with Danial after the disastrous ceremony. When his father-in-law threw papers at Bucky's face and made him sign on the dotted line. Bastard.

Another sob caused Bucky to flinch, and he sank onto his bed, loosening his bow tie. Perhaps little Burgundy was unaware of her father's deceitfulness.

He remembered what his bunică had said. "How can I know if she isn't just as manipulative as her grandma?"

Or perhaps the girl was as cunning as described. Bucky knew his family had a history with the Burgundys, but he was unsure to what extent. He was gaining a lot from the marriage—power, money, land—what was she getting, apart from his last name? One thing was certain: the girl was keeping secrets from him. She had refused to see him before their wedding, and now she refused to say more than two words.

An evocative wail drew Bucky's attention back to the present. His feet carried him toward the bathroom, but he hesitated to knock. Bucky doubted the girl wanted his comfort, not that he knew how to provide any if she did.

Bucky Barnes knew women like the back of his hand—their bodies, that is; understanding the female brain was a whole different matter. Bucky knew the basics. He knew that "I'm fine" meant "I'm not fine." And "I don't mind" meant they definitely minded.

There wasn't much else Bucky felt confident about when it came to understanding female behaviour unless it concerned sex. Sex, he knew. It was easy and instinctual.

Boy meets girl. Attraction. Mind-blowing orgasm. Boom, it was as simple as that.

He had heard that honeymoons were filled with sex, sex, and even more sex. Where one's carnal desires came to life. It was supposed to be romantic, sensual, and sexy.

Bucky had spent the past month or so fantasizing about all the sexy things he would do to his wife. Nothing about her crying in the bathroom was sexy.

"Fuck." Bucky quickly changed out of his uncomfortable clothes and into a loose pair of black sweats. He neatly folded his wedding attire and placed it in the dresser, intending to have it dry-cleaned later.

Bucky plopped down on his bed. "Motherfucker," he whispered in disdain. He was not supposed to lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to block out the girl's cries. He was supposed to be fucking her hard and fast, using her to release the stress of the past few weeks out of his system. Her tears were supposed to be tears of pleasure, not pain. His groans were supposed to be of satisfaction, not annoyance.

God, he was exhausted. Now that his body knew he wouldn't be getting lucky tonight, the weight of the entire week's stress settled heavily on his shoulders, making him feel foggy and worn out.

Bucky must have dozed off because the house was eerily quiet when he opened his eyes, and almost an hour had passed.

He stretched his lithe body with a yawn and forced himself up. He wouldn't let the girl rot away in the bathroom all day. They needed to talk, she needed to eat, and then Bucky planned to take her sightseeing in the city.

The bathroom was locked as he went to open it, and there was silence on the other end. Bucky called out his wife's name and knocked on the dark wood. "I know you're in there," he said, exasperation creeping into his voice. When he received no answer, his jaw clenched in frustration. "Come out, I need to talk to you."

There was some rustling on the other side, yet the door remained closed. "If you don't open this door in the next five seconds, I'm breaking it!" Bucky warned. He was not against property damage if it meant she would come out.

It took longer than five seconds, but the door eventually opened, revealing the girl in her wedding dress, still as beautiful as the night before.

Bucky cursed under his breath, momentarily distracted by her appearance. His mind worked a lot slower when she was wearing white. He let his gaze roam over her body. Her hair was a dishevelled mess, with pins sticking out every which way, and mascara streaked in lines down her face. It was unmistakable that she had been crying.

"What's wrong?" he found himself asking, concern evident in his voice.

The girl shook her head dismissively, avoiding eye contact.

"I could hear you," Bucky pointed out. He couldn't have ignored her cries if he tried. She was that loud. Her head bowed lower in what he suspected was shame. "Is it your father?" Bucky ventured. "Do you miss him?"

She remained quiet for a while, frustrating him further. Eventually, she spoke in a voice so low he wouldn't have heard it if he were not waiting for her reply. "My mother."

Of course. Bucky immediately realized his mistake. How could he have forgotten about her mother?

He apologized, "I'm sorry. Any idea who did it?"

His wife slowly lifted her head, eyes wide with alarm.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, trying to gauge her reaction. "I heard it was an inside job. You really don't have any suspects?"

She slowly shook her head. "No," she whispered.

Bucky nodded, as if satisfied. In reality, his sharp mind was assessing her sincerity.

His attention shifted, noticing that her neckline had plunged significantly. It caused his heart rate to increase with excitement, his body coming alive from her proximity. He could see more of her skin than before, not that he minded in the slightest. God, she was sweet. Then a sudden thought struck him—she was still in her wedding dress.

"You haven't changed?" he asked in a husky voice.

Her response was hesitant and quiet. "No, I—I couldn't reach the back."

Cute. Bucky moved aside, gesturing for her to leave the bathroom, smiling when she accidentally brushed against his chest. He closed the door behind him and approached his little wife who stood near the edge of the bed with her back turned.

Slipping behind her, Bucky pressed his body flush against hers, feeling her stiffen. "Relax," he whispered, lowering his head to meet her height. He gently tucked a straight strand of hair behind her ear. "Let me help you."

She didn't object as Bucky ran his hand over the back of her bodice, searching for a zipper or clasp to aid in removing her dress. Instead, he discovered an intricately woven corset, revealing glimpses of smooth skin from between the silk ribbons.

After a few attempts, Bucky managed to undo the bow at the small of her back, and the dress unravelled before his eyes. His wife inhaled in surprise, using her hands to cover the rest of her modesty.

Bucky removed the remaining lace, discarding it somewhere behind him. He noticed red marks on her skin where the corset had been digging in, and he couldn't resist running his fingers over the slight indents. God, her skin felt burning hot against his. It made his heart beat in his ears—made sweat line his neck.

Reaching around, Bucky grasped his wife's chin, tilting it toward him. The sight made him lick his lips in anticipation. Her eyes were darkened with lust, her mouth slightly parted, and her chest rose and fell with each breath.

Sweet, so sweet. And so close he could just reach over and claim her mouth for his own. They were so close he could almost taste the dried tears on her face. Bucky felt an overwhelming desire to touch her, to feel if she were as soft and sweet all over.

His hand tightened on her chin while his other arm slid around her waist, pulling her closer until their noses touched. He was ready to lose himself in her scent, but just like earlier at the wedding, his wife's eyes rolled back, and she collapsed against him.

"Fuck," Bucky muttered, holding his half-conscious wife in his arms. She was not fully unconscious and was mumbling incoherently, blinking her eyes, trying to regain control of her body. "What the fuck?"

Was this a regular occurrence? Bucky hoped not. His line of work was not for the faint-hearted. Hell, she was a Burgundy! Her father, Danial, was ruthless and unapologetic when it came to his empire, so it made no sense for his daughter to be so fragile under minor stress.

Unless she's faking it.

But the longer Bucky stood there, cradling his wife, the more absurd the thought seemed. She looked too sweet and innocent to be as cunning and deceitful as her father.

"God damn it!" Bucky carried her to the bed and laid her down on the sheets. Her eyes were droopy, but she was fighting to stay awake. "Hey," Bucky lightly smacked her face. "You're fine. Open your eyes." She slowly regained composure, blinking and looking around the room as if seeing it for the first time.

"Fuck." Bucky ran a hand through his hair in frustration. All he wanted was a conversation, a simple conversation with regular-sized sentences and no fainting spells. Was that too much to ask for? He didn't think so.

He blindly grabbed a shirt from his closet and handed it to his wife. "Put this on. We need to talk." He made sure to leave no room for argument. Leaning against the wall, Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and waited for his wife to dress.

"Well?" Bucky questioned when she looked at him blankly. "Get a move on. I don't have all day." He chuckled when the girl gasped in surprise. She could think whatever she wanted, but he wasn't going to let anything else delay their conversation. "I'm not moving until that dress is off," he warned.

She swallowed audibly before slipping her head through the neck hole and pulling the fabric over her dress. Bucky observed as she fixed the sleeves and neckline, making final adjustments and letting the dress fall to her waist. Hmm, it was a sneaky move, but Bucky decided to let it slide.

"Go on," he encouraged.

His wife remained seated on the bed, lifting her hips to remove the dress from her legs. It fell to the ground in a heap, and for a moment, Bucky was met with the sexiest thighs he had ever seen. He thought he saw a flash of white lace, but it was quickly covered. His wife pulled his red henley down, attempting to hide her skin, which made him frown.

What had Steve said about him getting some? Yeah. Right. That didn't seem to be happening anytime soon. Didn't mean he couldn't look.

Bucky hummed, breaking the silence. "You faint often?"

His wife appeared taken aback. "N-no, not really."

"Not really," Bucky echoed sarcastically. "Right, we need to talk about that. What happened yesterday?"

"I don't know," she replied, fidgeting with her thumbs, a clear sign of nervousness.

Raising a patronizing brow, Bucky remarked, "Come on, you can do better than that." The girl remained tight-lipped. "Were you drunk?"

She vehemently shook her head, denying it.

"I could smell it on your breath," he accused, recalling the moment before their failed kiss when he leaned in and caught a whiff of alcohol. There was no mistaking it.

"I had some Champagne, but I wasn't drunk," she insisted with desperation.

"Well, someone saw you finish an entire bottle," Bucky pointed out, caught between his wife's words and Dot's account. "Honestly, you don't strike me as someone who can handle her alcohol."

"It was nerves," she finally admitted, avoiding eye contact by focusing on the ground, the window, or the rings adorning his fingers.

"Nerves?" Bucky raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence.

"I got nervous because I've never done this before," she explained.

Bucky understood her perfectly well, but he couldn't resist playing with her. He faked a frown. "I'm not sure I understand."

"You know," she shrugged, silently urging him to fill in the blanks. Bucky took pleasure in making her say the words. "What newlyweds normally do after getting married."

"You mean fuck?" Bucky chuckled, enjoying her reaction. "Somehow, I doubt that."

"Doubt what?"

"Doubt you've never been screwed," his words hit the mark.

The girl's eyes snapped toward him. "I haven't."

Bucky felt a surge of excitement at her false confession. "I wouldn't lie if I were you."

"I'm not lying," she insisted.

Bucky uncrossed his arms and stood tall. "So you're telling me you've never had a boyfriend before?"

Something resembling shame flitted across her face. She hesitated to answer, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes."

Bucky didn't buy it, not for a second, especially after what he discovered the day before. He swallowed his harsh words and retorted with a snide remark. "Never had a boyfriend, huh? Interesting."

"I'm still young," she argued.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her argument. "Still young, huh? Well, sweetheart, age doesn't determine romantic experiences, but hey, who am I to question your luck with Cupid?" He couldn't help but add a touch of sarcasm to his voice.

The girl's face flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. "It's the truth," she insisted, her voice tinged with defiance.

Bucky leaned in closer, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Sure, sure. I guess it's just a rare case of a twenty-two-year-old with zero love history. Must be some kind of record."

The girl clenched her fists, clearly affected by his remark. "It's not as uncommon as you think," she retorted.

Bucky grinned mischievously. "Oh, I'm sure it's a regular occurrence," he replied sarcastically, enjoying their banter. "Cupid must have taken an extended vacation when it came to your life."

She shot him a piercing look. "Well, maybe I've been waiting for someone worthy."

Bucky chuckled, a hint of skepticism in his voice. "Someone worthy? Well, here I am, sweetheart," Bucky spread his arms in an elaborate display, "ready and willing."

With that final snide remark, Bucky settled back into his previous position, eager to see her reaction. The tension in the room lingered as they locked eyes, both unwilling to back down.

"You have some nerve," the girl huffed in irritation.

Bucky's smirk widened, thoroughly enjoying their verbal sparring. "You have no idea, sweetheart," he replied, his voice laced with amusement. "Nerve is practically a requirement in my line of work."

The girl's cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. She clenched her jaw, determined not to let his taunts get the better of her. "Just don't expect me to swoon over your nerves," she retorted, her voice laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Bucky chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. "Oh, sweetheart, I wouldn't dare," he said, inching closer. Somehow she seemed even smaller when he towered over her. "But it seems like you're pretty daring for the both of us." He grabbed her chin and narrowed his eyes, dropping all pretense of humour for a moment. "Don't forget though, this marriage won't be built on swooning or romance. It's a partnership, an arrangement. And you'll find that I bring much more to the table than fucking nerves."

The girl flinched at his harsh words, pursing her lips. Angry tears gathered in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. "And what is that exactly?" she spat. "Because so far, you've been a beast."

For the first time that day, Bucky felt a genuine flash of rage rise within him. He stepped back and released her chin, clenching his fists at his sides and away from her. What had he done to warrant being called a beast? He was trying his best to make sure she was comfortable, but it seemed the Burgundy princess had higher standards.

He breathed through his nose, plastering a mocking smile onto his face. He could tell the second the girl realized the weight of what she said because she was suddenly back to her quiet self.

"Power, protection, and a life you couldn't even fathom," he responded with intensity. "I may not look like your typical knight in shining armour, but I can guarantee this much—no one will ever dare to mess with you as long as you're mine. You have my name now. There's nothing you could possibly want that I couldn't give you."

Bucky paused and took another step back so the girl didn't have to strain her neck as much to look at him. He wanted her full attention on him as he delivered his last blow. "What will you bring to the fucking table?"

The girl's expression softened slightly, her defiance giving way to a flicker of uncertainty. She seemed to be grappling with conflicting emotions, the weight of their unusual situation bearing down on her.

Her eyes went vacant for a moment as if she wasn't in the room anymore. "I'll give you an heir," she whispered.

"What?"

She shook her head, seemingly returning to the room. "I'll give you a son. An heir."

Bucky cocked an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Well, that's a given."

He watched with mild pleasure as she deflated in front of him, defeated. Bucky turned to leave.

"I don't understand you." Her voice was the softest it had been.

"You don't know me," Bucky retorted, slowly warming up to her fluctuating tone. "And I don't know you." He glanced at his watch. "Be ready in five. I'm taking you out for lunch."

Note: Thoughts?

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Chapter 6 — Chapter 7

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[unholyhelbig]

Around season 4: Skye/Daisy Johnson. Reader is a Winter Soldier like Bucky and has been part of the team since the beginning. Reader’s has always been there for the team especially Daisy, and has a huge crush on her, painfully watching on as she goes out with different people. Now the Reader needs help but doesn’t want it, what will Daisy and the team do?

Title: No Control (Daisy Johnson x Female!Reader)

Words: 2452

Trigger Warnings: Blood, mind control, manipulation, night terrors, talks of death, horrible grammar (Let me know if I should add more)

[A/n: Okay, I may have deviated from the prompt just a little bit, but in my defense, this is technically my first time writing Reader/Daisy Johnson so I had to feel it out a little!]

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The rope dug into your skin like a nasty row of teeth, biting at the skin, drawing a flourishing flash of bright blood. The image made you pull harder in a vicious tug of strength. Your jaw ached, tasted thick of metal. If you could just get out of this stupid chair, this horrible cell. It was much too small for your liking.

Quake, Daisy as you knew her, watched you with a lifted eyebrow. Her fingers were curled around the iPad that connected her to the controls of your containment. She grimaced, a wetness building in her stare.

When your struggle against the ropes had proved fruitless, you glanced up at her through wild, unkept hair, chest heaving. “What did you do to me? Why can’t I get out of this? Let me out of this!”

It felt like you were underwater, your chest heavy with discontent, even when you went slack in your binds. The first inkling that something was wrong had been swallowed down, the nightmares that ripped through your subconscious and pulled you from sleep.

For weeks, you’d wake up drenched in your own sweat as you tried to draw any type of air into your lungs. It often ended with you sitting, exhausted and scared, in the kitchen of the compound. First, you’d drink a cup of tea, then you’d pace and drink another, before finally succumbing to exhaustion on the common room sofa.

Agent May had found you the first night, just before dawn. She didn’t’ poke or prod, instead, she gently woke you and wordlessly gestured back towards your bunk. Other agents would be walking in and out, scourging for breakfast and their own fix of caffeine.

Those dreams- those nightmares- would soon leak into your everyday routine. As you sparred with Bobbie, you’d thrown a particularly deadly right hook. It was the color of her eyes, the seafoam dusty grey that you’d always found so endearing flashed and ripped into his gaze.

You’d drawn blood and stumbled back on the blue mat. Other recruits gaped at the two of you, floating by the edge of the training room. Bobbi pulled her fingers from the laceration on her cheek, already forming a bruise.

“I’m sorry,” came your whispered response. You grabbed your bag from the nearby bench, louder this time “really, I’m sorry.”

Bobbi called after you as you pushed open the doors of the training room and shoved through agents until you made it to the safety of your room. Except, it didn’t’ feel much like safety anymore. Your fingers were shaking, and your knuckles had a smear of dried brown blood, Bobbi’s blood, against them.

It had been years, nearly a decade, since you’d first been approached by Phil Coulson with his grandiose idea of forming a team to take down hero-level threats within SHIELD, because after all, everyone needs a backup plan. And while you’d been hesitant at first, that single decision in a Montanna bar changed the course of your life. Changed your isolation tactics, the person you had once been.

SHIELD was your family. They’d slowly ebbed away the distant memories of what had created you in the first place: the brainwashing, the torture, the misguided loyalty was all on the backburner. You’d forgotten just how cold it was.

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong.

Without warning, the icy hand of your captor was closing around your throat once more, but this time, you were surrounded with people who you cared for. The thought of hurting them had you hunched over the bathroom in your room, retching whatever mint-tea concoction you’d swallowed down hours before.

At one point, you blacked out, and when you came to, when you finally pulled yourself from the scent of bile and blood and regret, you were here. They’d moved you to a containment unit and restrained you with ropes that did no favor to your already aching body.

Your fingers were still coated in blood, too much to be from your outburst in the gym. And while you still panicked, while you were still choked with fear, there was a calmness about the situation. If you were in here, you weren’t out there. With them.

“Whose blood is this?” you asked.

“Hard to say,” Daisy replied. “You did quite the number. It’s hard for agents to fight off a super soldier, you know?”

Your jaw began to ache as you pressed your teeth together, peering at her through strands of sweat-caked hair. The rope wouldn’t hold you for long, but the containment unit would. There was an electric buzz from the forcefield strong enough to hold back ten-thousand super soldiers.

Daisy had a tepid stare trained on you that made you squirm. You tested your strength against your binds, pressing and pressing until the frayed edges drew blood, dripped down the tips of your fingers until the floor was puddled with it.

A laugh bubbled up in your throat. You lolled your head, trying to loosen up your shoulders. Everything was weak and fuzzy and above all else, you felt the hiss of someone’s voice in the back of your mind. Eyes seeing through your eyes, hands gripping past your own.

There was a poison to Daisy’s voice “You just leveled a room full of twenty-five agents and you’re laughing?”

She’d clicked off the iPad, set it aside. Daisy stood and crossed her well-toned arms over her chest. God, even in your disillusioned state, you were acutely aware of your feelings for her. They’d been festering under the surface for a better part of the last three years.

“No, no… I just…”

With an extra tug, the mass of rope fell to the ground in a heap of ties and caked blood. You couldn’t distinguish your own from those of the agents that you be felled. Your fingers worked at the lacerations.

“You’ve got a very motherly tone right now. I mean, you’re scolding me, actually scolding me!”

“What do you expect me to do, y/n? What I witnessed in there was one of the scariest, most startling things I have ever seen and you expect me not to scold you? What the fuck is going on?”

Her voice cracked during the last sentence and your heart tugged at the sound. You’d heard it before as she sunk to the floor years ago when Lincon had perished, and when she’d succumbed to the fear of her own powers growing out of control.

The part of you that was still you didn’t want to cause that pain, and most certainly didn’t want the fear to take over. You stood, approaching the barrier. It was the only thing between you both, and it was highly charged.

You’d been tempted to touch it, to place your hand against the electricity save for the pain. Instead, you started pacing back and forth, the length of your makeshift cell. “This is where we held Agent Ward, isn’t it?”

She didn’t’ answer, instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat as you examined the metal frame bed and the cameras that were situated around each corner of the cell. Part of you swelled with pride, being confined in the same spot the biggest threat to the team had been in. You quickly drowned the thought, shaking your head.

 “Does it bother you? Watching two people you love fall down the same path?” The words had slipped past your lips before you could quell them. Instead, you tutted “You’re well on your way to a pattern, young lady. One more good-looking sociopath and you’ll collect all three.”

“Don’t,” Daisy snarled “You need to tell me what’s wrong. This isn’t you.”

You stopped pacing, lilting your head to the side as you stared at her. She was itching to leave, and you wanted her to. It would make all of this easier. Your entire body itched too, wanted to give in to the full control. It wasn’t something you were willing to do in front of Daisy.

“Do you know how much control I have to practice on a daily basis, Zee? Just a little more strength than usual and I rip a cabinet door off. I shatter a mug. I punch a co-worker in the face. It’s a constant push between what’s right to do and what I was designed to do.”

“So what? You decided you’re done watching your strength? That doesn’t warrant an attempt at massacre.”

“You don’t get it!” You punched the barrier, reveling in the feel of electricity that moved through your fingertips, your arm and elbow until it dissipated altogether. She flinched but didn’t step back. “When Hydra… why Hydra trained me it was all I knew. I would wake up, follow orders, and be put back to sleep before I could even register what I had done. Who I had killed, what I destroyed.”

This was something you had refused to talk about. Coulson knew the gist of your containment, of your de-programming because that was all listed in your SHIELD file. But the true horrors of your ordeal were a mystery to the entire team. It was behind you. He was behind you.

“A SHEILD team raided one of Hydras bases and I was there. I was willing to go without a fight and Hydra was willing to leave me there to absolve for their sins.” You chuckled at that, shaking your head “There was months of imprisonment, of interrogation and then deprogramming. And finally, finally after years of trying to prove myself to Director Fury, and Agent Hill, they cleared me for duty. Cleared me to join Coulson’s team.”

You let yourself plop down onto the metal chair, suddenly too exhausted to remember why you were fighting so hard in the first place. Daisy clenched and unclenched her jaw. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Two years of deprogramming doesn’t make up for a lifetime of torture, of molding me into the perfect killing machine.” You swallowed hard “I played my part, I ignored the feeling of being watched, the dark thoughts that tried to break through into my new, good, life. I fought every single day to make sure all of you were safe and unharmed and… suddenly, suddenly the people who were controlling me got stronger.”

Daisy shifted, uncrossing her arms “You’re saying you’re still under Hydra’s control?”

“I’m saying I wasn’t strong enough to fight off their hold on me. A few months ago I started blacking out and the nightmares, they got worse. But everyone was finally settled, finally happy. We were happy”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Daisy’s voice waivered “Y/n, one of the perks of having a girlfriend is being able to talk to them, to tell them things. You should have come to me.”

“I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I thought I could handle it. I thought I could keep things under control.”

Daisy let out a long sigh and lowered herself back into her own chair. Her elbows resting on her knees. She bounced her leg, staring at you with those deep brown eyes that you could drown in. Somehow, her being there, was enough if only for a moment.

“I have to tell Coulson.”

“I know,” you said.

“He’ll know what to do. We’ll get through this, y/n.” Her words were whispered, eyes glassy with emotion. “I love you. We all do. This is just another challenge, okay? We’re here to help.”

“I admire your perseverance, Daisy, but the hold hydra has on me. It’s bigger than me, it’s bigger than us.”

She swallowed thickly “You don’t mean that.”

But you did, didn’t you? Your skin felt like it was on fire and you wanted nothing more than to peel it off strip by strip until there was a new layer glinting under the industrial lights. Anything to stop the uncomfortable feeling of not being in your own body. You’d gotten to complicit under the watchful eye of SHIELD. Hydra didn’t like that, and at this point, neither did you.

It had been so easy, so simple to rip through those agents as they aimed red dots at your center. You didn’t care if they fired their weapons, you hadn’t a care in the world and it was freeing.

It was hard to wager that with the sad look your girlfriend was giving you now. Her fingers were tapping against her knees, hardly a perfect interrogation technique. It was hard not to crave her touch, her mouth hot on yours. Even if you did give yourself up to Hydra entirely, there would always be Daisy.

You lilted your head, narrowing your eyes at her. She’d be just as easy to break; just a little bit of homegrown brainwashing and she’d be by your side again. Both of you dripping in blood. A power like hers, resting under her fingertips, would be invaluable.

Standing, you gently touched the barrier separating you both. There was a subtle electronic buzz that moved through your fingertips and up to your elbow. It was warming, a constant comfort, almost. “Darling, we could make all of this go away. Just the two of us.”

She lifted her hazel stare from the tablet in front of her, reading your vitals like an open book. They were steady, you were sure of it. There was curiosity in her stare.

“Do you remember the house in Vermont we talked about?” You dragged your fingers against the barrier, a blue trail following fast. “The two of us can forget all of this, forget SHIELD and Hydra. We can go there, start a family. Isn’t that what you want?”

You could read it in her expression, it was exactly what she wanted. But Daisy Johnson was no fool. Despite your terse begging and manipulative tactics, she remained calm. One knee was balanced on the edge of the chair, the other foot planted firmly on the floor.

“Rae’s Restaurant… the floorplan that we drew out on the back of a placemat. Two stories, a nursery, and office. A massive backyard. I remember it well.” Daisy stood again, facing off against you with nothing but an electrical panel holding you back. “This isn’t the you I imagined it with. Where is the kindness? The selfless woman that I fell in love with?”

You gritted your teeth. “Gone. Nothing but a fabrication, baby. I’m just offering you one last chance to join me. I have no reservations about destroying you right along with this entire organization.”

Daisy swallowed hard, trying to quell the lump in her throat. She refused to let herself cry. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I do love a challenge.”   

[jackfrombaskinrobbins]

adopting a pet with the avengers!

type of writing: headcanons / scenario

word count: 911

request: yes / no

original request: hello good fellow. can you do a headcanon set on adopting a pet with the avengers? thanks

dynamic: avengers x teen!reader (teenage avenger series)

characters: mainly tony stark, scott lang, reader, peter parker, harley keener, miles morales, and bruce banner!

a/n: bucky + alpine = fave duo ever. OK maybe natasha & liho too. and clint and lucky. there are so many good pets already in marvel (usually just comics tho smh) so i had some stuff to go off of. THANK YOU FOR THIS REQUEST i loved writing it <3

taglist: @nutellani @thecloudedmind

(fill out this form to be on my taglist!)

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you had been BEGGING tony to let you get another pet

bc a few of them already lived at the tower

lucky, liho, and alpine

but you wanted a dog.

not just any dog

specifically a puppy 

and miles, peter & harley were on ur side

especially harley bc he rly wanted a dog

so one day when tony got rly tired of y’all asking him, he came up with an idea

“tell you what. how about you kids make a petition. if you can get a decent amount of signatures, i’ll consider getting you a puppy.”

and that was good with u!!

i mean u were all taking government class at midtown so this was gonna be easy

the first person you went to was scott

bc he’s scott, he wasn’t gonna have an issue with a puppy right

right?????

but when you asked him, he seemed kind of sad for some reason.

and when you asked him why?

“well, it’s just… i don’t want my ants to feel left out.”

“scott, i don’t think they would feel left out. you love those things more than anything!”

“yeah.. you’re right. ant-onio banderas won’t be mad right? or ant-ibacterial? oh, hopefully if they’re mad, it won’t be permen-ANT!!!”

you got the signature and left asap because once scott says one pun he takes like hours to figure out another

love him though

so next you went to clint

and he was more than happy to sign!!

bc ofc lucky would love a little friend

and natasha was there too

she was a little more hesitant bc liho is rly sweet but kinda skittish

but you convinced her because you told her how cute it would be if they loved each other & like you could get the cute stock photos of a dog & a cat together or something

thor was totally on board

because he’s thor ofc

and thor loves puppies

“y/n, this is so exciting! i remember when i got my first pet!! well, it turned out to be loki in disguise. it was still very exciting, though!!”

oh btw miles and peter signed 

they were ur first signatures!!!!!!

next up was sam, bucky, and steve

and you and harley decided you needed a little extra push to convince them

so you made a powerpoint presentation. 

and it was awesome

like you may have used every single available transition

twice

maybe three times each

like i said it was awesome

maybe a little excessive

but awesome!!!

steve kept making you go back a slide because he was taking notes

TAKING NOTES

what a nerd, am i right???

jk we love steve rogers in this house

anyways then they deliberated

and they made you and harley go stand outside the room

it literally felt like shark tank you guys

well not the standing outside while they decide but still

but they signed it yippee!!!!

bruce and wanda signed quickly too

especially bruce was really excited

i feel like he would totally be a dog person 

like he prob had a puppy when he was young that he really loved

you even went over to the sanctum sanctorum to get stephen and wong to sign it!!!

and they did!!!

well wong did

and then he forged strange’s signature for you

wong supremacy fr

you were on a roll

you got aunt may to sign it. you got phil coulson to sign it (pretend he’s alive oml sry yall) you got maria hill to sign it.

hell, nick fury even signed it!!!!

so you took it back to tony

and he was like 

“woah this is a lot more than i expected”

AND SO HE TOOK YOU TO GET A PUPPY!!

and y’all

you and peter, harley, and miles found the cutest one

a little german shepard 

w like the floppy ears & stuff?

oml he was so cute

tony kept saying his named was tony jr

but you told him no

but he kept saying it

ok, live in ur fantasy world ig stark!!!!

jk love him

anyways you named him max!!!

bc yes!!!!

and you took him back to the tower

thor was really excited and max like totally loved him from the start fr

any time he liked ripped up the furniture or smth thor would just hold him with one hand and take him around

but he was happy so he was like wagging his tail and stuff

sam and bucky looked like they didn’t like the dog at first

but then alpine was like obsessed with it and so bucky had to like him

and max kept sitting on sam and licking him

and he was like “omg stop”

but he was laughing so you knew you were good

tony and bruce even built a little spot for max in the lab

and a bunch of like cool toys for him

max was the perfect dog for y’all bc like he loved everyone and everyone loved him

every night he slept in a new room & he loved to play 

he ran with y’all too when you had to run so it was way more fun

suddenly dr strange was over at the tower a lot more…

he’s such a softie

and scott loved him too they were best friends

tony was just proud of himself for “teaching you to be good citizens”

HAHAHA

dw y’all he loved the dog too

just trust that max is the most spoiled dog EVER!!

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[questionableratatouille00]

𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 2

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Therapy begins, and Y/n can’t see herself in any of these people. When introductions lead to comparing trauma, will the redhead be able to coerce her out of her shell?

Warnings (Entire Series): This series deals with mature topics, including, but not limited to: death, mental health issues, physical, emotional, and sexual abuse, grief, trauma, general unwellness, illness (both mental and physical), and a most likely inaccurate portrayal of group therapy (though it’s much better than whatever was going on in TFATWS.) Please mind the warnings below.

Warnings: anxiety, mentions of death, mentions of: cults, suicidal thoughts, past suicides of family members, heart attacks, kidnapping, child abuse, boat accidents, bombings. Please mind your triggers and stay safe.

🌻 Series Masterlist 🌻

————————————————————————

𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐲

“You can all follow me this way—Dr. Coulson’s ready now.” He announced.

You stood on legs that felt completely hollow—any sense of comfort you’d felt in the waiting room disappearing in an instant. You trailed behind the redhead, the only two people behind you were the two men who’d walked in after you.

Peter, who was most likely college-aged, lead you all down the hallways and to a door. He opened it, leading you all inside the room.

A man, who you assumed was Dr. Coulson, smiled warmly as you all filed inside. There was a circle of chairs in the center of the room.

The room itself was calming, with little decorations here and there.

You sucked in some deep breaths, hoping to at least try and calm your nerves.

Peter walked out of the room, and you turned your attention to Dr. Coulson.

“Hi, everybody. Go ahead and take a seat wherever you’d like.” He directed, sitting down in the one farthest from the door. You took a seat in a chair, and the redhead took the seat to your right. A man with a goatee sat on your left. You quickly surveyed the group.

There was the man with the purple shirt, and you noticed that his eyes were a blue-green color. Next to him was Dr. Coulson, and on Dr. Coulson’s left was a man, with dark skin and some of the most beautiful brown eyes you’d ever seen. Next to him was the man with long brown hair, and then next to him was his blonde friend. Next to the blonde was another blonde, this guy with longer blonde hair he tied back in a ponytail. He was also huge, and muscled to no comparison.

Next to that guy was another man, with dark brown or maybe black hair, and gentle brown eyes. He wore glasses, and seemed very shy. Then there was the redhead next to him, and then, well, you.

“I’d like us all to go around and introduce ourselves,” Dr. Coulson spoke again, “name, age, and a fun fact about yourself, if you feel comfortable doing so.” He invited the conversation, grinning. “I’ll go first. I’m Dr. Phil Coulson, you can call me ‘Phil’ or ‘Coulson’ or whatever you’d like. I’m 49 years old, and I’ve worked here for about fifteen years or so.” He looked to the man in the purple shirt.

“Uh, I’m Clint Barton. I’m 30 years old, and..I’m hard of hearing.” He turned his head to glance at Coulson, and you caught a glimpse of his hearing aid.

The man next to you introduced himself. “The name’s Tony Stark. I’m 45, and I’m a mechanic.” He answered confidently.

Everyone’s focus turned to you. You froze instantly, the introduction you’d been rehearsing in your head completely disappearing from your mind. Your mouth felt dry and your scalp felt hot, like you were standing in the hot sun.

The redheaded woman next to you leaned over to you.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “I get nervous too.”

Though she didn’t say much, you felt a small bit of comfort as you cleared your throat. “Sorry. Uh, my name’s Y/n. Y/n L/n. Uh...I’m 27. Uh…I almost didn’t come here today.” Several people flashed you small smiles of friendliness, to which you smiled back.

“I’m Wanda Maximoff.” The woman next to you smiled warmly. “I’m 26. And I’ve been married before.” When she smiles, her nose crinkles.

“I’m Bruce Banner. I’m 43, and I’m a scientist.” The guy beside her said quietly. He seemed anxious, but also very kind.

“I am Thor Odinson. I am 30, and I had two siblings.” The guy with the blonde ponytail’s voice was loud and booming, but not in an aggressive way. He looked fun to be around, and he looked like the kind of guy you didn’t expect to see in a therapy group. But you could really say that about any of these people. They didn’t look traumatized, from what you could tell.

“Hi. I’m Steve Rogers, I’m 29 years old, and I’ve known this guy—“ he taps the brunette next to him's shoulder, grinning, “—my whole life.”

The guy next to him nods, confirming this, but he shifts awkwardly. You notice that he's wearing gloves, along with his jacket and all his other layers. Strange, considering the weather, but maybe he just had poor circulation.

He took them off as he fiddled with his hands. You noticed his left hand was a dark, dark gray, with gold lines in it. Metal, you realized. He caught you looking, giving you a look of distrust, of defensiveness.

No, you wanted to assure him. I didn’t mean it like that. Fuck. You felt immeasurably guilty and he looked away.

"My name is James Barnes. I'm 29. I go by Bucky." He states, and it looks like he struggled to get it out. Steve smiles at him, and you can compare his demeanor to one of a golden retriever.

"I'm Sam Wilson. I'm also 29, and I used to counsel veterans down at a VA office in DC." The man with the beautiful brown eyes said.

"It's nice to meet you all." Dr. Coulson grinned as he looked around the group. "Even though you all come from different backgrounds and have lived different lives, you all have one thing in common: you all have PTSD, or struggle with a past trauma." He explains.

"Today, I’d like to talk about PTSD as we start this week’s session. I understand that many of us in this group have experienced past trauma or traumas, and are still navigating the effects of these experiences. I’d like to invite all of you to speak openly about any emotions or events that you’ve been struggling with, and how it has impacted your life. We’re here to support and understand one another, so don’t hesitate to share your stories. Are you all comfortable with going around and explaining why you came today? You can be as brief or descriptive as you'd like. I'd like to remind everybody that this is a safe space, and there will be no judgement here."

You sat quietly, not wanting to be the first person to speak up. Luckily, you didn't have to be.

"When I was 13, I watched my father have a heart attack. Right in front of me. I was real sick a lot as a kid, so it was rough on my Ma. She ended up passing when I was 18." Steve speaks quietly, nodding slowly to himself, keeping his eyes on his hand, which rested on his knee.

When it was clear he was finished, Sam spoke up next. "I was in the military. Served in the Air Force. Watched my best friend, who was also my partner of two years at the time, go down. Felt like I was just up there to watch." Sam recalls.

"My sister was four years older than me, and my brother was two years younger. She killed herself when I was 14. My brother overdosed when I was 17. My father favorited me, and it was clear that he did." Thor states.

"I was kidnapped as a kid, and my dad was shitty." Tony shrugs.

"I struggled a lot with...thoughts of suicide a lot. So..yeah." Bruce trails off.

"My dad was abusive." Clint explains briefly.

"I'm from Sokovia." Wanda began. "My brother died in a bombing there a few years ago, as our parents did when we were younger. My husband died last year in a boat accident."

Husband, you noted.

"My girlfriend died nine months ago." You force the words out, remaining cautious. Girlfriend. Not boyfriend.

Nobody reacted differently to your statement, and you smiled internally, though you couldn’t help but compare your response to everyone else’s. Yours didn’t seem as…serious as theirs. You felt a sense of guilt seeping in. Here you were, taking up a spot in a therapy group where someone with some serious issues could be sitting.

"...I was in the army. Got..got my arm blown off. And then, uh...cult." Bucky kept his gaze on the floor, even as Steve gently pressed his knee against Bucky's.

"Wait. 'Cult'?" Tony catches, brows furrowed and eyes showing the confusion he felt. Everyone, including you, nodding in agreement with him.

“Long story.” Bucky brushes it off.

“Okay then.” Sam shrugs.

You watched Dr. Coulson as he began to talk again.

—————————

He’d introduced a small game to help everyone get to know each other. It felt like a thing you’d do in middle school, but it worked nonetheless. You enjoyed it, even. It hadn’t been awful.

You knew a little bit more about everybody. Thor’s favorite color is red. Clint was good at archery. Bucky worked at the library. Steve had a long list of illnesses. Sam liked running. Wanda’s favorite flowers were sunflowers.

When it was over, you drove home. Once you got in your apartment, you opened your phone, clicking on a familiar contact.

“Hello?” Sharon’s voice sounded out from the phone.

“Sharon, hey.” You smiled awkwardly to yourself.

“Oh my God, Y/n. It’s good to..hear your voice. Wait. Did you go? To the meeting today?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“How was it?”

“It was uh, it was good.” You stared at your feet, realizing your shoes were still on as you stood in the living room. You kicked them off, listening to her voice.

“I’m glad to hear it. I..wasn’t sure if you’d go. The emoji was good to see, but..a bit vague.” She laughed.

“Yeah…sorry about that. And I’m sorry for…y’know, ghosting you and all that.”

“It’s okay. I’m just glad you seem to be doing a bit better. Hey, uh, I’m in the parking lot of the hospital. My shift’s in a few minutes, but do you wanna get some coffee? Whenever you have time.”

You paused for a minute, taking in some shallow and shaky breaths.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d..I’d like that. See you soon, Sharon.”

“Bye.” She said.

“Bye.” You echoed, listening to her hang up the phone. After a moment, you lowered it from your ear, smiling.

Maybe everything wasn’t so bad, after all.

[upat4amwiththemoon]

If possible could you do a Daisy Johnson x wife reader where reader is extremely overprotective and when reader and Daisy get into a argument over reader being overprotective thats gets so heated that Daisy ends up saying that their marriage was a mistake and reader takes their wedding ring and throws it at daisy and reader tells daisy to go to hell and runs to Coulson crying and Coulson confronts Daisy for making reader cry and Coulson explains to Daisy why reader is overprotective (Reader is Phil Coulson's inhuman/mutant adopted daughter)

The past

Summary: Actions done in the present stem from mistakes made in the past.

Pairing: Daisy Johnson x female!reader

Warnings: some angst, cursing

Word count: 1136

a/n: thank you everyone for your patience regarding your requests, I’m doing my best to do as many as I can now :)

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore

masterlists | guidelines

Daisy paces around the room, her hands crossed over her chest. Y/N is sitting on their bed with a frown on her face. They’ve been fighting for a long time now. It started after a mission, where Y/N pushed Daisy out of harms way, even though she could have handled herself well.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve done this.” Daisy groans, looking at Y/N, who avoids eye contact with her. “It’s annoying.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need you to be sorry!” Her voice is louder now, making Y/N flinch slightly. “I need you to stop being so damn overprotective, I’m not a child that needs saving.”

Y/N stands up to level with Daisy. “I don’t think you are a child, I just don’t want you to get hurt, or..or die!”

“I’m not dying.” Daisy rubs her forehead, closing her eyes tightly. “Yes, there are risks, but this is the job we both signed up to do! And I can’t do that job, if you’re in my way.”

“I know there are risks, but me protecting you is part of the job! We keep each other safe.”

“Oh god.” Daisy groans loudly, throwing her head back. “You just don’t get it!”

“Then explain it to me!”

“I keep trying! I’ve tried and tried, but you just don’t care. You’re literally suffocating me!” Daisy’s hand are flying around the air as she yells. “Maybe this was a mistake!” She points between them. “Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten married.”

Y/N stares at Daisy. Her face fallen and tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. “Go to hell, Daisy.” Pulling off her wedding ring, she throws it in Daisy’s general direction. She runs out of the room, slamming the door shut in the process, and straight to Phil.

She’s full blown sobbing she reaches her adoptive father. “Hey, what happened?” He opens his arms instantly, wrapping his arms around her as she leans against him.

“We fought.” She cries, pressing her face against his shoulder, which quietens her voice even more. “She said that- that maybe our marriage was a mistake.”

“What?” One of Phil’s hands caresses her back, while the other combs through her hair, doing his best to console her. “Why?”

”Because I can’t stop suffocating her.”

Phil frowns, not knowing what to say, so he just continues comforting her until she gets tired. Then he brings Y/N to his room. “Go to sleep, okay? We’ll sort it out later.”

“Okay.” She whispers, flopping down to his bed and pulling the cover completely over her, wanting to hide from the world.

Shutting the lights, Phil leaves the room, closing the door behind him, before walking to what usually is Daisy and Y/N’s shared room. He knocks on the door, stepping inside once she hears a quiet come in from the inside.

Daisy is sitting on the bed, her cheeks red from crying. She tries to smile when she sees Phil coming in, but it doesn’t really look like one. “Hi.” Her voice is hoarse. “You heard?”

“Yeah.” Phil sits next to her.

“I feel awful. I didn’t mean to say it.”

“I know.”

“I just feel like we don’t understand each other.” She lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’m not incapable of taking care of myself.”

Patting Daisy’s leg, Phil looks at her. “Do you know why I adopted Y/N?” Daisy shakes her head, it wasn’t something she and Y/N talked about. “Her parents were SHIELD agents. One day, when Y/N was ten and had already gone through terrigenesis, they had a mission. Just the two of them, no backup. It was supposed to be easy, in and out.”

“What was the mission?”

“To find a cure for Y/N’s inhuman powers. It wasn’t a known thing back then, they thought it was..wrong and something to be cured.” He explains when Daisy grimaces. “They went into an abandoned HYDRA facility, except the intel was wrong. It was swarming with HYDRA agents. And because they had no backup, they were killed during that mission. I was the one to tell Y/N what happened. She blamed herself.”

“And she still does.” Daisy whispers, staring at her hands. “That’s why she’s so protective of the team.”

Phil nods. He watches Daisy wrap her head around the new information. “She doesn’t want anyone to die because she could’ve done more. Which is why she does the most on every single mission.”

“I should go talk to her.” Daisy stares at Y/N’s ring she’s holding and her own wedding ring on her finger. They got married for a reason. “Where is she?”

“In my room.”

“Okay, thank you, AC.” She stands up with a slight smile, ignoring the disapproving look Phil has on his face about the nickname.

Daisy knocks on the door, making herself known before stepping inside. The cover is moving up and down quietly, going with Y/N’s breathing. Sitting down behind her, Daisy sets her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, gently caressing it.

“Dad?” A muffled comes from under the covers.

“It’s me.”

Y/N stretches her neck back to see Daisy sitting there. She doesn’t look angry anymore, just sad. Y/N sits up on the bed, leaning her back against the backboard to put some space between the two.

“I brought your ring back.” Daisy sets the ring to the mattress. Y/N stays quiet. “Our marriage wasn’t a mistake. I’m sorry I said that, and I’m sorry I got angry at you. I was the one who didn’t understand.” Her voice is soft and she keeps eye contact with Y/N, wanting to show her she’s being genuine. “Coulson told me what happened with your parents,” this makes Y/N look away from her, “I shouldn’t have assumed the worst, but now I know.”

They stay quiet. Y/N is staring at the ring laying near her and Daisy is looking at her. Finally, Y/N picks up the ring and slides it back into her ring finger, where it belongs. “It’s okay.” She whispers with a small smile. “We still have a lot to learn, and I’ll try to be less overbearing.”

“Don’t.” Daisy moves to sit right next to Y/N so she can hold her hand. “You do the most during missions and that has saved our asses so many times. Don’t be anything less.”

Y/N leans her head on Daisy’s shoulder. “Okay.”

“I’m also sorry about your parents.”

Letting out a small hum, Y/N nods. Daisy stays quiet after that, noticing she doesn’t want to talk about them anymore. So, she lays her head on top of Y/N’s and puts on a movie, hoping tomorrow’ll be better.