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flamehairedwritings · 4 years

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The Fiancé: Chapter Nine

Characters: Steve Rogers x Female Plus-Size Reader

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

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

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

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

The Fiancé Masterlist

All Works Masterlist

Read on AO3

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

—

The Party

SATURDAY

There’s a solid warmth at your back, and a not uncomfortable weight around your waist.

Humming quietly as the gentle hands of sleep let you go, letting you awaken, you open your eyes slowly after several moments. Stretching your legs out, your gaze settles on the curtains and the thin shaft of light that pours through the gap. It spills across the bed, across you, and across the sleeping form of Steve Rogers.

Glancing down at his arm around you, a sleepy, delighted smile pulls at the corners of your mouth.

‘I don’t want this to be a one time thing.’

You'd fallen asleep soon after those glorious words had been spoken, head on his shoulder, fingers splayed across his chest, his hand over them, his arm around you.

It had felt so right. Maybe that’s why you’d slipped so easily into your sleep, feeling so safe and warm and cared for.

Feeling him behind you, you know he’s still asleep, his breathing measured and soft, and you bite at your lower lip as a wide smile pulls at the corners of your mouth, the memories of last night trickling back into your mind as your hand rests lightly over his.

It had happened.

It had really happened.

Turning your head slowly so as to not wake him, you get a glimpse of his sleeping, peaceful face, eyes closed, completely relaxed. You hadn’t often fantasised about this part because it had hurt too much but it’s just as blissful as the times you had. Unable to stop yourself, you carefully turn over to face him, moving so slowly, and once you settle against him, your chest pressed to his, his brow just dips slightly and his arm tightens around you a little.

You gaze up at him, your eyes slowly trailing down his features. He looks so content, so rested, so—

“How long are you gonna stare at me?”

You have to bite your lip again at his sleep-roughened mumble, and of course he’d been awake that whole time. Gazing at him, his eyes remaining closed, you shrug a shoulder.

“Long as I want to.”

He adjusts his head on the pillow slightly. “All right, just let me know when you’re done.”

Your wide smile has returned, and you can’t hep but hum quietly at his finger tips idly stroking your back.

Oh, what those fingers had done...

Tilting your chin up, you brush your lips against his jaw and a quiet noise sounds from the back of his throat. Pressing another gentle kiss there, you then trail them along to his chin, then before you can move to his lips he’s tilting his head down and meeting yours.

It’s a soft, tender, lingering kiss, and his other arm slides under you during it, holding you closer.

You never want it to end.

When it does, though, he presses a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth and then your cheek before his eyes finally open and he gazes down at you with a soft smile.

“Hello.”

You drape an arm around him, the other tucked against your chests as you smile. “Hi.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.

“Good.”

Licking his lips, his fingers trace up and down your back as he looks at you. “You know, I—”

“Hello?”

Both of you freeze, hearing the voice downstairs, staring at each other.

Nat.

You both move in the same moment. He releases you, darting off the bed and pulling his briefs on before he stares at the floor, remembering both your clothes are still down by the pool. You have moved off the bed, too, wrapping a blanket around yourself because your underwear is on the other side of the room.

“Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God...” you hiss, hearing Nat start to move up the stairs.

“Steve? Y/N?”

He grabs the robe from the back of the bathroom door, tugging it on and tying it tightly as you move around the bottom of the bed to dart into the bathroom. He catches your arm, though, and you inhale sharply as he pulls you towards him.

“Steve, she’s gonna—”

His lips press to yours in a firm, brief kiss, before he draws his head back and grins at you. Shaking your head, trying very hard to stop a smile as your tongue runs along your teeth, you watch him stride to the door and open it just enough so he can slip through, closing it behind himself.

You hear Nat pause on the top step, then silence.

“... Nat.”

“Well, good morning, Steve.”

God, you can hear her smirk.

There’s a short pause before you hear him striding down the hallway to his room.

From down below, you hear Sam’s voice calling up. “... Oh, now wait a minute!”

You hear the sound of Steve’s door closing a few moments later as Sam laughs.

You have to stop your own laugh as you grip at the blanket, and then there’s two knocks on the door.

“Are you decent? May I come in?” Nat asks, and you tighten the blanket around yourself, readying yourself for the smirk of all smirks.

“Yep, come on in.”

It opens and she peers in before stepping through and closing the door behind herself. Your lips twitch as she folds her arms and her gaze slowly travels from the strewn bedsheets to you.

A corner of her mouth twitches.

“Good morning, sunshine.”

You lick your lips to hide your smile. “Hello.”

“Quiet night, huh.”

“Yep.”

She nods, her tongue running along her teeth, and you can see she’s trying to hide a smile, too. “All right. I guess I’ll bring those clothes down by the pool up for you.”

You nod, your face warm despite your smile breaking through. “Thank you.”

“You’re so welcome.“ She raises a finger from her arm, pointing at the bathroom. “Now go and shower, I’ll start to pack for you, you little minx.”

Snorting, you’re grinning now as you quickly dart into the bathroom, pulling the door shut behind yourself.

Oh my God.

You don’t feel embarrassed. You don’t feel self-conscious. It just feels right, all of it.

Letting the blanket drop to the floor, you roll your shoulders and turn the shower on before turning your gaze to the mirror.

Oh, wow.

You look thoroughly debauched in all the best ways, and as your eyes travel down, you can see faint bruises on your hips, on your thigh, and on your knee from where he’d gripped you. It sends a delicious thrill through you, that last night not only lingers on your mind but on your body.

Stop it and get on.

You shower quickly, and after moisturising and wrapping yourself in a towel you pad back into the bedroom. Nat has already nearly finished packing, all your clothes folded so perfectly neatly, and even the bed sheets have been stripped and piled on the floor.

I love her.

She looks up at you, a smile pulling at her lips. “Did you use the vibrator?”

Oh, shit, she really has packed everything for you.

You nearly choke on your spit, your eyebrows raising. “No.”

“Oh, well, what a shame.” Nodding at the wardrobe, she places her hands on her hips. “I’ve left your most comfortable clothes in there, seeing as you’ll be in the car for a while.”

“Thank you.” Darting into the closet, your cheeks warm, you leave the door slightly ajar as you start to dress so you can ask. “Why are we driving and not taking a jet? Surely that’s quicker?”

“It is,” she answers, and you hear her sit on the bed. “Driving gives us a better chance to see if anyone follows, though.”

Oh. That’s right.

You’d nearly forgotten, in all the beauty and joy of yesterday and this morning.

There could be an attack today.

There is going to be an attack, an attempted one at least.

Swallowing hard, you finish dressing in silence, the joy and warmth within you dwindling.

No, no, hold onto it.

Emerging from the closet, you smile at her as she looks at you, holding her hand out for the towel. You give it to her and she rises from the bed, dropping it onto the pile of bedsheets, and you start to fold the remainder of your clothing, Nat rounding the bed to help you.

After several moments, you clear your throat.

“Bucky gave Steve condoms at the beginning of this, huh?”

A glance at her finds that, yep, the smirk’s there.

“There was a bet of sorts. Steve didn’t know why he was given them, just thought it was Barnes being Barnes. Now he owes me $200 dollars, which reminds me—”

“Bucky? $200? What? Why?”

There it is, the smirkiest of smirks.

Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she moves to the door as she points at you. “No time for questions, get on and pack, we’re on my schedule.”

Staring at her as she steps out of the door, you then hear Sam from outside.

“... There are clothes out here? Oh my God...”

—

Standing just outside of the front door, a long, forlorn groan leaves you as Steve tugs on your hand gently.

“Come on, Y/N...”

Taking your last look at the penthouse of your dreams, you release a dramatic sigh. “I guess we’ll always have the memories.”

“Yes, we will,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, both his words and the action making your teeth sink into your lower lip.

Oh, hoooo, yes we will.

Sighing again, you finally release the door-handle and let the door swing shut, turning with him and stepping into the elevator. Sam and Nat stand within it, Nat typing away on her phone, Steve’s bag at her feet, your bags at Sam’s. The elevator doors slide shut as you lean back against the closest wall, Steve’s hand squeezing yours before he releases it and folds his arms across his chest, leaning, too.

Biting at the inside of your lower lip, you gaze at the ground as the elevator descends before, a few moments later, you hear Sam clear his throat, your eyes moving up to him.

He inclines his head at you and Steve, trying not to smile, then raises his hand slightly, pointing. “So, uh... this is... this is now... yeah?”

You smile and stifle a laugh as Steve nods, hearing the smile in his tone. “Yeah.”

Sam nods a few times as his grin breaks through, his eyebrows raised a little. “Well, all right.”

You have to try very hard not to laugh as the elevator continues to descend and eventually halts and opens. You know Sam is desperate to ask for details but also wants to be respectful, and Nat just types away on her phone, glancing up at you both every now and then with a smirk.

Oh my God, she’s not messaging the rest of The Avengers, is she.

Oh my God, I’m meeting them later.

You cross the lobby, a group of agents standing outside, some you recognise from having been in the penthouse on Wednesday, and they split off and climb into three different SUVs. Nat opens the passenger side door of the one closest to you and you climb in, finding it empty, and Steve gets in on the driver’s side, closing the door.

Looking at Nat as you buckle your seatbelt, you raise your eyebrows.

“Are you and Sam not coming with us?”

“Nope. Just you two. We’ll be following close behind.” Closing your door, she smiles widely then strides to the SUV behind you, and, glancing in the wing-mirror, you see Sam climbing into the passenger side.

He waves and you beam, waving back.

Facing forward, you then turn your head to Steve as he follows behind the SUV before him, one hand on the steering wheel. He glances at you and returns your smile, gentle lines at the corners of his eyes.

Slipping his phone out of his pocket, he then hands it to you. “How about some music?”

“Oh, yes.” Taking it, you’re once more greeted by the sight of his lock-screen; you in the vintage dress.

Glancing at him, he meets your gaze.

“Really like that picture,” is all he says, his eyes returning to the road.

Your stomach flipping in delight, you then connect his phone to the SUV and locate your playlist.

As the first song starts to play, you place his phone in the small compartment under the radio and lean back in your seat, exhaling a breath and clasping your hands in your lap.

About ten seconds later, his hand moves from his thigh and rests on yours. Glancing down at it, your lips twitch. Sliding one of your hands closer, your fingers nudge under his and he turns his hand over so you can take it, your fingers lacing.

His hand moves from yours only six times, you know because you count, throughout the whole journey.

Even when you’re both singing away, laughing, it’s there, and it’s so comforting.

Conversation is kept light, neither of you make any mention of the party, and you don’t mind at all. You like this little bubble of happiness you’re in now, and the logical part of your mind is whispering that denial is sometimes maybe a good thing...?

Maybe?

Maybe.

You arrive at the hotel just after 3PM, and after following the SUVs down into an underground garage, (these are just part of my life now) Steve parks up and you have to release his hand. Stepping out, you stretch your legs with a groan, rolling your shoulders.

Car doors slam as the agents get out of their SUVs and so do Nat and Sam.

“How was your journey?” you call to Sam, rotating your ankles one at a time.

He sighs heavily and shakes his head. “I owe Nat $325.”

“What, why?”

He shrugs, opening the boot of the SUV. “We were just passin’ the time.”

“By making bets?” You glance at Nat who’s rounding the front of the SUV, looking rather triumphant.

She shrugs. “It passes the time.”

Making a mental note to never make a bet with her, you follow behind her as Sam and another agent carry your bags and Steve’s. Steve’s at your side, and he hands the keys to the SUV to Nat, who pockets them before fishing her phone out of the other pocket as you all step into an elevator. Four agents step in with you while the rest remain in the garage, typing on tablets or speaking to people on their phones.

The doors slide shut and you and Steve find yourselves at the back, unable to see what button Nat has pressed as she murmurs to Sam. Clasping your hands together, you glance at the dial indicating where the elevator is at on its journey.

You wonder if Nat already has the key to your suite. Suite.

I’m never gonna be able to go back to a normal life after this—

A hand gently settles on your ass.

A sharp inhale leaves you and an agent glances at you. Coughing quickly, you smile at her and she returns it before looking back at her tablet.

Your eyes then dart to Steve beside you, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He keeps his gaze ahead though, and you swiftly do the same, your cheeks heating.

Then his fingers gently caress just slightly, making your back arch a little as you straighten, biting at the inside of your lower lip. You fix your gaze on the dial. It’s climbing higher and higher, maybe Nat does have the key—

His hand slides between your legs. Swallowing the moan that has risen in your throat, you shift your hips a little, pressing them down against his hand. His fingers flex and—

The elevator ‘dings’ as it reaches the requested floor. The doors slide open and the agents spill out, one grabbing the bags along with Sam. Steve’s hand is suddenly gone from you as you both step out, and you’re both pleased and disappointed.

Well, maybe more disappointed.

... God, I hope we get to be alone.

Following Nat down a burgundy carpeted hallway, there’s only two doors in sight, one to to the left, one on the right. A few of the agents peel off and head to the room on the right as Nat leads you to the other door, knocking twice on it. A few moments later, it opens to reveal Bucky, two other agents stood some way behind him.

He leans back against the door, holding it open to let your small group enter, but his eyes immediately find you and Steve, though, his arms folding across his chest, a smile on his lips.

“Hello, you two.”

“Save it,” Steve answers as he passes through, arching an eyebrow, but you catch the beginnings of a smile.

Bucky lifts his hands innocently, raising his eyebrows. “I’m just saying hello.” Closing the door, his gaze turns to you as his expression softens a little. “How’re you doin’, kid.”

You return his light smile, shrugging a shoulder. “Fine, thank you.”

“I’ll bet.”

“Save it.”

Bucky chuckles as he passes behind Steve, clapping a hand on his back, and you glance up at Steve, watching him sigh wearily as you both follow behind his friend into a living room area.

The suite isn’t dissimilar to the penthouse in that it’s modern, furnished beautifully with grey and white furniture, dark wooden flooring and stylish photographs on the wall of the city.

How am I going to be able to return to my apartment after this.

Nat moves away from where she was talking with two agents, both of them immediately turning away and making calls on their phones, and she turns to you and Steve, folding her arms.

“All right, here’s what’s gonna happen, you don’t go anywhere, your suit and your dress is in the wardrobe in the bedroom, if you want food, let Barnes or Agents Hoskins or Glazer know,” she gestures at the two agents who had already been in the room with Bucky and continues, “Sam and I are gonna be in the room across the hall, there’ll be agents outside the door, and you need to be ready for 7:30.”

Oh, no, not alone.

You release a breath as you nod, fighting the urge to salute even as you say, “Yes, ma’am.”

You think you maybe see her lips do the tiniest of twitches, but then she’s crossing the room for the door, agents following her. “Thank you, bye.”

She heads out and Sam nods at you both, placing a hand on your arm and squeezing gently.

“See you both later,” he says quietly, and you can’t help but smile warmly.

“Bye.”

After the door closes behind him, silence falls. It’s now just you, Steve, Bucky, and Agents Hoskins and Glazer. The latter two are stood in the kitchen area, one reading a folder, the other typing away on her phone.

Bucky sits in a plush white chair with a sigh, crossing his legs, and you glance at Steve, his gaze meeting yours, a faint smirk on his lips, before you quickly look away, heat flooding your face.

Oh my God, am I shy again?

You can’t stop thinking about his fingers. Truthfully, you thought you might be left alone and that you could carry on last nights activities, hell, the activities of less than five minutes ago, but no, safety apparently called for a crowd.

“How was the drive?”

Bucky’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts and your eyes dart to him, but he’s gazing at the TV he just turned on, flicking through channels.

“Fine,” you say quickly.

“Yeah, not a lot of traffic,” Steve adds.

Bucky looks at you both, eyes going between you, and the corners of his mouth lift. “That’s good.”

I am gonna murder you.

“How ‘bout we watch something together, huh?”

Steve nods, hands in his pockets. “Sure.”

“Uhm...” Both of them pause and look at you as you start to speak, your cheeks burning because of the God damn elephant in the room and you’re now turned on and nothing can be done about it. You gesture behind you. “... I’m just gonna use the bathroom. Maybe have a shower, too.”

You can’t look at Steve because he’ll just know what you want.

“All right, have fun,” Bucky says, smiling widely, and is he a mind reader because I feel like he is.

You match his smile briefly as you take your bag, and then you turn and head for where you hope the bedroom is. Behind you, Bucky switches channels again and you hear some kind of a game, a crowd cheering. What you don’t see is Steve’s eyes following you.

Pushing a heavy wooden door open, you shuffle in, holding your bag with both hands, and let it close behind you after you step in, surveying the room.

Everything is either grey, white or red, except for the wardrobe and chest of drawers which are made of a dark brown wood. The bed is enormous, plush pillows covering the headboard. Placing your bag on the floor, you head to the en-suite.

Washing your hands a few minutes later, you dry them and head back into the bedroom, lying back on the bed as you pull your phone out of your pocket to check your messages.

in your group chat with Bridget and Dolly, they’re eagerly awaiting photos of the hotel, so you snap a few of the bedroom and what you can get of the bathroom from your position. You’re seconds away from giddily telling them you and Steve slept together last night when you remember you’re already meant to have... in fact you’ve told them you have... several times... in multiple ways and positions...

God, I can’t wait for today to be over then my friends and I can scream with joy at each other. We can go out for brunch and cry into our cocktails as I tell them everything and how much I love them and how much I love Steve’s dic—

A light knock on the door has you sitting up quickly, standing, even, and calling, “Come in.”

It opens and Steve enters, holding his bag and smiling lightly.

Do my thoughts actually just summon him.

“Hello,” you say softly, unable to stop a smile as you place your phone on the bedside table.

“Hey.” The door closes behind him and he lifts his bag a little. “Thought I’d bring mine in, too, get it out of the way.”

Your eyebrows raise as your smile widens, your stomach flipping a little. “Oh, really?”

He chuckles, setting the bag down before his hands go into his pockets, moving closer to you. “That’s exactly what Buck said, in that tone, too.”

“Well, he and I are made for each other.”

Letting out a breath, a 'God help me’ sigh, perhaps, he reaches out to you as you smile widely, his arms sliding around your waist and pulling you against him. “Let’s shut you up, huh...”

Your laugh is muffled by his lips on yours, your arms instantly going around his neck. Your lips move slowly against one another, savouring each other and the little shred of privacy you now have.

Humming softly against his lips, your finger tips stroke at the nape of his neck. “Mmh, I said I was going to shower...”

His hand caresses up and down your back as he murmurs, “What d’you know, I think I’ll have one, too...”

You’re smiling before he’s even finished speaking, lips brushing against his. “I think it’s going to be very obvious to everyone what we’re doing...”

His head bows and he trails kisses down your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin. “I think it already is...”

Inhaling a breath at the feel of his mouth, warmth pooling in your lower stomach, you bite at your lower lip. “Mmh, fine...” His lips return to yours and you smile against them as he kisses you firmly, a hand sliding down your ass. Pressing another kiss to your lips he then releases you, kicking his shoes off and unbuckling his belt.

Biting at your lower lip, moving backwards, you point towards your bag, nearly knocking against the bathroom door. “I stole some of that shower gel from the penthouse, can you grab it for me, please? Should be somewhere on top.”

“Isn’t there shower gel in there?” He tugs his shirt off, your eyes instantly going to his body.

“Uh...” Your eyes quickly return to his as he drops his shirt to the floor, but he caught you staring, an eyebrow arching as he smiles. “... Oh, well, yeah, but I like my stolen shower gel.”

“All right, all right...” He moves to your bag as you dart into the bathroom, heading to the shower and turning it on.

It’s huge, taking up the whole of the back wall, no door to it, just a glass partition that stops a metre or so from the wall. After testing the temperature, you turn and find Steve stood in the doorway.

“What’s this?”

“What—”

You look at his hand, and he’s holding... your vibrator. You stare at it, your lips parted.

“Uh...” He has to know what it is. Your gaze meets his, and from his darkened eyes he definitely knows what it is. “... That is... my vibrator.” Your lips are twitching even as you say it, your face warm.

He nods, his jaw moving slightly. “Huh.” He takes a few more steps into the room. “You use it?”

“Yep.”

“Recently?”

“Yep.”

He’s stood before you now, the toy still held up in his hand, and you can’t tear your gaze from his.

There’s a rougher edge to his voice as he asks, “Have you used it and thought about me?”

You lick your lips, his eyes following the movement. “Yes.”

“How many times.”

“A lot.”

“Were you thinking about me when you used it on Monday.”

Your mouth drops open as you stare at him, a smile trying to break through even as you press your thighs together. “You bastard, you were listening—”

A lazy smirk settles on his lips as he tilts his head. “I heard, there’s a difference.”

“Sure, they said it was meant to be whisper-quiet so—”

His lips capture yours, his free hand sliding around you and settling on your lower back, pulling you hard against him. You moan into his mouth as his tongue finds yours, stroking. Moving you backwards, the kiss breaks as he starts to pull at your clothes, reaching his hand out to set the toy on the sink.

“It’s waterproof, bring it,” you say quickly, slightly breathlessly.

“Perfect.”

Cupping his face, you pull his head towards yours and kiss him fiercely, stopping only so he can remove your clothes as you push his jeans and briefs down. Stumbling backwards, he keeps you upright and moving and you have no idea where he’s taking you until you feel the heat of the water close by, and then cool tile on your back. Releasing a breath at the sensation of it, he takes the opportunity to sweep his tongue into your mouth before his head dips and his lips go to your neck, the warm water pouring over your bodies.

Your eyes remain closed, your arms around him, gripping at him, as you moan, and then you feel the tip of the toy at your inner thigh, vibrating gently and nearing your pussy.

“Tell me what I do when you think about me,” he murmurs against your jaw, just as the vibrator glides against your slit.

Sometime later, when he’s wrung every orgasm he tells you you can give him out of you, with the help of his cock and the vibrator, you’re trying to slow your heart rate and recover, your head against his chest.

As you catch your breath, he washes every inch of your body gently, his fingers soothing and massaging. He presses soft kisses to your lips every now and then, too, making you hum with each one.

Afterwards, he wraps you up in a large, fluffy towel and steers you out into the bedroom. You start to get some feeling back into your legs when you lie back on the bed, sighing contentedly, your eyes closed. You feel him lie beside you, kissing at your cheek and forehead gently.

Parting the towel, his finger tips glide up your thigh before he pauses. Opening your eyes, you watch him frown lightly, and you glance down, looking at the bruises on your knee and thigh and hip, a few more fresh ones blossoming from the shower. It never hurts when he grips at you.

Looking up at you, his frown lingers. “I did that, didn’t I?”

Reaching out, your finger tips caress his cheek as you smile softly. “Yeah, but I like it.”

“Really?” He looks doubtful, maybe even a little sheepish.

Gripping his forearm, you tug him closer and he lets you, your lips gently meeting his.

“I like it a lot,” you murmur, your finger tips stroking through his wet hair.

He smiles and relaxes against you, kissing you lingeringly.

A knock at the door has your head drawing back swiftly and him sighing.

Bucky’s voice drifts through from the other side.

“Hey, I’m guessin’ you two need some food now, right?”

—

You look at your reflection in the mirror, your heart quickening a little.

You’re nervous. Only getting only more and more nervous by the minute.

A glance at the clock tells you it’s 7:26pm. You’d put off getting ready until the last minute.

Releasing a long breath, trying to steady your breathing, you adjust the dress you’d chosen. You’d opted for the vintage dress, in all its satin gold, flutter sleeves glory. Turning slightly, you inspect the back. Material is gathered at your lower back, falling down in the smallest of trains.

Turning your body forward again, you swallow and nod at yourself.

You can do this. You won’t be alone.

Slipping your shoes on, you then move to the bed and scoop your phone up.

There’s a message in the group chat:

Dolly ✨: When are you gonna get there?? We have the livestream on just for you two!! These other people are boring!!

A smile on your lips, you answer with:

You: GOSH I love my two biggest fans. At around 8 I think. Wish me luck!!

There’s a message from Aaron, too. A guilty knot twists in your stomach. You haven’t really thought about him much, he hasn’t really messaged you over the last couple of days, but he sent one an hour ago saying:

Hope you’re okay, good luck tonight! What time will you be there? Some friends and I are gonna watch the livestream.

You pause, before answering with:

Hey! I’m good, thank you, hope you are too, we’re gonna be there by about 8. Have a nice night!

Pushing away any more thoughts about him and the weird feeling it gives you to message him now, you slip your phone into your clutch bag.

Beside the gun Nat had given you. Just in case.

Taking a breath, you then head for the door.

Opening it, you peer out. Agents Hoskins and Glazer are stood by a window, gazing out, and Steve and Bucky sit in chairs opposite the TV, watching what must be the livestream of people arriving for the party. Bucky’s still in civilian clothing, but Steve had changed before you then gone out to check a few things with Bucky.

God, he’s gorgeous in his classic black and white tuxedo with a silk red bowtie.

Inhaling another breath, you step out and close the door quietly, moving across to where they’re sat. They hear you approach and turn their heads, Bucky smiling widely, and Steve—

Steve takes you all in, head to toe, awe passing across his features as he smiles.

“Wow...”

“Thanks,” you murmur as your face flushes, your bag clasped infront of you.

“That’s the dress, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Your smile widens almost shyly as he holds your gaze.

“Give us a twirl,” Bucky calls and you tut as you look at him, but you’re smiling still and you turn slowly, Bucky clapping as Steve chuckles.

“Gorgeous,” Bucky announces as Steve just gazes at you, and he opens his mouth to—

There’s a knock at the front door and then a nano-second later the door opens and all your heads turn to watch Nat enter, looking fucking resplendent in a flowing, halter-neck, midnight-blue gown, her red hair tumbling down her shoulders. You can see agents in the hallway behind her, but Sam enters, too, in a gorgeously patterned suit jacket and black trousers.

“All right—” Nat begins as Steve stands, but then Sam catches sight of you both.

“Oh, yes, look at you both, God damn gorgeous—”

“Yeah, you both look amazing,” Nat interrupts, swiftly continuing, “Now, you both need to wear an earpiece, okay, just in case and so we all know what’s going on at all times. Only we three will be able to talk to each other, though...”

An agent is already moving towards you, securing the tiniest of earpieces into your ear. She does the same with Steve as Nat carries on.

“... as you’ll be wearing these bracelets, too. Stops the line getting jammed and means I can communicate with you both directly. Press down on the gem and talk and we’ll all be able to hear you.”

The agent clasps a thin, solid gold band around your wrist, a blue gem in the middle.

Nat nods, and presses two fingers against her ear, and you hear her voice also come through your earpiece as she speaks. “All right, everyone, this is it, you know what to do.”

Removing her fingers, Nat gestures for you and Steve to follow Sam through the door.

Fucking hell.

All right, it’s time.

“Have fun, you, two,” Bucky says, and you look to him, frowning.

“Are you not coming?”

“No, I’m gonna be elsewhere.”

Oh, right.

Making yourself smile, you nod. “See you later.”

“Absolutely.” You must look as nervous as you feel because he’s smiling gently and his features have softened and he hasn’t cracked a single joke.

His eyes lift to meet Steve’s and he nods at him.

“See you later, Buck,” Steve says, and then you feel him take your hand, squeezing it lightly.

Swallowing, you then move towards the door with him.

You’re quiet as the small procession heads down to the garage. Steve is, too, while the agents all murmur to one another, Nat murmuring to Sam. Going over plans, probably. For if everything goes right. For if everything goes wrong.

You find yourself once more climbing into an SUV, but Sam drives now as Nat takes the passenger seat, you and Steve behind. He’s still holding your hand.

Nat makes calls for the whole journey, double-checking people are in certain positions, asking if people are there, asking where Stark is, asking if anything’s caught their attention. You block it out, gazing out of the window.

Traffic is busy, as expected, but it thins out a little as you near the Tower, the street cordoned off for the event and people wanting to avoid it. Looking out, you get your first glimpse of the Tower in person. It’s huge, which you knew already, but up close it’s even bigger than you’d expected, stretching right up towards the sky.

And before it, leading up to the front doors, is a red carpet and crowds of people and paparazzi held back by metal barriers, cameras flashing every second. As the SUV slows to join the queue of cars, each inching forward as people get out and greet the crowd, you grip your bag and Steve’s hand.

Oh, fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

This is it.

Before you know it, it’s all happening too fast, the SUV is at the carpet. Nat gets out and Steve’s hand leaves yours as he gets out, too. People scream and cameras flash wildly at the sight of him, and he smiles politely and waves, and then he’s turning to you and offering his hand. Swallowing hard, you take it gladly, holding it tightly, and slide across the seats. Sliding out, as soon as your shoes touch the ground another surge of screams sound as the cameras flash at you, and you fix a smile on your lips.

As you straighten and step forward, barely feeling the cold, Steve closes the door behind you and then Nat’s there, gesturing towards the stairs that lead up to the main walkway to the Tower. You step onto the red carpet, climbing the stairs, your free hand holding the skirt of your dress up a little so you don’t step on it, and the screaming is still going on.

Moving off the stairs, you can barely hear what people are saying as you and Steve start to walk down the carpet, Nat keeping you moving.

“... love you!”

“... sign my...”

“... please!”

“... congratulations!”

“... Steve...!”

A few local celebrities and even some major celebrities are there, too, signing autographs and talking to people and taking selfies, but Nat isn’t letting you pause, which you’re very grateful for. Your smile remains fixed in place, though, and Steve waves a few times, barely feeling how tight your grip is on his hand.

There’s a sponsor stand towards the end of the carpet, near the detectors that have been set up by the front doors, one side filled with the logos of companies that provide the Avengers and the Tower with what they need or sponsor them, all the guests having to stop before it and have a photograph taken.

Nat brings you both to a halt with a raised hand, a small queue having formed, and Steve’s thumb brushes against your skin. Gazing up at him, he smiles softly and you return it, reminding yourself to take a breath.

“You okay?” he murmurs, leaning his head a little closer so you can hear him.

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Yeah, I just...” You wrinkle your nose, leaning closer to him as your smile widens a little. “... Wish we were at home, y’know?”

You expect him to laugh, maybe, or at least for his own smile to grow, but he just nods after a moment, then his lips lifts a little more.

“Yeah, I—”

Another set of screams come from the right side of the carpet, behind him, but its not in delight.

Stiffening, you stare over his shoulder, hearing a commotion of some kind but unable to see it because he’s suddenly turning, pushing you behind him and shielding you. You hear maybe two, three metal barriers fall, clanging together, as people continue to scream. Your hands grip the back of Steve’s tuxedo jacket, and he moves a hand back, resting it against your hip.

You can’t see what’s happening but you can see people running up the carpet, agents and security guards going to whatever’s happening, some forming a circle around you and Steve, and you hear yelling and grunting and what must be knuckles connecting with flesh, and then you do it, you peer around Steve and you see them.

Three men in civilian clothing lying on the ground, struggling and thrashing against the hold they’ve been placed in by agents. Nat has her knee on the back of one of them, a large knife with a serrated side a foot away from his hand on the carpet. As he tries to reach for it, her other leg lashes out, her heel striking his hand and he cries out. As an agent takes over, handcuffing his hands behind his back, she stands, her gaze sweeping the area. There’s a gap in the crowd, fallen barriers before it, where the men must have charged through. You’re gripping Steve’s arm now, staring, and he’s still keeping you behind him.

“America is dead!” one of the men shouts, making you jolt as your eyes dart to him. He’s thrashing, trying to get up even though his hands and legs have been tied, and he’s staring right at you and Steve.

You faintly recognise him, but before you can place him he’s being hauled up to his feet and dragged down the carpet, groups of people giving a wide berth, pressed against the barrier.

"Suspects are being taken away. Sam, they’re coming to you.” You suddenly hear Nat’s voice in your ear, and it takes you a second to remember the earpiece.

As the other two men are taken away, agents dispersing to talk to people in the crowd, Nat turns and heads towards you. The group of agents around you remain, and Nat lowers her voice as she enters the small circle.

“We've identified two of them,” she murmurs to Steve, “They’re flagged on our databases.” She then looks at you. “Y/N, one of them used to work at your office as a security guard.”

You nod slightly. “I thought I recognised him.” You swallow hard. “Is that... Is that it? Is this...” You leave ‘done’ unsaid, yet you know the answer before you even hear it.

Nat’s lips press together for a moment before she shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

Steve’s hand on your hip is now sliding around your waist as his body turns, holding you against him, and you lean into him, your heart sinking. You’d desperately hoped that that would be it, that this group was actually amateur, had done something reckless in a desperate attempt, but...

Anxiety is fluttering in your stomach and you just want to be home.

Nat steps back and gestures for you both to head towards the front doors of the building. Your feet start moving, though your brain is slow to catch up.

Shove it away, shove it away, shove it away...

Agents hold the doors open for you, and you both pass through the detectors without a sound, and then you’re stepping into the foyer of the Avengers Tower. A few people are dotted about, trying to see what’s going on, but you’re ushered to an elevator. Agents pile in with you and you close your eyes, just focusing on your breathing. Steve’s arm has remained around you, and his finger tips gently press into your side. Looking up at him, you give him a light smile, knowing he’s silently asking how you are.

He doesn’t return the smile, though, but after a moment his head bows and he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, making your eyes close. It’s a lovely, tender gesture, but at the same time his arm is leaving you.

It feels like a goodbye.

As his lips leave you and you look up at him to try and see his expression, your heart pounding, the elevator doors slide open and he’s taking your hand. The agents step out and you follow them down a corridor to another foyer area, some people milling about, talking, laughing and drinking. They glance towards you both as you pass, murmuring to each other and gasping in delight.

Two large doors are open on the other side and within is the party. It’s full and noisy, a 70s disco song blaring, and the agents start to fan out a little as you near the door. Entering, your heart pounds. The room is huge.

There’s two floors, the upper one looking down upon a dance floor, bar and a sea of people, while it houses it’s own bar, a wide balcony and tables to sit at. Christmas trees are in every corner, stretching right up towards the ceiling, and they’re covered in decorations verging on tacky. Tinsel and other decorations adorn the walls and railings of the stairs leading up to the next floor and there’s even a snow machine in one corner.

The agents are nowhere to be seen now, blending in with the crowd, and Steve must have caught sight of someone because as you glance up at him, he smiles and he’s moving and you’re going with him, keeping ahold of his hand. You hear some whisperings from people as you pass them, feel their eyes on you.

“Is that her?”

“What’s her name again?”

“Oh my God, I need to get a photo.”

“That’s her?”

You ignore any more murmurings as the crowd thins out and you suddenly find yourself stood before two burgundy couches, on a platform, and your throat is suddenly dry and you’re trying to swallow and calm your breathing because—

You’re about to be introduced to the rest of the fucking Avengers and the SHIELD team.

“Steve Rogers.” Tony Stark raises his eyebrows as he grins and stands, holding his arms out. He’s dressed in a white tuxedo with a green bowtie that has tiny baubles on it.

“Hey, Tony, hey, guys. Great party.”

You’re smiling, staring at Tony Stark, trying not to look at Pepper Potts, Bruce Banner, Maria Hill, Jim Rhodes and Happy Hogan.

“Oh, thanks. Added my own personal touch to it, I have touched all of this.”

“I’m sure.” Steve’s arm is suddenly back around you again as he looks at you, and you hope you don’t look as fucking terrified as you feel. Smiling softly, he continues, “This is Y/N.”

He doesn’t introduce you as his fiancée, probably because, as you gather from their looks, they all know.

Tony’s eyes meet yours, looking at you over his glasses. “Wow, look at you, hi. Charmed, pleasured, honoured to meet the future Mrs America.”

“Thank you,” you say with a slight laugh as you look between them all, nodding a greeting as they either say hello or nod back.

Placing a hand on his chest, he settles the other on Pepper’s shoulder, who lets out a sigh. “Rest assured, Pep’ and I will pay for everything, of course, every single thing, from the American flags with your faces on them to the American flag you’ll be wearing as a wedding dress, I’m guessing?”

You laugh a little easier this time as Pepper knocks his hand away, trying not to smile. “Stop it, Tony.”

“You’re the worst,” Steve also sighs, his arm no longer around you, both hands going into his pockets.

Don’t think about it.

“Am I? I think I’ve nailed the theme you want perfectly—”

“Steve!” a voice booms to the right, like a crack of thunder—

Oh. Ha.

Thor, the God of Thunder approaches, beaming from ear to ear, looking very handsome in a grey suit. “Hello, Steve, good to see you!” Rounding the couch, he embraces Steve in a large hug, rocking him slightly.

“You, too, Thor,” Steve chuckles as he pats his back. When Thor releases him, clapping him on the shoulder with a force that would probably knock the average person off their feet, Steve gestures at you. “This is Y/N.”

Do I bow, what the hell do I do.

You settle for just sticking your hand out towards the god, beaming. “Hello, it’s wonderful to meet you.”

Thor tilts his head, his grin lingering. “Oh, this is the lovely lady who has charmed our Captain?” Taking your hand, he lifts it and presses a gentle kiss to it, and the mirth dancing in his eyes has your beam relaxing into a genuine smile. “I can see why he has been so charmed.”

“All right, all right, ease up.” Steve smacks the back of his hand against his shoulder as Thor releases your hand with a laugh, and you’re about to speak when a voice cuts in.

“Who wants to get drunk off rich people’s champagne, huh?”

Clint Barton has suddenly appeared, a tray of countless glasses of champagne in his hands, grinning.

They all nearly lunge forward with sighs of ‘yes please, thank you,’ and Thor takes two, handing one to you, before taking another second one for himself.

“No throwing up this time from anyone, please, okay,” Tony announces before he raises his glass and leads you all in a toast.

“To Christmas and good cheer and good will and drink to all people!”

You cheers with them, finding your smile is easier, and you’re actually starting to relax.

Alcohol will help with that, you think as you take a very long sip.

Pepper gestures you over, patting the seat beside her that Tony had vacated as he moves closer to Steve, and you sit, striking up a conversation with her, Maria and Bruce.

Over the next half an hour, they’re all very kind to you, asking you what you do, how you are, about your life, and you’re fascinated by everything they have to say. Thor joins in at one point, and has your cheeks and stomach hurting from how much you laugh at his stories.

You accept a refill of your drink every time it’s offered, finding it’s soothing your nerves.

This is actually a good party.

70s and 80s music is playing, blaring, more like, with the occasional Christmas song, and everyone is having a good, good time. Especially you.

You’re now sat with Happy and Clint, Maria and Pepper having gone to dance, and you hear someone call your name gently. Turning your head, you see Sam, smiling lightly at you and you gasp as you get up, grinning and moving around the table towards him. Hugging him tightly, he chuckles slightly, his hands patting your back, and when you pull back, your hands settle on his arms, your grin remaining.

“Hello, you!”

“Hey,” he answers a little quieter, his hands also gently gripping yours. “You havin’ fun, huh?”

You release a breath as you nod. “Yesss, sure am.” Your eyes then widen. “Oh, wait ‘til I tell you,” you pause to lick your lips, “Thor says he’s gonna take me to Asgard, and Clint says he’s gonna show me how to use a bow, and Happy laughed at one of my jokes, and Pepper’s so nice, and Bruce is, too, he did a tequila shot with me—”

“Okay, okay,” Sam laughs, and you don’t catch the concern in his eyes. “So, where’s Steve? He done a shot with you yet?”

He notices your grin falter for a brief moment before you’re smiling again, tilting your head and looking over to where Steve stands with Thor and Tony, laughing about something Thor just said.

“Oh, no, he’s talking with them, he’s just, we’re just giving each other some space.”

Truthfully, you haven’t seen Steve look at you once in the last half an hour.

He’s pulling away.

Fuck off, shove it away.

Releasing another breath, shoving it all away, your grin returns as you look at Sam. “Will you do a shot with me?”

He takes a breath with a small smile. “I can get you a drink of water?”

You pull a face. “Oh, boo... actually my throat is quite dry, that would be great.” Brightening, you release him as he nods.

“All right, wait here.”

You nod and give him a small salute before sitting on the edge of the couch as he heads off, your hands in your lap. Your gaze follows him, admiring his suit jacket once again because it is gorgeous, and he smiles as they cheer and greet him, which makes you smile. He talks to them for a minute or so before gesturing to the bar, and then he taps Steve’s arm, inclining his head, and both of them head towards it. Sam leans a little closer to him, and you can tell whatever he’s murmuring, it isn’t good.

Shove it away.

Looking away, you watch a few people dancing before realising you need the bathroom. Leaning over, you grab your bag that’s beside Happy, who instantly turns his head to you.

“Where are you goin’?”

You point two fingers to your right. “Bathroom, am I allowed?”

He nods and you beam before turning and moving off of the platform. Moving through the crowd, you nod your head to the beat of the song, mouthing along to the words. An agent you recognise from the hotel suddenly appears before you and before she can speak you ask her where the bathroom is. She leads you out of the room, noise levels dropping, and points across the foyer to a small queue of people outside a door.

Thanking her, you move across the floor and join it.

Clasping your bag in front of you with both hands, you sigh quietly, focusing on the music that you can still hear.

I wonder if there’s food upstairs... Probably is... I’d kill for some—

“Oh, excuse me, dear?”

Turning your head, you smile instantly at seeing an older woman approach, a warm smile on her lips.

She looks a little sheepish as she laughs slightly. “I’m so sorry to disturb you, but you’re Captain Rogers’s fiancée, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.” For who knows how much longer. “Hello, lovely to meet you.”

“Oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you!”

You shake her hand and she looks beside herself with joy.

“So, what do you do here, then?”

Your smile lingers as you shake your head. “Oh, no, I don’t work here, I work at June & Mayflower Publishing, if you’ve heard of it?”

Her brow had started to dip slightly, before she brightens again. “Oh, so you’re a book publisher?”

“No, I’m Head of Marketing.”

“Oh.”

There’s silence. Your smile is falling as she looks at you, and you don’t even want to speculate at what she’s thinking.

You’re speaking before you even realise. “I still read all the books though, I need to get a feel of them to know how to sell them.”

“Right, yes, of course,” she smiles politely. “I’m sure it’s a lovely job, it’s just not what I was expecting, I was expecting something...”

‘Better’ or ‘more’ is left unsaid.

And you’re speaking before you realise it again. “Right, whatever the fuck that means.”

She blinks, her mouth dropping open, and you smile widely.

“I’ll... I’ll leave you be.”

Watching her swiftly walk away, your smile drops and you exhale a breath.

Shove it away.

No one else has joined the queue, so by the time you get in to the bathroom, someone else passing you by as you enter, you’re alone.

Good.

... Why is it whenever you get into a bathroom, you realise how tipsy you are.

Blowing out a breath and entering a stall, you close the door and lock it, place your bag on a shelf and start to hike your dress up.

The bathroom door opens and two women enter, their heels clicking on the wooden floor.

“... right?”

You hear them stand by the mirrors, unzipping bags.

“Yeah, I just don’t get it.”

“Peggy I got, first love, you know.”

You freeze.

“Sharon, uh, she’s gorgeous and, like, this super agent or whatever, and I read he’s been on a couple of dates since then with other agents but... this girl? I don’t get it.”

“Neither do,” one says, talking in a way that sounds like she’s re-doing her make-up. “Then again, we don’t know her.”

“Yeah, of course, totally, but... you just get a feel for these things, don’t you? I just... I didn’t see Steve with someone like her, you know? I thought he’d go with another agent or someone high powered, like someone who does stuff, you know?”

As the other woman hums her agreement, you stare at the floor, the skirt of your dress still gripped in your hands.

You can’t shove it away.

They’ve struck right at your Achilles’ heel. Said all the reasons, in your saddest and lowest moments, you’d told yourself you couldn’t be with Steve, that he wouldn’t think of you that way, not just that it was because he was your friend.

You can’t help but indulge your insecurities, thinking about what people think of you, how they must look at you and think ‘why her?’, what Steve must think when he hears that because he must have heard people say it. You and Steve haven’t exactly but a label on this new version of your relationship, but it’s been made pretty clear by you both that you’re together and... The life that could be flashes before your eyes; avoiding social media, constantly telling yourself you’re worthy, ignoring looks and words, ignoring assumptions, challenging views before being confronted with another, no privacy...

Maybe those three glasses of champagne and the shot of tequila hadn’t been a good idea.

You faintly hear the women leave, still talking, the door closing behind them.

It’s several minutes before you can muster up the strength, courage and energy to leave the bathroom.

Gripping your bag tightly, you stand outside of the door, staring across the foyer at the open doors. The music’s still blaring, people are still laughing, still chatting, still having a good time.

I want to go home.

Movement in the corner of your eye brings your gaze to a small group, and you notice Nat at the centre of it. She’s talking swiftly to the group of, you assume, agents, her features tight.

You frown, your eyes moving between them, trying to gauge their reactions and see what—

“Y/N?”

Your head turns to find Steve standing a few feet away, his hands in his pockets, a light frown on his features.

“Steve.” There’s a touch of surprise to your tone as you look at him, and his frown deepens a little.

“You okay?”

You lick your lips, your heart starting to beat faster. “Uhm... Can I have a word?”

He’s still frowning. “Sure, where—”

“This way.”

You’re already walking, heading to your right down a hallway, away from the party. You hear him follow behind you a moment later. You have no idea where you’re going, but you take the next left and the floor opens out into some kind of balcony walkway, elevators to your left, a glass railing that overlooks the main foyer to your right.

Clearing your throat, you stop and turn, clasping your bag against your stomach.

His eyes linger on you, concern filling them as he comes to a stop. “What’s goin’ on?”

You clear your throat again, licking your suddenly dry lips, and shift. “Steve, I, uh... I, I don’t think you should be with me.”

There. It’s out in the world now. The beginning of the end.

His mouth moves slightly as he stares at you, his frown deeper now. “... What?”

You shift again, your breathing slightly unsteady as you try to keep your heart together. “I’m, uhm... Well, for lack of a better word, I’m normal.”

He continues to stare at you. “... Okay?”

You shrug, finding it tricky to take a deep enough breath that you need. “I’m a normal person, I’m not, I’m not a SHIELD agent, I’m not some sort of, I’m not a superhero, I know we see each other a lot and have known each other for quite a while but maybe you don’t see me enough because I’m, I’m so normal, I get up in the morning, turn my alarm off, get to work and deal with shitty people all day, actually that’s not fair, most of them are actually really nice, and, uhm, then I go home and that’s it. I don’t change the world, I don’t have an impact on peoples lives, really, and I’m not, I’m not someone you should be with, Steve.”

His frown is gone, but you can’t tell what he’s feeling now as silence lingers.

“Why,” he says after several moments.

Your eyebrows raise as you lift a hand. “Did you not hear everything I just said? You’re America’s hero, you’re you, you’re so good and kind and fucking gorgeous and just a good person and I’m just... I’m just me.”

You hate that that statement lingers in the air as silence falls again. You hate that you’ve worked so hard to love yourself yet the world has made you think you’re not enough. You hate that you’re doing this, sabotaging a good thing.

Steve exhales and his shoulders seem to drop a little even as he smiles softly. “You are you, Y/N. And that’s what makes you so damn incredible.” He then releases a slightly exasperated breath, his hands going to his hips and you realise suddenly that he’s wrestling with something. “Y/N, if... if anything that’s why I don’t think you should be with me.”

Despite everything you’ve just said, it’s like a slap in the face.

“What.”

He shrugs as he gazes at you, resignation written across his features. “You like your life, Y/N. You like going out to bars and restaurants and not being bothered or being the centre of attention, and with me...” He shakes his head. “When we were talking about being able to go out to places like normal people, I just, I don’t know if that’s always gonna be possible with me. It isn’t, in fact.” He exhales another, shorter breath, swallowing lightly. “This is my life. There’s gonna be threats, and parties and public events and people staring and normal just isn’t possible with me.”

In that moment, as anger and despair and love surges within you, you know you’ve been a fool.

Stepping towards him, your arms at your sides, your features softening, you shake your head. “I don’t care. I don’t want to go to any of those places, bars, restaurants, if you aren’t there. This week, this has shown me what it is like to be with you and I meant it when I said it and I mean it now, I’ll take it all if it means I get to be with you and have you in my life.” You smile softly, taking a step closer as you faintly hear an elevator ‘ding’, the doors sliding open. “I do like my life, but I like you being a part of it more, I like my life because you’re in it, Steve, because I—”

Steve’s arms shoot out towards you, his hands pushing—

The ground trembles as an explosion erupts.

Glass shatters and rains down and people scream as metal groans and pieces of the building fall.

You don’t know what happened, but when you next open your eyes, you’re on the ground and you can’t work out if you’re in the same spot or if you’ve been thrown some distance.

Your ears are ringing and one side of your body aches from when you must have landed hard, and there’s something wet trickling down your temple and cheek.

Groaning, unable to take in a deep enough breath, you lift your head. There’s dust everywhere, filling the air, debris scattered around, the faint, disembodied sound of people shouting and screaming, and an orange flickering some distance away.

Managing to push yourself up, your arms shaking, you’re unsteady on your feet, your head spinning. Hissing as you touch your fingers to your temple, feeling the wetness, you try not to think about the wound you feel.

Coughing on the dust, you move forward, trying to see through it and the darkness. The orange flickering is ahead, and you start to feel the heat of it. You trip over something and hiss out a breath in surprise, looking down. Your bag lies on the ground and you bend down to pick it up, your head pounding. Wiping the dust from it, you stare at it, your brain trying to catch up with what’s just happened.

“Y/N!”

A voice you recognise reaches your ears. Lifting your head, a shape moves towards you, calling your name again.

Steve’s there suddenly, reaching out for you, grabbing your hand, and he’s bent slightly, probably to avoid whatever horrors may come next and to see through the dust, his bowtie gone, and you take his hand instantly.

“This way!”

Your feet move as he pulls you along, manoeuvring around rubble and glass. You can’t see where he’s leading you but he knows this building better than most so you just follow behind him, trying to keep up.

He opens a door and pulls you through, and he releases your hand as he turns to close it. You take a few more steps into the dust free room, coughing again. As you massage your chest and grimace slightly, you register where you are. You thought he might lead you into a stairwell or a safe-room, but you’re in a conference room, the normality and blandness of it almost absurd. There’s a long table, maybe about fifteen chairs around it, no windows, a screen on—

“Y/N.”

You freeze, eyes wide.

You had recognised the voice before.

Now you realise it hadn’t been Steve’s.

And you know who it is.

Turning, your hands shaking, you look at him.

“... Joe?”

—

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

Powerless Part 2 (Branjie) -athena2

A/N: Here’s part 2! Thank you to everyone read Part 1!

Vanessa settles onto her couch with a bowl of chips so large it almost takes her super-strength to hold it.

Please let things be quiet tonight. Please let things be quiet tonight. She repeats her mantra as Netflix queues up. She needs a night off, her entire body aching from last night’s drug-ring takedown. Unfortunately, super-healing didn’t come with the whole firebug package.

Netflix just flashes onto the homescreen when her bracelet beeps. Silk insisted they were better than phones, and untraceable to boot. “For fuck’s sake!” Vanessa growls. “Can’t these people keep it together for one night?!”

She reluctantly receives the call. If only she could harness that untraceability. Sometimes she wishes she could just disappear and never be found.

“We got trouble, Vanjie,” Silk’s voice booms.

Vanjie now, she tells herself, flicking off the TV and almost shedding a tear as she puts her chips down. No more Vanessa tonight.

“Of course we do. And I just wanted to eat some damn chips,” she replies. She shoves the communication device in her ear and tugs on her crimson red bodysuit, giant V across the chest.

“Chips gon’ have to wait. It’s that Frost bitch. She’s at the science lab on 29th. You might want to hurry.”

“On it.” Vanjie ends the call, steps into her knee-high black boots, and fixes the black mask over her face, not that her identity is even worth hiding. She didn’t have anyone left that she cared about, that she needed to protect her identity for. And it’s not like her identity mattered. She could announce her full name on the news and no one would care. No one even knew she had survived the fire. Vanessa didn’t matter. Vanjie did. It was Vanjie people called for when they needed help, when they wanted someone to save them. Vanjie who they trusted to keep them safe and wipe out the bad guys.

Vanessa was nothing. Vanjie was the hero.

She’s on her motorcycle and down the street like a bat out of hell, reviewing what she knows about Frost, which, admittedly, isn’t much. Silk ticks off the points in her ear comm: ice powers, destroyed two science labs in the past month, sent three people to the hospital with hypothermia last week, associates unknown. Silk suspects she works for some secret organization, which could be helpful information, but the whole point of a secret organization is to be, well, secret, so they had no leads on that either.

She slams on the brakes in front of the lab, her match-stick short legs getting caught on the seat as she dismounts and sending her sprawling on her face. At least no one’s around to see her look so un-like a badass.

The front doors are shattered into a pool of twinkling glass and shiny ice crystals.

“She froze the security system,” Vanjie tells Silk. “No cops yet.”

Vanjie struts through the broken glass like it’s a runway, excitement coursing through her veins. No cops, and Frost is inside the building like a rat in a cage. Maybe this could be the night she finally nabs the bitch.

She tears down the hall so fast she runs right into the ice bitch, who towers over Vanjie even in her heeled boots. A chill spreads across Vanjie’s chest as Frost’s coldness seeps through the blonde’s royal blue spandex suit that wraps around her like a second skin. She’s got a nice body, Vanjie admits, admiring the green utility belt that cinches her waist. The obnoxiously bright neon green mask distracts from the soft green of her eyes, rising to a smooth, pale forehead and short blonde hair.

“‘Sup, Snow Queen?” Vanjie teases. “Whatcha’ been up to? Stealing? Killing for fun?”

She is met with silence as Frost shoves her to the ground. Frost’s hand unclenches, and Vanjie glimpses blood staining her fingers and smeared across her palm. What’s the bitch been up to?

Vanjie picks herself back up, grinning broadly. “You know, I gave up chips for this. You could at least play along to make it more fun.”

“Would you like me to call you Hephaestus?” Frost inquires, casually dodging Vanjie’s fist.

“Who the hell is Hep-hepatitis?” Confused, Frost’s next hit lands square in her chest and takes her breath away.

“The Greek god of fire and the forge.”

“Alright, you know what, blondie, just go back to being quiet,” she jabbers, finally landing a punch that sends Frost to the ground and should bruise, Vanjie thinks proudly.

Frost leaps to her feet, and there’s a certain grace to the way she moves. Even scraping herself off the floor, she’s almost…elegant, those long limbs flowing like they’re meant to do something else, something beautiful and exquisite. And then that long, graceful arm lobs an ice blast at Vanjie, and her legs are frozen to the floor while she curses and heats her hands to melt it. By the time she’s free, Frost is already out in the street.

“Don’t run away from me, Elsa!” she screeches the lame insult, a product of her frequent hours binging Disney movies in an effort to feel normal again.

She shoots a fireball at Frost, watching in awe as she twirls out of the way like a fucking ballerina, the awe turning to horror as the fire hits a streetlight instead, cleanly separating the heavy metal from its support base. The rest happens in slow motion. The severed light teeters and begins a descent to the sidewalk. There’s a kid standing in its path, because there’s always a kid where they shouldn’t be– Christ, didn’t people watch their kids anymore–frozen on the spot, and Vanjie runs but she knows she won’t make it. She sprints down the sidewalk, the light just feet away, closer, closer– she won’t make it–but it doesn’t matter because–

Vanjie rubs her eyes, checks that this is reality. Frost stands in front of the kid, holding the streetlight in her bare hands like it’s made of paper. She drops it effortlessly on the sidewalk and stares at it, both hands pressed tightly to her head, then vanishes into the night.

Vanjie doesn’t bother to chase after her, knowing she’ll be gone. She goes to check on the girl, who is young, maybe 15, with long black hair.

“She-she saved me,” the kid whispers incredulously.

“Go home, kid,” Vanjie mutters. She wishes she could take her own advice, but there’s more work to be done.

“Frost got away. I’m gonna search the lab before the cops get here,” she informs Silk over ear comm.

“Don’t be too long,” Silk cautions.

She searches the room Frost came out of, but nothing’s disturbed, except for a random mound of ice on the floor. She observes bits of bloody glass and a cork topper mixed in, but she has no idea what they used to be, what secrets they might hold. The cork, though. Maybe a vial? But why smash it on the floor and freeze it? Everything else seems intact, so Frost was either careful about what she did and took something unnoticeable, or she didn’t take anything.

But what about the ice on the floor? Why was her hand bleeding? Why come here for nothing?

“Bank robbery on 36th,” Silk buzzes loudly in her ear. One of these days Vanjie’s gonna rip that thing out and smash it under her boots.

She races to the bank and surrenders to the monotony, lets it become white noise. A punch here, a jab there, a kick here. She doesn’t think, doesn’t banter or taunt. She barely even registers the black-masked criminals as she kicks their asses. Every night the same. Every night stopping bad people, thinking she had done some good, only to go back out the next night and stop more bad people.

She never thought the superhero gig would be so exhausting.

It’s not until she’s home and in the shower that she allows herself to ask the real question. Why did Frost save that kid? It didn’t make sense. Frost hurt people. She destroyed buildings, and stole from people, and she had tried to kill Vanjie dozens of times in the past few months. So why had she saved a random kid?

The water drips down her bruised body, slowly washing Vanjie away and letting Vanessa come back. The grime and despair and misery cling to her stubbornly, lasting longer than the bruises do.

It’s hard to get Vanessa back these days.

She falls onto the couch, too tired to eat her chips, and calls Silk.

“You got any info on that lab? Maybe it’ll tell us why Frost was there.” Vanessa privately decides not to mention the broken glass, the bloody hand, or Frost saving the kid. They feel connected but she just can’t see how, missing however many pieces she needs to put the puzzle together. She wants to keep it to herself for now.

“Memstar Labs. Specializes in memory drugs. Been working on this new one named Memoriax. Supposed to restore memory loss. It’s really new. Like, no one even knows they’re working on it because it’s so new,” Silk rattles off. “But I got my ways of knowing,” she adds proudly.

“Got it. Let me know if you hear anything,” Vanessa signs off and rubs a hand over her face as she sighs.

So the science lab experimented with memory drugs. They had a brand new drug that no one could possibly know about, unless they have the kind of connections that Silk has. That Frost probably has. Could the drug have been the reason for Frost’s visit? Could she have taken something that would go unnoticed, like the drug formula?

Vanessa groans in frustration, shuffling off to her bedroom. New bruises bloom over her petite body and the numbness of sleep is all she has to look forward to. She falls into a deep sleep that is dotted with images of Frost elegantly moving through the darkness, and wakes up inexplicably sad that the dream is gone.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #angst #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #superhero au #powerless #athena2 #tw violence #tw blood #tw mild injury #concrit welcome #submission

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