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urdreamydoodles · 5 months ago

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MCU Characters x Reader (Part.1)

How they react when you are angry with them (Part.1)

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Peter Parker (Tom H.), Stephen Strange & Thor Odinson

I'm back in my MCU era, thanks to Agatha All Along, so expect a lot of MCU headcanons, feel free to request those!

Tony Stark

- When you’re angry with Tony, he’s a little stunned. He’s used to being able to charm his way through things or brush issues off with a joke, but the moment he realizes you’re genuinely upset, he feels the ground shift a little. Tony’s mind races, calculating what he did wrong, and for a second, he considers ignoring the problem—but not with you. You mean too much to him, and he can’t stand the idea of pushing you further away.

- He doesn’t immediately know how to apologize, so he leans into his classic defense mechanism: humor. He’ll try to make you laugh, throwing out quips, hoping you’ll crack a smile. When that doesn’t work, he gets a little awkward, mumbling things like, “This is why I avoid real feelings, you know?” as he fumbles through an apology. He’s not used to admitting fault, but with you, he’s learning to swallow his pride.

- Tony goes all out when he realizes he needs to make it up to you. He’ll throw himself into making amends, maybe even a little too extravagantly. Expect some grand, over-the-top gesture—a private jet to Paris, a limited-edition piece of tech he’s been tinkering on, or a fancy dinner in some exclusive place with an outfit he’s bought just for the occasion. He’s not subtle, and he knows it, but he’ll do anything if it means a smile from you.

- When the big gestures don’t work, he takes a different approach. He shows up at your door, looking strangely vulnerable, with something small and meaningful. Maybe it’s a handwritten letter he’s scribbled out, confessing how much he hates it when things aren’t okay between you two. It’s raw, real, and completely unlike Tony, but he means every word. This time, he wants to show that he’s willing to put the ego aside for you.

- Once you finally let him back in, Tony wraps you in his arms and doesn’t let go. He’ll joke that he’s not letting you get mad at him again, and maybe throw in a flirty quip about “testing his limits,” but there’s something deeper there too. Being loved by you has changed him, and he’s willing to work on himself for the first time in a long time. With you, Tony’s found a softness he didn’t know he had, and he’s not going to risk losing it.

Steve Rogers

- Steve Rogers doesn’t like conflict, especially not with you. When he realizes you’re angry, he immediately wants to address it and resolve it, hoping it won’t escalate. He tries to have a calm, level-headed conversation, but he can see that maybe it’s too soon. Steve’s patient, though; he’ll give you space if you need it, even if it pains him to let go for a while.

- While you’re cooling off, Steve takes time to reflect, replaying the situation in his mind, wondering where he went wrong. He’s his own worst critic and can be hard on himself, especially when it comes to you. He’ll try to see things from your perspective, understanding that sometimes his old-fashioned sense of right and wrong can be rigid. He’s willing to bend if it’s what’s needed to bridge the gap between you.

- When he approaches you again, he’s soft-spoken and earnest, offering a sincere apology. There are no excuses, no justifications—just him, owning up to whatever hurt you. His gaze doesn’t leave yours; he wants you to know he truly means it. And as he speaks, he promises he’ll do better, vowing to always listen to you and consider your feelings.

- To make it up to you, Steve chooses something simple but thoughtful, probably something he knows you love. It could be as quiet as a walk through your favorite park or as gentle as a handwritten note tucked into a book you’re reading. Steve understands that sometimes, it’s the little things that mean the most. He’ll give you the space to talk, letting you vent if you need to, always steady, always attentive.

- Once the air clears, Steve is more affectionate than usual, holding your hand, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, grateful to be back in your good graces. He values trust deeply and doesn’t take your forgiveness for granted. Steve knows relationships take work, and he’s fully committed to making it work with you, one respectful conversation at a time.

Natasha Romanoff

- Natasha doesn’t like it when things are off between you two, but she’s used to people being mad at her. Initially, she tries to shrug it off, acting like she doesn’t care, maybe even trying to ignore it. But you’re different. You’re not just anyone; you’re someone she actually trusts, and seeing you upset with her hits her hard.

- Natasha is far more comfortable dealing with enemies than emotional confrontations, so when she finally comes to you, she does it in a roundabout way. She might casually ask, “Are we good?” as if it’s not a big deal, but the nervous tension in her voice betrays her. She’s not great at apologies, so her attempt is awkward but sincere. It’s clear she’s trying, even if she doesn’t always have the words.

- To make it up to you, Natasha doesn’t go for big gestures but rather something deeply personal. She’ll take you to a place she loves—a quiet spot on a rooftop, a hidden café she discovered, somewhere she can let her guard down. She’s careful, almost shy, as she opens up a little about herself, sharing stories she rarely tells. In her own way, she’s letting you know how much she values you.

- Natasha doesn’t usually do comfort, but she’ll go out of her way to make you feel loved and safe. Maybe she’ll surprise you with breakfast or bring you something she knows you’ve been wanting. She pays attention, after all, even if she doesn’t always show it. Little by little, she’ll find ways to let you know that she’s there, committed to making things right.

- When you finally forgive her, Natasha breathes a sigh of relief, leaning in for a hug that lasts a beat longer than usual. She’s not big on words, but she’ll whisper something soft and sincere, just for you. Natasha’s fiercely protective, and after a falling-out, she’s even more attuned to making sure you feel cared for. She’ll stay close, a steady presence at your side, her quiet way of showing just how much she values you.

Bruce Banner

- When you’re angry with Bruce, he’s instantly anxious, worried he’s done something terribly wrong. Conflict isn’t his strong suit, and he’s painfully aware of his capacity for anger. He’s cautious, almost timid, when he realizes you’re upset, giving you space and time. He doesn’t want to make things worse or risk saying the wrong thing.

- Bruce spends time overthinking the situation, dissecting every detail. He questions himself, often getting caught in a loop of self-blame, wondering if he’s ever really been suited for a relationship. But even though he’s scared of confrontation, he values you too much to leave things unresolved. He wants to show you that he’s willing to work through whatever the issue is.

- When he finally comes to you, Bruce’s apology is soft, heartfelt, and a little self-deprecating. He’ll stumble through his words, not wanting to sound defensive, and there’s an earnestness in his gaze as he tries to convey just how much he wants to make things right. He’s not perfect, but he’s open to listening and doing better.

- To make it up to you, Bruce goes for something intimate and personal. He knows you appreciate small gestures, so he’ll show up with something that reflects his feelings for you—maybe a small book he thinks you’d love, or a little experiment from the lab that made him think of you. He’s shy about it, maybe a little embarrassed, but it’s his way of showing he cares.

- When you finally forgive him, Bruce visibly relaxes, wrapping you in a hug as if he never wants to let go. He’s careful, soft, and almost tentative, savoring the warmth of your embrace. Bruce cherishes the trust you give him and is deeply grateful to have someone willing to weather his insecurities. He might even joke, “You’re way too patient with me,” but the gratitude in his voice is genuine.

Clint Barton

- When Clint realizes you’re angry with him, his first reaction is a mix of regret and a slight laugh. He can’t believe he’s managed to mess things up this badly with you, of all people. He knows he tends to joke around a bit too much, so he tries to laugh it off at first, but when he sees how serious you are, his grin fades. He’ll look a bit awkward, rubbing the back of his neck, knowing he’s got some work to do.

- Clint’s never been one to give big, elaborate apologies. Instead, he’ll pull you aside, speaking quietly and genuinely. He’ll admit that he messed up, explaining that sometimes he forgets to take things seriously or considers others’ feelings the way he should. It’s a simple, heartfelt apology, showing his honest side that not many people get to see.

- Once he’s apologized, Clint is all about making you laugh. He’ll start cracking jokes, doing his best impressions, and even pull some ridiculous faces just to get a reaction out of you. Clint knows humor is his best weapon, and he’s shameless about using it if it means making things right. He’s determined not to let you stay mad at him for long, no matter what it takes.

- When his jokes don’t quite cut it, Clint switches gears and puts effort into something he knows will mean a lot to you. He’s a guy who pays attention to the little things, so he’ll show up with your favorite takeout, a warm blanket, or maybe even a funny book he picked up just for you. He knows that it’s the small gestures that can speak volumes.

- After things settle down, Clint wraps you in a warm, comfortable hug, one arm wrapped around your shoulder, making you feel like everything’s back to normal. He’ll joke about how lucky he is that you put up with him, throwing in a wink, but there’s a hint of seriousness behind his words. Clint doesn’t take his relationships for granted, and he’s grateful you’re in his life, even when he messes up.

Bucky Barnes

- Bucky’s heart sinks when he sees that you’re angry. He’s used to pushing people away, and now that he’s got you, he’s terrified of losing you over a misunderstanding. Bucky’s first instinct is to retreat, his mind already whispering that maybe he doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve you. He’ll avoid confrontation if he can, hoping things might smooth over on their own.

- But when he realizes he needs to talk to you, he’s hesitant, nervous, almost as if he’s bracing himself for rejection. Bucky approaches you carefully, speaking in a low, almost shy voice. He struggles with apologies, but he looks you in the eyes, opening up about how hard he finds it to express his feelings. He’s used to running, and being with you is the first time he’s tried not to.

- Bucky tries to make it up to you in the most low-key, thoughtful way possible. He’s not one for grand gestures, but he’ll do something meaningful and heartfelt, like leaving you a note explaining how much you mean to him or bringing you something that he knows you love. He’s nervous about whether it’ll be enough, hoping you can see the sincerity in his actions.

- When he feels things softening between you, Bucky relaxes just a little, offering his support in any way you need. He’ll stay close, maybe cooking a meal for you or sitting quietly with you, sharing a comfortable silence. He wants you to know that he’s there, without needing to say much, because he’s always believed that actions speak louder than words.

- When you finally forgive him, Bucky is beyond relieved. He’s more open with his affection, drawing you into a tight embrace, his touch lingering as if he’s afraid to let go. He knows he doesn’t have many people he can count on, but he’s grateful that he can count on you. Bucky’s still working on believing he deserves happiness, but having you in his life makes him want to try.

Sam Wilson

- Sam immediately notices when you’re angry, and his first instinct is to find out what’s going on. He’s straightforward and doesn’t like tension hanging in the air, so he’ll ask, “Alright, what did I do?” in his calm, genuine way, hoping you’ll be willing to talk it out. He’s good at reading people, but he wants to hear it from you directly.

- Sam listens intently when you explain what’s bothering you, nodding and giving you his full attention. He’s respectful and thoughtful, making sure you know he understands where you’re coming from. He’s not the type to dodge blame; if he’s at fault, he’ll own up to it right away. There’s no defensiveness, no excuses—just an honest desire to make things right.

- To make it up to you, Sam takes you on a simple, meaningful outing—something where the two of you can connect and have fun. He’s all about shared experiences, so maybe it’s a long walk, a favorite food spot, or even a small adventure he’s planned just for you. He’s careful, attentive, making sure the focus is on you and helping you feel valued.

- When things calm down, Sam offers a mix of humor and reassurance, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and promising to do better. He’ll look you in the eyes and say something like, “I don’t like seeing you mad. Tell me if I mess up again.” He’s genuine and open, showing you he wants to grow from this experience and be a better partner.

- Once everything’s back to normal, Sam goes the extra mile, making sure you’re laughing and relaxed. He’s always there to lift you up, pulling you in for a warm, affectionate hug and giving you his full, unwavering attention. Sam’s presence is solid, reassuring, and he’ll make sure you know just how much he values having you in his life.

Peter Parker (Tom H.)

- Peter’s heart sinks when he realizes you’re angry with him. He’s young, a little clumsy with emotions, and absolutely hates the idea of upsetting you. His mind starts racing, thinking of everything he could have done wrong. He gets a little panicked, maybe even rambling apologies before he knows what’s going on, hoping you’ll give him a chance to explain.

- When you tell him what’s bothering you, Peter listens carefully, nodding along with wide, earnest eyes. He’s genuinely sorry, his voice soft as he stumbles through an apology. He’s never been great at handling relationship tension, but he’ll try his best to make sure you know how much he cares and how sorry he is for letting you down.

- To make it up to you, Peter goes for something heartfelt, maybe even a bit awkward, but completely sincere. He’ll show up at your window with a little homemade gift, something quirky and thoughtful—perhaps a playlist he made just for you or a funny little gadget he put together in the lab. He’s earnest, a little shy about it, hoping you’ll see how much effort he’s putting in.

- Peter spends extra time trying to lift your spirits, using every ounce of his playful personality to make you laugh. He’ll crack jokes, do silly impressions, or even attempt a bad dance routine just to get you smiling again. He knows he’s a bit of a dork, but he doesn’t mind if it means cheering you up. Peter’s all about making you feel comfortable and loved.

- When you finally forgive him, Peter’s face lights up with relief. He’ll pull you into a warm, enthusiastic hug, holding you close and babbling about how he’s “the luckiest person in the world” to have someone like you. He’s young, optimistic, and just incredibly happy that you’re not mad anymore. To Peter, you’re his world, and he’ll always do whatever it takes to make you feel special.

Stephen Strange

- When Stephen realizes you’re angry with him, he’s a bit taken aback. He’s used to being right and doesn’t often see things from others’ perspectives, so it takes him a moment to understand the weight of the situation. His initial reaction might even be a little defensive, but he quickly catches himself, knowing that with you, he has to try harder to listen and understand.

- Stephen struggles with apologies, often trying to explain away his actions or getting caught up in technicalities. He’s intelligent and analytical, but that doesn’t always work when emotions are involved. Eventually, though, he manages to offer a genuine apology, admitting that he’s not always the easiest person to be with and that he respects you enough to take responsibility.

- To make things right, Stephen will probably use a bit of magic to create something special just for you. It might be a small charm to keep you safe, a little illusion to make you smile, or even a glimpse into some place you’ve always wanted to see. It’s his way of saying he cares, using the one skill he knows best to bring you a little joy.

- As he tries to smooth things over, Stephen is careful, more attentive than usual, and visibly trying to understand your emotions. He may not be great at expressing his own feelings, but he’s willing to try if it means keeping you close. He’ll listen to you, nodding thoughtfully, and maybe even opening up a bit about his past mistakes and how much he values you.

- Once you forgive him, Stephen is visibly relieved, though he keeps it subtle. He gives you a small smile and pulls you close, brushing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he wraps his arms around you. He might even joke, “Guess I need to work on my bedside manner,” but there’s genuine affection behind his words. Stephen knows he’s lucky to have you, and he’s determined to keep learning how to love you better.

Thor Odinson

- Thor is visibly surprised when he realizes you’re angry with him. He’s naturally cheerful and doesn’t take most things too seriously, so the idea that he’s done something to upset you takes him off guard. At first, he tries to brush it off with a booming laugh, but when he sees the seriousness in your eyes, his smile fades. He immediately wants to fix things, willing to do whatever it takes to get you to smile again.

- Thor is quick to apologize, his voice earnest as he promises he didn’t mean to hurt you. He’s not one to overthink things, but he’s deeply sincere, and his apologies come straight from the heart. He’ll look you in the eyes and tell you he values you and never meant to cause any harm, his words laced with the kind of honesty that only Thor can deliver.

- To make it up to you, Thor goes all out. He’ll sweep you off on a grand adventure, maybe a spontaneous trip to Asgard (or at least what remains of it), or he’ll bring you somewhere beautiful and awe-inspiring. Thor loves to celebrate life and wants to remind you of all the incredible experiences the two of you can share. His enthusiasm is infectious, and he hopes that a bit of excitement will make things right.

- As you spend time together, Thor is extra affectionate, showering you with praise and hugs. He’s genuinely sorry and makes sure you feel loved and appreciated, maybe even telling you tales of his own mistakes and what he’s learned from them. He might tease himself a bit, but it’s all to make you laugh and remind you of his dedication to you.

- When you finally forgive him, Thor’s smile lights up the room. He laughs, pulling you into a bear hug, lifting you off your feet, and spinning you around. There’s nothing subtle about his relief and joy, and he’s not afraid to show it. Thor values you immensely and will do everything he can to make sure you know how much you mean to him, promising that he’ll try to be a little more mindful in the future.

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tldrthor · 4 months ago

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promises we intend to keep | steve rogers

Summary: The Avenger's spend time with their comatose friend, Cap's sanity slips from him as he spends every night by her bedside. Is blind faith enough?

Part 2 to things we shouldn't have said (prev. classic enemies to lovers stuff) // He sounded like an idiot, but he couldn't care less. // word count: 4.3k

enjoyed? please like/reblog! you can find my masterlist here <3

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“Hi, (y/n).” He settled himself into the chair next to the bed, the familiar antiseptic smell filling his nostrils, the beep, beep, beep of her heart like music to his ears. He had hated it at first, but now, it was evidence that she was still here. There was still hope. “I’ve got a break between meetings so I figured I’d come down and say hello.”

He leaned back, watching her peaceful features as unmoving as they had been for nearly a month now. He frowned at the wires connected to her neck and chest, knowing that if she was awake she would’ve hated that. Part of him wanted to rip them off, but his more rational thinking prevented him from doing that.

Dr. Cho’s words circled round his mind, as they hadn’t stopped doing since she spoke them all those weeks ago. “She’s not out of the woods yet. She died twice on the table, and requires all manners of intervention going forward. We’ll only know the extent of the damage when she wakes up –” The doctor had paused for just a second, trying to soften what was only certain to be a killing blow. “–If she wakes up.”

Every time he remembered those words, his knees felt as weak as Bambi on ice. The nausea he used to feel every time he entered this room had faded, and the shell-shock had worn. She still occupied every moment of his thoughts, awake or unconscious. Not that he had been doing a lot of sleeping.

He opened the book at the page he had last left off at, when Sam had come downstairs and dragged the Captain to bed himself last night. “Just to recap,” He spoke to her regardless of her response to him. “Laurie confessed to Jo, but she rejected him. Beth is still sick and boy, that’s rough.”

He cleared his throat and began reading aloud.

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“(Y/l/n), I’ve had enough now.” Natasha charged through the doors to where (y/n) lay. She threw herself down in the chair, leaning her head on her asleep friend’s shoulder, trying to gain what little emotional support she could from her usual source of sanity amongst the chaos of the compound. “The boys are driving me crazy. I think you’ve made your point; Cap is sorry – he’s very, very sorry, borderline depressed – so you can come back.”

She smiled a charming, pleading smile. But no one was there to see it. She dropped the smile after a few seconds.

“(Y/n), it’s hard without you here. No one’s the same, and Steve won’t accept any missions so we can’t even escape. Sam and Bucky are about to tear each other apart, and Cap just wallows in the gym whenever he’s not here with you.”

More silence.

“Anyways, Cap said that he wants someone here as much as possible. And we haven’t hung out in a while, so if you don’t mind we’re going to watch the new season of Love Island together.” She kicked off her shoes, stretching her legs over the hospital bed and getting comfortable.

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The next visitor didn’t say anything as he walked through the doors, hovering by the foot of the bed. He uncomfortably brought his hands in and out of his pockets, shifting from one leg to the other.

He eventually moved beside the bed, reaching a hand out to her forehead, to get rid of a hair that had found itself there. He stood there, staring, in silence for a while longer. He swallowed, took a breath, and spoke out loud;

“Kid, I don’t know if you can hear me.” He paused. “You probably can’t.”

He paced around the room, continuing; “I just want you to know, I got your little letter. Really, more of a stunt, very childish – anyway. I want you to know that if that’s your wish, I’ll help you out in setting up. But I also need you to know that you’re going to have to tell me that to my face. So you’ll have to wake up.”

“Also, I’m your boss and your sick pay is running out, so chop chop.” He joked to himself. He basked in the silence for another second.

“It’s not the same without you, (y/l/n). Hope to talk soon.”

“Mr. Stark, Mrs Potts is requesting your presence in the kitchen.” FRIDAY chimed in right on time. He muttered a be right up, taking one last look at his young teammate, and walked out the doors.

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A month to the day since she was shot, Steve couldn’t sleep. Before the whole debacle, he would’ve just gone to the gym and fought it out of his system. But now, he couldn’t bear being anywhere but in the medical bay. He couldn’t even count the amount of times he had woken up in that chair, neck in excruciating pain, the book on the floor. Or, the amount of times Bucky or Sam or Natasha had come downstairs and marched him back to bed.

He couldn’t help it. The thought of her waking up alone, not knowing where she is, was his greatest concern – scratch that, his greatest fear was her not waking up at all.

He didn’t take the time to change into proper clothes, instead deciding to head down in his pyjamas – ones that she had complimented him on, once upon a time. Red flannel pants and a matching henley – she had described it as ‘lumberjack chic’ and then explained that that was a good thing. He hadn’t realised back then, but Steve now thinks she might have been flirting. He cursed how much of an idiot he was before this disaster.

He wished desperately he could turn back time to then. Before he decided the only way not to love her, was to hate her.

“It’s me, again.” He spoke, taking his familiar spot on the chair next to the bed. He yawned, getting himself more comfortable, flicking the blanket they had all collectively decided was required over his legs. “Now, where were we?” He picked up the book again, reciting words from the pages until it fell from his hand, loud snores from his mouth filling the room.

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When he awoke again, he was in the same familiar pain he always had when he spent too much time in the chair. This time he had fallen forward, his head resting on the bed and… his hand entwined in hers.

He sighed, giving himself the luxury of just a second feeling what he would never have. Her hands were soft, and smooth. Not like his own. They were warm, and comfortable, and something about her fingers holding onto his just felt right.

It wouldn’t be respectful to linger for longer than that, not without her knowing, but as he tried to pull his hand away –

Was that a twitch?

He stared at her hand, now more awake and alert than he had been all month. There was no way, he was definitely just going delirious through stress, or lack of sleep, or maybe his age had just caught up with him because –

A second twitch.

“Oh my god.” He glared daggers into her hand, as if that would do something. Maybe he really was losing his marbles. This was just wishful thinking. His heart feeling like it was about to thump, thump, thump right out of his chest. Do it again. Please, do it again.

When it happened for a third time, and he saw it with his own eyes, he could only make a noise that could really only be described as a squeal. On his feet in an instant, his hand finding its way to her cheek, cupping her face.

There was no other sign of life. He stared and stared and stared. “Wake up, (y/n). Wake up, I’m here.” He pleaded. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he considered them; “If you wanted to prove a point, consider it proven. You’re not a liability, you’ve never, ever been a liability.”

“Just wake up. I am so, so sorry for everything.” His thumb stroked her cheek, his eyes staring at her face looking for anything that might indicate she was coming back to him. “Just wake up.”

Nothing.

He sat back down, defeated. He had gotten his hopes up, and it all came crashing back down. He placed his hand firmly back on hers as he leant his head on the bed, wet patches forming on the sheets as saltwater leaked from his eyes.

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“Cap, we’re not saying we don’t believe you —” Sam was interrupted.

Steve turned away from his friends, growing more and more frustrated with every sentence uttered. They didn’t believe him. She had moved. She was coming back, but no one would listen.

“You don’t believe me. I promise her hand twitched.” His jaw tensed, his stare as far away from his friends as he could get.

“Stevie, we believe that you felt something, but you have to admit, bud, you’ve been hardly sleeping and pushing yourself too far. Nothing was picked up on monitors, how would that be?” Bucky reasoned, sitting in the same chair where Steve had been so convinced she was waking up, just hours ago.

He had called them to the room as early as he deemed was responsible that day, and they had come running. Only to find their friend still asleep, and the captain with red eyes and bags under them that only seemed to get worse and worse the more they looked.

Sam sighed, hand reaching up to rub his temple. He had had a pretty consistent headache himself for a good couple of weeks. “Steve, I completely understand. We all want her back, but you can’t keep torturing yourself over this. She’ll wake up, just give her time.”

“Sam, it’s been a month – the doctor said if she was going to wake up it would take around a week.” Steve pleaded, the tears welling in his eyes again. He didn’t care anymore about hiding it from them. They already thought he was crazy anyway.

Sam placed a hand on his back as he wiped the water with the back of his hand.

“We’ll wait as long as it takes, but it has to be we. You can’t be here all the time, Steve. It’s no good if she wakes up and you’ve killed yourself from lack of sleep.”

“I don’t want to miss the moment she comes back.” He whispered.

Sam and Bucky made eye contact, pitying looks cast between them.

Bucky decided to speak, seeing Sam’s heartbreak at trying to reason with their normally solid friend. “Steve, you have to go to bed – don’t argue – but I’ll stay with her. I promise that if anything happens, I will let you know in an instant.”

Steve’s lips drew into a tight line, his eyebrows furrowed. Bucky continued; “Come on, just give me a couple hours, Stevie. I’ll chat to her, we’ll listen to music or something. I promise I’ll take care of her.”

“Come on.” Sam put his arm round Steve, gentle but firmly leading him away. He stole one last glance, as Bucky pulled out his phone to put on some music.

When the boys were finally away, Bucky turned to her. “You’re causing quite a ruckus, tiger. You always liked your sleep, but this is a bit much.” He laughed, leaning back in the chair. “There’s not much to say, kid – I know that the others have been talking your ear off. We need you back.”

He scrolled on his phone a little. Looking for the playlist she had shared with him – one to blend their music tastes. It was originally just for a mission they had to go on together, but turned into one of his favourite ways to bond with her. Music. He laughed again at the name: ‘Golden Oldie and the Wunderkind’ He remembered the day she had made up the name, they hadn’t stopped laughing for hours.

He clicked shuffle, smiling as I and Love and You by the Avett Brothers came over the speakers. “I know you like this song because it reminds you of Stevie.” He teased, but let it play out. He didn’t quite let himself sing, but he did mouth the words to his favourite verse;

That woman, she’s got eyes that shine, Like a pair of stolen, polished dimes. She asked to dance, I said ‘it’s fine– I’ll see you in the morning time’.

What he didn’t tell her, didn’t dare to say out loud, was that ever since he had mentioned to Steve that she liked the song, Steve had listened to it at least once a day. Particularly after they had their usual fights.

These idiots have a lot to figure out when she wakes up. He thought to himself.

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Bucky got a few hours with her, listening to their playlist, occasionally chatting about the song choices. He briefly tried to read the book on the side, but when he saw it was Little Women, he put it right back down again.

“Sorry, tiger. Not my vibe.” He chuckled.

The doors opened slowly, revealing a slightly-less-haggard Captain America. He had put actual clothes on, looked like he had slept at least a little bit and had even showered. Bucky gave a nod of approval, folding his arms and leaning back in the chair again.

“You feeling better?” Bucky asked his friend, who simply nodded in response.

Buck stood, knowing that Steve wanted to be alone with her right now. To not have the pitying looks thrown at him that Bucky couldn’t help but cast. He understood, he had been there.

“See ya, punk.” He gave a hearty smile before leaving.

Steve took his rightful seat, sighing before starting the same routine they had done over, and over, and over again. He was growing so sick of this chair, and the bed, and the beeping from the machines that didn’t seem to be helping at all.

He got through around half a chapter of Little Women, until he realised that Beth was going to die. He didn’t know how he hadn’t remembered, he had heard his mother reading this book all the way back in ‘35. He closed the book, finding death far too triggering, given the current situation.

Just closing the book wasn’t enough, it was like it burned him to hold it. He threw it across the room in a moment of fury. Frustration swept his whole body as he spiralled, down and down and down. He was ashamed of how out of control he had become. He had always been so rational, so measured. He was always the one people came to when they needed grounding – yet he didn’t know how to ground himself.

He rested his head on her arm, his sweaty palms holding her hand with a ferocity hitherto unseen from him. Like his damn life depended on it.

Maybe it did.

“Come on, (y/n),” He pleaded with the air. With God. With her. “I know you’re mad at me, just wake up and we’ll have another shouting match. Just like before.” A brutally defeated tone weighed down his voice, rough and gravelly from the effort of his bargain. He enclosed her hand in both of his own, leaning his head against them.

A cough.

He froze for a second, hiding behind her hand in his. The coughs continued, dry and painful sounding. Was there someone else in the room?

He took a moment to steel himself, peeling himself away from her hand, and staring at her, mouth agape like a fish out of water. “Oh my god.”

“Water.” She croaked.

He jumped up, the chair going flying backwards. He didn’t notice. With shaking hands, he poured the water from the jug on the bedside table into one of the plastic cups. He held it up to her dry, cracked lips, watching as she drank the whole cup.

“Be careful.” He spoke, instincts kicking in. “You’re on fluids, don’t overload your kidneys.”

She finished, her head laying straight back down on the pillow. He could see in her very brief movements that she was weak. He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Her eyes were barely open as she turned her head in his direction.

“Captain?” Her voice was rough as sandpaper, like she was straining just to get her singular words out. He just stared, incredulously.

“I’m here, sweetheart.” The pet name rolled off his tongue like he had always said it, and he didn’t even notice. “Oh, my god. You’re awake. I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m here.”

He had practiced over and over again, what he was going to say to her when she woke up. Thought about it for entire nights when he couldn’t get to sleep. His plans had been poetic and perfect – they were not ‘oh my god you’re awake.’ He sounded like an idiot, but he couldn’t care less.

Her eyes opened, slowly, and she looked around the room. “What happened?” The words were still a struggle to get out and he could tell. He wanted to tell her to rest, to save her voice for later, to recuperate. But he hadn’t heard that sound in so long, that he let himself be selfish – just one more time.

His own mouth when dry at her amnesia. She knew who he was, which was good. But not knowing how she ended up here was a bad sign.

“What do you remember?” She was growing restless at lying down, and she was in so much pain. It felt like her whole body was made of stone, but she used all of the strength she had in her to try to sit up.

She was met by gentle hands, guiding her up and placing pillows behind her to support her. Hands that belonged to her once arch-nemesis, who looked at her now like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

She was so confused.

“I remember arguing in the forest.” Her eyes were wide with what Steve could only decipher as panic. “I don’t remember anything else… Why am I here?” The scared tone in her voice broke Steve’s heart all over again, but it could not take over the elation he felt at the fact that she was there.

He took a deep breath, briefly considering what he should tell her, considering all the events of the last month, in particular, that day. One of the worst days of his life.

“You were shot through the chest.” He began. “It knocked you out instantly, we barely got you here alive.” He ran his thumb softly over the back of her hand, unable to make eye contact. “You- you’ve been asleep for a month.”

He decided not to tell her of the fact she had died on the operating table. That could wait.

“A month?!” She shouted, resulting in another coughing fit. He helped her drink some more water, making soothing noises as she did so. It all felt so surreal. Every minute of every day since that moment, he had wished for this. And now it was happening. She was awake, and talking.

Her voice started to clear; “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“No. Please, don’t worry about me. You saved me from being shot right before you went down – it was my fault you got hurt.”

“I don’t think that’s right.” She contorted her face into a puzzled expression, looking down at his hand, clasping hers. She said it as a mix between a statement and a question – “We’re holding hands?”

“Yes, um. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up and your hand twitched a couple of days ago so that’s why – sorry, I’ll stop-”

As he tried to untangle their hands, she closed her fist and prevented him from doing so. He watched her chest rise and fall quickly, her eyes wide.

“Please, don’t.” Her words were like a child’s as her nostrils flared. She was uncertain. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen her uncertain before, not even a flash of hesitance had danced across her features as far back as he could remember. “It feels nice.”

Maybe, he just wasn’t paying enough attention.

“Then I’ll keep holding your hand until you ask me to stop.” He promised. A gentle, sincere smile took over his features, which she tried her best to replicate. He observed her face, drinking in the colour in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes.

It was a stark contrast to how they had last left off – the image replaying over and over again in his mind of her clinging to life, blood leaking from her mouth, her nose, her chest. The inky, sticky red coating his suit and his hands and his shoes. So much blood, endless. Sometimes he still felt the slick heat of it all over him. He wasn’t sure that he would ever be able to scrub that feeling from his memory.

“Where are the others? Are they okay?” (Y/n) asked, looking around the room at the various bunches of flowers and cards littered upon every surface. Steve had completely forgotten the others existed in his complete shock at her return.

He winced, knowing he should have called for them immediately. “They’ll be so happy to see you.” He spoke directly to her, and then to the ceiling; “FRIDAY, let everyone know that (y/n) is awake.”

“Yes, Captain.” The irish lilt came from above.

It was mere seconds before the doors came barrelling open, the entire team funnelling into the relatively small room, crowding around the bed and exclaiming various different versions of ‘Oh my god’, ‘You’re awake’, ‘Holy shit’. The room was absolute chaos with an unmusical cacophony.

This was allowed to go on for a few minutes, before the on-call doctor, someone (y/n) had never seen before, rounded the corner. “Okay, okay!” He shouted, “This is too much for the patient, I want everyone out – you can come in smaller groups.”

Everyone grumbled but did as they were told, each taking their chance to say ‘call if you need anything’, ‘see you later’ or ‘we’ll come back with sweets’. Bucky ruffled her hair and Natasha pressed a kiss to her cheek, muttering about how a certain Captain would be looking after her. She didn’t really understand what it meant, but a blush spread to her cheeks anyway.

As the last of them filed out, Steve turned to her and asked; “Do you want me to stay?” A certain vulnerability sewn into his question.

“Yes.” She answered far too quickly. “Please, Captain. If that’s okay.” Her voice seemed to get smaller and smaller as she spoke. “I don’t want to be alone.” Her grip on his hand tightened, both a demand and a question contained within it.

How on Earth could he say no to her? Her wide, gorgeous eyes searched his face for an answer, which he gave by settling further into the chair, pulling it even closer to the bed, if that was even possible.

“Like I said, as long as you want. I’m here, you’re not alone.”

They sat in silence for a while, the Captain not taking his eyes away from her face.

“(Y/n).” He had to tell her, now or never. He wouldn’t risk something like this again, things going unsaid. “I hope you know how sorry I am for what I said, all those weeks ago. It’s not an excuse, but I realised all this time I’ve not hated you, I’ve …”

She looked at him, her lips parted. Her messy hair splayed in a way where the fluorescent lights caught it, making it look like a sort of pseudo-halo. He knew it, right there and then. This was it.

“I’ve loved you. Since the moment we met.”

A shocked expression on her face moved slowly, her open mouth contorting into a soft, loving smile. She squeezed his hand, bringing her other arm over to hold it as well. Just more contact. That was all she needed.

“Steve, I feel the same.” She was still playing with his actual name, not ‘Captain’ or ‘Rogers’ or a sarcastic ‘Cap’. He couldn’t believe how it sounded coming from her – like it was a new name altogether. Like a song he was discovering for the first time.

He couldn’t help it now, he beamed. “You do?”

She nodded, licking her lips. They were so cracked, and dry. But she didn’t care.

“I– I can’t lean over to you, but… I would love to kiss you right now.”

He didn’t waste any time. Up and out of his seat in an instant, crossing what little distance was left between them. His hands reached her cheeks first, cupping them ever so softly. They breathed together, just for a second, his eyes flicking to hers almost to make sure she knew what she was doing.

And then his lips were on hers. The kiss wasn’t like she had imagined – it wasn’t dramatic, wasn’t angry, wasn’t sudden. It was calculated and gentle and passionate. It was everything she could ever have hoped for.

They pulled apart, Steve knowing that she wasn’t strong enough to hold her breath to kiss her as long as he wanted to. His hand stroked her cheek, his eyes staring into hers. He rested his forehead against hers for a second, before moving up and pressing a kiss to it.

The look in his eyes was one of love, happiness and admiration.

“I think I’ve wanted to do that since we met.” He admitted, breathless from excitement. They smiled at each other wordlessly, growing used to the looks between not being ones of glaring and daggers, but of kindness, and warmth.

The only sound was the steady beep, beep, beep of her heart rate – a sound he had definitely decided he loved. They stayed like that for hours, before she started to fall back asleep – to rest, this time.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” She asked, as she slipped back into slumber.

“I promise.” And nothing on Earth could stop him from keeping it.

================================================

TAGS -- I've tagged everyone who requested a part two! You guys really keep my motivation up so I hope it's done you justice <3. This will be the last part for now, but I'm thinking of setting future domestic fics in this universe!

@haven-in-writing @marvelouskatie @veryaverageapple @ironwinnerwonderland @ohdrey89 @waqtzayaontmblr @shygamergirl01 @starkenobi @ynstark

p.s. please please listen to 'I and Love and You' by the Avett Brothers if you haven't before -- it's so Steve and is such a lovely song.

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mintyys-blog · 3 months ago

Text

avengers x nurse! reader: Nurse Knows Best

WARNINGS: none

The Avengers were like a group of overgrown kids who happened to have superpowers, and as their designated nurse, it was your job to keep them in one piece—not that they ever made it easy for you.

You’d worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. long enough to know that most agents had a tendency to push themselves too hard, but the Avengers? They were on a whole other level. It didn’t matter if they had a broken rib, a twisted ankle, or a mild concussion; they’d brush it off like it was nothing. And every time, you were there to scold them.

The med bay was bustling after a mission gone sideways. You stood with your hands on your hips, surveying the chaos as various members of the team wandered in, clearly worse for wear.

“Okay,” you said loudly, clapping your hands to get their attention. “Everyone who’s injured, sit down and let me take a look at you. No exceptions.”

Tony Stark was the first to protest, of course. “I’m fine, Nurse Killjoy. It’s just a scratch.”

“A scratch?” You raised an eyebrow, pointing at the deep gash on his arm that was still bleeding. “Sit. Now.”

Tony rolled his eyes but obeyed, muttering under his breath about bossy nurses.

Next up was Clint, who was cradling his wrist. “I don’t need—”

“Don’t even start, Barton. Sit.”

He sighed dramatically but plopped down in the nearest chair.

Steve Rogers walked in next, limping slightly but trying to hide it. You immediately spotted the blood seeping through his suit at his side.

“Captain Rogers,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said automatically, his voice calm and reassuring.

“Uh-huh. And that’s why you’re leaking blood all over my floor.”

Steve looked down, as if noticing the injury for the first time. “It’s not that bad.”

“Sit down before I make you,” you said firmly, pointing to an empty bed.

His lips twitched like he wanted to argue, but he gave in, sitting with a sheepish smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

Natasha was the only one who didn’t fight you. She sat quietly on the edge of a cot, holding a cold pack to her shoulder.

“Thank you for not arguing,” you said as you passed by.

She smirked. “Why would I? You’re the only one here who scares Steve.”

“Nat!” Steve protested from his bed.

Natasha just laughed, winking at you.

Bruce Banner was next, looking drained but otherwise uninjured. You handed him a bottle of water and told him to sit and rest, which he did without complaint.

“Where’s Thor?” you asked.

Bruce sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Last I saw, he was outside arguing with some agents about carrying Mjölnir into the med bay.”

You groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Of course he is.”

As if on cue, Thor burst through the doors, looking as proud as ever despite the torn sleeve of his armor revealing a nasty gash on his bicep. Mjölnir dangled from his hand as if it were a paperweight.

“Lady Y/N!” Thor greeted you with his usual booming enthusiasm. “Fear not, for I am unscathed!”

You raised an eyebrow, gesturing to his arm. “And what’s that?”

Thor glanced at the wound as if noticing it for the first time. “A mere trifle! This is nothing for the God of Thunder.”

“Thor, sit down before you bleed all over my med bay,” you said, pointing to an open chair.

“But—”

“Now.”

Thor blinked, clearly unused to being bossed around, but when Natasha smirked at him from her cot, he sighed dramatically and sat down. “Very well, Lady Y/N. I shall allow you to tend to this insignificant injury.”

By the time everyone was settled and you’d cleaned, stitched, or bandaged them up, you were exhausted. But that didn’t stop you from giving them your usual lecture.

“You all need to start taking better care of yourselves,” you said, crossing your arms as you stood in the middle of the room. “You’re not invincible, no matter how much you act like it.”

“Technically, I kind of am,” Tony said, waving his hand. “You know, with the suit and all.”

You shot him a glare. “Even you, Stark. You have to rest and recover like everyone else.”

“I do rest,” Tony said defensively.

“Falling asleep at your desk doesn’t count.”

Natasha chuckled quietly while Steve looked at you with an apologetic smile. “You’re right,” he said, surprising everyone by agreeing. “We’ll do better.”

“Speak for yourself,” Clint muttered, earning a sharp look from you.

“You will do better,” you said, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Once the med bay had cleared out and everyone was patched up, Steve lingered behind, watching as you cleaned up your supplies.

“You’re good at what you do,” he said, his voice warm.

You glanced at him, softening slightly. “Thanks. Someone has to keep you all alive.”

He chuckled, leaning against the counter. “We don’t make it easy, do we?”

“No, you don’t,” you said with a smile. “But I guess I can’t blame you. You’re trying to save the world, after all.”

Steve tilted his head, studying you. “Still, we owe you a lot. I don’t think we say that enough.”

Your cheeks warmed at his sincerity. “You just did, so… thank you.”

He gave you a small nod before turning to leave, but not before adding, “Don’t work too hard, Nurse Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Right back at you, Captain.”

A few days later, they were off on another mission. When they returned, battered but victorious, you were there, hands on your hips and ready to scold them all over again.

But this time, as they filed into the med bay, Steve caught your eye and gave you a sheepish smile.

“We tried to take it easy,” he said.

You sighed, shaking your head with a small laugh. “Sure you did.”

And despite their stubbornness, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for being the one to keep this chaotic, mismatched family in one piece.

The Avengers were many things—heroes, legends, earth’s mightiest—but they were also, without a doubt, the biggest pains in your life. While you loved them (in a professional sense, you often reminded yourself), there were days when they seemed hell-bent on driving you to the brink of insanity.

It started innocently enough. You’d handed Clint an ice pack for his sprained wrist, warning him to use it and not to get into any trouble while waiting for you to finish with Tony.

Apparently, “trouble” was Clint’s middle name.

By the time you turned around, he was using the ice pack as a projectile, aiming it at Thor’s head.

“Barton!” you shouted, but it was too late.

Thor caught the ice pack midair and grinned like a child who’d just been handed a toy. “A fine game, indeed!”

Before you knew it, Thor had launched it back at Clint, narrowly missing your head in the process.

“Guys, stop—”

Steve walked in at the worst possible moment, only to get hit square in the chest by the ice pack. He froze, blinking in confusion, before turning his disapproving gaze on Clint.

“It wasn’t me!” Clint said, pointing at Thor.

“I’m ending this now!” you barked, snatching the ice pack off the floor and holding it like a grenade.

Everyone froze, the room dead silent.

“Good,” you said, your tone clipped. “Now, sit down, or I swear I’ll superglue all of you to the med bay chairs.”

Tony Stark’s caffeine addiction was well-documented. He was rarely seen without a coffee cup in hand, and he had a bad habit of wandering into your office to steal your coffee whenever his ran out.

You’d warned him repeatedly. But today was the day you finally snapped.

“Tony, I swear to everything holy, if you take my coffee one more time—”

“I’m not taking it,” Tony interrupted, already mid-sip.

You glared at him, debating whether it was worth the potential HR complaint to tackle him. “That’s literally my mug, Stark.”

“Is it, though?” he quipped, holding it up to inspect the “World’s Okayest Nurse” lettering you’d bought as a joke.

“Yes, it is!”

Natasha strolled in, took one look at your murderous expression, and immediately turned on her heel. “Nope. Not my problem.”

Later that day, you found a brand-new espresso machine in your office with a note that read, “Bribes work, right? - T”

You should’ve known better than to challenge Thor, but you were running on two hours of sleep, and logic had abandoned you.

“Thor, please stop leaving Mjölnir on the exam tables,” you said for the third time that day. “I can’t move it, and I’m not calling you every five minutes to come and get it.”

“It is perfectly safe where it lies,” Thor said proudly, arms crossed.

“It’s not safe for me,” you shot back. “I’m not worthy, remember?”

Thor grinned. “Perhaps you underestimate yourself, Lady Y/N. You should try lifting it.”

Your eye twitched. “Thor, I don’t have time for this.”

He ignored you, stepping back and gesturing dramatically. “Go on. Prove yourself worthy.”

With a deep sigh, you grabbed the handle and pulled with all your might. Nothing happened, of course.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, grabbing a clipboard and swatting his arm with it.

Thor just laughed, retrieving Mjölnir like it weighed nothing and promising, “I shall endeavor to do better.”

He didn’t.

Bucky had a habit of sneaking up on people, but today, he outdid himself.

You were focused on updating patient files when a voice spoke from directly behind you:

“Whatcha doing?”

You screamed loud enough to send papers flying everywhere.

“BUCKY!”

“Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t sound remotely sorry. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Like hell you didn’t!” you snapped, clutching your chest. “Do you even know how jumpy I am?”

“Natasha bet me ten bucks I couldn’t make you scream,” he admitted with a shrug.

From the hallway, Natasha’s voice called out, “Worth every penny!”

The final straw came when you found Steve Rogers—America’s golden boy—eating chocolate pudding out of a biohazard container in the lab.

“Steve. What are you doing?” you asked, your voice unnervingly calm.

He froze, spoon halfway to his mouth. “Uh… eating pudding?”

“In a biohazard container?”

Steve frowned, staring at the container like it had betrayed him. “It was in the fridge. I thought it was clean.”

You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Steve, that’s for medical samples. It literally says ‘Biohazard’ on the side.”

He looked so horrified and embarrassed that you almost felt bad for yelling at him. Almost.

“I… should probably stop eating this,” he said quietly, setting the container down.

“Ya think?” you muttered.

By the end of the week, you were exhausted. You collapsed into your chair in the break room, head in your hands, wondering how you were still sane.

Natasha walked in, holding a cup of coffee. She placed it in front of you without a word.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sipping it gratefully.

“Don’t let them get to you,” she said with a smirk. “They’re idiots, but they’re our idiots.”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “That’s the only reason I haven’t quit yet.”

From the hallway, you heard Tony shout, “Who used my arc reactor as a paperweight?”

You groaned, already bracing yourself for the next round of chaos.

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cece693 · 2 months ago

Text

He's Cute

pairing: bucky barnes x male reader tags: you're Loki's brother, but actually nice and come in peace, bucky finds you adorable, humor, asking out a prince from another planet is hard, just ask bucky, part 2 can be done

Tony tapped his fingers on the conference table, wearing his best ‘well, here we go again’ scowl. In front of him, the Avengers were assembled, all shooting wary glances at Thor. “So,” Tony drawled, making sure to emphasize his skepticism, “we’re hosting another Asgardian prince. Is your father just collecting them at this point?”

Thor, doing his best not to look offended, cleared his throat. “I know you hold distrust after what Loki did, but (Y/N) is our younger brother. He’s quite the opposite from Loki.”

Clint quirked a brow, exchanging a glance with Sam. “‘Opposite’ how? Less shape-shifting and more interpretive dance, or…?”

Sam snorted. “I’d pay to see that, actually.”

Thor, for his part, stood straight-backed, looking earnest—and maybe just a little bit offended. “I assure you, (Y/N) is not here to conquer anything,” he reiterated. “My brother is gentle. He's nothing like our brother Loki."

Tony drummed his fingers on the table one more time. “Yeah, we’ll see. Might I suggest we have a ‘No Asgardian Shenanigans’ sign at the front door? We can hang it right under the ‘No Solicitors’ sign.”

“That might be a tad welcoming, don’t you think?” Clint drawled, lips curling in a wry grin.

Sam chuckled. “No illusions allowed, no staff-wielding illusions, no illusions about illusions.”

Bucky glanced around. They were all bantering, but he could sense the undercurrent of nervous energy. Finally, Steve caught his eye and nodded, inviting him to speak up if he wanted. But Bucky just gave a small shrug—he didn’t really have an opinion yet, beyond thinking that maybe it would be nice to have another level-headed god around. He’d heard Loki was a piece of work, but Thor—despite his bombast—had proven a decent ally.

“Well, guess we’ll know soon enough,” Nat said, pulling everyone’s attention back to her. She tapped her phone, checking the time. “Thor? When’s your supposed to show up?”

Thor’s chest swelled with pride, as though merely announcing your name was akin to proclaiming victory over the Nine Realms. “He will arrive today—shortly, in fact. Heimdall has secured him safe passage. I ask for your patience, my friends. He is not…accustomed to Earth.”

“Oh, this ought to be fun,” Tony said, pushing back from the table. “Alright. Everyone, let’s roll out the welcome mat. And by ‘welcome mat,’ I obviously mean ‘a healthy dose of skepticism laced with potential backup plans A through Z.’ Clint, let’s find a vantage point—”

“Tony,” Steve interrupted, sounding exasperated. “He’s Thor’s brother, not a Hydra spy.”

Tony shrugged. “Better safe than sorry. Or have we collectively forgotten the Chitauri fiasco?”

Thor let out a deep, put-upon sigh, and Bucky caught the flicker of guilt in the god’s eyes. Clearly, Thor was sensitive about all that had happened with Loki. Which in turn made Bucky feel a little guilty for automatically being wary.

About an hour later, the Avengers had dispersed, though most lingered in the main atrium of the Compound. Bucky hung back near a wall, arms folded, scanning his surroundings with a soldier’s vigilance. He had no idea what to expect. A second Loki? Another six-foot-something, muscle-bound, hammer-wielding Asgardian?

The air crackled with energy, and suddenly, a swirl of rainbow light appeared at the center of the room—a mini Bifrost. Out of it stepped you.

Your entrance was about as dramatic as one could expect from a swirling cosmic rainbow, but you looked anything but menacing. Clad in simple Asgardian attire (far less extravagant than Thor’s usual gear), you blinked, adjusting to the Earthly surroundings and then you bowed—actually bowed—deeply and respectfully.

“Good day,” you greeted softly, your voice gentler than any of them expected. “I am (Y/N) of Asgard. It's an honor to meet the team that has accepted my brother Thor with open arms. I know you might be wary of me with all that has transpired with Loki, but know that I deeply apologize for any problems he...” You paused, searching for a polite way to phrase it, eventually settling with, “…might have caused.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “‘Might have caused?’ Yeah, that’s one way to put an alien invasion.” He exchanged a look with Clint, who shrugged.

“(Y/N) is different,” Thor explained, laying a large hand on your shoulder with a brotherly sort of pride. “He will not attempt subterfuge or illusions.”

Bucky, observing quietly from his corner, noticed how you half-cringed at the mention of illusions, as if even the word brought you guilt by association. You glanced around at the assembled heroes: Tony with his pointed skepticism, Nat’s arms folded in careful assessment, Steve’s polite-but-guarded kindness. Even Sam gave you a sidelong look that said he wasn’t entirely sure he believed in second Asgardian princes yet. Only Thor, unwavering in his faith, and Bruce, gently curious, seemed at ease.

Clearing your throat, you continued, “I truly want to learn of your customs and help in any way I can.” Your voice quieted further. “I understand if my presence here makes you uncomfortable. You have already faced so much.”

Natasha eyed you, the corners of her mouth lifting in the faintest of smiles. “Well, you’re certainly more polite than your brothers,” she said, glancing at Thor pointedly.

“That’s not difficult,” Clint muttered, earning a huff from Thor.

Bucky only half-listened to the exchange; he was more focused on the shy curve of your posture—how you carried yourself with a subtle humility that was so unlike Thor’s boisterous confidence or Loki’s cunning. He realized then he was staring, so he forced himself to look away, crossing his arms over his chest to maintain some semblance of aloofness.

Steve, ever the one to break awkward silences, stepped forward to shake your hand. “We appreciate your honesty, (Y/N). I’m Steve Rogers. I promise no one here means you harm,” he said in a reassuring tone.

You took his hand carefully, as if unaccustomed to the formality. “Nice to meet you, Captain Rogers.” A flicker of surprise crossed your face as you felt the firmness of his handshake. “Your grip could rival Thor’s,” you murmured, almost impressed. Thor puffed up, beaming that you’d complimented one of his comrades.

Sam spoke up next, his voice colored with curiosity. “So, no illusions, no plans of world domination…I’m guessing you’re the ‘normal’ one in the family?”

You seemed flustered, but your lips quirked in an embarrassed smile. “I—I wouldn’t quite say that. But I have always strived for peace.”

Tony waved a hand. “Alright, Peace Prince, welcome aboard. We’ll see how it goes. Just don’t conjure up any giant space whales or open any more cosmic portals in the middle of Manhattan, deal?”

Thor looked positively mortified that Tony would even imply such a thing, but you only nodded politely. “Yes, sir. No space whales. I can assure you of that.”

At the “sir,” Tony’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I like you. Please continue to address me as ‘sir’ in front of the others.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

Thor cleared his throat, trying to steer the conversation back to calmer waters. “(Y/N) will be staying with us for a time—learning Earth’s ways. Please, treat him as you would me.”

“So we haze him with endless pop culture references and toss him in the deep end?” Sam joked.

Bucky saw you swallow hard, and something about your shy, uncertain expression tugged at his chest. Without meaning to, he spoke up for the first time in the meeting. “I’ll help,” he said bluntly.

Everyone turned to look at him, surprise etched on their faces—especially Steve, who arched an eyebrow as if to say, Didn’t know you were volunteering, pal. You brightened, relief shining in your eyes. “That is very kind of you. Thank you, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Just…Bucky,” he mumbled, cheeks warming the tiniest bit.

Natasha’s keen eyes flickered between the two of you, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Great,” she said lightly. “Now that we’re all introduced, who wants lunch?”

Over the next few days, you integrated yourself into Avengers life with unexpected ease. You asked Tony endless questions about Earth technology, took great care to help Bruce reorganize his lab (after you discovered you had a knack for meticulously alphabetizing everything from chemicals to coffee mugs), and politely sparred with Natasha, who grudgingly admitted you were surprisingly tough yet considerate.

Meanwhile, Bucky quietly observed you. He watched you cheerfully fix up the lounge furniture after Thor accidentally broke a coffee table. He saw you carefully water the potted plants in the hallway, eager to ensure none of Earth’s “fragile vegetation” withered on your watch. Little by little, Bucky found himself drawn to your presence—drawn to your soft laughter, your bright curiosity.

But one thing stood out above all else: you never once bragged about your title. You never boasted about your Asgardian heritage or demanded special treatment. You even seemed embarrassed whenever anyone called you ‘Prince (Y/N).’ Instead, you were humble—sometimes painfully so. And that humility, combined with that sweet, open-minded wonder, made Bucky’s heart do somersaults he hadn’t felt in years.

Bucky sat in the compound’s lounge one afternoon, pretending to read a newspaper while sneaking glances your way. You were studying a half-eaten bag of potato chips like they were the eighth wonder of the world.

“Steve,” Bucky murmured, beckoning his friend closer.

Steve, doing his best to hide an amused smile, leaned in. “What’s up?”

Bucky tilted the newspaper so Steve could see you turning the potato-chip bag upside down, letting crumbs tumble out onto your hand. “He’s cute,” Bucky muttered under his breath, so quietly it nearly dissolved into air.

“…Should I act surprised? It was obvious from the moment you volunteered to show him around the tower,” Steve finished, his voice just as low. He flicked his gaze from Bucky to you and back again, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Bucky rolled his eyes but couldn’t quite hide the hint of pink that dusted his cheeks. “I’m trying to be subtle, all right?”

Steve snorted. “That’s rich coming from the guy who’s sneaking glances every ten seconds.”

Bucky’s gaze drifted again to you—now tapping the bottom of the potato chip bag in an effort to extract the last crumb. The entire display was so earnestly adorable that Bucky had to bite back a smile. “Look,” Bucky sighed, voice dropping lower, “he’s Thor’s brother. A prince. And I’m—well—” He gestured vaguely at himself, as if that summed up a lifetime’s worth of complications. “You really think he’d be interested?”

“Yes,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I do.”

Bucky opened his mouth to protest—he’s just curious about Earth, he’s friendly to everyone, it doesn’t mean anything—but then, as if on cue, you turned around in your seat. The instant your eyes met Bucky’s, your face lit with delight. You waved at him so earnestly that you almost spilled the bag of chips.

Bucky swallowed. “Fine,” he muttered, giving Steve a pointed look. “Maybe there’s a small chance.”

Steve suppressed a laugh, nudging Bucky forward. “Then go talk to him. Ask about chips, or Earth cuisine, or literally anything. Just say something.”

Bucky tried to summon that stoic confidence that sometimes worked for him. Instead, he felt like a high school kid with a crush. “Right,” he mumbled. “Be casual. Real casual.”

He stood up, discreetly adjusting his jacket, and made his way over to you. You greeted him with a bright smile—still holding that bag of chips as if you’d discovered gold. “Hello, Bucky!” you said. “I didn’t realize such simple food could taste so addictive.”

Bucky felt his heart do a little flip at the sound of his name on your lips. “Yeah, uh…chips,” he replied brilliantly, jamming his hand in his pocket in a desperate attempt to appear nonchalant. “They’re a big deal around here. We’ve got, uh…like, 70 flavors, I think.”

Your eyes widened. “Seventy?!”

“Maybe more,” Bucky corrected himself. He cleared his throat. “So, you like them?”

“Very much. I fear I might become dependent,” you admitted, glancing a little sheepishly at the half-empty bag. “But enough about me—how’s your day? I noticed you’ve been reading that newspaper for a while.”

Bucky cringed internally. Busted. “Oh, yeah—lots of…uh…interesting articles,” he fibbed, holding up the folded paper. He glanced at the front page, realized it was yesterday’s news, and hastily lowered it again. “Anyway, I was thinking, maybe we could…you know, get out for a while? Go, uh…check out a café nearby.”

Your brow furrowed, confusion creeping across your features. “But the Compound has a coffee machine. It’s in the kitchen, right? I can fetch you coffee, if you like.”

“No, no,” Bucky corrected, trying to keep his composure. “I mean, we could go out. Just you and me. Kind of an…outing.” He struggled with the word date, but it hovered there, unsaid.

Your eyes went wide, as though another revelation had dawned upon you. “Oh! You need supplies? Are we on a mission?”

“No, not a mission,” Bucky explained, scratching the back of his neck. “Just hanging out. Relaxing. Maybe having a nice conversation—away from everyone else.”

You nodded, albeit slowly. “A private conversation…in a place that also serves coffee?”

“Right,” Bucky confirmed, trying not to seem too relieved. “It’s…well, on Earth, we call that a ‘date.’”

He finally said it—date. His palms were sweaty, but he held your gaze, waiting.

“Oh!” you exclaimed, brows shooting up. “I’ve read about dates in one of the Midgardian relationship guidebooks. Something about courting rituals and paying for each other’s drinks to demonstrate affection?”

Bucky’s cheeks felt warmer by the second. “Yeah, that’s…that’s the general idea. You interested?”

“Yes!” you said, then paused, a flicker of doubt crossing your features. “But do we need to bring my father into this? Thor mentioned father-gifts or is that just for official betrothals? I don’t want to be rude.”

Off to the side, half-hidden in the hallway, Steve pinched the bridge of his nose to stifle a laugh. Bucky shot him a quick glare—thanks for the backup, pal. Chuckling nervously, Bucky shook his head. “No father-gifts required. On Earth, it’s usually just between, well…the two people going on the date.”

Your shoulders visibly relaxed. “Ah, excellent. That simplifies things. I wouldn’t know what to buy your father anyway—does he prefer golden chalices or—?”

“No, no,” Bucky interjected quickly, biting his lip to keep from outright laughing. “Seriously, no father involvement. We just go, maybe sit down, order coffee, talk.”

You seemed to take a moment to let that sink in. Then, you grinned wide. “That sounds delightful. When do we depart for this coffee date?”

“How about tomorrow morning? Around ten?” Bucky offered.

You placed a hand over your heart, nodding firmly. “Ten in the morning. I will be ready. Should I wear armor, or is that too formal?”

Bucky glanced at Steve again, who was now silently cracking up. He smothered a grin, turning back to you. “Casual clothes are fine. Maybe just…I dunno…a shirt and jeans, if you have them?”

“Ah, yes! The mortal garb. I’ll do my best not to clash patterns.” You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Though everything on Earth seems to clash with my Asgardian boots.”

Bucky let out a soft laugh, feeling tension he didn’t realize he’d been holding in slip away. “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

Moments later, you excused yourself to research casual Earth attire, leaving Bucky standing in the lounge with a strangely giddy feeling in his chest. That’s when Steve sauntered in, arms folded, his smile practically ear-to-ear. “You see?” Steve teased. “That wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t quite hide his grin. “I almost had to explain father-gifts, so maybe a little complicated.”

Steve chuckled. “Looked like you handled it just fine. And if you need a quick escape route tomorrow, you know I’ve got your back.”

Bucky gave him a playful shove. “Thanks, punk.”

Steve shrugged, still grinning. “Anytime, jerk.”

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lettingtimepass · 1 year ago

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I was just reminded that canonically Tony gave Bruce an island and together they built a tiki bar and carved their initials into the bar top 🥹🥹🥹💔💔💔🙃🙃🙃

#FELLAS IS IT GAY.......#Stanner #Science Boyfriends #Tony Stark x Bruce Banner #She Hulk

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book-place-incorrect-quotes · 1 year ago

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Steve: We need to cause a distraction!

Bruce: We need someone who can be really annoying and draw a lot of attention away from us!

Tony: *pushing Y/N to the front of the group* It’s your time to shine, kid!

#mcu #mcu x reader #avengers incorrect quotes #mcu incorrect quotes #avengers x reader #avengers #steve rogers x reader platonic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #bruce banner x reader platonic #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner #tony stark x reader #tony stark #tony stark x reader platonic

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mx-pastelwriting · 2 years ago

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Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Hello! I am doing Kinktober this year; here is the month's menu.

Minors do not interact!

1 ☆ 𝘽𝙚𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘼𝙡𝙚𝙟𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙧𝙤 𝙑𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙨

2 ☆ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙗𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙍𝙖𝙘𝙚: 𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙮𝙡 𝘿𝙞𝙭𝙤𝙣

3 ☆ 𝙈𝙤𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙨𝙚𝙭: 𝘽𝙤 𝙎𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙧

4 ☆ 𝘽𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙡𝙚 𝘾𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙣

5 ☆ 𝘽𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙎𝙚𝙭: 𝙀𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝘽𝙧𝙤𝙘𝙠

6 ☆ 𝙁𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚: 𝙑𝙤𝙡𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨

7 ☆ 𝘽𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙜𝙚: 𝙍𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙚 𝙆𝙧𝙖𝙮

8 ☆ 𝙎𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙪𝙨 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙛𝙤𝙮

9 ☆ 𝙁𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙎𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙎𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙧 𝘽𝙧𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙩

10 ☆ 𝘾𝙤𝙘𝙠 𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙎𝙣𝙖𝙥𝙚

11 ☆ 𝘽𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙙: 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙎𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙝

12 ☆ 𝙋𝙝𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙎𝙚𝙭: 𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙚𝙡 𝘽𝙖𝙧𝙗𝙖

13 ☆ 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙥 𝙏𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚: 𝙃𝙤𝙨𝙚𝙖 𝙈𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙬𝙨

14 ☆ 𝘾𝙖𝙧 𝙎𝙚𝙭: 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝘼𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣

15 ☆ 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙍𝙞𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙏𝙤𝙣𝙮 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙠

16 ☆ 𝙎𝙚𝙭 𝙏𝙖𝙥𝙚 & 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 2: 𝘽𝙧𝙪𝙘𝙚 𝘽𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙧

17 ☆ 𝙎𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝘿𝙞𝙥𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙍𝙚𝙢𝙪𝙨 𝙇𝙪𝙥𝙞𝙣

18 ☆ 𝙃𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙁𝙪𝙘𝙠: 𝘿𝙪𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙑𝙖𝙣 𝘿𝙚𝙧 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙚

19 ☆ 𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙮: 𝘼𝙡𝙛𝙞𝙚 𝙎𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙨

20 ☆ 𝙊𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙎𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝙏𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮

21 ☆ 𝙏𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚𝙙: 𝙏𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙨 𝙃𝙚𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙩

22 ☆ 𝙈𝙞𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙧 𝙎𝙚𝙭: 𝙃𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙞𝙗𝙖𝙡

23 ☆ 𝙊𝙪𝙩𝙙𝙤𝙤𝙧: ��𝙤𝙥𝙞𝙖/𝙋𝙖𝙥𝙖 𝙀𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙨 𝙄𝙑

24 ☆ 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚: 𝙔𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙪 𝙐𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖

25 ☆ 𝘿𝙤𝙪𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙋𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝙏𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮 & 𝘼𝙡𝙛𝙞𝙚 𝙎𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙨

26 ☆ 𝙂𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙁𝙖𝙩 𝙂𝙪𝙢/𝙏𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙤 𝙏𝙤𝙮𝙤𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙪

27 ☆ 𝙁𝙤𝙧𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙊𝙧𝙜𝙖𝙨𝙢: 𝙍𝙚𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙚 𝙆𝙧𝙖𝙮

28 ☆ 𝙎𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧: 𝙅𝙤𝙝𝙣𝙣𝙮 𝘿𝙤𝙜𝙨

29 ☆ 𝙒𝙖𝙭 𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮: 𝙀𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧

30 ☆ 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙉𝙚𝙜𝙖𝙣 𝙎𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙝

31 ☆ 𝙑𝙞𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧 𝙒𝙖𝙧: 𝙅𝙞𝙢 𝙃𝙤𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙧

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI, or reposted on any other platform without permission.

♥ mx-pastelwriting does give consent to "reblog," sharing links to direct work, and being in recommend lists.

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literaryavenger · 1 year ago

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Can I be him?

Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 4.8K

A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤

Masterlist

Being an Avenger is not easy.

The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…

Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.

For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.

It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.

You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related.

Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.

You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.

You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.

The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.

Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.

It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training.

The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.

You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.

Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.

Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.

Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.

You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.

At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.

Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch.

Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.

Because of me.

That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity.

You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.

Not that you ever do.

If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.

Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.

Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.

But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked.

The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.

You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.

You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.

Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.

Bucky knew then he was in love.

But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down.

You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.

So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.

But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.

Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.

That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.

He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing.

Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.

So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.

Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.

But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.

Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.

You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.

You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.

Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.

You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.

Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.

And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.

He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.

Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.

Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.

So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.

He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.

He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.

But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo.

Bucky did notice, though.

He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.

He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.

When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days.

He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.

It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely.

You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life.

A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it.

You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates.

And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?

He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?

Of course it’s not me.

It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear.

Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.

He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.

Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.

But Bucky didn’t read that.

He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.

It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.

After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.

It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.

He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.

It’s silly to say, but you miss him.

Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.

He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.

You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.

A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.

You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.

You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.

Or at least that’s what you think.

As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.

Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”

That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.

You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.

Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.

Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.

The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.

The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.

“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”

Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.

He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.

But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.

His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.

Right?

He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.

But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.

“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.

“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.

As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.

Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.

As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.

Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.

When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.

That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.

That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.

He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.

Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.

Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.

Because you’re going to wake up.

Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.

Everything is dying.

Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?

No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.

He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.

He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.

But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.

Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.

After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.

That he could’ve lived with.

But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.

Not that he has to.

While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.

You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.

You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.

You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?

You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.

When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.

But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.

You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.

“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.

For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.

“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.

It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?”

You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

“I’m okay…” He reassures you.

Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?”

“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”

“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”

“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.

“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”

Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?

You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.

Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.

“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”

“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”

Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?

Could I be him?

“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.

“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.

“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.

Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.

“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?

“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.

“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.

It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!”

Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.

Instead you lean in and kiss him.

Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”

You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.

“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again.

Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?

It looks like he can be him after all.

2K notes · View notes

braveclementine · 8 months ago

Text

I'm Running Out of Chapter Names

Warnings: 18+readersonly, pet names, oral, daddy kink, smut, lots of angst, fluff

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OCs, which consist of Penny Fury, Elizabeth Nelson, Elijah Chan, Katya Venice, Violetta Moscow, Lan Le, Josh, Trang Tien, Ahni Jallow, Mai Ito, and Ghaida Kashual as well as other OCs that will come up throughout the story.

Ghaida in her bridesmaid dress at Elizabeth and Elijahs' wedding.

🫔👩‍🎓 şŤㄖℝү 😱🥗

"Tony." Trang whined, pushing away the man hovering constantly by her side. "I'm pregnant, not handicapped or dying. I need my work space."

"Sorry." Tony retreated like a puppy with his tail between his legs, hovering at a much better distance, "I'm just worried."

"Yes, and I love that about you, but I'm fine. The lil' baby is fine. We're all fine. Now go back to your work bubs." Trang smirked, pushing her glasses up on her nose, turning back to her new project.

They were new arrows for Clint, Katya, and Kate. Inspired by Elizabeth's water, any person hit with them would turn into a cube of ice. But there were still a few kinks that had to be worked out with the firing of the tips.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty? Maybe you shouldn't be on your feet right now." Tony fretted, pacing a little.

Trang put the arrows down, turned, and walked over to Tony. She pushed him down into his chair and straddled him. Bruce looked up from his work and started to watch.

"Tony." Trang said in a warning voice. She wrapped her hand tightly around his tie. "You really, really need to be a good boy, okay?"

"Yep." Tony piped out, wrapping his arms around her waist, leaning forwards to kiss along her collarbone.

"You're being bad." But Trang laughed as he tickled her lightly, hugging him tightly. "Damnit Tony."

"I'm gonna tell Cap you said a bad word." Tony said gleefully, standing up with her in his arms, kissing her again, and then putting her down on her feet, "I am sorry about the hovering. I'm just excited."

"I know." Trang said softly, cupping his face and rubbing her thumb against his cheek. "I'm excited too Tony, but I didn't want a baby to change the way you treat me. That's all. I'm fine. Nothing's changed."

"You're gonna be a mom." Tony whispered against her hair. "Of my child. God I fucking love you."

Trang smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Now go work Tony."

"Yes momma." Tony kissed the top of her head and went back to his work station.

Bruce chuckled and went back to work as well. Trang winked at him, "Love you too Bruce."

Bruce laughed louder now and said, "Love you too Trang. I sort've love you Tony."

"Hey, feelings mutual man." Tony smirked, clapping the other male scientist on the back.

And behind the corner of the wall, a young African American girl clenched her fists in jealousy.

❌🥿 𝕡Ỗｖ 𝐜ⓗÃή𝓰ε 🦔🔭

"You're getting so big." Steve whispered. Penny was laying in his bed, the two of them alone together as Steve ran the fetoscope across her stomach, the two of them looking at the rather large baby inside of her now. "Aww he's so cute."

They didn't know the gender yet, being only roughly five-ish months now and not wanting to know until he or she was birthed. Penny still wasn't sure with names. Names were such a big responsibility. I mean, she would literally give this baby a name of which they would be called for the rest of their lives.

"Does he hurt you at all?" Steve asked in worry. "Rue kicked Elizabeth really hard when she was inside her womb. I'm sure mine will do the same."

"He doesn't kick to much." Penny said, which was true. "He's very calm so far. I'm sure later he'll kick though. But it's okay. Plus, Rue had to share room with Kisa and Mateo. This little one gets all of the room to himself." She giggled and Steve chuckled.

"I love you." Steve sighed in content, running his lips across her bump now. He kissed there sweetly and when Penny let out a soft, breathy moan, Steve smirked. He kissed lower, before slowly undoing the button of her jeans. He looked up at her through his lashes and Penny whimpered.

"You in the mood sweetheart?" Steve asked softly, slowly pulling the jeans off.

"Fuck yes." Penny fell back into the pillows as he started to touch her against her lacey lingerie.

"How do you want me to be tonight?" Steve whispered against her baby bump, kissing the mounded skin sweetly. "Demanding, sweet, loving, harsh? I don't know how you're body is feeling today so I need you to tell me."

"I want. . . a mix of sweet and demanding." Penny whispered. "I want to follow your orders, but I also need the motions to be. . . gentle today."

"Good girl. You're so good for me." Steve hummed, kissing up her thigh now, before licking a stripe through her pulsing cunt. She whined right then and there, already turned on immensely. "Oh Steve!"

"Yes, moan my name cookie." Steve mumbled against her pussy, nipping at her clit now, his large hands clenched tightly on her thighs. "I want to hear you scream when you let go now, okay? I want you to scream my name so loudly that Sammy can hear you from the roof and Bruce can hear you from the lab. Scream cookie."

His fingers pushed into her pussy, curling on her g-spot almost instantly and she arched off the bed, screaming his name till her voice felt hoarse. Black spots danced in front of her eyes and she collapsed back down on the bed, panting.

Steve hovered over her, his face amused. "Oh sweetheart. I haven't even touched you with my cock yet. If that's how you react with my fingers. . . oh cookie."

Penelope whimpered, reaching for Steve with her hands, "Please Captain? I want you inside of me."

Steve teased her clit a little longer between her fingers before he lifted her hips up. "Yes, I want to be inside of you too sweetheart. God you have such a pretty pussy. She feels like silk around me." He pushed inside, groaning, tossing his head back. "Oh you're so perfect."

"Yes." Penny sighed in pleasure, closing her eyes, tilting her head against the pillow. "Oh Stevie, that feels so so good."

"Good." Steve whispered sweetly, laying over her a little more, causing a little more pleasure. "I'm gonna roll over now, okay?"

Penny hummed and Steve rolled over so that she was now over him, sinking down on his cock a little more. Steve grabbed fistfuls of each cheek, squeezing, massaging, then spanking her a little bit. "You're gonna let me know if I spank you to hard, right cookie?" Steve asked, breathless as he continued to cup and clap her cheeks.

"Of course daddy." Penny moaned out without thinking.

Steve slapped her ass a little harder, "Daddy huh?"

Penny looked down and blushed heavily. "I- Tony-"

"No, no, don't make excuses." Steve smirked now. "It's been a while since someones called me daddy in bed." He thrusted a little harder now and Penny moaned loudly at the pleasurable feeling. "And I am gonna be a daddy aren't I? Oh yes, you can call me that again. Go on, scream it." Steve's eyes twinkled with mischief.

Steve rocked her against his hips and Penny moaned as his length stretched her walls different ways as she was rocked against him. "Oh fuck! Fuck! St- Daddy!" She collapsed against his chest, breathing heavily as her body spasmed over his.

"Oh fuck." Steve shouted, cock twitching inside of her at the nickname. "Shit cookie. Oh!" He spilled into her almost immediately, burying his face in her neck.

The two of them recovered after a moment and Steve groaned, lifting her off of him slowly. "Shit sweetheart, did I hurt you?" He asked, touching her burning ass. "Shit!" he sat up, looking panicked.

Penny quickly grabbed his arm. "It felt amazing Steve. It didn't hurt at all, I swear. I loved it."

Steve relaxed, dipping down to capture her lips. She kissed back fiercely, wishing she had more strength to take control of the kiss. Steve pulled away slowly. "Do you want me to run you a bath or do you just want me to grab you a washcloth?"

"Washcloth." Penny mumbled, snuggling against him, wrapping her limbs around him like an octopus. "Already sleepy."

"Sleep cookie." Steve kissed the side of her head and smiled as she fell asleep.

🐾😨 ℙσ𝐯 ᑕħ𝒶ⓝＧє 🔬🥘

"Hey Elijah?" Elizabeth asked quietly. He paused, not having seen her where she was sitting, looking out the window of her bedroom at New York. He walked over to where she was, sitting down next to her.

"Yes, Milady?"

"The others are all pregnant, right?" She asked, looking over at him now. "Like, they got pregnant at the same time?"

"Yes. Loki and Thor did a fertility spell. I guess it was only supposed to be for Trang but. . . well I'm not sure how it traveled. But yes, everyone is pregnant from it." Elijah said. He smiled a little. "Natasha is probably happiest of them all. She couldn't have kids before."

Elizabeth nodded and then asked, "Was this before I died?"

He sucked in his breath and then said slowly, "Yes. Yes, they conceived before. . . but they didn't find out until a few weeks ago."

"That's why I'm not pregnant." Elizabeth sighed. "I lost my baby when I died, didn't I?"

"We don't know that you were pregnant." Elijah said. "There is always a-"

"Don't lie." Elizabeth sighed. "Every woman in this building is pregnant, even ones that couldn't have children because their reproductive organs were taken out, or had their tubes tied like Sharon."

Elijah blinked, "Run that last bit by me again? You know Sharon?"

"No her name was in the book. I don't really know who she is though." Elizabeth responded.

"Ah, you've been reading Ghaida's book." He murmured.

"Yeah. It's interesting." Elizabeth shrugged. She was quiet for a moment and then said, "So I had to be. Whose child was he?"

Elijah sighed, "Do you really want to know?"

"I have to." Elizabeth said.

"I don't know." Elijah said. "But Viden knows. . . if you ask him. If you really want to know. But Elizabeth. . . if you look into this. . . you're going to be upset. And make sure before you ask that you know you can handle the answer."

Elizabeth's eyes flashed- not the golden colour that Ghaida's did- but a lime green colour. And then the tears started to spill.

🐉🤼‍♂️ ⓅỖ𝐯 𝓒ⓗᗩｎｇє ⭕️🩹

Penelope was a little sore when she sat down and ate her dinner. Steve kept smirking when she would occasionally shift around in her seat. She kept playfully glaring at him.

Elijah seemed upset over something, looking down at his food and not really eating it. She wished that she could comfort him, but no one was interacting with him as he had asked not to be. So she wouldn't push his boundaries.

Sam and Bucky were on one side of the dinner table, laughing with Clint and Rhodey as they drank and told jokes.

Elizabeth suddenly came in, making a beeline straight for Sam. She just climbed on his lap, burying her face into his shirt, and burst into quiet tears. Everyone stared at her in surprise. Penny wasn't sure that she had seen Elizabeth with anyone so affectionately before since the. . . accident except for Elijah. Oh and Bucky one day but she hadn't been well that day.

"Hey baby, what's wrong?" Sam asked, trying to pull her back a little to see her face.

"I'm sorry." She hiccupped softly, but wouldn't lift her head.

Everyone then looked, bewildered, at Elijah. Penny saw he just looked even more depressed than before, glumly just staring at Elizabeth's back. He caught Penny's eye and sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"She asked Viden whose child she was pregnant with before she died." Elijah whispered quietly, as though hoping Elizabeth wouldn't hear.

Steve got up, moving over to put a hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Twins." Elijah muttered. "One each."

Penny didn't look over at the super soldiers, not wanting to see any of their pain on their faces. But she couldn't help it, and peaked. Sam, Bucky, and Steve all looked like their hearts had just broken, and they probably had.

"I'm sorry." Elizabeth whimpered again.

Sam stood up, carrying her in his arms and the four of them left the room. Penny got up too and went over to Elijah. She put her hand lightly on top of his. He turned his hand upwards to lace their fingers together, but didn't look at her.

"Are you okay?"

"I feel helpless." He sighed. "I can't do anything to help her. I can't. . . I don't know. I can't reverse time."

"How'd she find out anyways?" Penny asked.

"She just put two and two together. Everyone being pregnant including Natasha meant she should've been pregnant. But the date was before the death. . . so she kind've knew. And now she's also connected to Viden so. . . " Elijah shrugged. He glanced over at her, "Do you want to stay in my room tonight?"

Penny smiled a little. "Sure."

He led her to a different room that was very clearly Elijah's. Posters of different parts of Hong Kong, glass frames that held different bird feathers- each one clearly labelled. There was a small bookcase that had mostly bird books on it, also small figurines of carved birds. There was a pair of binoculars on the shelf, along with two different kinds of cameras.

There was a map of the world up against another wall, different coloured push pins in it, with small labels of which birds he hadn't seen yet and where they were. There was a large binder that was open to a page. There were polaroid pictures in it, of birds he had caught in the wild. There were also sketch books lined neatly in a box, loose scraps of paper showing pencil drawings of birds.

Penny looked over at Elijah. The slightly awkward way of which he was standing, as though waiting for a judgment call meant that she was probably one of the few people to ever be in his room.

"So you like birds?" Penny teased, carefully turning a page in the binder. There was a small journal beside it, listing all sorts of attributes for different birds. What they ate, scientific names, where they lived, what their nests looked like, their predators, their different colours, even strange put together words for what their different calls sounded like.

"I love them. Have, ever since I was a little boy." Elijah said quietly. "There's something about being in the sky, being free. Without being in an airplane or an Iron man suit. I sort've get to experience it. Mai did, Elizabeth can sort've, Katya and Sam also sort've. But Lan. . . Lan had it. His descriptions were amazing, the way he described flying. Sometimes. . . I wish I could fly like that."

Penny looked over at him, "Do you ever wish that you could just. . . fly away?"

Elijah looked up at the ceiling and Penny glanced up. The ceiling had been painted to look almost 3-D. With blue sky and white fluffy clouds that looked as though you could actually go behind them. "Steve did them." Elijah said when he saw Penny had looked up too. "For me." He sat down on his bed.

"There were times I did wish I could fly away from everything. But it wouldn't solve anything." Elijah said. "And are things difficult now? Yes. But weren't they always? Yes. And do I love the people closest to me enough that I wouldn't fly even if I could? Yes."

He lifted his shirt up over his head, tossing it in the hamper. It was the second time that Penny had seen him bare and she looked at the cheetah tattoo that was sprawled across his chest. He touched it unconsciously. "I love her, you know. More than anything in the world. She's so. . . confused. And hurt. She can't understand her emotions and even when she does she doesn't know why she feels a certain way. And I can't help her. Not really."

"Are you. . . upset that she's turned to others?"

"No." Elijah said firmly. "But I'm upset that she doesn't understand that things that happen to her, aren't her fault. That losing the twins in her wasn't her fault. She had no idea she was pregnant, had no idea she was going to die. I should've kept her home. I should've. . ."

"How were you supposed to know?" Penny asked, sitting next to him. "She didn't know, you didn't know. The only one that would know is Ghaida and she didn't ask. She didn't think to ask. You say Elizabeth shouldn't blame herself, but neither should you."

"I'm supposed to protect her."

"You're supposed to love her." Penny corrected. "But you can't shelter her every step of the way either."

Elijah was quiet for a moment and then said, "It didn't stop there. Her asking Viden about what she lost. She asked about her past. Kept asking and asking. She found out about the rapes and she's just. . ." He broke. Sobbing into his hands.

Penny pulled him into her, letting him cry into her. "I can't. . . I don't know how to do this! It wasn't supposed to be me!"

"It's okay." Penny whispered softly, both startled and sad as he cried in her arms. Even when he lost his best friends, lost Elizabeth, he hadn't broken down like this. His tears had been stoic, had been silent. Now he was like a child, unable to stop the waterfall. "It's okay."

"I'm not supposed to be alive." Elijah sobbed. "It was supposed to be Lan. It was. . . "

Penny hugged him tightly, just holding him until he'd worn himself out. When he had, he sat up, clearing his throat, scooching off the bed and going to the bathroom. When he came back, she saw he had washed his face with a washcloth.

He cleared his throat again, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize." Penny said softly, reaching out hesitantly to touch the ends of his hair. He leaned into her touch and she cupped his face, "Elijah, you're human. You're allowed to feel this way, you're allowed to show your emotions this way."

"I'm supposed to be a man." Elijah sighed. "The strong one. How can I be that, do that, when I break down like that? That's not who I am, human or not."

Penny smiled a little in understanding. "It shows you care about her. It shows that you do love her more than anyone else in your life. It's okay Elijah, I'm not going to judge you or think less of you because you showed emotions."

Elijah looked at her then, "You know that when I say I love Elizabeth more than anything in the world, I still love you too right? It doesn't mean-"

"Elijah." Penny put her hand over his. "I know that. We can't love everyone equally, we're always going to have favorites. I mean. . . okay don't tell them I said this but I love both Violetta and Katya. . . but I love Violetta more. But I still love Katya, you know?"

"Exactly." Elijah said softly and then started to smirk, "I know who you love the most though."

"Who?" Penny said, smirking because he was never going to guess it. The one she loved the most, the one at the top of her list was someone she almost never got to sleep with. But she loved him the most.

"Rhodey." Elijah smirked, opening his eyes to see the stunned look on her face, "Am I right?"

"H-how- no way- how did you-" Penny blushed bright red.

Elijah chuckled, "I admit, it was a bit surprising considering the two of you don't interact to much. But I have a few guesses. One, I think he reminds you of the character that your father has. Some of the same personality traits. Two, he's extremely sweet. He's really your ideal lover based on your type. And three, you're attracted to African American men first. So him, Sam, Heimdall, and T'Challa are all at the top of your list. And I bet if you'd known Josh a little longer he would have climbed up there as well."

Penny's face was burning as he said all of this and she covered her face with her hands, "Oh God, am I really that obvious?"

"No. I don't think Rhodey knows, whether that's good or bad news to you. I'm just extremely observant." Elijah said. He paused and then added, "I also went to college for psychology so there's that."

Penny laughed nervously. "I just, I did think it was a little weird, loving Rhodey the most when I barely interacted with him."

"You're not weird, it's not weird." Elijah reassured her, turning off the light and covering both of them with the sheets. "And listen, if you want more time with Rhodey, his Wednesdays and Sundays are always free. I can even help you out."

Penny buried her face into his chest. "What if he doesn't like me like that though?"

Elijah snorted, "Then he's a dumbass."

"I think he likes Elizabeth better." Penny said uncertainly.

"So? Who cares?" Elijah asked and then chuckled, "It's not like he's your only man Penelope. But if it makes you feel any better, he really does like you. He has been looking for more time to spend with you, he just has been busy with the army. Same with Stephen and the Sanctorum. Want my advice? Tomorrow is Wednesday, so spend it with Rhodey. And when Stephen gets back from his mission, go spend some time with him. I think you'll feel better about everything."

"You should be a psychologist." Penny muttered.

"Good to know." Elijah laughed, putting his arm around her, holding her to him. "Goodnight sunshine."

"Good night hotstuff." Penny smirked into his chest.

"Oh you're definitely paying for that nickname later." Elijah whispered and Penny shivered as she fell asleep.

🫕🦷 ᑭ𝑜𝕍 ｃĦ𝔸ηĞⒺ 🛫🩺

Sams' heart was hurting. A lot.

He, Steve, and Bucky had retired back to Steve's room- which at this point was basically all three of them room- and he was rocking back and forth with Elizabeth in his arms. She wasn't exactly sobbing, though sometimes as she tried to speak, the crying would make it incomprehensible to hear her through her hics.

"Sugar." He whispered softly, "Sugar please look at me."

Elizabeth looked at him with watery eyes. Steve and Bucky sat on either side of him, both looking lost and concerned. Neither of them knowing how to help.

"Please tell me why you're so upset." Sam whispered. He could understand, to an extent. That she had been pregnant with twins. One his, one Buckys. But to apologize to him? And it wasn't like it was her fault she had been killed. No one had known she was pregnant and she hadn't been the only one. Mai had been pregnant too, with Visions child and she was still dead.

"B-because I- I lost y- your child." Elizabeth hiccupped, not crying at the moment. "I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't- I didn't-"

"Doll." Bucky whispered softly, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Doll calm down. It's. . . it's not your fault. It's okay, alright? We're not mad at you because you didn't do anything. It's not like you wanted to die. And you didn't know you were pregnant."

Sam had stilled and Elizabeth was now rocking back and forth herself, looking uncertain. "B-But I lost them. I'm sorry!"

She dissolved into tears again. Sam noticed she couldn't even look at Steve and Sam gave Steve a raised eyebrow. Steve moved then, taking Elizabeth out of his arms. Steve curled Elizabeth into his chest, smoothing her hair back from his face. "I'm sorry." Elizabeth whimpered out, covering her eyes with her fists. "I'm sorry."

"Cookie." Steve whispered softly. "Why won't you look at me?"

"I don't want you to be mad at me. I'm so sorry." Elizabeth wailed. "I didn't want to lose the children."

"God cookie, I know that." Steve said softly. "Cookie, please look at me."

Her red eyes burned his heart. He inhaled deeply and cupped her face, "You're scared of me."

She shook her head vehemently, squeezing her eyes shut.

Sam exchanged a look with Bucky, who just looked lost.

Slowly, Steve asked, "Did Ghaida's book tell you that I would be mad at you?"

Elizabeth hesitated and then nodded, "I-It- the book- it had a page about s-someone named Sharon C-Carter. And that the two of y-you were having a baby. And you were mad at h-her because she l-lost it. A-A-And I don't want you to be-be-be mad a-a-a-a-t me for l-losing J-J-James and S-s-s-Sams' kids." Her sobs were frantic so that she could barely get the last few words out.

Steve sweetly kissed her cheek slowly and said, "I will never be mad at you cookie. Sharon was different. . . she didn't lose my child, like the way you did. You didn't mean it. You didn't know you were pregnant or you would have protected them and stayed home. You didn't mean to die and lose them. Yours was an accident. But Sharon's was on purpose."

"She killed her child?" Elizabeth's eyes went round with fear, shrinking down a little.

"Not in the way you're probably thinking." Bucky said quickly. "The child wasn't born yet, she was still in Sharon's womb. But there's this thing now that's called abortion. And it's where a woman can go in and the doctor will. . . well I'll skip the gruesome parts, but ultimately it kills the baby inside."

Elizabeth's eyes startled the three of them as they went from brown to a flat lime green. She said softly, "Planned Parenthood was a clinic established in black communities by Margaret Singer in 1916 in New York as part of the Ku Klux Klan to try and stop the black population from growing. Abortion is considered healthcare and is pushed by Feminists to encourage women to climb the corporate ladder." She blinked, her eyes returning to brown.

"Sounds about right." Sam muttered darkly.

"Why do your eyes turn green?" Bucky asked in interest, hoping to turn conversation to a lighter topic. And also if Elizabeth was distracted, she wouldn't be upset anymore.

"Viden said that every human has an aurora around them that we can't see." Elizabeth said, Buckys' wishes coming true as she was almost smiling now. "And that aurora would be our scent if we could do magic. And my scent is lime, so my eyes turn the colour of limes. Ghaida's eyes turn gold because her scent is oranges."

"Interesting." Steve looked dumbstruck. "Although I don't understand the magic part."

"It's based on a book series called The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel. Or really, the author got the idea from Viden. He was. . . an auraling." Elizabeth said softly, eyes fluttering as she started to feel fatigued. All of the crying had clearly tuckered her out.

"Do you want to stay with us tonight?" Steve asked softly.

Elizabeth hesitated, hands clutching the front of Steve's shirt, "You're not. . . you're not-"

"I know this could be to soon." Steve whispered softly, cupping her cheek, "Maybe I shouldn't be saying this, maybe it's to soon, maybe I'll scare you away. . . but I'm not mad Elizabeth. I. . . I love you. And I know that you barely know me, I get that. But you're so sweet and I know your past self and I know you're beating yourself up over something you can't control, something that you can't blame yourself before. And I want to reassure you that I will never be mad at you, never hate you, because I love you."

Bucky's eyes were wide behind Elizabeth's back and Sam had frozen like a deer in headlights. Steve's heart immediately started pounding in his chest at their reactions. He felt that he had said the wrong thing now.

Slowly, Elizabeth whispered, "I liked hearing you say that. It made me. . . happy."

Steve relaxed, feeling like he'd just had a rush and now he had come down from it. He tilted her chin towards him. "Doll, may I kiss you?"

Elizabeth didn't answer, leaning forwards and kissing him first, her eyes closed. He kissed her gently, tasting lime on her lips and he nearly chuckled. He pulled away slowly, not wanting to overwhelm or push her.

"I- I think I love you too." Elizabeth whispered, though she looked uncertain. "But I- I'm not sure about my emotions. I don't always. . ."

"It's okay." Steve interrupted calmly. "You don't have to worry about that cookie. Just let me love you and if you ever feel the same, then you can let me know. But you don't have to push it. I don't ever want to make you unhappy."

Elizabeth slowly got off of him, looking at Bucky. "Can I- May I kiss. . . you?"

"Of course doll." Bucky smiled, gently cupping her cheek. Steve relaxed into the pillows as they both kissed. Bucky sucked on her bottom lip a little, before releasing her and she looked a little dazed as she pulled away.

Elizabeth turned to Sam, blushing now, "Sammy?"

"Yes sugar?"

"Is it okay if I. . . are you alright if I kiss you too?"

"More than alright sugar." Sam grinned, closing his eyes as he felt her soft lips against his. She kissed him a little longer than the other two, now that she was a little more confident, although she was still blushing like fire as she pulled away.

Then she climbed under the covers, clutching tightly to Steve and Sam's shirts with her hands, her leg resting against Bucky.

Steve and Sam cuddled her as Bucky got out of bed, turning off the light, and then laying down by her legs.

"Good night Sugar."

"Good night Sammy. Good night James. Good night Stevie." Elizabeth mumbled sleepily.

"Good night doll." Bucky and Steve replied together, and then the four of them fell asleep.

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