#before they’re out of earshot you can hear Steve say what did you think I meant when I said I wanted a back rub?

[morganbritton132]

Eddie is on live, playing guitar in his home studio and talking to his audience about his creative process. The door opens behind the camera and you can see Eddie perk up before you hear Steve say, “What are you doing? Let’s go.”

“What?”

“Eddie Munson, do you want to get laid or not? Let’s go,” and then claps his hands like a dorky basketball coach.

Eddie’s just like, “Yeah, shit. Let’s go” and then just leaves. He comes back for his phone like two hours later and sees that he’s still live and is like, “huh” before ending it.

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[the-winter-spider]

But Daddy I Love Him Pt: 4 | B.Barnes

Word Count: 3kish

Warnings: physical abuse

A/N: I wanna say this will follow bucky & Steves story line in the MCU but im not going to write eveeeerrything that happens, you’ll just have to see what i mean!

Ugh hopefully they can get married before the war 🙄😇

Im going to be adding the year to the chapters because were about to do a back and forth with time jumps soon!

Masterlist

—

May 1943

You could feel their eyes on you, burning into your back as you turned the apple over in your hand, examining it. The hushed whispers reached your ears, and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up at the mention of Bucky’s name. You glanced at the ring on your left hand, a small smile tugging at your lips before you turned slightly, catching their eyes. Fake smiles appeared on both of their faces as they made their way toward you.

“Y/N! Hi! We missed you at brunch!” Sarah’s high-pitched voice rang out, dripping with false cheer.

“Yeah, I wasn’t hungry,” you replied, keeping your tone neutral as you placed the apple into your basket.

“Mm,” Hannah hummed, exchanging a quick look with Sarah. “Well, that’s not quite what we heard.”

You tilted your head slightly, resting your left hand on the basket to give them a full view of the ring. “And what did you hear?”

Their eyes zeroed in on the ring, and they gasped. “Oh my gosh! I heard about Tom, but I didn’t think it was true after what Dot said!” Sarah squeaked out.

“Oh, thank God. Dot’s going to be so happy James is still on the market,” Hannah added, a hint of relief in her voice.

Your eyes met Bucky’s across the store. He gave you a questioning look, silently asking if you were okay. You gave him a pleading look, desperate for an escape from this conversation.

“This isn’t from Tom,” you said flatly.

Their eyebrows knitted together in confusion before realisation dawned on their faces as Bucky approached. His arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close before he planted a kiss on your cheek. “Hello, ladies,” he greeted, his voice smooth and calm.

The shock on their faces was almost comical. Sarah’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, while Hannah looked like she was trying to process what was happening.

“So… you’re the one who put that ring on Y/N’s finger?” Sarah finally managed, her voice a mix of surprise and envy.

Bucky smiled, his gaze never leaving yours. “Sure am. And it’s going to stay there.” He glanced back at the women, his tone polite but firm. “Anything else you were wondering about?”

They exchanged awkward glances, clearly thrown off by Bucky’s presence. “No, we just… didn’t know,” Hannah stammered.

“Well, now you do,” you said, leaning into Bucky’s embrace. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ve got some shopping to finish.”

You were almost out of earshot when you heard Sarah mutter, “What a mess.” Your body tensed at the words, but before you could react, Bucky’s voice was in your ear, low and soothing. “Not worth it, darlin’,” he mumbled, his hand tightening gently on your waist, guiding you further away from the encounter.

As you walked together, Bucky leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “You okay, doll?”

You nodded, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Better now….thanks for rescuing me.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you as he pressed a tender kiss to your temple. “Always, sweetheart. Always.”

You continued through the store in comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly melting away. Bucky kept close, his presence grounding you. Every now and then, his thumb would brush against your side, a small gesture that reminded you just how much he cared.

As you reached the checkout line, Bucky looked down at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “You know, they’re just jealous,” he said, his voice casual but with an edge of protectiveness. “People like them don’t understand what we have.”

You glanced up at him, feeling a surge of warmth in your chest. “I don’t care what they think. I just… I just want us to be happy.”

Bucky’s smile widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “We are happy, doll. And nothing they say or think is gonna change that.”

You paid for your groceries, and as you walked out of the store, you felt lighter, more at ease. Bucky’s arm slipped around your shoulders, pulling you closer as you stepped into the sunlight. The world outside felt brighter, and with Bucky by your side, the whispers and judgments from others seemed insignificant.

“Let’s head home,” Bucky said, his tone gentle. “I’ll make us lunch before work, and we can forget about the rest of the world for a while.”

You smiled, leaning into him as you walked together. “That sounds perfect.”

As long as you had Bucky, the rest didn’t matter.

—

Bucky and Steve both had jobs. Bucky after he finished his training was supposed to not work in order to soak up every minute before he got deployed but that of course changed after he asked you to marry him, because he now he wanted to take of you and make sure you had everything your heart desired so he was working odd jobs. You told him he didn’t have to, you had some money saved up so you would be fine but he told you he insisted. You understood that, you really did, but were you ever bored, when Bucky was away training and Stevie was out working you were never this bored waiting on them. But things are different now. Before, you’d spend your days shopping, lounging by the pool, tinkering with things in your room, or hanging out with friends—or people you thought were your friends.

Now, all of that was off the table. Not that you’d trade being engaged to Bucky for anything; that meant everything to you. But the boredom of waiting for one of them to come home? That was going to be the death of you.

You had already cleaned the place twice over, and the items you brought back from your trip home with Steve were neatly put away. Now, you were just sitting on the couch, leg bouncing restlessly as you stared at the clock, willing it to move faster. Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

“Oh, screw this,” you muttered to no one in particular after five whole minutes of waiting. Grabbing your purse, you marched to the door, your hand hovering over the handle when you heard footsteps just outside. You froze. Neither of the boys were supposed to be back for at least another hour.

Three loud knocks echoed through the door. You didn’t move. A moment later, the knocks came again, harder this time, followed by a voice that made your blood run cold. “I know you’re in there, Y/N!”

You knew who it was from the first knock, but hearing his voice confirmed it. Your father. Your hands shook as you backed away from the door and grabbed the telephone. You dialled the number Bucky had given you for emergencies, praying it would connect quickly.

“Hello!” a voice boomed through the receiver.

“H-hi, um… is Bucky there?” you stammered.

“He’s busy, working. Who’s this?”

“His fiancée.”

There was a brief pause before the voice softened slightly. “Bucky’s fiancée, huh? You want me to give him a message?”

“Can you tell him my father is here?”

You could hear the confusion on the other end. “Are you in trouble, miss?”

Your breath hitched as you saw the door handle jiggle. He was trying to pick the lock. “Just tell him, please,” you whispered, before hanging up.

The door clicked open, and you took a deep breath, straightening your dress and fixing your composure. A glance at the ring on your finger gave you a sudden surge of confidence. You could do this. You had to.

The door creaked as it swung open, revealing your father in all his imposing glory. You tilted your head, meeting his gaze with a steely look of your own. “Breaking and entering? Not a good look for a Stark.”

He smirked, his eyes narrowing as he stepped inside. “I see Bucky’s already rubbing off on you,” he said, his tone dripping with disdain. “But let’s not pretend this is a surprise, Y/N. You knew I’d come looking for you.” You could see his eyes wandering around the apartment, judging with pure disgust.

You crossed your arms, standing your ground. “What do you want?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” His smile faded, replaced by a cold, calculating expression. “You’re coming home.”

“I am home,” you shot back, voice steady despite the fear clawing at your insides.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “This little rebellion of yours ends now. You think marrying some low-life, poor labourer, wannabe solider is going to protect you from me?”

Anger surged through you, rising from your toes to your chest, until it boiled over. You lifted your right hand, making a fist before extending your pointer finger at your father. “You don’t talk about him like that! He’s anything but…he’s a wonderful man… I love him!”

Your father let out a harsh, sinister laugh as he loosened the tie around his neck. “You don’t know the first thing about love. They always told me having a daughter would be a handful. I told them no, not my daughter. She’s a Stark—she knows better than to act up.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You’re making me look like a fool!” His voice boomed, echoing through the room as his hand shot out, gripping your right forearm painfully tight. He yanked you toward the door. “I’ve had enough of this foolery.”

“Stop! Y-you’re hurting me!” you cried, trying to plant your feet, but he only tightened his grip, dragging you forward.

“Good,” he hissed.

Desperation flooded you as you clawed at his hand with your left, digging your nails into his skin. His head snapped back to you, eyes blazing. “Stop it, Y/N! I swear to—” His voice halted abruptly as his eyes landed on your engagement ring. His grip shifted to your left wrist, squeezing it hard as he yanked your hand up to inspect the ring. “What the hell is this?”

“I’m engaged,” you spat back.

“To who?”

“Bucky,” you said, voice trembling.

His nostrils flared, rage twisting his features. He reached to rip the ring off your finger, and panic shot through you. “No! Stop!” Fear and adrenaline surged as you did the only thing you could think of—you bit his hand, hard, drawing blood. He roared in pain and shoved you away with force. You stumbled backward, crashing into the entry table, sending everything on it tumbling to the floor.

“FUCK!” he seethed, holding his bleeding hand. “You stupid, stupid girl.”

“P-people know,” you stuttered, trying to hold back tears as you scrambled to your feet, your body trembling from the shock.

That caught his attention. His eyes narrowed, panic briefly flickering across his face. If people knew, word would spread fast, especially in New York. His control over you would slip away.

“Who knows?” he demanded.

“Sarah and Hannah Jones,” you managed to say through the tears. The thing about the Jones’s was that they were gossipers.

“Marty’s daughters?” he asked, dread creeping into his voice.

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. He stared at you for a long, cold moment before spitting out, “You’re dead to me.” With that, he stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The force of it knocked pictures off the walls, sending them crashing to the floor.

You collapsed onto the ground, sobbing, your body shaking uncontrollably. Your arm and wrist throbbed with pain, already bruising from his grip. The ache in your lower back from being shoved into the table only added to the agony. You were left alone, surrounded by shattered memories and broken pieces of your life.

The good memories of your father had officially been tainted. The stained glass pedestal you once placed him on had already begun to crack, but this—this shattered it entirely. The man who had once been your hero, the father you had looked up to, was gone. In his place stood a stranger, someone who saw you as a possession to control, not as a daughter to love.

You tried to steady your breath, but the betrayal, the pain, it was all too much. The tears came harder, your sobs echoing in the empty room. The weight of it all was crushing, suffocating, as you realised just how far he was willing to go to maintain his grip on you.

Suddenly, the door burst open again, and Bucky rushed in, his eyes wild with worry. He dropped to his knees beside you, gathering you into his arms. “Sweetheart, what happened? Are you okay?” His voice was laced with panic as he looked you over, taking in the bruises already forming on your skin.

Relief washed over you at the sound of his voice, but when you tried to speak, the words caught in your throat, replaced by another sob.

Bucky’s expression shifted from worry to fury as he took in the scene—you shaking on the floor, the shattered items on the floor, and the lingering fear in your eyes. He crouched closer, his touch infinitely gentle as he cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear.

“Doll, what happened?” His voice trembled with barely restrained anger. His eyes searched yours for some sign that you were okay, though he knew you weren’t. He reached for your shaking hands, taking both of them in his, and brought them to his lips, leaving soft kisses over your knuckles.

You tried to speak again, but the fear and pain were overwhelming. Instead, you slowly lifted your bruised wrist, showing him the damage. His gaze darkened, and his jaw clenched as he carefully cradled your hand.

“He did this to you?” His voice was low, dangerous.

You nodded, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. “He… he came here, Bucky. He tried to… I didn’t know what to do…”

Bucky’s grip tightened, but his touch remained gentle as he pulled you into his arms. His embrace was firm, protective, as if shielding you from the world. “You’re safe now,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’m here, and I won’t let him hurt you…. I should have been here, I’m so sorry i wasn’t here”

You buried your face in his chest, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe you. The tremors running through your body slowly began to subside, though the pain and fear still lingered. For a moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the steady rhythm of Bucky’s heartbeat and the safety of his arms.

After a long moment, he pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. “We need to make sure he never comes near you again,” he said, his voice steely with determination. “I’ll talk to Steve, and we’ll figure something out”

“I need to talk to H-Howie,” you whispered, your lip trembling.

Bucky nodded, his thumb gently wiping away your tears. “Whatever you want, darlin’.”

Before you could say more, Steve’s voice echoed from the doorway. “Buck, what did I tell you about shutting the—what happened?!”

His voice was laced with panic as he took in the scene: shattered picture frames, a broken vase, the overturned telephone, and your purse and keys scattered across the floor. But what concerned him most was the sight of you, trembling in Bucky’s arms.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Steve. Embarrassment and shame flooded your chest, suffocating you. The last couple years you’ve been having issues with your Father, you’ve been able to keep the boys out of it, but twice in a week was too much and now it felt like your problems were a burden, weighing down on Bucky and Steve when they already had so much to deal with.

“Bucky?” you asked quietly, ignoring Steve’s worried gaze.

“Yes, doll?”

“I-I think I want to lie down for a bit, is that o-okay?”

Bucky’s hands gently cradled your face, his eyes soft and full of understanding. “That’s more than okay.” He shot a look at Steve that said, I’ll tell you later, then stood up, helping you to your feet.

Steve’s eyes followed your every move, his jaw tightening when he saw the bruises darkening on your arm. Steve had always hated bullies, and seeing you like this made his blood boil.

Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, holding you close as he guided you toward the bedroom. His presence was comforting, a steady anchor in the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You leaned into him, grateful for his unwavering support.

As you reached the bedroom, Bucky helped you sit on the edge of the bed. “I’ll be right here, sweetheart,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Get some rest. We’ll figure everything out.”

You nodded, exhausted both physically and emotionally. Bucky’s reassuring words were like a balm to your soul, and as you lay down, the tension in your body began to ease.

He pulled the blanket over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before stepping back. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

Before he could leave, you reached out, grabbing his hand. “Stay… please,” you whispered.

Bucky’s eyes softened even more. “Of course, doll.” He kicked off his shoes and lay down beside you, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, letting it lull you into a sense of safety.

As you began to drift off, you could hear Steve’s low voice outside the room, talking to someone on the phone. You knew he was taking action, ensuring your father wouldn’t come near you again. For now, though, you focused on Bucky’s warmth, letting it chase away the lingering shadows of fear.

In his arms, you finally allowed yourself to breathe.

[whisperlullaby]

Just Say It And I’m Yours- Ch. 3

Summary: You and Steve are growing closer even inviting Bucky to your weekly pizza night, but when something happens at work you need their help before something bad happens.

Warnings: Mentions of Domestic violence, violence, cursing

A/N: Special thanks to @river-soul​ for betaing this for me. As with all of my work, if you are under 18 DNI please. If I missed any warnings please let me know!

It’s been one month since you started the job with the prosecutor's office, and although your caseload kept you busy Steve always made sure Friday nights were pizza nights. He told you he took your advice and put in for a leave of absence from The Avengers to get his head on straight. You swelled with pride knowing that a break would only help him come back a better person. On this particular Friday night, you were working late finishing up some paperwork on a domestic violence case that was going to court on Monday. You had set the victim up in a safehouse and gave her a burner cell to contact you if anything happened. It wasn’t a typical protocol for victim advocates to be that involved, but you couldn’t help feeling like something wasn’t right. As you were getting ready to leave there was a knock at your door.

“Come in,” you said while you packed up your desk.

Connor Pierce meandered into your office.

“Hey, there darling I was hoping to catch you.” 

“Connor, I told you not to call me that,” you huffed. “What can I do for you?”

“Just thought I would let you know that my client made bail,” Connor said carefully.

You stopped breathing. Connor was representing the person who left your client for dead on the sidewalk outside their apartment after she ran late with his dinner. 

“He was supposed to be in jail until the hearing. How did he make bail?” You seethed.

Connor sat in the chair in front of your desk and sighed. “I really have no idea. Off the record, I was kind of hoping he would rot in there for a few days, but I guess he has more pull than he led me to believe.”

You looked at Connor with your mouth agape. “Aren’t you supposed to be providing your clients the best representation?”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like them,” Connor smirked at you.

“Well, thanks for the heads up. Now, if you don’t mind I have to make a phone call.” 

You pulled out your phone and started to call the safehouse. Connor stood up and placed a hand over your phone. 

“It’s late, and there isn’t anything you can do. Why don’t I take you out to dinner? My treat.”

You pulled away from Connor and smiled. “It’s 5 o’clock, so not too late. Besides, I have plans tonight, which you know seeing as you ask me out every Friday and every Friday I tell you the same thing.”

He laughed and nodded his head. “You’ll go out with me eventually. I’m very persistent.”

“I’m sure you are sweetie, now if you’ll excuse me I have a phone call to make and plans to keep.”

You gestured for Connor to leave your office. Once he was gone you sent a text to your client to let her know about her husband making bail. When you left your office without a response you decided to call the safehouse.

“Hi, I’m calling about Ava Hendrix codeword: Sparrow. Her husband was released on bail and I am trying to get a hold of her.”

“Hello yes, Mrs. Hendrix left a few hours before curfew and hasn’t returned. We have been trying to get a hold of her too.”

Your stomach jumped into your throat. “Thank you. I’ll contact the authorities.”

You hung up with the safehouse and reached out to the police. Unfortunately, since there was no order of protection and Ava was an adult they were ‘unable to provide any assistance unless there was immediate danger.’ You called bullshit.

You took the steps to Steve’s apartment two at a time. When you got to his door you knocked frantically until he opened it. 

“Jeeze, doll I know you love pizza but cool it with the knocking,” Steve teased before he saw your face and his smile dropped, “What’s going on?”

You pushed past Steve into his apartment. “I can’t find one of my clients and her dickbag husband made bail.” 

You looked up and saw Bucky hovering around the counter next to the pizza. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a small curse. You had forgotten that you invited Bucky to pizza night this week to help him relax after a particularly difficult mission. Shaking your head, you turned back to Steve.

“I need to find her Steve, he almost killed her.” You started shaking and Steve pulled you into a hug, rubbing soothing circles into your back.

“Okay, we’ll find her. Buck, can you call whoever isn’t on a mission for a personal favor?”

“Sure thing Stevie,” Bucky pulled out his phone and started making calls.

“I’m ruining pizza night. I forgot I invited Bucky this week. He was supposed to be relaxing after the mission, not be thrust into a new one.” You put your head in your hands as Steve chuckled.

“Don't worry about Bucky sweetheart, he's tough he'll manage.” Steve placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, “Why don’t we take the pizza to go and drive around for a bit to see if we can spot her.”

“I would really like that Steve, thank you.”

You, Steve, and Bucky piled into Steve’s car. You had to admit you were shocked when you saw the clown car Steve drove. After effectively getting Bucky to agree to the backseat, you had to have a good view since you knew what Ava looked like, you gave Steve her old address thinking to start there. 

“Could you move your seat up?” Bucky asked as he shifted around uncomfortably.

You whipped your head around, narrowing your eyes at Bucky, “We are in the middle of searching for a woman who is in serious danger and you're worried about leg room?”

Bucky stared at you for a minute before sliding over into the middle of the backseat. You turned around and caught his smirk in the rearview mirror. Your phone chirped and you saw a text from Ava’s burner phone. You sucked in a deep breath before opening it.

“Hi, sorry to worry you. I’m fine. I’m home and Derek is going to take care of me. Thanks for your help, see you on Monday.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “Steve, drive faster. He has her.”

You heard the whirring of Bucky’s metal arm and saw the tick in Steve’s jaw as he slammed on the gas. When you got to the apartment you could hear Ava screaming and things crashing. You whipped open the car door and bolted to the apartment before Steve fully stopped the car. You jiggled the handle but it was locked. You checked under the welcome mat to see if they kept a spare key and let out a breath of relief when you saw the copper key. Quickly opening the door you saw Ava huddled on the floor bleeding over shattered glass and Derek wielding a bat.

“Hey, asshole drop the bat!” You rushed at him and Derek took a swing at you, narrowly missing your head as you ducked.

“You’re that bitch who tried to hide my wife from me. This doesn’t concern you.” He lifted the bat over his head and you braced your arms over your face before you heard the bat drop and Derek cry out in pain.

You looked up and saw him clutching his shoulder where a knife was sticking out. Turning around you saw Bucky pull another knife from his holster and Steve stalking toward Derek with fire in his eyes. You crawled over to Ava who was thankfully still awake and called 911. 

“You think it’s fun to hit women? Think it makes you a man?” Steve threw a punch and cracked Derek's nose, “How do you like getting his? Huh? Not so much fun when they’re not afraid of you?”

“Steve, stop, the police are coming and I don’t need him filing a report on you.”

Steve turned around and met your pleading eyes. He softened a bit before throwing Derek back on the ground. He came over to check you for any injuries before turning his attention to Ava. Bucky waited by the door as the sirens grew louder, twirling his knife as if to silently dare Derek to try something. Aside from a few cuts and bruises, Ava was fine. 

When the police got there they put Derek in handcuffs as his attorney arrived. You glared at Connor as you waited with Ava who was being checked out by the paramedics. After telling her you would be right back to ride with her to the hospital, you made your way over to Connor.

“Don’t think he’s making bail this time,” you spat.

“Well since he broke the conditions of his release he’s being remanded until the trial,” Connor sighed. “I told you he made bail not only because it’s my job but because I thought something bad might happen.”

You glared at Connor who gave you a soft look.“Well, I think I’d like you more if you didn’t represent such complete scum.”

“I think I’d like me more too,” Connor admitted before walking away.

You felt a hand on your shoulder as you turned around to see Steve. 

“Hey, doll, you okay?”

“I’m fine Steve. I’m really happy you and Bucky were here, who knows what would have happened if it wasn’t for you guys.” You gave him a shy smile.

“I’m glad for the opportunity for some target practice,” Bucky joked.

You laughed and gave him a hug that he tentatively returned. “You have perfect aim and you know it, Buck. I have to go get Ava to the hospital and finish my reports. Go enjoy your pizza, I’ll see you tomorrow for coffee Steve.”

You placed a kiss on Steve’s cheek and jogged back over to the ambulance. Before you were out of earshot you caught Bucky talking to Steve.

“I like her, Stevie. She reminds me of you.”

“Yeah, I like her too,” Steve said wistfully.

[lotusss-flowerbomb]

Quarantined

Bucky x reader

Warnings: Smut (duh), 18+, dubcon if you squint, so please don’t read this if it ain’t your cup of tea.

A/N: I tried so hard not to write this, but I couldn’t help myself. Definitely didn’t mean for it to be this long. Whoopsie!

Word Count: 3,217

********

You walked into your apartment and threw your bag down. The governor has officially ordered all nonessential work places to shut down for two weeks.

You walked into the living room, flopped down on the couch and kicked off your shoes. Soon after, your roommate came out of his bedroom.

"It's official, you have to deal with me all day for two weeks," you yelled out to him. "I just don't know what I'm gonna do about my half of the bills if this lasts longer than we think."

He went to the door to pick up your bag and sit it on the table. Then he came over to sit with you.

"You don't need to worry about money. I can cover the bills for... well, forever." He shrugged.

You looked at him and rolled your eyes. He knew how you felt about not pulling your weight, even though you knew he didn't need help.

As an Avenger, Bucky was paid well and definitely didn't need a roommate, but you were his best friend and when you broke up with your ex boyfriend a year ago, he insisted that you stay with him. You agreed, but stood firm on splitting the bills.

"What will I do for two weeks without work?" You sighed.

********

Day 1

You awakened to the smell of breakfast. When you walked into the kitchen, Bucky was putting powdered sugar on French toast.

"Hey, just in time," he said as he added fruit on top.

"Wow, I can't believe you made breakfast," you sat at the kitchen island.

"Just something to cheer you up," he slid your plate in front of you and took a seat.

You took a bite of the toast and closed your eyes. A moan that sounded much more sexual than you intended escaped your mouth.

Bucky paused in the middle of eating and stared over at you with wide eyes.

"Oh my goodness, this is better than any sex I could ever have."

"Is that a challenge?"

Your eyes popped open. You couldn't tell if he was serious or if he was joking, but the tone of his voice instantly brought life to your clit. You squeezed your thighs together.

"Very funny," you stuck your tongue out at him and he chuckled.

********

Day 4

You were making dinner when Bucky walked in with a few household items and the cheese you sent him out for.

"Do you know that I had to go to three different stores for toilet paper?" He huffed.

"Aw, poor baby," you tapped his nose and grabbed what you needed.

"Excuse me? Did you just boop my nose?!" He said in disbelief.

"I did."

"Woman, I am a lethal killing machine," he pulled out one of the many knives that he carries on him at all times and slammed it down on the counter top beside you. "You do not boop my nose."

You stuck the chicken in the oven after sprinkling on the cheese and turned to him completely unfazed by his antics.

"Boop, boop!" You quickly tapped him again twice before going to wash your hands.

"That's it!" He grabbed you and tickled you.

You squealed and tried to fight him off. He knew you couldn't stand to be tickled, because you snorted if you laughed too hard.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" You surrendered.

"And you promise to never ever do that again?"

"I promise!"

He stopped tickling you and helped you up.

"Your laugh is the cutest."

"You're the cutest," you blurted before thinking.

"I'm going to take a shower," he smiled, kissed your forehead and made haste down the hall.

********

Day 7

You were beginning to go stir crazy, so Bucky suggested that you go for a walk. It was a nice day, so you agreed. The streets were almost completely empty aside from a few people walking their dogs.

You went to the park and walked the path. You were talking about regular everyday stuff, making jokes and his future with the team. Then you heard the one voice that you could have gone the rest of your life without hearing.

Your ex boyfriend Joe was coming towards you holding hands with the woman he'd cheated on you with. Bucky noticed the change in your body language and followed your line of sight. He immediately grabbed your hand and pulled you closer.

The movement caught Joe’s eye and he looked up at you.

"Do you want me to break his jaw?" Bucky eyed him.

"That won't be necessary," you nudged him.

"Okay, well can I?"

"Bucky!" You nudged him again.

The closer you got the more awkward it became. You thought about turning and making a run for it, but you knew Bucky wouldn't let you.

Joe's eyes lit up and he dropped his girlfriend's hand, "Hey, Y/N!" He reached for a hug and Bucky pushed him back.

"Social distancing, bud."

"Hello, Joseph," you greeted him doing your best to hold in a laugh.

"How have you been?" He asked.

"I've been okay," you shrugged.

"Just okay? Babe, tell the truth, you've been doing more than okay. Does he know about the bakery?" Bucky chimed.

You squinted up at him. Babe? What the hell was he doing?

"Oh yeah, I'm finally going to open up my bakery, but with everything going on right now it's sort of on hold."

"Wow, that's awesome! I knew you could —" his girlfriend loudly cleared her throat. "Oh, uh this is Grace."

"Yeah, I remember," you looked her up and down.

"Are you two a couple now?" She asked looking from you to Bucky.

"No, they're just friends," Joe furrowed his brows.

"See ya, Joe," Bucky pulled you away and you didn't even bother to say goodbye. Once you were out of his earshot, Bucky said something, but your mind was reeling from the encounter.

He hooked his finger beneath your chin and kissed your lips. Your breathing hitched while you tried to catch up with what was happening.

Just as fast as your lips had met, they'd disconnected. He glanced back to see a shocked Joe still watching and pulled you along.

********

Day 10

You hadn't really spoken to Bucky since the day in the park. You avoided him after returning home and then he went on a quick recon mission with Steve.

It wasn't that you were upset with him, but you were confused. You and Bucky had been friends for years and never crossed the line, but since the start of your quarantine, the flirting has been non stop.

You took your vibrator out of the drawer. Bucky wouldn't be back for another few hours, so you had some time to get rid of a bit of this built up sexual tension. Although, masturbating for the past few days hasn't helped.

If only it was the real thing. You thought to yourself as you turned on your toy.

You pressed the tip to your clit and thought about Bucky. Those blue eyes. That dark hair. His smile.

You imagined him licking your pussy. Sucking your clit into his mouth while his fingers worked your hot wet hole.

Your pussy clenched at the thought. You put the tip of the toy at your opening, teasing yourself for a few seconds until finally pushing it in and then pulling it out to rub your slick all over your clit.

Bucky walked into the apartment. He was glad to be back as he found himself missing you much more than usual while he was away. His ears immediately perked up at the sound of your vibrator. His feet carried him down the hall to your door, he could see a small crease of light. It was cracked.

He stopped just before reaching it.

This is wrong. A violation of her privacy. He told himself. He was unable to listen to the ethical part of his brain. His erection won the battle. He stepped up and looked through the crack.

Your eyes squeezed shut. Your legs were spread wide, your panties were pushed to the side and your plump breasts rested braless. A beautiful sight to see.

He stuck his hand in his sweats and stroked himself. Wishing that he was inside of your slick pussy. He wondered who you were thinking about at this moment.

You raised your knees and slid the vibrator in and out. First slow and then fast. Your other hand worked your clit. You imagined Bucky pounding instead of you. The only thing you were missing was the weight of his body.

"Fuck, baby," you moaned.

Bucky's dick twitched at the sound of your voice. He needed you to say a name. His name.

You moved from your clit to your nipple. Rolling the pebbled flesh in circles between your fingers. You took the vibrator out and sucked it. He watched as you twirled your tongue around it and then jammed it down your throat. He felt the eruption coming.

"Wait, baby not yet."

If he hadn't been watching you he would've sworn you'd caught him. But per your request, he held back.

You put the vibrator back in your pussy and pumped furiously.

"Yes. Yes, Bucky fuck me. Fuck me just like that, baby." You screamed as you started to cum.

He also spilled his seed all over the floor when he heard his name. He watched you intently. Memorizing the movement of your body and the look on your face as you came. Shaking legs. He wanted to feel that first hand. He has for quite some time.

Your breathing was heavy, your eyes fluttering as you tried to come down from your sexual high.

Bucky tucked himself back into his sweats crept back to the front door. He opened it and shut it loudly as if he'd just gotten there.

You scrambled to put on a top when you heard the door. Hurrying to put the cover over your lower half. You pushed your recently used toy beneath your pillow, grabbed your phone and pretended to scroll social media.

Bucky knocked on your door before peeking his head in.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hey, how'd everything go?" You looked over at him.

"Good, I'm glad to be back though. Found a great recipe I wanna try tonight."

"Cool, I can't wait," you said feigning excitement.

Your heart was pounding and you hoped he wouldn't ask why. What were the odds of him coming home as soon as you orgasmed? Although, the thought of him possibly seeing you was making you wet all over again.

"Gonna take a quick shower and then get started if you want to help." Bucky had to force himself out of the room. He was getting hard again, because he could still smell your arousal in the air.

********

Day 13

In the days following Bucky watching you, the atmosphere had become filled with more sexual tension. The flirting was still heavy, but it seemed like neither of you were bold enough to make the first move.

You went to his room and knocked on the door twice. You didn't wait for a reply before walking in.

"I could've been naked in here," he said.

His hair was pulled up into a bun and he was shirtless with a pair of basketball shorts on.

"Duh, why else would I just barge in?" You leaned against the door frame and smirked.

He cut his eyes up at you and did a few more push ups before standing. There were tendrils of hair stuck to the his neck from sweat. Your eyes scanned the length of his body before looking him back in the eyes.

You cleared your throat, "Um, I was thinking about pizza tonight. Sound good?"

"Yep," he grabbed his towel and walked towards you. He put his hand on your hip and pulled you into him. "You know what I like," he kissed your neck and went to the bathroom.

You were stuck. You stood there frozen unable to move. Your throbbing pussy screamed for you to touch it.

You snapped out of it when your phone vibrated and you got a text.

No, you told yourself. Your friendship with Bucky was much too important to you to potentially fuck it up. But what if he's the one? You thought again. You convinced yourself that he isn't. This was the quarantine causing you both to act crazy.

********

You sat down on the couch with your pizza and wine next to Bucky. He hit play on the movie he'd picked.

"Is this Hercules?" You asked.

"Mmm hmm," he replied. He knew it was one of your favorite movies.

"Warning you now, I will be singing every song from start to finish."

"I'm okay with that."

By the time the movie was over, you'd finished eating and finished almost a full bottle of wine. And as promised you sang every song.

"You know," you started, "Meg and Hercules reminds me so much of us."

"How so?" He inquired.

"I was like a damsel in distress fighting some meat head until my superhero swooped in and saved me." You laced your fingers together.

He nodded, "Mm, I see."

You reached up with your free hand and turned him to face you. You ran your thumb back and forth over the stubble on his jaw.

"Thank you," you kissed his lips.

When you tried to move back he leaned in more. Pressing his lips to yours harder. You sucked his lip into your mouth and he finally disconnected from you. You stared at him for a moment.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for that," you tried to kiss him again but he stopped you.

"We should wait until you're sober, sweetheart," he advised.

"Why?" You grabbed at him.

"Because I don't want to take advantage of you. I need you thinking clearly."

"I see," you said and straddled his lap. "But what if I want you to take advantage of me?" You ran your hands down his arms to his hands.

You used his hands to push up the hem of the oversized hoodie you'd been wearing positioning them on your ass.

He threw his head back and exhaled. Battling with himself with whether or not you were clear headed enough to do this right now. You kissed his neck and his dick became hard instantly.

He was once again losing the battle.

You swirled your hips in a circle. Reveling in the feel of his erection. Something you've fantasized about for a while now.

You moved back and pulled him out. Wrapping your hand around his thick cock and pumping it slowly.

"Can I ride it, Bucky? Please?" You asked.

"We shouldn't..." He managed to get out.

You moved off of his lap and dropped to your knees in front of him.

"Y/N..."

You grabbed his dick and swirled your tongue around the tip before sucking it into your mouth. His hands gripped the couch and then he moved your hands.

That didn't stop you.

You opened your mouth wide and let his dick slide down your throat. You took all of him in until he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuccckkkk!" He yelled. Any doubt or resistance had vanished in that moment.

He put his hands in your hair and pulled you off of him, so he could stand. You quickly pulled his pants down further and sat back on your knees with your mouth open and tongue out.

He stood in front of you and stroked himself. He gripped your hair with his left hand and pulled your head back a little. He tapped the head of his dick on your tongue and then put it in your mouth.

"Look at me," he said just as your eyes started to close. He looked in your eyes as you sucked him.

You kept your breathing steady as he fucked your throat. The look of bliss on his face was making your pussy even wetter. You needed to be fucked and you needed it now.

You pushed off of him and stood. He yanked you toward him by your throat and shoved his tongue in your mouth. The kiss was loud and sloppy. Just what you needed.

You shoved him back down on the couch and then removed the hoodie revealing that shorts weren't the only thing you didn't bother to put under it.

You hovered over his pulsing length. Enjoying the way the head felt brushing your clit. You slowly impaled yourself with him. You both moaned as you sheathed his thick dick.

He grabbed on to your ass as you bounced on his dick. Your face buried in his neck as you cried out for him to fuck you harder.

"Yes, baby, give me that dick."

He grabbed your waist and drove into you so hard you had to hold on to him. The sound of your skin smacking together filled the room.

Your pussy tightened around him.

"Fuck, you keep doing that and you're gonna make me cum," he grunted.

You did it again. You were on the brink of your own orgasm. He dipped his head and sucked your nipple into his mouth. A satisfied moan left his mouth. He'd been wanting to do that since he caught you fucking yourself.

"Yes, yes, yes!!!" You exclaimed as your orgasm crashed over you.

"Shit!" Bucky yelled as he released himself inside of you.

As you stayed connected to him you could feel that his erection was going down. His dick was still pulsing inside of you.

He pulled out of you slowly and you stood on wobbly legs. He grabbed your hand before you could walk away and flipped you on to your back. He kissed your lips then your neck.

"I hope you didn't think that I was done with you?" He nipped at your bottom lip before pushing back into you.

You happily received him as you mewled with every inch he gave. He rubbed your clit with his thumb as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head.

He held on to the back of the couch with one hand and wrapped the other around your throat. He was nearing another orgasm. You could tell by the way his hips began to stutter.

"Yeah, baby, cum in this pussy again."

"You want it?"

"Yes, Bucky. I want it all. Give it to me. Please, give it to me."

Your begging was making it difficult for him to stay in control.

A deep growl left his throat, "I fucking love you, Y/N."

His words triggered your eruption.

"I love you too!" You screamed as you dug your nails into his arm.

He emptied himself inside of you again, collapsing beside you completely spent.

The room was filled with silence. Both of you thinking about what had just happened and what was said.

"Did you mean it?" You finally asked.

"I did. Did you?"

"Yes," you kissed him.

"I have another question. Was it better than the French toast?," he scooped you into his arms. You couldn’t help the snort that came along with your laugh.

You were happy this finally happened. You couldn't imagine having this moment with anyone else.

[1787americanrevnerd]

The Life of Rebecca Barnes

Sorry if the dates are wrong, I tried my best to do the math.

The Howling Commandos had finally tracked down the only living family of James Barnes. James never talked about his personal life before the war to any of the Commandos and he really only talked to Steve. And since the Barnes' family is very closed off, it was hard to find James's family to offer condolences. He had died a while ago in the Swiss Alps, the army was going to send a letter but the Commandos thought it would be better to say it in person.When they came to the small apartment in NYC and knocked on the door they were not expecting a young girl with three other kids clinging onto her. The girl had frizzy, curly, hip-length dark brown hair. The Commandos knew this was the right house because the girl had the same smile as James.

"Hello, what can I do for you?" she asked. Dum Dum spoke next, "Is it okay if we come inside we worked with James." The girl nodded and ushered them inside. "Rikki, who are these people," asked a little girl with dirty blonde hair and green eyes. "Well, Lizzy these are some of Jamie's friends." Rikki picked up Lizzy and put her on her hip. "Is Stevie coming?" The Commandos felt guilty at the question Lizzy asked, Steve died the day previous."Anyway, what brings you to my apartment?" asked Rikki. "Well we are looking for a Rebecca is she home?" said Gabe Jones. "Oh, that's me, Rikki's a nickname my stupid brother gave me when we were kids." The Commandos now felt even more saddened by the news they were about to give the Barnes family. "Could we talk in private," one of the Commandos asked Rebecca.

Rikki led them into a separate room so that they could talk privately. "So why are you at my house?" asked Rikki. The Commandos knew that they should rip the bandaid off but it's still difficult to take off the bandaid. "Rikki that's a funny nickname," said Jim trying to start a conversation. "Yeah, I would always try to annoy my brother by calling him Jamie because he didn't like to be called, and I quote, "A name meant for a girl" so I always called him Jamie. He then started to call me Rikki since it sounds like a boy's name. And it just kind of stuck.""Ms. Barnes we have some unfortunate news to tell you," said Jack. Rebecca stiffened, "Is Jamie okay?" All of the Commandos looked down and Rebecca gasped. "He died in action, we were ambushing a train in the swiss alps and your brother fell off the side. He died fighting, I'm sorry for your loss," said Gabe. "Why isn't Steve here telling me this then?" questioned Rebecca. "Steve died crashing a plane into the ice in order to save millions," explained Dum Dum. They tried to say nice things to her like, "It's okay." "They died for a greater cause" but with every word Rebecca got angrier. Rebecca stood up and wiped off her tears, " No it's not okay my brothers died! For you people, and then you start saying meaningless words to me about it. Get out, get out of my house goddamn it!" The Commandos left silently not wanting to upset Rebecca further.

Rebecca went to her siblings, "I have some bad news, Stevie and Jamie died in the war." Lizzy and Martha went quiet and Linda, who was only a baby, started to cry. Rebecca wanted to cry too, but she had to stay strong like Jamie always did.Once the kids went to bed Rebecca dropped on the floor and started crying. "We can't even bury a body," she said over and over again. Jamie was always so full of life it's hard to imagine him dead. Deep down inside Rebecca believed that he was not dead, they had always had a twin-like bond, even though there was a 3 year age difference, meaning that they always knew what the other thought and the other well-being. Rebecca Barnes hated the people responsible for her brother's death and Rebecca needed to bring them to justice.

One Year Later

Rebecca wanted to do something worthwhile and she thought joining the S.S.R. was the only way to do so. Rebecca had good grades and experience with things the S.S.R did. She had taken criminology and forensic science in school and had just finished her combat training.When she was in the office and the man put down her file her looked up at her and said, "Why should we hire you?" he asks. Rebecca thinks about it and says, " I want to make the world a safer place and-" The man cuts her off, "No, no, no, I mean why would we hire you a woman. We already have Margret." Rebecca stands up and slaps her hands on the table, "Listen here you short sexist piece of sh*t, if a man came in here with the file I have I know for a fact you would hire him. Also, it is my human right to be able to work if I want to, I'm leaving so give me a letter when you make up your mind."

As she stormed out she was cut off by Margret Carter, "I agree with what you said about the chief being a short sexist," she didn't finish her sentence being a proper lady. Rebecca however was not, "Piece of sh*t." Peggy nodded. "I know a great Diner around here would you like to go once my shift is over?" Rebecca didn't have many friends this would be good for her. "Sure I would love to."

When they went to the diner Peggy led them to a booth and she sat down. "So what's your name?" asked Peggy. Rebecca hadn't even realized that they didn't know each other's names. "Rebecca Barnes," she said simply. Peggy froze at the surname remembering someone who was lost in the war. "Peggy Carter," Peggy said thinking that Barnes was a very popular surname it could be a whole other family.

"Do you have any siblings?" Peggy asked. "I have three younger sisters, Elizabeth, Lidia, and Margret. And I ha- had one brother, James," answered Rebecca. Peggy was now sure that this is the sister of James Buchanan Barnes. "What about you do you have any siblings?" asked Rebecca in return. "Yes I also had an older brother," replied Peggy. "I'm sorry for your loss," replied Rebecca. "It's okay, it was a long time ago." Rebecca was very easy to talk to, and she wasn't like the people Peggy was usually drawn to. She was far from a proper lady, she sat like someone who was not taught proper edict, and she was wearing pants. Not pants made for women but pants that probably belonged to a man at some point. "Your pants where did you get them?" Peggy asked. "They're hand-me-downs, from my brother. Money was never tight at my house but it just made me feel more normal, you know wearing hand-me-downs like most other younger siblings. Anyway enough about me, what's your deal?"

"I have worked in the SSR for a long time and I didn't get many jobs or respect until the war when I helped with Project Rebirth. After the war, well I turned into the secretary. I want to show people that I can do just as much as a man can and that I didn't just become an Agent because there weren't enough men to do the job. Why are you here?" Rebecca knew her answer, " You might not like it or agree with it but, I want to take down the people that hurt me and so many families. I don't want anyone else's brother to die because of a war. And the only way to do that is to rid the world of insane people who want to take over the world." Peggy nodded, "Well seeing as we will be the only women in the department I look forward o filing papers with you and hopefully putting "villains" in jail." Rebecca smiled and took a sip of her water, this felt like a good thing.

2 years later

It was Rebecca's first mission, there was no one left to do it. She had to take down some drug dealers. When she got to the location something was wrong the drug dealers were there all right but there were other people there. They had the HYDRA symbol on their jackets. Oh, how stupid had we been to think that if we killed the leader that they would die she thought. She had to move closer to get a better look.

She went up in the vents in order to hear and see everything clearly. Unfortunately, the vents were not very strong and she fell from them. The drug dealers left and the HYDRA soldiers pinned her to the ground. "Let's see who you are," the soldier said as he reached for the dog tags she wore. "These say, James Barnes, you can't be him. You must be his sister but which one? Are you Martha, Lidia, or maybe Elizabeth? Wait you are in your twenty's oh yes you must be Rebecca. Your brother's favorite."

"What are you going to do to me now that I know you still exist?" she asked. "Nothing, we know that you will be too scared to tell. Now run along and don't come back. She ran back not wanting to die. But she will tell people about Hydra.

Once she was out of earshot the soldier said, "Send the Winter Soldier after her. We can't have her knowing about us, or him."

---------------------------------------------------------------------Rebecca was on a date with her boyfriend of one year, William Proctor. They had stayed at Rebecca's house since they were an interracial couple so no one would serve them at restaurants. "So how was work today?" asked William. "It was good," lied Rebecca. She still hadn't told him about her real job he thought she was working at a DMV. "You're lying, you always take a sip of your wine and look left when you lie," said William. If he wasn't catching her lie Rebecca would have thought that it was very sweet that he notices the small things about her. "It wasn't the best but, I did get to try something different. William, I don't work at the DMV, I'm working at the S.S-" at that moment a metal hand went through the wall.

It was a man dressed in what seemed to be kevlar, he had a district metal arm, and was wearing a mask. Or a muzzle, part of Rebecca thought. "Is this someone from work?" asked William sarcastically. "Yeah, I was trying to track down some drug dealers, ran into HYDRA. I guess they sent their puppet after me," she replied. The man didn't like her comment very much because he started to attack her. Rebecca blocked most of his punches until his knife cut into her right shoulder, he then pulled it down to her wrist causing a massive cut along her arm. "Rebecca are you okay?" asked William from where he was standing in the kitchen. "Yeah just throw me a wrench or a knife!" yelled Rebecca. She had an idea, it might not be great and was based on a very flimsy theory but she wanted to try nonetheless. Once, William passed her a long kitchen knife she tried to shove it into one of the slots on the metal arm. She was successful she then twisted them with great struggle though since the man was trying to kill her. William came from behind and put two more objects in the man's metal arm. By this time Rebecca had already done quite a bit of damage. Knowing that he would lose the man left. Rebecca then collapsed in William's arms.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------"So how did you really cut the entirety of your right arm?" asked Peggy. "What do you mean? I was in a car crash and I cut myself on the window," answered Rebecca. "That's absolute rubbish, you're a great driver. Also, you're a terrible liar," Peggy told her. Rebecca sighed, "A man broke into my house, probably working for the people I "met" a few days back, he cut my arm." Peggy nodded, "What did he look like maybe I know about him." Rebecca thought back to the most distinct thing about him, "He a metal arm for his left arm." Peggy's eyes widened, "People have been talking about him, civilians I mean, a man with a metal left arm comes up at least once with every political murder after the war. People started to call him the Winter Soldier, the S. S. R. has been looking into him for a while now, but nothing comes up, he's like a ghost." Rebecca smirked, "Well then it must be a miracle that I'm still alive."

2 years later

This was Rebecca's first mission since she found out she was pregnant. She and William had decided that William would stop working, he didn't like his job much anyway. Rebecca almost got fired because the S. S. R. didn't want to pay for her maternity leave. She told her boss that she wouldn't take the leave, her husband (they aren't technically married but they have known each other for three years) would be home taking care of the child. She still went on missions since she only had a small baby bump. Nothing dangerous though, just a stakeout with Peggy and Howard. She told them about HYDRA well, she told Peggy and Howard overheard. She and Howard didn't get along, he was egotistical and cocky, two traits Rebecca hated. Howard had an equal despise for her, she was too reckless, something that wasn't always a good thing.

HYDRA was loading a truck nothing too interesting until the Winter Soldier came out to help them. He doesn't have his mask on but he was far away so no point in trying to figure out who he is, thought Rebecca. "Hey he kind of looks like Barnes," pointed out Howard. "I'm right here Stark, " growled Rebecca. "No, I mean your brother," explained Howard. Peggy leaned forward and squinted her eyes, "I mean from a distance." Rebecca laughed, "Why would Jamie be working for HYDRA? Also, my brother is incredibly vain, there is no way he'd let his hair get like that!" Peggy nodded then looked at Howard, "She has a point." Howard thought for a minute, "Maybe they put his brain in a blender?" Rebecca looked sick, "Please stop." Howard did, there were only a few things Howard was afraid of, and one of them was an angry Barnes.

3 years later

Rebecca had just had her second child, Myla, and she was already worrying. Her son, James, was a tiny terror she hoped that he didn't rub off on Myla. James had skin a little darker than Rebecca's, he had Williams nose and eyes, everything else about his completion looked closer to Rebecca. Kyla had very dark skin, she also had curly brown hair like her mother, she had her grandfather's eyes, and had Rebecca's jawline. Rebecca felt bad that none of them would ever meet their Aunts and Uncles since both Rebecca and William's family did not agree with the pairing. Rebecca felt especially bad that the one Uncle who would love to meet the kids couldn't be there. She and William had bought a small three bedrooms one bathroom house, because of the new family edition. All in all, Rebecca couldn't wait for the adventures to come with her family.

12 Years Later

Peggy had brought Rebecca to a diner to talk. "I and Stark have started something, called S.H.I.E.L.D. it's basically the S. S. R. but private would you like to join us. Rebecca nodded furiously, "Of course, I've been meaning to get out of the S. S. R. and I'm sure anything you're founding has to be worth it." Peggy laughed, "So what do you say we go and hand in our letters of resignation." Rebecca got up from the table excited to have a new beginning.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------"Seriously though Stark, why haven't you found someone yet. You're almost 43, times running out," said Peggy. "Look not all of us want to get married and have kids super young like Ms. I'm Fine over there," retorted Howard. "What do you mean young? I was 29 when I had James, and 32 when I had Mayla," said Rebecca. "The point still stands and I'm in a relationship now and it's going great," states Howard. "What's her name?" asked Peggy. "Maria, speak of the devil, I have a date with her. Nice talking to you ladies." Rebecca scoffed, "Let's hope this one isn't insane."

5 Years Later

"Top of the class aye?" asked Rebecca. Mayla blushed, "Yeah which means that I can choose any job I desire." Rebecca smiled, "What do you want to do then?" Mayla looked down, "Well I already applied for a job at S.H.I.E.L.D. and they hired me so I guess that." Rebecca was a little confused as to why her daughter would go behind her back on this one. "I just didn't want people thinking I got the job because of Aunt Peggy. I'll be working in the science division so I don't want people thinking I'm just dumb and spoiled." Rebecca laughed, "No one will think that you graduated top of your class from college when you're 19."

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

That same year Anthony Stark was born, Howard was nervous. He was worried that Tony would turn out like him, Peggy worried the same thing. Rebecca tried to tell Howard that Maria was a good lady, she probably toned down the Stark genes in that kid.

21 Years Later

William had come to pick Rebecca up from work. That was when something strange happened William noticed something Peggy didn't. "Hey why have these guys neer finished their mission?" asked William. Howard went to get their files, "Maybe they forgot to check in?" Rebecca shook her head, "But all of them admit to not completing the mission. And they have outrageous reasons as to why. Who believed these guys?" Peggy went to the back of the file room and took out a few more, "They were all signed by these men, we don't have any records on them until the year 1965." William spoke up, "Maybe they are in on something together, like a rival agency type deal." Howard scoffed, "There is no way SHIELD could be infiltrated." Rebecca hit him upide the head, "Your arogence will be the end of you, Stark." Peggy shruged, "We'll look into it in the morning. Howard your son is home you should be spending time with him. Rebecca if I am not mistaken you have your grandchildren Kimberly and Scott waiting for you to teach them how to properly use a gun." They all left but none of them knew that this was the last time Howard, Peggy, and Rebecca would be in the same room together.

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

They were all invited to the funeral, even if Rebecca wasn't that close to Howard. Peggy and Rebecca sat next to Tony the whole time knowing that he needed someone to be there with him. Peggy and Rebecca were like his Aunts, they were usually at the Stark estate. Rebecca and Howard would be bickering most of the time but Rebecca was still present at the house often when Tony was a child. Everyone was telling Tony about how his father was a great man and how they were sorry that he lost his dad. However Peggy and Rebecca tod him that Howard wasn't perfect and that they were sorry he had to lose his parents but they never tried to tell him what to feel or how to think about it.

18 Years Later

Rebecca had grown old and now had great-grandchildren, but she still worked at SHIELD. She didn't work in the field anymore though, she was a therapist of sorts. One day they sat her down with a young lady with bright red hair and told Rebecca to make the girl safe to be around. They were then left alone to talk and to help this girl through whatever was going on with her."My name is Rebecca Barnes Proctor, and you are?""Natasha Romanoff.""What would you like me to call you?""...Natasha.""Well then Natasha let's get started. Why are you here?""I worked for the KGB a kind man named Clint Barton dragged me here and they told me to sit through this until I was stable enough to go into the field.""I used to be a SHIELD Agent you know, I was here when this place was first built. Now I work here, helping people like you.""...Who is that a picture of on your desk?""That was my brother, he died in the war.""I'm sorry.""It's okay he's been gone for a long time. Anyway why would people think you aren't stable?""I was a Russian Spy, they just want to make sure I'm on their side.""Do you promise not to betray us?""I wouldn't dream of it. I can't go to a prison cell, again.""Great then I will tell themyou are stable as long as you come help me watch over my great grandchildren every Thursday.""I will Mrs. Proctor.""Oh please, call me Rebecca.""Thanks Rebecca."

1 Year Later

"You seem quiet today Natasha is something wrong?""It's nothing I just got out of the Hospital that's all.""What were you there for?""A man with a metal arm shot someone through me.""So I see you've met the Winter Soldier.""The Winter who?"The Winter Soldier, he's an assassin.""Why haven't I heard of him?""He's like a ghost no one can track him and every file we have of himis erased gone. You see this scar he gave me it."Natasha looked at the scar, "Looks like it hurt." Rebecca sighed, "It did for a long time, but what's done is done. Be careful Natasha." Natasha smiled, "I always am."8 Years Later"Rebecca!" called Natasha, "I brought some company for you!" Rebecca smiled, "I'm in the kitchen." She was trying to complete the crossword when she saw Natasha. "Hello, dear I'mso glad you found time to visit me." Natasha looked at the other visitors, "Guys this is Rebecca, she's a few years younger than Steve. And Rebecca this is Sam-" Rebecca inturpterd her, "Stevie! Why haven't you visited me since you came back from the ice?" Steve looked dumbstruck, "I thought you would be dead or you wouldn't remember me." Rebecca wacked him upside the head, "That was easier to do when you where shorter but this will have to do. How dare you think me dead! And I'm not that old, this brain's still ticking!"

Bucky was behind the wall he didn't really know who this lady was and he wasn't sure she would be happy to have a murderer in her house. He noticed something on her left arm then, a scar going down it. Bucky remembered that, he did it to the young women who was trying to have dinner with her boyfriend, then he tried to kill her. Bucky stepped out of the shadows to say he was sorry for hurting her all those years ago when the women hugged him. She started saying, "Jamie, I knew you were alive! Everyone said that you were dead but I knew deep down that you were alive!" Natasha smiled, that was the first time Bucky had ever seen her smile. "As I was about to say, this is Rebecca Barnes Proctor," said Natasha. When the name was said Bucky started to remember her, he would call her Rikki. Bucky hugged her back, "Long time no see Rikki." Rebecca looked at Bucky's arm, "I know what you did and I forgive you."

1 Year Later

Rebecca died peacefully in her sleep a few months after seeing Bucky again. Evryone said that since she saw him her heart had been ready to go, knowing that he was alive. Others said that she missed her friends and loved ones. Whichever you choose to belive just remember that Rebecca Barnes lived an amazing life.

[musecharm-writes]

Bad Influence, Pt 3 (Steve Harrington X Reader)

Summary: A couple of days after your first day at Melvald’s, you tell Joyce about something that’s been bothering you; Steve gets help with his crush from a couple of friends.

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Over the days following your first shift, things get much easier. You’ve almost totally forgotten the exchange with Harrington and his friend. You might be able to completely, if it weren’t for their extremely obvious attempts to spy on you.

You think they’re under the impression that they’re being very sneaky, which means they probably don’t know that you’ve already caught on, but it also makes you feel a little sad that this is the best they can do.

You elect to do your best to ignore it; a nosy jerk and his little pal aren’t gonna get to you, not when things are finally starting to go your way.

“You’re cleaning that counter a little forcefully, there,” Joyce observes, carrying a box past you. When she emerges from storage, she asks, “Something on your mind?”

You consider the question. You stop scrubbing the counter like it’s done something to offend you and lean against it, the rag still under your hand. “Nothing. Just thinking about the meeting with Chief Hopper.”

Joyce walks over to a nearby shelf with an inventory checklist on a clipboard. “Uh huh. Okay. So what’s really bothering you?”

You purse your lips. Putting the rag and lemon scented Pledge you were using to clean under the counter, you follow Joyce over to the shelves, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“Steve Harrington’s friend and some kid have been following me,” you confess softly. “Every time I’ve left to go home for the past three days, I’ve caught them trying to spy on me. They’re probably gonna do it again today.”

Joyce looks genuinely concerned. “Steve’s friend? Who, what’s their name?”

You shrug. “Some girl. She was in here with him the other day, I think he called her Bucky?”

Joyce’s eyebrows shoot up toward her hairline. “ Buckley ? Robin Buckley?” She gestures with one hand to indicate a height of about five and a half feet. “This tall? Short brown hair?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s her.”

Joyce has a look of growing suspicion and confusion on her face. She lowers her clipboard to put one hand on her hip. “What did the kid look like?”

You frown as you try to remember. “Uh… a little shorter than that Robin girl, with curly hair, I think. At least, from what I could tell; he was wearing a hat.”

Joyce nods slowly. “...I think I know who we’re dealing with.” She looks you directly in the eye, and says, “Do you want me to tell them to leave you alone?”

You think about saying yes, just for a second. Then, you shake your head. “I’ll tell them to stop if it really starts to bother me. They haven’t realised it yet, but they suck at spying.”

Joyce laughs. “Okay, but if you change your mind, lemme know, and I’ll rough ‘em up for ya.” She smiles playfully, and you can’t help but laugh at the image of Joyce Byers fighting two children for bothering you.

“...Thank you, Joyce,” you say softly.

She gives you an odd look. “For what?”

“For… I dunno. For not being too hard on me, even though you were the one who caught me… doing what I did.”

She sighs, looking around to double check you’re still the only two in the store. “I won’t get into it too much since we’re still working right now, but… I used to be a bit of a wild child myself. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt. Plus,” she gives you a little nudge with her elbow, “Hop likes you. That counts for something in my book.”

You smile at her. “I guess it does.”

--

“You WHAT?”

Dustin and Robin look pleased with themselves, despite the fact that Steve is filled with a murderous rage.

“We’ve been following your crush to make sure the two of you would be compatible,” Dustin repeats. “To be honest, I don’t think you’re cool enough to land this one, but Robin seems to think you have a chance, so I’m gonna go with it.”

Steve points a finger angrily, about to defend himself and his infinite coolness, and then closes his mouth and folds his arms. “I don’t have to signify that with a response.”

Robin chimes in with, “I think you mean ‘dignify,’ genius,” which really doesn’t help their case with the whole ‘Steve-is-incredibly-angry-at-them’ thing.

He throws his hands up, frustrated. “Whatever, who cares! Why have you been following a person who I have zero chance of ever being in a relationship with to find out if we could date? That’s weird! And probably invasive, I think! Which means it’s also creepy!” He stalls out as he realises the possibility that you may have noticed his dunderhead friends creeping on you. “You haven’t been noticed, right?”

Dustin blows a disbelieving raspberry. “Psh! Please, you’re kidding, right? I think if we were able to successfully spy on a bunch of Russian soldiers without getting caught, we can do this, no problem.”

Robin smiles triumphantly. “Yeah, Harrington. Have a little more faith in our abilities.”

Steve shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. He prays that they’re telling the truth; otherwise, he senses some major embarrassment in his future.

Steve sighs, resigned. “Fine. Fine . I’ll let you two keep playing secret agent on my behalf. But if you get caught, lie your asses off about what you were doing, okay?”

They both promise not to put Steve in any more hot water with you than he already is, but it doesn’t fully lay his fears to rest.

“Oh, hey! You should come with us this time! We can fill you in on everything we’ve learned so far, and then you can watch the wild crush in its natural habitat,” Dustin says.

Steve frowns. “I dunno… Sounds like a bad idea.”

“No, I think it’ll be good. That way, if we do get caught, we can say it was all your idea,” Robin jokes. (Or at least, Steve hopes she’s joking.)

Which is how they all end up hiding behind Steve’s car, across the street from Melvald’s, waiting for your shift to end.

When the time finally comes and you’re walking out the door, they have to communicate via hurried whispers in order to coordinate their movements. Steve thanks their lucky stars that you’d walked to work that day.

They follow you down the street away from downtown. In the moments when it seems you’re about to turn around and catch them or you’re waiting to cross the street, they duck into alleys or alcoves, dive behind cars, or hide behind other people. Steve hates to admit it, even only to himself, but he sort of enjoys the exhilaration of sneaking around. He’d forgotten how much he enjoys it.

At the corner of 12th and Oak, after hiding behind a parked car, Dustin hisses, “Shit.”

Steve immediately snaps to attention. “Shit? What do you mean, shit? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know where--”

“Hey.”

Robin, Steve, and Dustin all yell in surprise, whirling around to find you standing behind them. You have your hands in your pockets, a rucksack over one shoulder, and a bland expression.

“...Hi,” Dustin says awkwardly. He looks around for a moment, apparently noticing for the first time the ramifications of his and Robin’s actions. “Uh, we can explain--”

You hold up a hand. “Don’t bother,” you point at Steve. “You had them,” you point at Robin and Dustin, “follow me, for who knows why and honestly who fucking cares. Please stop. You’re not great at stalking people.”

Ouch. Okay. Well, there’s a hard truth.

“Sorry,” Dustin says, looking genuinely dejected. Steve isn’t sure whether it’s because he upset you or because you said he’s bad at spying.

Your face twitches, like you’re trying to maintain your vaguely stern expression, and then it crumbles, and you sigh. “It’s okay. I’m not really that mad about it since you guys aren’t really bugging me that much, but just…” You run a hand through your hair. “Look, please stop following me around, okay? It’s weird, and a little creepy. I don’t know why you were doing it, nor do I want to know, nor do I really care. I’m just kind of over the weird shit.”

Robin and Dustin share a look before nodding, and Steve says, “Don’t look at me, I got roped into this at the last minute.”

You look confused, but you nod back. “Okay. Cool. Bye, then.”

You go around them and start to walk away, but before you can make it to the crosswalk, Dustin calls out, “WAIT!”

You turn to look back, one eyebrow raised in a silent question.

Dustin says the last thing Steve wanted to hear him say. “Can Steve get your number?”

Steve’s entire face feels like it’s gonna melt off. He’s absolutely going to run away and change his name; this is just too goddamn embarrassing.

Then, you do something that shocks Steve to his core: you laugh. It’s a full, rich laugh, and it makes his heart pound so hard he thinks for a second he might be having a heart attack -- but, like, for real.

And then , you say, “Damn, kid, you have a lot of guts. Sure,” you swing your bag off your shoulder and root around in one of the pockets before emerging with a pen and a small notebook. You scribble your name and number down before ripping the page off and handing it not to Dustin, but to Steve, who feels like he might combust.

“I get home at one o’clock every day for the next two weeks,” you say, with a crooked smile. “Call me any time after that.”

Steve nods, dumbfounded, and you turn on your heel and saunter away.

“Holy shit,” Robin says, laughing, as soon as you’re out of earshot. “I cannot believe that that somehow worked in your favour. You are either the luckiest guy in the world or more pathetic than I originally thought.”

Steve pays her no mind. Instead, he’s desperately trying to remember if there are any rules about when to call once you get the phone number. Do you wait a day, or call that night? Or maybe you wait longer than a day? Or do you wait for them to call you? Wait, shit, he didn’t give you his number. 

Why didn’t he give you his number?

“Steve, I can practically hear you panicking. Calm down, it’ll be fine,” Dustin says.

Steve’s head whips around. He stares at Robin and Dustin, considering his options, and then realising that his only other options are Nancy and Jonathan.

“I need you guys to help me land a date,” Steve says.

--

You spend a couple of hours at home doing nothing in particular. You read a couple pages of a book you pull at random off the shelf, but you can’t concentrate on it, so you turn on the TV and start channel surfing.

All the while, you’re also trying to pretend you aren’t waiting for the phone to ring.

You gave Steve Harrington your number. If you’re being honest, you think you may be  panicking a little, but you don’t really mind the idea of him calling you so much as you mind the fear that this is some kind of joke.

A part of you is very, very afraid that it’s a joke.

You sigh, putting the remote down and stretching out on the couch. You gave him your number; all there is to do now is wait for him to do the rest. No use stressing over it since it’s out of your hands.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. As the hours tick by -- as you make yourself dinner and put some in the fridge for your mom, as you watch a movie with your feet up on the coffee table and a bowl of ice cream in your lap -- you start to lose hope that Harrington ever planned on calling you at all.

Then the phone rings, and you almost drop your ice cream jumping up to get it.

“Hello?” You say casually, proud of the fact that you don’t sound out of breath from running to the phone.

On the other side, Steve Harrington says your name.

“Y-Yeah,” you say, and then clear your throat. “That’s me!”

“Cool, cool,” he says. “So, hey, uh… I was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime?”

You chuckle. “Wow. That’s a little forward of you, isn’t it?” You’re thankful that he can’t see you blush through the phone.

“Oh. Is--Is that bad?”

You smile, a little charmed despite yourself. “Nah. I’ll give you brownie points for it, if you want.”

“Oh! Sure. I, uh, I love… brownies,” he finishes on a bit of a low note, so you decide to throw him a line.

“You wanted to hang out, Steve?”

“Y...Yeah. Yeah. Uh, if you want. I just… Wanted to give us the chance to get to know each other. Like, under the right circumstances, y’know?”

You hesitate for a moment. You have a feeling that he’s got more in mind than the arcade; after a bit of thought, you admit to yourself that you’re at least curious about where this goes.

“Sure,” you reply. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll meet you at your place at… seven on Friday night? If that’s cool with you, obviously. No pressure, y’know.” He sounds a little nervous, and you can’t help but feel for him a little. Poor guy’s clearly out of his depth.

“Yeah, Steve. That sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

It’s not until after you’ve given him your address and hung up that it hits you: you might, potentially, have a date with Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington, who saw you get arrested.

Great.

[slowly-writing]

Liver Failure

Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader

Avengers x Kid!Reader

Requested by: Anonymous

Word count: 1463

“Any fun plans tonight?” Steve asks as he walks into the living room and you shake your head, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders.

“Nope. I’m dead tired and do not plan on leaving this couch anytime in the foreseeable future,” you say and he shakes his head with a chuckle.

“What about for dinner? It’s in 20 minutes,” he says and you glance at the clock.

“Oh wow. I didn’t realize how late it was getting. I’ll be there,” you promise. He nods before walking back towards the kitchen.  

xxxxx

“You doing alright, kid?” Tony asks and you look up from your plate.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m just not very hungry,” you push your food around a bit more and Clint sighs.

“C’mon Romanoff. Nathaniel eats more than that,” he teases lightly but you just shrug, getting up to leave.

“I said I wasn’t hungry,” you mumble and Steve grabs your arm as you try to walk by him. You flinch and he furrows his brow.

“Did that hurt? I didn’t think I grabbed you too hard,” he says and pushes your sleeve up, revealing the bruising on your arm.

“Woah, what happened?” Tony almost yells as everyone stands to get a closer look.

“That wasn’t there this morning, was it?” Bruce asks, eyes wide as he takes in the dark purple mark covering your entire forearm.

“I’m fine! I just bumped into the door jam at school earlier. I don’t need you guys babying me all the time!” you yell, shrugging them off and walking to your room.

“What’s going on with her?” Clint says softly once you’re out of earshot.

“Maybe she’s sick? Should we call Nat or something?” Bruce asks but Steve shakes his head.

“We can handle this. We’ll let the kid sleep for now. Nat should be back from her mission in the morning and then she can take over,” Steve says and the others nod.

xxxxx

“Hey Nat! You’re home early, how’d the mission go?” Clint calls, speaking quickly, and your mom narrows her eyes.

“You’re nervous that I’m back. You did something you think is gonna piss me off, and there’s only one thing that could get me angry enough to be scared. So where is my daughter, Barton?” Natasha asks in a low voice.

“Damn she’s good,” Tony mumbles under his breath.

“She’s in bed,” Steve explains before Natasha can be bothered to punch Tony for avoiding the question.

“She’s in bed? It’s nine thirty on a Friday night,” she says glancing at her watch.

“She wasn’t feeling well. She got pretty upset when we tried to help her so we figured we’d let her sleep it off until you were home,” Bruce explains and Natasha nods.

“Okay. Thanks guys, I’m gonna go check on her,” she says before walking off towards your room.

When the door to your bedroom opens you groan and curl further in on yourself before complaining verbally, “I told you guys to leave me alone.”

“Hey, love. I know you’re not feeling well. Tell me what’s going on,” your mom says softly, sitting on the edge of your bed and brushing the hair out of your face.

“I’m just tired. I’m really achy and my stomach hurts,” you explain softly and she nods.

“Anything else?” she says. You shake your head but before your point can settle you’re jumping out of bed and running to the bathroom. When your mom catches up to you her eyes go wide. “Friday call the team in here!”

“What’s going on?” Tony asks as he runs in.

“We need to get to the hospital. Now.” your mom says, helping you up as Steve comes over to your other side.

“Holy shit. Why does her skin look like that? She’s like���yellow! It wasn’t like that at dinner, was it?” Clint asks frantically.

“It’s jaundice. Something is going on with her liver. No, she did not look like that at dinner,” Bruce explains, taking deep breaths, trying to keep calm.

“Mom? What’s going on?” you mumble into her shoulder as she helps you into the car.

“I don’t know yet, babe. But we’re gonna go get you checked out and everything will be fine. I promise.”

xxxxx

“It seems your daughter is experiencing acute liver failure, Ms Romanoff. Have you noticed any symptoms over the last few days?” The doctor asks.

“No. I’ve been out of town,” she says softly, she can’t help but feel a little helpless. “I just got home, she said she was sore and tired then all the sudden she started throwing up blood. I hadn’t noticed, cause the lights in her room were off, but her skin was yellow too, so I brought her straight here.”

“She was really tired this afternoon. She had no interest in dinner and had this intense bruising on her arm that came out of nowhere,” Steve adds in, glancing to your sleeping form on the hospital bed.

“We need to run a few more tests, and she’ll need surgery. We’ll know more then,” the doctor explains before leaving the room.

“She’s gonna be okay, Nat,” Clint places a hand on her shoulder as she sits next to your bed.

“And you’re not alone, through any of this,” Tony promises softly.

xxxxx

You don't wake up before the doctors come back and your family decides it best to let you sleep until after surgery. Natasha places a kiss on your head, whispering an “I love you” before they wheel you away.

The next time you open your eyes you’re back in a hospital room and you can see the sun coming in through the windows. You glance over to where your mom is sleeping in the chair next to you. She must feel your eyes on her because she wakes up moments later, a smile spreading across her face.

“Hey love. How are you feeling?” she asks softly and you shrug.

“I don’t know yet. What happened?” you mumble and she laughs at your sleepy answer.

“You’ve got some liver problems going on. You had to have surgery when we got here,” she explains.

“How long ago was that?”

“Three days. You took a nice long nap after surgery,” she tries to play it off lightly, but you’re not a little kid anymore. You can see the tears gathering in her eyes. Before you get the chance to respond a doctor walks into the room.

“Miss Romanoff! I’m glad to see you’re awake. You’ve had quite the team of visitors keeping you company over the past few days,” he says and you smile, looking around at your family still asleep on the various chairs and couches in your room. People often get intimidated by them. It’s not everyday a bunch of superheroes show up somewhere, but to you they’re just a bunch of softies.

“What’s wrong with me?” you ask and he smiles sadly.

“Well the good news is the surgery went well. You have what’s called autoimmune hepatitis, it’s what caused your liver to fail. Your immune system started attacking your liver and it caused quite a few issues. We caught it in time and we’re optimistic that we’ll be able to control it with the right medications. You’ll have to stay here for a little bit so we can monitor you while we sort out what works best for your body, but hopefully you’ll be able to go home in a week or two. Does that make sense?” he asks, pausing to give you time to process it all.

“I think I get it. So I just have to lay here for a few days until you figure me out?” You ask and you can hear your mom laughing next to you.

“That’s pretty much it. I’ll do all the work and you get the perfect excuse to miss a few weeks of school,” he winks at you and you smile.

“Sounds like a pretty good deal!”

“It is, isn’t it? I’ll let you get some more rest, let the nurses know if you need anything,” he says before quietly leaving the room. As if on cue, the rest of the people in the room start waking up as he walks out.

“Hey look who’s up,” Clint says with a smile and you laugh.

“Are you feeling okay?” Bruce asks next.

“Yeah. I’m just tired still. Thanks for staying with me,” you say and they all smile.

“We’re family, kid. We stick together,” Steve says.

“Plus your mom was losing it. We had to make sure she didn’t have a breakdown,” Tony teases and your mom rolls her eyes.

“I was not losing it. But I was worried, and I’m glad you’re feeling better,” she says and you nod.

“I’m doing great.”

tag list: @rvgrsbrns @rororo06 @freerebel @prizmix-and-friends @m19friend @worlds-in-words @5aftermidnight @riotmaximoff

[boy-blu3]

Just Trust Me.

Author: nerdymoose

Pairing: Peter x Avenger!Reader

Warnings: Minimal angst...

Summary: Who knew that it only took one moment for Peter's feelings to change towards you...

A/N: This is pretty short. The idea came to me one night so I decided to write it. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! Please don't steal my work!! I hope you enjoy!! (♥ω♥*)

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

Being an Avenger had its ups, and it also had its downs. Just being able to say that you’re an Avenger is unimaginable, but actually being one can be quite overwhelming. The standards are so high and you have to meet every single one of them. If you’re not there to save someone when they get robbed or jumped by people it’s suddenly your fault. Every bad thing that happens in the city is suddenly your fault, and the hate you receive can sometimes be unbearable. But that’s not the worst of it, risking your life everyday is stressful, and of course police officers do it every day, but they’ve never known what it’s like facing something non-human…

Especially being a teenager and having to go through all of that, like Spiderman. He has a family, friends, something to go back to when he needs it. Not like Y/n, she didn’t have anything to turn back to or confide in. She wished and hoped that she could find something like Spiderman, and she did. She found Spiderman. She couldn’t begin to tell you how she met him or how she became part of the Avengers. It all happened too quickly, like a flick of a switch. Her life turned upside down, but she still couldn’t tell if it was for better or worse.

She currently was sitting on the ground in a dirty, abandoned lab. She was panting like a mad dog, her feet ached, she had a deep gash on her right arm, which hadn't stopped bleeding. Peter sat beside her, not doing any better than she was. “Do you think we lost them?” He asked, breathlessly. He poked his head through the small window on the door, not seeing or hearing anything, he sat back down, a small painful groan leaving his lips.

She shook her head, looking towards him instinctively checking him for wounds. “They’ll find us eventually, which means we don’t have much time to get to the others.” Despite her words she didn’t get up, it seemed like an invisible force was keeping her body on the ground.

She watched as Peter got up from the ground, holding a hand out to her. She took it, he pulled her up, making sure she didn’t use her arm much. That’s when they heard it, the heavy footsteps of the guards, their armour shaking every step they took. The two made eye contact, you could see the fear in both their eyes, even through Peter’s mask. He put his finger up to his lips, silently shushing her, she nodded.

They both looked around the room, searching for another way out, there was none, no windows, no vents. They were stuck. But a plan started forming in Y/n’s head, one thing she saw in this wrecked lab was plants. She grabbed Peter by his arm, pulling him to the back of the room, in a relatively dark corner. She motioned for Peter to sit, but he stayed standing. He gave her a confused look, “just trust me.” She pleaded. He had seemed to relax a little, nodding before sitting down.

Peter let out a shaky breath when he heard the footsteps getting closer, the sound of doors slamming opened complemented the sound. The sounds were getting so close and so loud that Peter had to cover his ears for a brief moment, it was a sound that would haunt his dreams for years to come.

From the top of the desk he could see vines build some sort of wall in front of the door. He watched as they weaved through each other, the sight was beautiful and terrifying at the same time. The vines had thorns that looked like they could pierce through any surface, but they were so green and healthy that you wanted to reach out and touch them.

She looked down at him and smiled before the door burst open. They both could hear a couple of confused grumbles before they started to fight through the vines, slowly breaking through them. Peter stood up, “Um- Y/n t-they’re getting through.” He stuttered.

“I know, Pete. Thanks for pointing out the obvious. I got this.” The vines fall to the ground, cut and shredded into pieces. Peter visibly gulps, but his worries soon drift away when vines wrap around the guards from head to toe. Their screams of pain being silenced by the plants, as the vines squeeze tighter like a snake. The vines let go, their lifeless bodies falling to the floor.

“Holy-” Y/n tugs his hand, quickly walking to the door, wanting nothing more than to get out of there. He follows reluctantly, watching her in awe as she rushes down the halls, never letting go of his hand.

Peter felt this warm feeling in his chest, kind of like someone was suffocating him but in a good way. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way, for a moment he thought he was sick or something. But then he realized that whenever he looked away from her the feeling went away. Peter had always thought Y/n was beautiful, but way out of his league. He didn’t really spend too much time with her to really get to know her, but he liked the way she carried herself and also that she understood and laughed at every bad science pun he made.

She sighed once she found the others, she waved at them and even from a distance she could see Tony let out a relieved sigh. "Are you guys okay?" Tony asked once they were in earshot.

Y/n nodded, still not letting go of Peter's hand. "Yeah for the most part…" She looked at Peter, her eyebrows furrowing at his dazed state. She snapped her fingers in front of his face, pulling him away from his thoughts. "You okay, Pete?"

He nods, "y-yeah, totally, perfectly fine." She giggled at his stuttering and Peter swears he couldn't breathe for a second at the sound, it becoming like his new favorite song.

She let go of his hand, he instantly missed her warmth. He wanted to reach out for her hand again, but quickly shot the idea down, having to force his hand by his side. "Let's get out of here, I'm really starting to hate this place." He grumbled.

He noticed how Y/n bit her bottom lip, nodding while looking up at Tony. She ran a hand through her hair, getting it out of her face.

They all walked outside, watching as the jet landed in front of them, Happy standing at the door. Y/n and Peter quickly rushed inside and sat down, Peter pulled off his mask, taking a few deep breaths. Y/n rested her head on a window, admiring him. She blushed once he caught her staring, quickly shifting her gaze out the window.

The jet was still empty, everyone talking outside. Peter looked at her, he didn't know what came over him, maybe it was the small bit of adrenaline still in his system but before he could stop himself he was speaking. "Hey Y/n?..." She looked at him, "I was wondering, since we're both in the same age group, we're Avengers and we'll be working together a lot. Maybe I should get to know you better, so I was thinking- maybe- um- you and I could-"

"Spit it out, Pete." She sat up, smiling.

"Maybe I could take you out sometime. It's totally up to you, if you don't want to you don't have to-" She giggled, interrupting him.

"I would love to, Peter. Just give me a time and place." She smiled, making Peter smile.

"Really?" She nodded, leaning over to him and kissing his cheek before resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. His smile widened, beaming at her.

Everyone walked in, all eyes falling on the two. Tony turned to Steve, "You owe me twenty bucks." Steve groaned, rolling his eyes.

"You bet on us?"

[living-dead-parker]

Casino - P.P

Summary: Peter and reader have a special mission. Also, the team thinks reader has a thing for Tony and vice versa.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader, Tony Stark x Avenger!Reader (platonic!)

Warnings: age gaps, gambling, alcohol, clowning on Tony too much, honestly not compliant with any canon at this point, 

Word Count: 2.2k

"Target is in position," you state as you keep an eye on the target. A smirk is quickly placed on your lips once he turns to look in your direction. He smirks right back at you before turning back to his game at hand. "P has approached the game table," you continue speaking and you turn towards one of the cameras, seeing it follow your line of sight towards the poker table. "I'm going in."

With that, you walk towards the Craps table, two drinks in your hand. You notice the target looking over at you as you walk over. If he wasn't such a piece of shit, you'd find him attractive. A silver fox with black roots, a trimmed beard, an all-black suit, and piercing green eyes. It looks like he smells of expensive cologne too. You, however, have your own silver fox back at the compound, so who are you to look around?

"Is Y/N really drooling over this old man?" Natasha asks as she watches the feed, turning to look at the others in the room.

"I mean, she's always flirting with Tony," Steve pipes up, a chuckle escaping Natasha’s lips.

"Constantly barking up the wrong tree, if you ask me," Tony chimes in, stepping in with a fresh mug of coffee. "It's flattering but Peter can actually keep up with her without bones cracking and all," he jokes.

Meanwhile, back in Las Vegas, at the MGM Grand Casino, you finally approach Peter, handing him a drink. Peter looks up at you, a smile on his lips as he takes his drink from you. Coincidentally, it's Peter's turn. So, Peter takes the chance, holding his hand up to you, the dice in his fist. Slowly, you bend down a little, locking eyes with the man as you blow into Peter's fist. Then, Peter rolls.

The game lasts a good half hour before Peter and the target are neck to neck and then. You finally decide to play your part. "Baby," you call out to Peter, just loud enough for the guy to listen. "I'm getting tired," you whine.

"It's a close one, doll," Peter responds, pretending to focus on the game more than you. However, it's taken Peter a great deal not to just walk away from the mission and take you back to the room. "Just a few more minutes, yeah baby girl?"

You roll your eyes, sighing loudly. "I'm going back to the room, good luck on your silly game," you whine as you glare at Peter. Then, you take the time to mouth over to the man, a simple, 'follow me.'

Peter just shrugs, letting you go off on your own with no more than a simple bye. You're still within earshot when you hear the man call it quits at the end of his turn. So, you speed up a bit, keeping the guy on his toes to follow you. At the exit of the casino, where it leads to the hotel, you pause to look at your phone, seeing the man fast approaching.

"What's a beauty like you doing all alone?" the man asks you, beginning to saunter over towards you. He pulls out a Cuban, lighting it as he wraps his lips around it. You smile at him, pretending to fawn over him. Though, it's not too hard when you get a good look at him.

"My fiance doesn't seem to want to come back to bed with me," you state, looking around before giving the man all your attention. "It gets pretty lonely when he's like this," you state, denying the Cuban when the man offers it to you. You make sure to pop your chest out a bit, show a little more leg, straighten out a bit. He bites his lip as he takes in every inch of you. "Sometimes, I think he likes money better than he likes me."

"Got a name, sweetie?" he asks before taking another drag of the cigar.

"Candace," you state. "Candace Smith, Candy for short," you add.

"Robert Paine," he states, holding a hand out. You take it, shaking it. "Now, Candy, are you as sweet as your name?"

You giggle, stepping closer to the man. You rest a hand on his chest, wrapping the other over his shoulder. You bend a leg over the other, standing rather seductively. "I can be," you tell him, peering up at him through your lashes. "Unless you're looking for something else," you add as you grab his arms and wrap them around you. "But I can be whatever you want me to be, daddy."

The man smiles, grabbing your hand. "I have a room here too," he states as he leads you over to the elevator. You see Peter approaching not too far away. "The question is, mine or yours?"

"Well, my fiance is here," you state, holding a finger up in a shushing motion. "So let's go to yours."

Steve and Natasha laugh, Sam and Bucky lose it when they look over at Tony. "You're missing out Anthony," Sam manages to say through gut-wrenching laughs. "She's a dirty girl and you're just pushing her into spider baby's arms."

Tony rolls his eyes, rubbing at his temples. "Oh shut it," he states as they all watch you make out with the guy in the elevator, Peter standing in the other alone. "She's just messing with us all, she loves Parker," Tony states.

"Either way, Tones," Natasha states. "You're missing out," she jokes. They all know your flirtation is playful since you do it to everyone. Hell, you've hit on Vision before and Wanda laughs it off. So, nobody takes your flirtation seriously, except Peter. Because he really likes you. Especially when you flirt with Tony because it sounds so real.

"Oh, baby," the man groans as you press yourself against him. Once in his room, you pretend to lock it behind you, moving along with him. Everything from that point goes by fast. You're on the bed, hair a mess, lipstick a mess. The door bursts open, FBI agents entering the room, Peter trailing behind you. The guy glares at you, yelling out insults as he gets taken away.

Then, the calm arrives. By now, Tony and the gang know to switch off. You've done your part and that's it. However, they watch from a nearby camera that you and Peter stand alone in the man's room, both looking at each other. The mic on your bracelet is still on, and they all decide to eavesdrop to see if one of you finally makes a move.

"God, thank you for coming in as soon as you did," you speak up, throwing yourself on the bed tiredly. Peter chuckles, sitting down next to you, placing a hand on your knee supportively. "Any longer and I was going to have to have sex with the man," Peter bursts into laughter, smacking your knee. You look up at him, a playful glare evident. "What?"

"So, you're not into old men?" Peter asks through giggles, turning to get a better look at you. You sigh, falling back onto the bed.

"Not that one," you state jokingly. "God, it was like kissing a fish, I was putting in work," you state. "Like, come on, you'd think he'd at least peck back every so often, but no!"

"Y/N, the guy's a serial arsonist and fraud, I think his lack of kissing skills is the least of his terrible traits," Peter states.

"Yeah, well," you respond jokingly. "He looked great, but he was terrible."

Peter hums, looking down at his hands. "So, are you into old men?"

"Oh my god," you groan as you reach over for a pillow. You throw it, but Peter catches it in no time. "Curse your spidey sense, let me hit you with a pillow!"

"Not even," he responds defensively. "Your reflection on the window, I can see you," he states, pointing at the window. This causes both of you to burst into full belly laughs. Back at the compound, all the others watch fondly as your laughter resembles that of an extremely happy child. It's contagious.

"I have a thing for hot people," you state matter of factly. "Age doesn't matter, so long as it's legal," you continue. "I literally don't care, if I find an eighteen year old attractive or a 90-year-old. If they're hot, I will want to climb them like a fucking tree," you state.

"So, Tony?" Peter asks.

"Tony's hot, yeah," you state as you shrug. "But he's not 'climb him like a tree, on my knees begging for it' hot," you continue. "Like, if he were to ask me if I'd give it up for a night, no doubt about it, I'd let him. But I wouldn't like beg or thirst over it, I wouldn't let it happen more than once, I wouldn't think about it like every night. Just a casual one-time thing would be enough for me. However, that fact that I like someone close to him plays a big role in me not being so into him."

"But you flirt with him a lot," Peter adds.

"I flirt with everyone, but I don't want to have sex with them all," you state. "Unless everyone was willing to try, like, a team orgy thing as a team-building exercise," you say, which earns another deep belly laugh from Peter. "But in all seriousness, I like someone and I want them. Not Tony, not anybody else."

Peter's silent for a few seconds, but he turns to look at you. His body is turned towards you, legs crossed in front of him, sitting criss-cross. "And who's that?"

You sit up, looking up at him. He gulps, watching you as you lean closer to him. "You're such an oblivious fool, Parker," you state. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. "But that's why I like you so much, I guess."

With that, you close the gap between the two of you, your lips connecting with his. His hands move to your hips as he kisses back. Back at the compound, everyone is cheering. Money is being traded between friends, and Tony is happy. It's the entire reason he set you both up on this mission.

However, they grow concerned when they see things getting heated.

"Oh no!" Sam and Bucky yell when they see you get on top of Peter, grinding your hips down onto him. However, you pull away.

"Let's take this back to our room?" you ask as you stand up. "I'm not trying to have sex on some rando's hotel room."

Peter nods, standing up and leading you out of the room. With that, Tony and the others stop eavesdropping, getting all they needed for the night. So, they turn off your mic, they stop watching through the camera, and they exit the room.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Tony," Steve jokes. Tony glares, ignoring the man.

"Yeah yeah," Tony states. "At least I had a chance, I've never heard Y/N say that she would go down on Captain America."

Steve laughs, walking away towards the elevator with everyone else. Tony joins them, all going to different floors.

When morning comes around, the team watches you and Peter walk into the kitchen. Smiles placed on your lips as you both walk over to the coffee maker. Tony, Nat, Steve, Sam, and Bucky all smirk at each other, knowing about the two.

"Hey, you're back!" Natasha speaks up, earning Wanda, Vision, Bruce, and Thor's attention as well. "How was the mission?"

You and Peter nod, looking over at each other. Smiles tug at your lips and the team that knew has to hold back from laughing. "It was fine," you state simply as you take a sip of the coffee you poured yourself. "Took the target down, gambled some of Tony's money, drank a little. Fun, overall."

"Spent Tony's money, huh?" Steve asks as he looks over at the man. Tony rolls his eyes. Everyone spends his money.

"Yup," you state, shrugging your shoulders. "What kind of sugar baby would I be if I didn't spend my sugar daddy's money," you joke as you send a wink to Tony. Peter chuckles, grabbing a mug of his own. "Anyways, I'm tired, so I'm gonna go lie down," you state.

"Yeah, me too," Peter chimes in, setting his mug down and ultimately forgetting about it. "See you guys later," he adds.

"Hey, wait," Tony speaks up. You and Peter turn around, looking over at Tony. "No babies," he states, making you and Peter get flustered. "And also, I need at least one flirty comment a day, it keeps me feeling good about myself. You're welcome that I finally got you two together after all this time."

You giggle, grabbing Peter's hand gently. There's no use in hiding it at this point. If Tony knows, everyone knows. That's just the way it is round here.

"You got it, sir," you state. "Can I just say, you ass looks just as great as Peter's," you say, hitting on two at once. "Now I'm really tired from running away about any and every gay thought I've had about all of you, so see y'all later," you add, hitting on everyone all at once. Then, you pull Peter out with you.

"Damn, I still gotta compete with everyone?"

"Everyone deserves to feel nice about themselves," you state. "Just when I flirt with you, it's because I want to get in your pants and because I really like you. I flirt with everyone else to be nice."

Send in feedback, requests, asks, or just come talk to me!!

[howardpotts]

Sweet, Sugar, Candyman

Pairing: Bucky x Reader x Steve

Summary: Reader performs Candyman and knows how to persuade the two men to join her on stage. She makes it one hell of a show, one that Bucky and Steve can’t forget. Bucky takes her to his bedroom, Steve joins quickly after.

Warnings: Smut (Male receiving, female receiving, vaginal sex, anal sex, M/M and F/M), roughness? As in; someone is going to be a bit demanding. ;)

A/N: Oh my god. My first threesome. I feel like I can finally say that I wrote some filthy smut. Oh, also, thanks @cametobuyplums @thamuddagirl @tranquil--heart for all the thirsty conversations that inspired this fic.

Do not read this if you are under 18.

Nervously you check yourself one last time in the mirror. Waved long hair, thick red lips, contoured face, navy tight dress. It was your typical 40’s look, or at least, that’s what you tried. You had to, to make your performance in front of the New York SHIELD Agents and Avengers an absolute success.

“Y/N, fifteen seconds”, someone informed you. You nodded firmly, hands lowering your dress one last time. This is it. Now or never.

“Now, give her a big applause…. Y/N!” The sound was muffled. Adrenaline rushed through your body, maybe even more than it did on mission. Missions you were familiar with, performing in front of a live audience you’re not.

Quickly you find your place, a big smile on your face, hands on your hips. The moment the beat started playing, the curtains disappeared and the crowd cheered. They have never seen you like this. The only version of you they ever saw was serious and to the point. Sure you liked a joke, most of the times you enjoyed a dark one better than the innocent ones.

“Before we start”, you begin, wiggling your eyebrows. “I need two strong men.” You smirk while you search the crowd, a few hands are in the air. Some jokingly, some serious. A chuckle leaves your mouth as you take a few steps forward. You spot Steve and Bucky in the crowd. Gotcha.

“Preferably two who have been around in the 40’s.” Your eyes never leave them, there’s no escaping now. Both look wide-eyed, not expecting this kind of sudden attention. The crowd cheers. Steve tries to get out of it, waving his hand and mouthing ‘no thanks’, but Bucky is already on his way to the stage.

Natasha helps you, pushing Steve in to the right direction until he gives in himself.

You greet Bucky when he climbs up. As a real gentleman, he kisses the back of your hand, looking in your eyes playfully. You lead him to one of the two chairs that are on the stage.

When Steve gets up, he looks embarrassed and slightly irritated. “Why?” is the first thing he asks you. You just shake your head, refusing to give him an answer and lead him to the other empty chair on the stage.

“Now, be a good Captain and stay seated please”, you whisper close to his ears.

You move to the center again. Your hips start flicking up and down while your hands are holding them. With a playful smile you watch the audience, nervous magically disappeared the minute you saw the crowd, excitement has taken over.

“Tarzan and Jane were swingin’ on a vine”, it scolds through the room, a male voice starting the song. The microphone is close to your mouth. “Candyman, candyman.”

“Sippin’ from a bottle of Vodka double wine.” One last look to the crowd with one eyebrow up. “Sweet, sugar, candyman.”

And you turn around to face the two men, who are maybe three feet apart from each other. The music takes on and you walk toward them, swaying your hips from left to right. Their attention is on you, curiosity beaming in their eyes.

You first turn to Bucky, since it felt like he was most sure of himself, Steve really needed to be eased into this song. You hovered over Bucky, laying your hand on his cheek softly. “I met out for diner on a Friday night”, you start, getting your hand back again and twirling around his chair.

“He really had me workin’ up an appetite. He had tattoos up and down his arm. There’s nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm. He’s a one stop shop, makes the panties drop-“

Bucky couldn’t be more surprised. He never saw you out of work and he most definitely never considered you.. this. One who can work the crowd, make them whistle while you walk past. He was blown away by your moves and touches, mentally trying to keep his head on the stage.

You laid a hand on his shoulder, which made his head flick up to you. You gave him a quick wink before lowering yourself, still moving your hips from one side to the other. The moment you’re finally at his height, you quirk up again, hand leaving his arm.

“He took me to the Spider Club on Hollywood and Vine. We drank champagne and we danced all night. We shook the paparazzi for a big surprise. The gossip tonight will be tomorrow’s headline-“

It was Steve’s turn. He looked up at you. His shyness was lost, he decided he better just get it over with. He gave you a little smirk as if he wanted you to know it’s okay to do the same as you did with Bucky.

And so you did. You stood behind him, your hand slowly going from his chest to his collarbone, but not any further than that. You made sure of that, not wanting to make them feel overtouched. Slowly you creeped your hand back to his should and then left again, walking around his chair and stopping again in the middle between the two guys.

“He’s a one stop shop, make my cherry pop. He’s a sweet talking, sugar-coated, candyman.”

The crowd cheered. Natasha and Tony having the times of their lives seeing those two supersoldiers in such.. public position. But also, they were very much enjoying your performance. You sang like an angel, not one note off. Your moves were smooth, but not overly done to make you look cheap. It was an overall classy and well rehearsed performance.

_____________________

With the same looks you walk into the crowd, pretty satisfied with the performance you just had. A bit nervous for what Steve and Bucky had to say. They didn’t know that they would be called on stage and you’re not sure if they’d be happy about it. But you had to do it. It was like this song was made for them.

“That was one hell of show, girl. I loved it.” Natasha squeezed your upper arm softly while smirking. She was the only one who knew that the supersoldiers would be asked to come on stage. You thank her, but also eye Bucky and Steve. When being called on stage, Bucky didn’t seem to mind, but Steve was a different story. He had to be convinced by Nat before deciding not to demonstrate and just go with it.

“You really know how to surprise these old folks, eh?” Bucky smiled widely as he grabbed Steve’s shoulder. You grinned, shrugging your shoulders.

“I hope I didn’t cross any boundaries”, you say innocently, batting your eyelashes with it. Bucky presses his lips together.

“You’re a good performer”, Steve says, his smile a little less wide. It made you a little uncomfortable, as if he only says it to be nice in public, only to give you a speech when you’re alone.

Nat grabs both of your shoulders and tugs you away from the two men, which takes you by surprise. A confusing ‘hmm’ leaves your lips, but Natasha isn’t answering. When they’re both out of earshot, she finally starts talking.

“I’m not trying to… interfere”, she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “But I think you got both men quite worked up.”

Your eyes grow big. “Worked up? Like? Pissed?” Your cheeks start to slowly get more colour.

“Oh my god, no. Are you blind? I mean.. They like the view of you all – how do they say it? – dolled up.” Now you’re of officially blushing. The temperature rises, but you’re far from uncomfortable. Instead, how bad it may be, there’s even a little spark starting to exist in your belly, slowly making its way down to your most sensitive spot.

“What? No, they’re probably just nice”, you try to swat it off, but Natasha just gives you a small wink before returning to the supersoldiers, where Tony has joined them. He gives you a thumbs up, but you’re too busy in your head, thinking of all the things they could do to you.

You never thought about it. Sure, you thought about maybe them, you’re not blind. They’re like two gods. But it never occurred to you that they might actually be interested in you, just an ordinary agent.

_____________________

You sip from your gin tonic while looking at people, they’re dancing and laughing. A little content smile is on your face, realizing that your performance went well and now you can enjoy the night without having to think about a single mission.

“Can I have a beer?”, you hear from your right. He takes a seat next to you, scooting a little closer and now also brushing your arm with his.

“Don’t you love this?”, he asks. You look at him, but he’s still looking at the crowd. “The dancing, the laughing, sipping beer. In a strange way, this reminds me of the 40’s.”

“Yeah, it’s lovely to have an evening where you don’t have to worry about anything”, you smile, looking into his piercing blue eyes, brown hair tugged behind his ears. “Don’t have to think about the missions. Where back in the day, you don’t have to worry about..”

“War”, he finished your sentenced. You didn’t want to finish it, knowing damn well it might still sting, even after so many years. You smile in embarrassment and add a quick ‘yeah’.

“It is, yeah, in a way.” Again, he scoots closer, now obviously touching your arm, hand brushing yours. His pink intertwines with yours as he finally looks at you. Again, red creeps into your cheeks and neck, no way of hiding it.

“Look, doll, I’m going to be honest”, he sighs, voice lower than when he started the conversation. His words made your blood run faster. “What you did on that stage - You look like a real betty and if you feel just as warm as I do, I suggest we go to the elevator and continue the party with just the two of us.”

You do feel warm. No, correction, you feel hot. Your teeth catch your lower lip as you watch him. His eyes are pleading, watching how you figure out what to say without sounding like you’ve planned this.

Instead of saying something, you just nod, still holding your lip between your teeth. He grins, standing up immediately, smoothly passing the crowd and walking to the elevator. You follow, trying not to smile. It’s a desperate attempt so no one will notice what you and Bucky are planning on doing.

When the elevator opens, you both get in quickly. Bucky presses the closing button impatiently, slowly showing how desperate he really is. You chuckle, which he notices.

As soon as the door shuts, he pushes you against the wall, lips on yours. It’s a needy kiss, a bit sloppy as well. Your hands are around his neck in a second, pulling him even closer.

You’d lie if you didn’t think of this while preparing for your performance. It’s a fantasy you thought of, but also put away quickly, since the odds of it happening seemed very small to you. But here you are, kissing one of the two soldiers you desperately wanted in your bed.

When the elevator dings again he stumbles backwards, grabbing your hand while watching you hungrily. You giggle while walking to his apartment, excited for what’s about to come.

When inside, he slams the door, pushing you to it again. “Fuck, I can’t wait to rip this off.” His voice is low, hands roaming your dress, pulling at some of the fabric.

His lips devour your neck, teeth nibbling slightly at the same time. You throw your head back, a small moan coming out of your mouth. “Then do it. Rip it”, you sigh, encouraging Bucky to take it to the next step. He looks at you for reassurance, not sure if you really wanted this dress to be unwearable. But your eyes are closed, waiting for your body to be exposed.

With little effort he rips the seams apart, slowly showing your lace black bra and matching panties, dress somewhere tossed in the room. His hands are on your breast in an instant, squeezing them as if he never wanted something so desperately in his life. A low growl leaving his mouth with it.

He lifts you, your legs wrapping around his thighs. A bit clumsy he stumbled to the bed, almost falling over a pair of shoes that were tossed somewhere in the living room. He wasn’t the cleanest person of the Avengers, but you knew that before this little adventure.

“You planned this, didn’t you? You wanted us to go crazy, to fuck your brains out.” All this time he had a mischievious smirk on his face. “Did you want me? Or Stevie?”

You keep your mouth shut, not knowing what to answer. Your bottom lip is between your teeth again, probably betraying your answer. “Answer me, babygirl.” There’s a slight warning in his voice.

He throws you on the bed. You want to crawl backwards, but he doesn’t allow it. Instead, he grabs you by the ankles and turns you around. “I said answer me.”

God you were loving this, how he handled you roughly. You wondered how far he’d go without you answering. You wondered what he was going to do about the fact that you didn’t say a word. And so, you stayed silent, only a giggle leaving your mouth.

“Oh, so that’s how you wanna play, huh?” You feel the mattrass dip, two seconds after, you feel his hand hitting your ass hard, the sound filling the room. A small hiss passes your lips, but your walls are fluttering. You were practically dripping already and he didn’t even do that much.

Another spank on your cheek has you whimpering. “Bucky please-” “Answer me”, he orders. You want to answer but you can’t, words strangled with each other.

Another slap forces the answer out of you, almost screaming it at him. “Both!”

He stops entirely. Oh shit. Wrong answer?

“Both? You want both of us?” You turn around, facing him while innocently nodding your head. You expect to see confusion on his face, but instead, you see a playful grin.

He grabs his phone out of his pocket and starts texting. “Uh? Bucky?”, your voice is unsure, even a little bit insecure. He doesn’t look up for another few seconds before laying it down and climbing further on the bed, his face close to yours.

“It might be your lucky day.” The words send shivers down your spine. Out of excitement you kiss him, hands in his hair, but he breaks the kiss again. “But don’t count yourself lucky yet, doll. I’m not sure if he’ll come.”

You nod and bat your eyelashes innocently. “Well”, you say, voice more girly than usual. “In the meantime, Sarge, let me give you a good time.”

His eyes darkened, definitely enjoying the name you just called him. He throws himself at you again, his flesh hand dissapearing to your back to release your bra.

You quickly rid yourself of it, exposing your breasts to him. He licks his lips at the sight of it, eyes blown with lust. His metal hand squeezes one of your tits, flicking a nipple in between moves. His mouth find the other nipple while he sucks carefully.

God it feels so good. He makes you feel so good. As much as you want him to move further, you promised him that you were going to give him a good time. And so, you push him off you.

He lays down on the mattress as he pulls his shirt over his head. No time to appreciate the work of art in front of you. You work on the belt, his hardend cock clearly visible as you try to get his pants off as quick as possible.

When you finally push it down, you automatically pull his boxers with it. His cock springs free. Pre cum is dripping off his red head. His cock is thick and you suddenly feel worried if your mouth fits around it.

You look at him in the eyes, shock probably visible all over your face as he chuckles. “Just take as much as you can, babydoll.”

He softly brushes your hair to encourage you. You stick out your tongue and lick down his shaft and back to the tip, where you lick away all the pre cum. Slowly you take him in your mouth, jaws hurting from the stretch.

You start bobbing your head, each time taking him deeper, your mouth opening up and taking him in. Your right hand takes the parts your mouth can’t reach, your left hand is cupping his balls.

He grunts, his hand fisting your hair. “Fuck, yes, like that baby, taking my cock real good.” The words encourage you, your tongue pressing against his vein. His hips buck, his cock hitting the back of your throat, making you gag in a reflex.

You don’t stop. You ignore your own reflexes as you keep trying to speed things up.

“Shit, fuck, god you feel-” His words are cut off by a knock on the door. You stop your movement, eyes gliding to his as his cock leaves your mouth. A big grin spreads across his face.

“Looks like we’ve got company. Why don’t you go look?”

You reach with your hand to your mouth to wipe off the pre cum and saliva, but Bucky grabs your wrist, shaking his head.

“Yes, Sarge”, you say with a little tremble in your voice. This is not happening, right? Is it really Steve who’s behind that door? Did they do this more often? Or is Bucky just messing with you?

You peek through the little hole in the door. Your legs weaken when you see the handsome blonde on the other side. Arms crossed, showing every muscle through the blouse. A feeling of vulnerability taking over. You’re naked and you looked like mess - like a whore.

With trembling hands you open the door, your body still hiding behind it in case someone else walks by. A little shy smile is on your face, but so is on Steve’s. The same one he had when you wanted him on stage. The only difference is the glint of lust in his eyes.

“Uh, come in.” It’s more of a question than an invitation, but he gets in anyway.

When the door shuts, he looks at you completely, eyes scanning your body. God, you couldn’t have felt more exposed right now.

“Steve? You there?” Bucky called from the other room.

“Yes, give me a minute Buck”, he called back, hands going through his hair. Give him a minute?

“God, you’re a real treasure.” He takes a step forward, closing the space between the two of you. He can probably tell how uncertain you are. His hands are now on your body. One in your neck, the other one on your thigh.

He presses his body against yours. Your heart felt like it could jump out of your body any minute now and you’re sure that he had to feel it as well.

“Looks like Bucky already had some fun with you”, he grinned as his put a strand of hair behind your ear. All innocence and shyness was lost as he yanked at your hair, your head falling back. “Think you can give it to me too?”

You nod, but just as Bucky, he wanted words. He pulled a bit harder at your hair. “Can you?”

“Yes”, you answer. He sighed, eyes breaking contact for less than a second.

“Yes what?”, he threatens. His grip tightening even more on your hip. That’s definitely going to be a bruise tomorrow.

“Yes, Captain”, you whisper. Finally he was satisfied with the answer and let you go. He walked toward Bucky’s bedroom, but not before he gripped your wrist and pulled you with him.

As you walk in to the bedroom, you see Bucky slowly moving his hand over his cock, grinning when Steve walks in. Steve gave a smirk in return. Even though you’re a bit confused with what’s happening, you get yourself together in two seconds.

You remembered the words of the Captain. Think you can give it to me too? With that in mind, you stand before him and start unbuttoning his jeans. Steve looks surprised, a smile he can’t hide.

“What are you doing, babygirl?” Steve sounds amused.

“You asked me, right?”, you grin. He lets you do your work as you peel off his jeans - boxer followers soon after. You look up, meeting his eyes. You feel a hand going through your hair.

“Sarge, you gonna watch?” Steve’s still looking at you. You bat your eyelashes at him before taking the first look at his cock. It’s already rock-hard and just as thick - maybe even thicker - as Buckys.

“Yeah, I’m gonna enjoy the show”, you hear from the other side of the room. The bed squeaks, but you don’t pay attention to what’s happening behind you. Your attention is focused on Steve’s cock.

You lick the pre cum off quickly, which makes Steve already grunt low. You press back a smile and open your mouth instead, taking his head in. A little ‘fuck’ comes from Steves mouth.

You take him in further until you feel your gag-reflexes showing up again. Slowly you start bobbing, Steves cock twitching from the good feeling you’re giving him. You can feel that Steve’s different, not as willingly as Bucky is. Not as desperate.

“Fuck- Y/N, hold still for me”, Steve growls. You stop, cock still in your mouth, saliva slowly dripping from your mouth to your chin and on the floor. But you’re pretty sure that your mouth is not the only thing dripping from wetness.

“Be a fucking good girl and stay like this.” It’s his last warning before he starts fucking your mouth himself. He’s panting, growling, grunting. But he’s not the only one. Someone close behind you is also softly moaning.

Steve’s cock triggers your reflexes, making you choke multiple times, but he doesn’t stop. If all, it’s a turn on for him.

“Buck, Sarge, fuck- Come here”, Steve commands. You start to realize that it’s not Bucky who’s in charge here. It’s Steve. And by the looks of it, they’ve done this more than once.

“Gladly”, you hear, making you squirm already. What’s going to happen?

You look at Steve and he’s still looking at you, still fucking his cock in your mouth. He pushes a bit further, which makes you moan around his cock and that results in a hard groan from Steve.

“Good girl”, he says before tearing his eyes away from you and to the other hot soldier. His hands let go of your head again and pulls back, releasing his cock from your mouth.

He crashes his lips Bucky’s, something you didn’t expect, but boy did you like it. This was definitely not the first time. Hell, it looks like they did this every fucking day.

You crawl away from the two of them. Now it’s your time to enjoy the show. They get pretty into it, touching and groping each other. Bucky’s quickly moaning into Steve’s mouth as Steve grabs his cock.

You feel a new heat going through your body. You’re not sure what’s hotter: the fact that they’re practically jerking each other off in front of you, or that Bucky went from dominant to obedient in seconds. Or maybe even the fact that this is a regular thing.

All things together made you squirm, it made you desperate for some pressure down there. And since those two were so into each other, you had no other option than to just start yourself.

You place yourself on the bed, panties lost somewhere on the way. Your finger finds your clit quickly as you watch. Steve’s big hand around Bucky’s cock and Bucky’s metal hand around Steve’s. God, their bodies must be created by angels. Every inch of them is perfectly muscled and tanned.

A small moan leaves your mouth, which caught their attention. Bucky looks surprised, unsure on how Steve will react, but Steve’s just chuckling. “Enjoying it, babygirl?”

You nod. “Yes, Captain. Very much.”

He grins, but quickly focusses on Bucky again. “Why don’t you take over from her, Sarge? Replace those fingers with your tongue.”

You swallow hard at his words, but you don’t stop fingering. Bucky walks towards you, cock jumping with every step he takes. He gives you a playful wink before getting on his knees, hands widening your knees. “Fuck, Cap, look at that.”

You want to remove your fingers, but Bucky gives you a quick warning to keep going. And so you do.

Steve slowly strokes his cock, watching you pleasure yourself. Both men are actually watching you finger yourself. A little whine comes out of your mouth. “Please Sarge, I want your mouth”, you beg, too worked up to feel ashamed.

“Come on, Buck, do as she says. She deserves it”, Steve says. God how much you want to kiss him for saying that. As you were to open your mouth to thank him, Bucky yanks your fingers out of the way and dives his tongue in there, ripping a loud moan out of you.

He circles around your clit, making 8-figures with his tongue. His lips join, gently nibbling at your clit. You’re slowly drifted to the edge, but Bucky knows how to speed that up if he decides it’s time to press a digit into your pussy.

Steve sits next to you and watches Bucky eat you out. Eyes full of lust. You watch him, taking him all in. It’s so fucking sexy that he’s taking charge. How he brought some new energy to this room.

A second finger is being added into your pussy as Bucky pumps in and out of you. You’re a whimpering mess under him, begging him to keep going, to never stop.

“How does she taste, Buck?”, Steve asks. You’re almost whining when Bucky removes his tongue to answer Steve.

“She’s a fucking five star menu. Want a taste?”

Steve grins at the answer. “Move”, is the only thing he says. Bucky smirks and moves, dropping himself next to you. His metal hand squeezing your breast, the other one supporting him to stay on his side.

Another moan rips out of you, from the deepest of your lungs. “Ahhhh, fuck- Steve, fuck yes, feels so good! I’m so close, so close-”

He quickly starts pumping in and out of you with his fingers too, three are now in you, aiming for your release. He curls them, tipping you over the edge. Toes curling, back arching, head in the pillow. You scream both their names. Steve, Bucky, Steve, Steve, Bucky, Bucky.

“Want to be fucked, babygirl?”, Bucky asks if Steve gets his mouth and fingers away from you. “Want our cocks in your pussy?”

You look at him with pleading eyes as you nod. If you talk now, you’re sure it’d sound as weak as a trapped prey.

Steve hovers over you, cock immediately pressuring your overstimulated clit again. “Answer him, doll.” His voice is dark, low and so fucking hot.

“Yes, Sarge. I want your cocks. Both of them. Please, fuck me.” You feel dizzy. You need it, your pussy is begging for it. You need someone to fuck you.

Steve decides to tease you first, his tip teasing your entrance. You buck up, trying to get more of his cock in you. Bucky sees and pinches your nipple a little harder, making you moan. It’s pleasuring but painful at the same time.

“Gotta have patience, babygirl. If you’re a good girl for us, we will let you come.” Steve smiles darkly at you. You know he means it and you’re not willing to risk anything and so you lay still. You barely even dare to breath. You want to cum around his cock.

But he pulls back. You want to whine but decide to be smarter than that. Be a good girl and you get to come.

“Sarge, open her up nicely for me”, he says as he pulls back.

Bucky now quickly gets between your knees. He decides that you’ve been teased enough and pushes directly in you without warning. It’s painful but bearable.

He sets a pace that has your eyes rolled back into your head. Slamming in to you as if he’s been waiting for years.

“F-f-fuck.” It’s all you manage to say.

Steve’s grabbing some lube and puts it on his cock while he watches how Bucky destroys you. You poke your feet in his back, steading yourself since you have a feeling what’s coming. You don’t want to come before the fun has even started.

As Steve takes place behind Bucky, you bite onto his shoulder, trying not to scream out of pleasure.

Bucky’s pace falters. Steve’s probably working him put with his fingers, teasing his hole. A high-pitched moan now coming from Bucky’s mouth.

Steve works him up quickly, adding one finger first, but adding a second one after a few seconds.

After adding a bit more lube on his cock, Steve slowly pushes into Bucky, who pushes into you. All three of you moan. Steve begins setting a pace, a low growl coming out of his mouth. Buckys cock is settling deeper and deeper with each thrust. You can feel his cock twitching.

You’re the first one who says something and you hope you’re not getting punished for it. You can’t get punished for it. You won’t be able to handle it.

“Fuck. S-Steve, Capt-tain, S-Sarge. I- I’m c-coming.” It’s a miracle that those words were formed in your brain, that’s how great it felt.

As his cock hits your sensitive spot, you’re done for. There’s no sound coming out of your mouth. Your walls clamping on to Bucky’s cock. You scratch his back as you stare from Bucky to Steve, who are both watching you come undone.

Bucky’s now the one who’s close. You can feel it, he’s so close, cock twitching with every push from Steve.

“S-Stevie. I’m not g-gonna last.”

Steve’s pace gets slower, his eyebrows quirk up. “Who am I?”

Bucky has his eyes closed, probably too focused on not coming into your pussy.  “Captain!”, he yells. Steve reacts immediately and slams into Bucky, pace faster than before. And that’s all Bucky needs to be driven over the edge.

You moan too, your oversensitive pussy being completely devoured as they keep pushing into you. Bucky’s seed is painting your walls, his fingers clamping the sheets.

Steve’s still lasting. You’re not sure how he does it, but you think it’s the serum. He stops pumping into Bucky and frees his cock again.

“Go rest, Sarge. I need to finish”, he says. Your cheeks were red from stimulation, but his words made you blush. He needed you for his own pleasure.

Steve’s in between your legs. “Want my cock, huh?”

You nod. “Yes, please, Captain.” As ashamed you should be for wanting another orgasm, your shame has left you long ago.

The captain doesn’t show mercy and slams into you, making you squeal. Skin is slapping on skin, balls bouncing against your hole.

“Fuck, you’re such a naughty girl, taking our cocks.” His words help you to another orgasms. It rips out of you so easily as if it’s your first. You moan, walls now clamping to Steve’s cock.

He groans, pace sloppy. Warm seed fills you, Steve’s forehead against yours. His whole body is shaking as he comes. It’s so hot, but you’re all out of energy to feel anything anymore.

Steve slides out of you, head resting on your breasts for a second before rolling next to you. You watch him for a second before turning your head to Bucky.

He gets a towel and some water. They both take care of you and clean you up. It’s like they switched in two seconds. From demanding to soft.

“Uh, so, sorry for your dress”, Bucky says when you’re all cleaned up. You’re underneath a blanket, no spare clothing to wear.

You chuckle. “I asked for it”, you wink. Steve laughs lowly as he pulls you closer. It’s a nice warm feeling. It’s safe, you feel safe.

“I have a few questions”, you say, eyeing the both of them. Steve only looks at you, waiting for the questions to come. Bucky halts you, cutting you off before you can even start.

“That’s very nice, doll. But those questions can wait. Me and Steve’ve been watching you for a while. Wanna safe those questions for a date?”

_____

Tags:

@cametobuyplums @thamuddagirl @tranquil--heart @buckmesideways22 @stuck-y-together @buckysthot

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Peggysous Week Day Three: Tulip

Read on Ao3 @fandomsandxfiles-writes

Tulip: Perfect, enduring love between partners or family members, undying passionate love, royalty and a regal nature, the 11th wedding anniversary, abundance, prosperity, and indulgence.

***

One of the first things Steve does upon moving to D.C. is finally follow up on one of the first pieces of information SHIELD gave him when he came out of the ice. Find Peggy Carter. He gets some help from an unexpected source.

Steve glaces down at the piece of paper in his hands before squinting up at the writing on the edge of the old building. 

This must be it. 

Shoving the piece of paper back into his pocket, Steve takes a deep breath and walks up the steps, passing by a young woman who gives him a warm smile on his way in. The inside feels…strange. Almost like trying to peer through syrup. The walls are a butterscotch color, interrupted here and there with little vases of flowers. The reception desk is a block of white in the middle of the floor. Steve walks up and waits for the woman in the tortoise shell glasses to look up. 

“Oh.” She smiles. “Hello, dear. Haven’t seen you here before.”

“Yeah, I uh,” Steve says, “just moved in across town.”

“Ah.” The woman leans on her elbows. “And how are you liking the city so far, dear?”

Steve makes a so-so gesture with his hand. The woman laughs. 

“Yes, well, she’ll grow on you.” She winks at him and produces a clipboard. “Now, because you’re new here, we’re going to have to do this the long way, if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

“Lovely.” The woman taps a few keys on her computer and grabs a pen. “Now, who are you visiting today?”

“Carter. Margaret?”

“Oh, old Peg.” The woman smiles as she scribbles something down. “She’s a pistol.”

I’ll bet she is. 

“And what did you say your name was?”

“Steve.”

The woman’s hand freezes. She looks up slowly, the friendly warmth in her eyes slowly turning to ice. She sets aside the clipboard and glowers at him. 

“Now young man, I don’t know what you think you’re doing here,” she growls, Steve almost taking a step back at the ferocity of her tone, “but—“

“Hey!”

They look around to see an older man coming toward them. He makes his way around another group going out the door, pointing accusingly at Steve with his crutch. 

This was a terrible idea, I should leave—

“I thought I told you to wait for me.”

Steve blinks. The woman behind the counter falters. 

“Daniel? You know this man?”

The other man—Daniel, it seems—comes to a halt beside Steve, giving him a look that clearly says ‘play along,’ before smiling at the woman fixing her glasses. 

“He’s a relative from outta town,” Daniel says easily, clapping Steve once on the arm, “said I’d take him to see Peggy. Now, young man,” he continues, turning to fake glare at Steve, “I did tell you to wait for me, didn’t I?”

Steve hangs his head, hiding a smile. “You did. Sorry.”

“No need for apologies, son, just, you know.” Daniel waves at the receptionist. “Don’t go frightening old Linda here.”

“I’m terribly sorry, Daniel,” Linda says, giving Steve one more look, “we’ll get you sorted when you’re done with your visit, alright?”

“Thank you, Linda.” 


Steve nods when he gets a sharp poke from the crutch. He looks over to see Daniel with a shit-eating grin. “Thank her, young man.”


“Thank you,” Steve repeats. 

“Now, how is Peggy today?”

“She’s talking, she remembers.” Linda passes them a key. “It’s a good day.”

“That’s good.” Daniel glances at Steve. “Can’t have you seeing her for the first time and not have it be one, right?”

Steve nods, still trying to figure out what the hell is going on here. 

“Well, you tell your wife I said hello, won’t you?”

Ah. 

“Will do.” Daniel beckons to Steve. “Come on, young man.”

The second they’re down one of the other corridors, out of earshot from the nurses, Daniel takes Steve’s arm and hustles him down the right corridor. 

“So,” he says, stepping back to look Steve up and down, “Steve Rogers, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” Steve says automatically. “Uh, thanks for that, back there, I, uh, think Linda thought I was lying.”

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.” Daniel waves him off when he bristles instinctively. “No, no, none of that. Peg’s still sharp enough to recognize the real deal.”

Daniel holds out a hand. “Daniel Sousa.”

“Steve Rogers.”

“Nice to meet you, young man.”

Steve laughs as they shake hands. “You loved every minute of that, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did,” Daniel smiles, “plus, it’s true.”

Steve narrows his eyes. “Oh, yeah?”

“Your birthday is July 4th 1918, isn’t it?”

Steve nods. Daniel lays a hand flat on his chest. 

“And yours truly was born March 21st, 1918.”

Steve throws his head back and laughs. “Alright, you got me.”

“Of course, young man.”

“That’s not going away anytime soon, is it?”

“No.” Daniel gestures down the hall. “Now come on, let’s go see Peggy.”

Peggy’s room is, well, it looks like a room in a nursing home. The only things that make it Peggy’s are the photos on the dresser and the medals over the window. And, of course…

“Daniel Sousa, you get your bloody arse over here and tell me why you’re late.”

“Sorry, Peg,” Daniel says, taking a seat in the chair and leaning his crutch against the side, “bad traffic.”

Peggy scoffs, turning her head against the pillow. “I’m sure.”

“It was!”

“You’re no better than Jarvis was.”


“Well, in fairness to Jarvis, it was his job to drive everyone around.”

“Yes, and he was very good at it.”

“Are you…insulting my driving?”

“No, I’m simply saying the larger population could’ve benefited from lessons.”

Steve smiles. They look good together. He can see the playfulness in their gazes, hear it in their voices. He can see the tenderness in the way they reach for each others’ hands. He can see the warmth in the air around them. 

“I’ve got a surprise for you, Peggy,” Daniel says softly, “you’ll like it.”

“Oh?”

Daniel turns around, motions for Steve to come closer. Steve does, walking hesitantly until Peggy’s face comes into view just over Daniel’s shoulder. 

Peggy’s face goes slack, staring at him. Then it contorts and Steve’s heart clenches. 

“You,” Peggy declares regally, “are late.”

Steve laughs in relief, face breaking out into a smile. “Sorry, Peggy. I, uh—“

“Refused to give me your bloody coordinates like a drama queen.”

Steve rubs the back of his head sheepishly. “…yeah.”

Peggy rolls her eyes fondly and beckons him closer. “Come here. I want to see you.”

Steve glances around, spots another chair, and sets it next to Daniel’s at Peggy’s direction. She takes his hand, still strong after all these years. 

And, strangely enough, Steve doesn’t feel out of place. 

He’d thought that when he woke up, he’d thought that when he walked inside the nursing home. He’d thought that when he was watching Daniel sit next to Peggy. 

And yet, here, now, it doesn’t feel out of place. He glances over at Daniel who just smiles warmly at him. 

It feels…right. 

“So,” Steve says finally, looking back at Peggy, “I’m sure you’ve got stories.”

“And how,” Daniel mutters, holding up his hands in surrender when Peggy raises an eyebrow at him. “What? You do!”

“You’ve never complained before.”

“I’m not complaining, Peg,” Daniel says softly, “I’m amazed.”

“Here here.”

Peggy rolls her eyes. “Oh, dear god, now there’s two of you.”

“I think this is the start of a wonderful friendship,” Daniel says, looking at Steve. Steve nods. 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Steve says, looking back and forth between the two of them, “how’d you two meet?”

“The SSR,” Peggy says, “we were colleagues.”

“Peggy kicked ass and no one else seemed to appreciate it.”

“Wow, I’m so surprised.”

“Boys,” Peggy sighs.

“And how did…” Steve gestures between the two of them, “this happen?”

Daniel makes eye contact with Peggy. “Should we just tell him the whole story?”

“Starting from New York and—“

“Yeah.”

Peggy settles into her pillows and fixes Steve with a look. “Well, to begin, Howard Stark is a ridiculous man.”

Steve gasps theatrically, his hands covering his mouth. 

“Oh, I like you,” Daniel says. 

Peggy swats Steve’s leg. “Behave.”

“Sorry.”

“Anyways, so the bloody bastard got himself accused of treason…”

[flyingblackhawk]

Pride and Percocet

Avengers fic

1,090 words

-

It’s been a hell of a day. They’re back at the compound at last, and now that they’ve all cleaned themselves up, the team is filtering into the kitchen. Tony, as per usual, has ordered a ridiculous number of pizzas, and Steve is picking a movie. Between the super soldier and Thor, there are plenty of classics they have never seen, so the choice usually comes down to them. Clint is making as much popcorn as he humanly can, and there seems to be an endless supply of beer coming from the various fridges in the kitchen. It feels a little like the old days. Then a worried voice cuts through the low chatter and the introductory fanfare of a Universal Studios film.

“Romanoff,” says Tony, “you’re bleeding.”

Natasha twists around to look over her shoulder. Sure enough, through the layers of her shirt and the hoodie she stole from Clint, a dark patch of blood is spreading.

“Shit,” she sighs. She stands, and suddenly sways. Clint rises immediately, and puts a steadying hand on her back, mindless of the blood.

“Easy,” he murmurs. All eyes are on them now. Clint guides her through the lounge towards the door, focusing on her as the team make various noises of alarm. He walks her out of sight down a corridor before he speaks again.

“How bad is it?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” she mumbles. He swears quietly, but doesn’t press the issue. She is leaning more heavily on him now, and he can’t believe he didn’t notice how pale she was.

The first room they come to is his, so Clint diverts them inside, and into the bathroom. There, he helps her pull off the hoodie. The back of her shirt is soaked through with blood. He strips that off too, and is confronted by a soaked gauze patch, which in turn reveals a bullet wound below her left shoulder.

“Fuck’s sake, Nat,” he mutters. She hangs her head, but he doesn’t know if that’s shame or blood loss and exhaustion. The wound has been clumsily stapled, and she obviously thought that would do it, but performing a wound closure on herself while reaching over an already injured shoulder has punched the staples half into the wound and half into untouched skin. She must be in agony. Clint knows where she stands on painkillers.

He cleans his hands and makes quick work of the first staple, but as he pulls the second out, covering his fingers in blood, he hears an intake of breath from behind him. He and Natasha turn, and find Steve holding a first aid kit loosely in one hand. His mouth is half open, but he is frozen, staring at the ragged hole in Natasha’s skin, and the blood dripping down onto the bathroom floor.

“I’m fine,” Natasha manages, but it’s less than convincing coming from her pale lips.

“You’re not fine,” Clint snaps. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Clint,” Steve protests.

“If you’re not going to help, get out,” Clint snaps. That seems to hit Steve where it needs to, and he kneels down, opening the kit.

“Don’t,” Natasha mumbles, swiping at Steve. She leaves a streak of red down his clean shirt.

“Stop it,” Clint says, firmly. She responds to his tone, and lets him work. Clint ignores the glare from Steve. He cleans the wound and grabs the suture kit.

“Wait,” Steve says, his voice panicked. “She needs-”

“She won’t take anything,” Clint interrupts. “Right, Nat?”

“No drugs,” Natasha says faintly.

“But-”

“She won’t, Rogers.” Clint pushes him gently but firmly out of the way, leaving more blood on his shirt. Steve watches in detached horror as Clint sews Natasha’s wound closed. Natasha doesn’t make a sound. When he’s done, he wipes her skin with antiseptic, and helps her up. Steve watches them walk unsteadily to Clint’s dresser, where he finds her a new shirt.

“You okay to stay here?” he asks her, and she nods. He helps her into bed, and Clint rests his hand on her shoulder for a long moment. Then he strips off his shirt, grabs a clean one for himself, and washes his hands.

“Come on,” he says to a stunned Steve as he goes for the door. Steve, shirt still bloodied, follows him.

“What the hell was that?” he demands, when they’re out of earshot.

“Pretty standard,” Clint answers. They enter the living area, and Clint ignores the sudden wave of alarmed questions from the team, who have instantly spotted Steve’s bloodied shirt. He waves them all off, and gets himself a beer.

“She’s fine,” he says, finally. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Is she seriously so proud that she’d rather bleed out than ask for help?” Tony asks sharply. Bruce elbows him, far too late.

“It’s not pride,” Clint yawns. “It’s just how she is.”

“How is it not pride?” Steve asks. “Clint, she wouldn’t let you give her painkillers before you sutured her.”

“What?” Bruce gasps. Even Thor looks horrified. Clint looks around at them, and remembers that these men have only known Natasha a few years at most. They still have a lot to learn.

“She was trained to be like this,” he says. “You can look it up in the files SHIELD has on the Red Room program. They desensitised the girls to the point where they would fight until they dropped.”

A heavy silence settles on the group as they process this.

“It’s been so long,” Steve says, finally. “Hasn’t she… you know, broken the programming?”

Clint shrugs. “Most of it. But there are parts that are so ingrained that no one could undo them. There are some things she’s always going to do, or believe, no matter how insane they are.”

“Pain is weakness,” Thor says, musingly. The others look at him, surprised. He chuckles, but it’s not a warm sound. “My father taught me the same thing,” the god says. “I was lucky. My mother did not think that way.”

Clint nods. “She lived a whole life before I met her,” he says. “All those years, she never had anyone she could trust enough to ask for help. Sometimes she still won’t let me help her. There’s nothing I can do about it, except be there when she’s ready to need me again.”

The silence pervades again. Clint grabs the remote and unpauses the movie. One by one, the team sit back on the couches and try to focus on the story on the screen, rather than the story in Clint’s bedroom.

[feedmecookiesnow]

drink up, me hearties, yo ho

For @clintscoffeepot who prompted: “Coming at you with a challenge. I’m giving you four to choose between but I want at least two in the fic. Bonus points if you can fit all four. “At least we have this fire to keep us warm.” + “Scoot over.  I wanna sit next to you.” + “You need to control your temper.” + “How do you get your skin to be so soft?””

Here you go, all four of them in a Pirates of the Caribbean AU, featuring Bucky as Jack Sparrow and Clint as Elizabeth. I regret nothing.

***

Clint hums softly to himself as he gathers more palm fronds. He has no idea if they’re decent at burning or not, but it’s at least something to put on a fire. He grabs a couple pieces of driftwood for good measure, then hauls it all back to the pile.

Once it’s somewhat arranged, he steps back and surveys the heap with a brief nod of satisfaction. “Good enough.”

He turns and looks out at the ocean, hoping against anything to see the white of a sail coming over the horizon. But there’s nothing to see except the setting sun.

They’ll find you, he assures himself. Steve’s probably got the whole fleet up in arms right now. Natasha won’t let him do anything less. They’ll find you.

“What are you doing?” asks a voice behind him, and he turns to see Captain Barnes dropping an enormous pile of wood onto the ground.

“Looking for a rescue,” Clint says irritably.

Barnes snorts. “No one’s coming to save you. Or me.” He waves an arm at the ocean. “This is it for us.”

“That’s not true,” Clint tells him. “Unlike you, I’ve got friends who will be looking for me. Quite fiercely, I might add. I’m a very important person.”

Barnes doesn’t say anything. Clint’s gaze drifts to his waist, and with a slight shock, he notes the pistol is back in Barnes’s belt.

“I hope you don’t plan on using that,” he says, pointing at it.

Barnes looks down and smirks. “My pistol, or my---”

“Pistol,” Clint says quickly, ignoring the remark even as he can feel his ears heat up. “They left you with only one shot, right?”

“That’s the tradition.”

“Well, you’re not going to use it, right?”

Barnes sighs. “Ask me again in a few weeks,” he says, and turns the other way.

Clint stares after him, then stumbles over the sand in pursuit. “Captain Barnes! We have to get off this island, immediately!”

“Don’t think I’m not already working on it,” Barnes says, walking into the trees. Clint follows him, unsure of what else to do.

They keep going, Barnes clearly looking for something. He counts palm trees, and takes oddly large steps, muttering something to himself as he does so. Finally, he stops at a pile of sand, using his hand to sweep it away. There’s a large iron ring underneath; he grabs and pulls at it.

“What is that? Is there a boat under there?”

Barnes grunts and pulls again, dragging up what appears to be a trapdoor. He drops it open and dusts off his hands, then looks inside. Clint watches as his face goes from hopeful to crestfallen in about two seconds flat.

He looks inside too, seeing nothing but a pit lined with dusty bottles, cobwebbed and ancient. They’re all full of some kind of amber liquid.

Clint doesn’t get it. “What? What’s wrong? How will this help us get off the island?”

“It won’t,” Barnes sighs, cracking open one of the bottles. He takes a swig of whatever’s inside, and makes a face somewhere between disgusted and intrigued. “It won’t, and so we won’t.”

“But...” Clint doesn’t know what to say. “But you were here before?”

Barnes shoves a couple of bottles at him. “I was.”

“You got off the island then, right?” Clint dismisses the sea turtle story for the fantasy it is. He’s spent enough time around Barnes to know that while there is something fantastical about him, using sea turtles as a raft is still an utterly ridiculous story. “How did you do it?”

Barnes grabs his own armful of bottles and hops back out, striding back towards the beach. Clint runs after him to keep up. “Captain Barnes!”

“Leave it,” Barnes growls at him. “Alright? Just leave it alone.”

“No, you have to tell me---”

Barnes turns quickly, dropping the bottles onto the sand. He pins Clint against the nearest palm tree, one hand against his chest, and other hand wrapped tightly around his upper arm. “Last time,” he hisses, eyes flaring with anger, “I was here a grand total of three days. Last time, the rumrunners who use the island as a cache came by, and I bartered passage off. But from the looks of that, they’ve been out of business for a long time, and so that won’t be happening again.”

Clint sucks in a breath, dropping his own bottles to push at Barnes. Barnes holds him there for a moment longer, then lets him go. Clint drops to the ground, one hand going to his arm. There’s going to be bruises. He can already feel them forming.

“We probably have your friend Rogers to thank for that,” Barnes adds, impassively watching Clint kneel at his feet. Then he picks up all the bottles and takes them back to the firewood.

Clint gathers himself after a moment and scurries after him, tripping over the loose sand. “So that’s it,” he finally gets out once Barnes is in earshot again. “That’s the secret grand adventure of the infamous James Barnes?” He glares at him. “You spent three days lying on the beach drinking rum?”

Barnes takes another swig of his bottle and offers him a lazy smile. “Welcome to the Caribbean, doll.”

Clint can hardly believe what he’s hearing. Joking. He’s got to be joking. But there’s something in the way he’s standing, and the resigned gaze that’s directed out to where they last saw the Black Pearl disappear that makes him think maybe not.  

“Think of it this way,” Barnes says, taking another drink. “We’ve got shade trees, thank the Lord. We’ve got some food on the trees, thank the Lord again. And we’ve got rum, praise the Lord.” He raises the bottle in Clint’s direction. “We can stay alive a month, maybe more. Keep a weather eye open for passing ships, and our chances are fair.”

“A month?” Clint gapes at him. “Tony doesn’t have a month! We’ve got to do something!”

“You’re right,” Barnes agrees, and for a moment Clint thinks he’s going to be reasonable. But then he hoists the bottle in the air and adds, “Here’s luck to you, Tony Stark.” He takes a drink, meeting Clint’s furious gaze with a calm expression.

Then he sits heavily in the sand next to their pile. “Don’t think I’m happy about this, Clint. But I see no use in wailing and gnashing my teeth over something I can do nothing about.”

“Not when you can drink instead,” Clint says acidly.

Barnes shrugs and tosses him a bottle.

Clint catches it, turning it over in his hand. The sun is almost completely set, and it’s getting chilly now. A drink would help to warm him a bit---either that or it’ll make him go blind, there’s no way this stuff is any good, not after all these years---

Barnes is looking at him with a contemplative expression. After a moment, Clint makes a decision. He unseals the bottle and takes a drink, pulling a face at the truly nasty liquid inside. “Oh God,” he mutters, fighting the urge to vomit everywhere.

“Goes down easier the second time,” Barnes tells him, smirking as he takes his own drink.

Clint makes a face again, but tries another sip. Barnes is right, it does go down easier. It’s still awful, but not quite as bad.

“There you go,” Barnes says encouragingly. He sets his bottle down and gets to his feet. “Go on and sit, I’ll get the fire started.”

Clint parks himself on a nearby piece of driftwood and watches as Barnes kneels down by the palm fronds.  He’s a scoundrel, Clint thinks, eyes drifting to the curve of his pants, and a good-for-nothing pirate, but I have to admit, he looks damn good in those---

As if on cue, Barnes raises his head to meet Clint’s gaze, a slight smirk playing across his mouth. Clint flushes and looks away, cursing the rum. That’s the only explanation for this.

Barnes gets the fire started, then comes back over to Clint. He drops to the sand, leaning against a palm tree. “Nice view,” he says with a knowing smile.

“Shut up,” Clint mutters, taking another drink. It’s the rum, it’s just the rum.

They sit in silence for awhile, watching the fire slowly burn its way through the wood and the leaves. For as awful as this situation is---being marooned on a desert island with a notorious pirate and little chance of rescue---Clint finds himself at ease. It might be the rum, sure, but after the stress and terror of the last few days, it’s also just nice to take a moment to breathe.

Barnes apparently feels the same way. He’s steadily working his way through the rum, a contented look on his face. His shirt is half open, revealing his chest, and there’s just a light dusting of hair that Clint finds oddly appealing---

Clint lets out a little groan and shakes his head like he’s trying to dislodge the thoughts from his mind. Stop thinking about him like that, Barton. Come on.

Barnes raises his eyebrow, then offers that same knowing smile. Clint is pretty sure his face is on fire, but it’s probably too difficult to see in the flickering firelight. Still, the way Barnes is looking at him...

Clint takes another drink. Maybe if he finishes the bottle, his brain will be drunk enough to think of something besides the long, lithe way Barnes is stretched out in the sand, one hand resting casually on his hip, one knee bent up---

“Christ,” Clint mutters out loud, and sets the rum down.

“Problem?” Barnes asks, his tone highly amused.

“No,” Clint says. “No problem.” He shivers from the wind.

“Are you cold?”

“No.” He shivers again.

Barnes sighs. “You’re cold,” he says. “Come sit over here.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not proper,” Clint tells him, trying and failing to sound like he cares about those kinds of things. He does, to some extent, but all of that also feels very far away right now. “You know I’m promised to Commodore Rogers.”

“Well,” Barnes says, hurling a stray bit of driftwood at the fire. “When he shows up, you’re more than welcome to sit by him. Until then, you’re cold, and it’s warmer over here.”  

Clint scowls at him, but he’s right. His driftwood bench doesn’t offer much protection from the wind at all.

“Fine,” he sighs, getting up. He stumbles over to Barnes, the rum making him loose-limbed, and practically falls on top of him. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Barnes says, sounding very pleased.

Clint makes a face and rolls off him, arranging himself the proper distance away. He takes another swig of his rum. It doesn’t taste foul anymore, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Still cold over here,” he mutters.

“At least we have the fire to keep us warm.”

“And the rum.”

“And the rum,” Barnes agrees. He turns to look at him, then focuses on the set of bruises. “These look new. Did I do this?”

“You need to control your temper,” Clint tells him as he tilts his head up. ”Seriously.”

Barnes nods, looking apologetic. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He sighs, tilts his head back. “It’s just that that’s the second time I’ve had to watch Pierce sail away with my ship. It’s got me a bit on edge.”

“We’ll get it back,” Clint says.

“We?”

“Yeah.” He flops a hand over Barnes’s arm, thumbing over the faded tattoo of a bird. “You and me. Once we’re rescued. We’ll go get it back.”

“I don’t think your Commodore Rogers will be very pleased with that.”

“He’ll do it,” Clint says. “And if not, we’ll take his ship.”

Barnes bursts out laughing at that, shaking Clint a little bit as he gasps in air. “I’m a bad influence on you,” he says once he gets himself under control, wiping his eyes. “We’ve been spending too much time together.”

“Probably,” Clint agrees. He thumbs over the tattoo again. For whatever reason, Clint had expected Barnes’s skin to be rough and rugged under his fingertips. But other than the pirate brand, it’s surprisingly smooth and soft to the touch. “How do you do it?” he mutters, dragging his fingers up Barnes’s forearms.

“How do I do what?”

“How do you get your skin to be so soft?”

Barnes looks down at him, that fond smile playing over his face again. “Maybe we should stop with this,” he says, tugging the bottle away from Clint’s hand. “Just for now.”

“Give it back,” Clint says, swiping at it. “It’s mine.”

“Alright, doll.”

Clint feels like he should protest the informal nickname, but he likes it too much to really be angry. So he just takes another swallow, and shivers as the wind blows again. “Ugh,” he says. “Fine. Scoot over. I want to sit next to you.”

“You are sitting next to me.”

“More.” Clint moves closer, closing the short distance between them until he’s practically curled up on top of Barnes. It’s so not proper, he knows, but he doesn’t really care. He’s cold, and Barnes is warm. It’s just survival. And if it makes his heart beat a little faster, well...not like anyone but him can tell.

They’re quiet for awhile, listening to the crackle of the fire and the roar of the surf. Barnes’s arm is wrapped around him, and it feels very nice.

Clint raises his bottle to the light, squinting at it. It’s almost empty. “Drink up, me hearties, yo ho,” he mumbles, and finishes off the last of it.

“What was that?”

Clint grins and tosses the bottle aside. “Nothing.”

“Share,” Barnes says, grinning back at him. “Please.”

“It’s just a song I learned as a boy,” Clint says. “A song about pirates.”

Barnes snorts. “I know a lot of songs about pirates, but not one I’d ever teach a child. Let’s hear it.”

“It’s silly,” Clint says, blushing a little. “Back home, we didn’t know anything about pirates. They seemed so romantic, and daring---“ He blushes more, and Barnes’s grin gets a little more wicked.

“That was before I met one, of course,” Clint adds. “Now I know better.”

Barnes snorts. “I want to hear it,” he says. “An authentic pirate song. Have at it.”

“I need more to drink, first,” Clint says, and gets reluctantly to his feet. He trips his way over to their bottle collection and grabs another, taking a long swallow before turning to face Barnes again. He’s still leaning against the tree, but now he’s propped up on one elbow, and the firelight is reflecting off his skin---

You have a problem, Clint tells himself, but at least it’s a problem he’s somewhat enjoying, right?

“Well?” Barnes asks.

Clint clears his throat, suddenly a little self-conscious with the way Barnes is looking at him. “We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, we loot. Drink up, me hearties, yo ho.” He takes another drink, then carries on, his voice a little more sure. “We kidnap, and ravage, and don’t give a hoot. Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!”

Barnes looks absolutely delighted, and he stumbles to his own feet. “More,” he demands, swaying a little bit. “More, I want to hear the rest---”

So Clint teaches him the rest, and they have more rum, and somehow they end up arm in arm, screaming the song at the top of their lungs as they twirl around the massive bonfire. Clint keeps tripping over his feet, and Barnes catches him every time, hands steady despite the amount of rum he’s consumed.

Clint eventually ends up on his ass in the sand, grinning like a madman as Barnes grabs another bottle. “I love this song!” he announces, collapsing on the ground next to Clint. “When I get the Black Pearl back, I’m going to teach it to the whole crew, and we’ll sing it all the time!”

“You’ll be positively the most fearsome pirates to sail the Spanish Main,” Clint laughs, knocking his bottle against Barnes’s.

“Not just the Spanish Main, love,” Barnes says, and okay, Clint likes the sound of that word far too much. “The whole ocean...the whole world. Wherever we want to go, we go. That’s what a ship is, you know. Not just a keel and a hull, a deck and sails. That’s what a ship needs. But what a ship is...what the Black Pearl is...is freedom.”

Clint lays his head on Barnes’s shoulder. “It must be terrible,” he says quietly. “Being trapped on this island all over again.”

“Ah well...” Barnes takes a drink. “The company is better than last time. And the scenery has definitely improved.”

“Glad I could help,” Clint says, leaning over to pick up his own bottle. It’s empty, and he scowls at it before tossing it aside.

When he looks back, Barnes is eyeing him with an unreadable expression on his face. Or maybe not entirely unreadable, not with the way his gaze keeps drifting to Clint’s mouth, like he’d possibly like to kiss it.

He’s a pirate, Clint tells himself. He’s a pirate, and an absolute bastard, and you are supposed to be promised to someone else.

Barnes sits up a little and reaches out, wrapping a hand in Clint’s shirt. “Come here,” he says, and Clint goes, because what the hell else is he going to do? His resistance crumbled a long time ago, if it was ever even there in the first place. They’ve been heading towards this moment since Barnes pulled him out of the water at the fort.

Barnes tastes like rum, and smells like smoke and sweat, but it’s somehow the best kiss Clint’s ever had anyway. He lets those strong hands tug him a little more until he loses his balance and falls forward, breaking off the kiss with a surprised noise. Barnes grins and rolls them easily until Clint is flat on his back in the sand. “Don’t worry, doll,” he says, his mouth barely inches away. “I got you.”

“I know,” Clint says, and reaches up with uncoordinated hands, sliding his hands under Barnes’s shirt. “I know you do.”

He doesn’t know what’s coming tomorrow, or the next day, or if they’ll even get off this cursed island at all. But for now, at least, he’s happy to put those thoughts aside in favor of losing himself to this moment.

“Pirate’s life for me,” he mumbles, and hears a quiet huff of laughter.

“Drink up, me hearties, yo ho,” Barnes says back before capturing his mouth once more.

[argylemikewheeler]

|| i saw this post and just had the idea of will freaking out at mike for being tall-- but of course that’s not really what it’s about. just something short and sweet (literally) for you || ao3

It’s in the grocery store that Will just snaps at him. Will’s going shopping for his mom after school. It’s no big thing; Will enjoys the time alone. Except of course, it’s the last day before spring break and Mike’s skipped the last day of school and driven up to see him. Mike’s an extra set of hands to help brings bags into the house, and he’s not too bad of a driver to man the cart.

When Mike pulls up to the house-- just as Will’s grabbing his bag and getting to Jonathan’s car-- he looks so different. His hair is just a little shorter-- cropped and kept, just how Ted likes it, but with Karen’s kind influence of letting him be, Ted, come on. The main thing, at least to Will, is that he’s taller. The man is taller. Will feels his neck crack as he tilts back, just a little. He didn’t shrink, but when Mike runs up to him, he swears he did.

When Will is silent and stares at him for a while, Mike replies that he’s six-foot-two. Which is fine. It’s fine. It’s just that Will is five-foot-six still. But whatever. It’s fine.

Will kind of forgets about it-- forgets about how his new friends call him small. not short but small; how his new doctor is worried he’s stunted from all his “medical trauma” and is trying to talk his mother into having him take steroids; how he secretly likes being the same height because he knows his mom can’t afford buying both him and El new clothes; how he hates that the first thing people notice between him and Mike isn’t even that they’re two men since Will’s short enough to match people’s perception of what “normal” couples look like. Will just forgets about it. And for a while it’s nice.

Mike doesn’t know jack shit about vegetables and Will teaches him how to pick fruit that is just the right amount of unripe so it will last longer in the fridge. Mike pushes the cart and nods, at least pretending he’s enjoying the lesson. It’s 1988 and Mike places his hand on Will’s back when he stands and stares at the wall of soup cans, trying to read prices and brands quickly. It’s 1988 and Will doesn’t even watch how he says “Michael”. It’s a nice outing until they get to the cereal aisle.

It is nearly cleaned out, all the extra boxes up on the top shelf in disorganized storage stacks. Will groans and steps up onto the bottom shelf, his hand straining as he feels around for a box of something. His ribs are pressed to the middle shelf and he tries to keep from swearing. There’s an older lady with two young kids that’s been watching them since they arrived in the aisle-- Mike’s hand gently finding Will’s-- and Will doesn’t want to give her any ammunition to start shouting.

“Would you like some help, Will?” Mike laughs and grabs him under the arms. He hoists Will nearly like he’s weightless, helping him step down to the floor again.

Will sighs. “Yes.”

“What do you want?” Before Will can answer, Mike is sliding box after box down and placing them on the shelves in front of Will’s eye line. “I’ve got ‘em all.”

“I just needed the Cheerios, thanks.” Will grumbles, taking the box and tossing it into the cart. He pushes the cart and they leave the woman’s stare. He feels tense all over again. He forgets to keep forgetting about it-- about everything-- for a moment.

“How do you do this without me.” Mike is simply trying to tease him-- be verbally affectionate when his hands can only jostle his shoulders. “I need to think about moving up here you don’t have to struggle every time you just want to buy something--”

“Shut up, Mike.”

“W--What? What did I say? Was it that you’re short? Because... Will, we know this. It’s my favorite thing about you, you know that.”

“I don’t really want to hear it right now.” Will isn’t aware he’s clenching his teeth until he hears himself speak. “Being small is kind of not my favorite.”

“Oh, but-- It’s fun! You fit right under my arm and you don’t really need to steal as much of the blankets when we sleep--”

“Mike.” Will tries to drop out from under Mike’s arm: he placed it around his shoulders to demonstrate his point. Will is suddenly very aware that they’re two men, even if from every other angle no one seems to notice because he’s... a full eight inches shorter than Mike. It doesn’t feel great to be able to excuse homophobia because he’s as short as a girl. “Mike, please shut up.”

“What?” He’s sincere, but he’s still very confused. He still thinks it’s about being short. He doesn’t move his arm. “OH, well, actually I do hate the whole you-get-to-steal-my-clothes-thing. But if those are the reparations--”

“Would you just shut up, Tall Boy!” Will snaps, twisting around to face Mike. They’re in the middle of the baby section, where no one would be likely to stumble into them.

“T-Tall Boy?” Mike laughs, but he’s still trying to figure out that Will’s genuinely upset. “I-- What? What happened? Did I say something?”

“Yes! Stop talking about how short I am. I hate it.” Will doesn’t know why but he chokes up a little. He pretends he needs to be looking at plastic sippy cups. They look so out of place when the older lady and her children come strolling past. “I hate remembering I’m short.”

“Remembering.” Mike repeats. “Do you... forget?”

“El grew four inches in like... two months.”

“Okay...”

“Mom had to buy her new skirts and jeans because they got too short, too fast. It was the middle of winter and her ankles were so chapped-- She worked another two shift to pay for it.” Will’s breathing is choppy and it’s so stupid. Mike is silent, but because he’s listening, which is still weird for Will to think about.

“Okay. So short is good. You’ve got all your clothes and you’ve got all mine if you need it. And I’m sure Steve’s got more stuff that’s up your alley. It’s okay. Will, it’s okay. I won’t let you go cold.” Mike places his hands on Will’s shoulders, his thumbs brush against his neck.

“They say I’m small at school.” Will pushes through. “Small. You know what else is small? Babies are small. Mistakes are small. OH and you know what is usually small? Girls. Girls are small-- except my sister. Who’s giant--”

“She’s only like... five-nine.”

“Mike.”

“Sorry, literal perspective I see is not the point here.” He nods. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just-- People don’t think you’re gay sometimes.” Will realizes this doesn’t make sense to anyone but him.

“Uh. That’s... I’m not sure that’s our fault.”

“Well, see, it’s my fault. From a distance, I look like your girlfriend. Not a very, short short man.”

“Well, that’s not your fault. People are blind and weird and straight. That’s not-- You’re not a girl, Will. You definitely aren’t a girl nor look like one or act like one or-- You just aren’t. Being short is not a fault!”

Will sighs and leans into Mike’s hand. “You’re supposed to say that. You’re my boyfriend.”

“I could complain-- would you like me to?” Mike says with a smile. His eyebrows are still furrowed though: he’s upset. “I hate that you can fit comfortably on any bed we share. I hate that... You sometimes can buy kids’ shirts? Because they’re always cooler. Like, you have one you bought as a painting smock that has a freakin shark on it and I gotta say... Men’s clothes, not as cool! I’m less cool as my art school boyfriend because I got tall too quick. Dude, that sucks. I want to be cool like you!”

Will is definitely crying, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He laughs and smiles. He hopes it makes up for his sniffling. “You think I’m cool?”

“Yeah! My cool, short boyfriend. He’s awesome and he’s super nice because he... worries about the socio-political meaning of him being short. Like. He’s so smart. So smart.”

“He’s the only one who knows what the hell a mango is in your relationship.” Will says, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah! Concentrated intelligence!” Mike reaches for Will’s underarms again. He catches Will’s smile before jokingly hoisting him an inch off the ground. “He’s better because of-- everything, but right now let’s say it’s because he’s not a six-foot-two monster who hits his head on every door frame in his house.”

“Oh my god-- is that what that bump is from?” Will hiccups, laughter nearly scaring him. “Oh, Michael, you poor.... tall thing.”

They laugh in the baby aisle until Will’s face is less red and puffy. As they walk, Mike makes jokes about the weird names of food brands. He offers to get Will things on all shelves, just being a helpful partner rather than a shopping giraffe. He repeats Will’s name every time he speaks to him and someone is in earshot. Will smiles and each time calls him a sappier and sweeter version of “Michael”. Will finishes shopping and feels rather accomplished as they pack the car up.

He forgets about everything again for a while. Everything but Mike. Well, Mike, but more importantly how he makes him feel: so happy, so listened to, so short. And it’s all okay. It’s nothing. Just one small thing in a short life full of so many wonderful, loving things.

[bruciewayne]

ask him to ask you

stevetony, fluff, highschool au, mutual pining

Tony’s things clatter onto the table and Tony himself follows, practically collapsing opposite Steve.

They’re in the diner they’ve been going to for the past few years every Friday after school. Steve can’t tell if he hates that Bucky calls it date-night, or if he wishes that it was.

“PhD finally beat you?” Steve teases.

Tony glares at him, offended, “No.” He drinks his coffee as grumpily as he can until Steve asks him what’s wrong. Steve definitely shouldn’t find this as amusing as he does.

“What happened?”

“Turns out,” Tony starts, dropping his cup on the table and turning to Steve (occasionally, Steve gets a headrush from Tony’s full attention, the overwhelming intensity of it, all focused on him. Today is one of those times. Most days are, if he’s being honest.), “I’m not allowed to go to prom!”

Steve’s mouth is too full to answer properly, so he makes a suitably shocked face.

“Because my attendance is shit! Apparently I’ve been ‘classed as a student’ even though everyone knows I’m a TA and I’m in college half the week. AND they said it was all fine at the start of the year. But I guess not!”

Steve knows how much this means to Tony. Not prom specifically, just the whole ‘normal teenage experience’. And because of how important it is to Tony, and because he’s spent far too much of his life finding loopholes (which only got worse when he met Bucky in kindergarten and then Matt, in freshman year), he says quite possibly the worst thing he could to the guy he’s maybe, a little, (definitely, a lot) in love with.

“Be someone’s plus-one, no attendance rules against that,” he suggests, even as everything in his body and mind screams at him to shut up.

He tells himself that it’s worth it when Tony lights up and calls him a genius as he whips out his phone, fingers flying over the keypad.

“Bucky, help me--”

“Is it Tony related?”

“Maybe.”

Bucky sighs and nudges Steve with his foot until he hands him the popcorn bowl.

“Well,” he says, once he has his mouth full, “what stupid thing did you do?”

“Um. Well, you know how much Tony wanted to go to prom?”

“Sure.”

“The school said that he couldn’t ’cause of his attendance, so we found a loophole and long story short I told him to ask someone to prom,” Steve says, trying as hard as he can to not look at Bucky, because he knows that he has his ‘You’re so goddamn stupid’ face on.

“Someone who isn’t you?”

“Someone who isn’t me.”

Bucky’s silent for all of three seconds. “Why did you ask him to prom?”

“Oh yeah, why didn’t I ask him in a crowded diner and lose both my dignity and one of my best friends in the span of five seconds?” Steve says, sarcastically, throwing kernels at Bucky.

“Even if he did say no, he wouldn’t be a dick about it--”

“He’d think it was a joke,” Steve grumbles.

Bucky hums and concedes his point. “Yeah, but he wouldn’t be a dick about it.”

“Buck.”

“Steve.”

“He’s gonna find the love of his life and if not for prom, then probably at college, if he hasn’t already and it’s not gonna be me,” Steve says in a small voice, in a rush.

Bucky tugs him into a rough hug, saying more than he ever properly could.

“Buckaroo! Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Steve freezes when he hears that, just a couple feet in front of him and Sam crashes into him. His heart drops straight out of his chest when Tony drags Bucky out of the lunch line to the corner of the cafeteria, out of earshot of everyone.

“He’s not gonna ask him to prom,” Sam says, confidently.

“I know that,” Steve defends, even as he focuses on Not Looking at them.

“Bucky already has a date.”

Steve grins, despite himself, “Oh yeah?”

Sam smiles back, “Yeah.”

“About fucking time.”

Watching Sam and Bucky pine after each other in the absolute dumbest, most ridiculous way possible, in the way that only those two could, for at least the last two years (or maybe even longer), had been a small hell on his part, so he’s happy for them. Hopefully, it’ll mean that he’s no longer playing the middle man for them.

“I wasn’t stealing your man, just looking for advice,” Tony says when they rejoin the line.

“And you went to Buck?” Steve says, incredulously, masking the (stupid, dumb, irrational) hurt. He gets a punch in the arm and a glare for the trouble.

“I’ll have you know that I can be very advisable.”

“You once told me to taste different paint to see if the colour changed the flavour!”

Sam looks between the two of them, “You ate paint because you thought it was flavoured?”

“He told me to!” Steve accuses. In his defence, he had been curious.

Tony tries, and fails, to hide a laugh, “Now, Steven, if Bucky jumped off a bridge--”

“You’re spending far too much time with my mother,” Steve grumbles.

“No such thing,” Tony says, simply.

They get their food and Steve pushes anything to do with prom and Tony to the back of his mind in favour of poking fun at Sam and Bucky.

“-- I’ll make sure that he doesn’t suspect a thing, honey, yeah, okay, have a good day, sweetie.”

“Make sure who doesn’t suspect a thing?” Steve asks, dropping his bag on the floor and kicking off his shoes as his ma hangs up the phone.

“I thought I taught you better than to eavesdrop, and I know that I taught you better than to leave your shoes like that,” his ma says, pointing at his haphazardly thrown shoes, barely a foot away from the rack. Steve rolls his eyes but he goes to righten his shoes anyway.

His ma gives him a quick hug, “How was your day?”

Steve shrugs noncommittally, following her into the kitchen. “Eh. Nothing new, prom stuff, college stuff.”

“You wanna go?” She asks, turning on the oven and pulling a dish out of the fridge. Steve takes out plates and cutlery and starts to set the table.

“Prom? I don’t have anyone to ask.”

“What about Tony?” His ma asks, innocently.

“What-what about Tony?” Steve asks, matching her innocence, looking up from where he’s sitting.

“Steven.”

“Ma!”

“I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you, and the way you look at him.”

“I told him to take--”

“Someone else? Yeah, James told me about that.”

Steve groans and lets his head drop onto the table, “Does everyone report to you?”

“Only when you’ve forgotten your common sense.”

Steve resists the urge to bang his head on the table, just barely. His ma sets the timer and then comes to sit beside him.

“Steve.”

“Yeah.”

She brushes his hair back, “You two are gonna be fine, I promise.”

Steve lets out a long, high pitched whine, mostly muffled by the table.

Later, when he’s ready to go to sleep, he fiddles with a Rubic’s Revenge cube, twisting it so all the colours jumble together and then twisting it back to organisation.

--

“I don’t know how to fix it,” Tony, the boy who’s so much smarter than them all, the boy who can go head to head with highschool seniors, despite being half their height, says to him, handing him the cube, still all mixed up.

“You don’t fix it,” Steve replies, twisting the cube and swinging his legs, feet barely brushing the tarmac as Tony watches, enthralled. “You solve it, like a maths thing.” He shows him the side he just solved, red. His best record is one and a half sides, but his ma can do all the sides.

“Like a puzzle?”

“Game.”

“My father says that games are a waste of time,” Tony mumbles. 

Steve hands him the cube, rejumbled, “Tell him it’s one of those maths things.”

On his birthday, Tony gives him a new cube, a four-by-four one, called Rubic’s Revenge, because Steve told him to keep the other one. It took him until the summer to solve one side and then until he was in the fifth grade to do all.

--

“Hey, uh, Mrs. Rogers, Sarah, I’m just, um, calling, well, leaving a message, messaging? Anyway. Um, the stuff, for Steve, I have it, well, I still need to fix a, uh thing in the thing but it’ll be done by tomorrow, by Friday. And, uh, thanks, for all of this, really. Um, goodbye. Thank you.” 

Tony hangs up the phone and re-focusses on the cube in front of him, moving the magnifier above a tiny little mechanism. It’s an almost-replica of a Rubic’s Revenge, made of wood, when Steve solves it, it should open to show ‘Will you take me to prom?’. Keyword being should.

He solves it, of course he does, and then spends half the night convincing himself not to destroy it and tell Sarah that he made a mistake. Bucky told him that if he didn’t ask Steve to ask him to prom, he would do it for them himself. On the school intercom.

He spends the other half convincing himself not to down an entire bottle of Daniel’s. Sarah, Bucky, Steve and he himself would never be able to forgive him if he asked Steve out hungover. He doesn’t know if the fact that at least four people refuse to let him ask Steve out hungover is a blessing or a curse.

He works on the Riemann hypothesis until he can barely keep his eyes open.

The next day he’s half-awake in college. The professor tells him he’s happy to see him sober.

“PhD finally beat your ass?” Steve asks, pushing a muffin and a mocha towards him after he drops his many, many bags.

Tony takes half the muffin in his mouth, “You sound like Bucky,” he says, though it sounds more like ‘mmm mmmf mmf mmfmm’.

“I’ve sounded like Bucky for as long as you’ve known me,” Steve retorts, grinning at him over his hot chocolate.

Tony fakes a look of shock. “How have I just realised?” 

If this were a date, Steve would say something like ‘love makes you blind’, and Tony would maybe laugh and then lean over the table to kiss him and he’d smile. But it’s not. So he says, “‘Cause you’re an idiot,” instead.

If this were a date, Tony would say something like ‘your idiot’, and Steve would maybe laugh and then lean over the table to kiss him and he’d smile. But it’s not. Yet (hopefully, so damn hopefully), anyway. So he says, “Started a PhD before most people got their college acceptance letters,” instead.

“Selectively appearing brain cells,” Steve says.

Tony outright groans at that, “You’re lucky that Bruce isn’t here.”

“I don’t need biology to know that I’m right.”

“Sound like Bucky!”

“Arguably not a bad thing.”

Tony gives Steve a look. “I will survey everyone who’s ever had to come into contact with Barnes.”

“I’ll ask my ma.”

“Cheater.”

“He’s your best friend!” Steve says, in a sing-song voice.

“Rhodey might have a problem with that.”

Steve just shrugs and they lapse into a comfortable silence, drinking their drinks.

“I have something for you,” Tony says, suddenly, putting down his cup and rummaging around in one of his bags. He hands him the cube, hand shaking slightly.

Steve turns it in his hands. A wooden Rubic’s Revenge. “You made it?”

Tony nods, nervous. “Solve it.”

“Time?”

Tony nods again and looks at his watch. “Go.” He watches Steve’s hands fly over the cube, fast and gentle at the same time. “A minute-twenty,” he says, smiling back at Steve as he places the solved cube on the table, grandly. He’s exactly on par with his personal best, and the look on his face quells some of the nervousness Tony feels, just hoping that the little, tiny mechanism works.

The cube folds out into a long line of six squares. WILL YOU ASK ME TO PROM?

Steve smiles, so Tony takes that as a good sign, “Before I ask I gotta know, is it because you want to go to prom or ’cause you like me ‘cause--”

“I’ve liked you since you told me to lie to my father, and I’ve probably loved you since you gave me that damn Rubic’s cube and I’ve known that I love you since you punched Beck in fifth grade.”

Steve stares at him, “Will you go to prom with me?”

“I’d love to.”

Steve does what he’s wanted to do for the past few years they’ve been going to this cafe and lunges across the table to kiss him. It’s a little awkward, and he thinks that he hears Angie, who runs the cafe, yell finally!, but honestly, he’s not paying much attention to anything or anyone who’s not Tony.

“I, uh, love you too, have done for too long to remember what’s it like not to, to be honest,” Steve says, when they pull away.

Tony drags him back into another, then another and again and again until Steve’s lightheaded in the best way possible.

(Three years later, after his graduation, Steve hands him a wooden three-by-three. When Tony solves it, it springs open and there’s a shining, silver-coloured key.)

((And two years after that, Tony gives him a two-by-two cube, and when Steve solves it, and when it creaks open, there’s a ring, gleaming. He says yes.))

-

for ‘promposal’ on happy steve bingo

[afictionaladventure16]

can i request one Natasha x Bucky x Teen!Reader? where is Reader birthday, the 16-year-old avenger, who has no family but has always been considered by the team as “Natasha's and Bucky child ”. So, on her birthday, they filed the adoption papers to see what she thinks of making things official.

Our Birthday Girl (Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x Teen!Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hope you enjoy the fic! I also want to thank @musicalmarvels for editing this fic for me! Catching all my errors! It means a lot!! ❤❤❤❤

Avengers Masterlist

Avengers Complete Masterlist

Warnings: Mentions of loneliness

Word Count: 2,007

“Hey!” Sam exclaimed as you took the AUX cord from his phone.

“It’s my birthday, Sam,” you say with a smirk as you plugged the AUX cord into your phone. 

Sam rolled his eyes, “Whatever,” he said as he focused on driving. You and Sam were sent on a small mission; a mission that had lasted two days. “Do Nat and Bucky have anything special planned for your birthday?” 

You rolled your eyes. The team had officially claimed you to be Natasha and Bucky’s child mostly because you had come from a similar background but also because Natasha and Bucky seemed to have this protectiveness over you. 

You were an orphan since you were fairly young; both your parents were captured by Hydra and their death gave Hydra the ability to experiment on you. When you were 12 years old, Shield had saved you. Fury introduced you to the team but the first two people you warmed up to were Natasha and Bucky. “They didn’t mention anything,” you mumbled. Even with everyone calling you their child, you did think of them as your parents.

“It’s your sixteenth birthday, it’s kind of big.” 

“Yeah, and so is eighteen and twenty-one,” you smirked. 

Sam just smiled. He knew what Natasha and Bucky had planned; he just loved knowing you weren’t expecting it because frankly, it’s about time the couple was going to finally do something. The whole team had been suggesting it since a couple months after you arrived. 

It wasn’t long until you and Sam arrived at the compound, “Oh, come on, Sam! It’s my birthday!” you exclaimed as you both entered the kitchen.

“I don’t care!” Sam let out a sigh of relief as he spotted Natasha and Bucky at the kitchen table drinking coffee, “Nat, Bucky, please handle your child,” he said as he gestured towards you. 

“What did she do this time?” Natasha asked with her eyebrows raised. 

“Can you believe this kid wanted me to carry her inside,” Sam said in disbelief.

You rolled your eyes and walked over to where Bucky was sitting, “Well, it is her birthday,” Bucky said with a smirk. 

You chuckled and sat down next to him, wrapping your arms around him, “And this is why I love you, Buck.” 

Bucky smiled and placed a small kiss on your forehead, “Happy birthday, baby doll.”

You hadn’t noticed Natasha had gotten up from her spot until she was engulfing you in a hug, “Happy birthday, sweetie.” 

“This is real cute,” Sam said, “but I got paperwork to do,” He sent a wink to Bucky and Nat before leaving the room. 

Natasha sat down next to you, “So, what do you want to do today?” 

You honestly didn’t know what you wanted to do. You were tired from the recent mission, and all you wanted to do was relax and watch some movies. You shrugged, “I just want to relax,” you said softly. 

“Well, we can put on Star Wars,” Bucky suggested causing you to smile, “and order your favorite take out.” 

“Or we can have a Harry Potter marathon!” Natasha also suggested. 

“Whatever you want, baby doll, it is your birthday after all,” Bucky said with a smile. 

“Harry Potter marathon,” you said with a grin. 

 “I’ll go order the take out while you go take a shower,” Bucky scrunched up his nose, “You stink.” 

“Hey!” You exclaimed as you playfully hit his shoulder. Bucky chuckled. You got up from your seat and walked over to the elevator. 

Once you were out of earshot range, Natasha looked over at Bucky, “We’re doing it tonight, right?” 

Bucky nods, “It’s long overdue,” he mumbled. 

“We’ll watch movies, sing her happy birthday with the team, and have some cake,” Natasha mumbled the plan, “Then when everyone leaves and she thinks we’re gonna watch more movies, we give her the present.” Bucky gazed at Natasha as she continued to mumble to herself. He was smiling at her. Natasha could feel his eyes on her and looked at him, “What?” 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

She rolled her eyes, “I know.” 

You took a quick shower and changed into some sweats along with a comfy, long-sleeve shirt. You walked into the living room and saw that Nat had the movies ready; she was sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone, “Where’s Bucky?” you asked as you sat down next to her. 

“He’s asking everyone what they want from your favorite restaurant. I told him to just get the two family combos but he insisted on getting everyone’s favorite dish.” 

You chuckled, “Sounds like Bucky,” you say as you made yourself comfortable next to Nat. She placed an arm around you as you snuggled against her. 

“Alright,” you heard Bucky say, “I just need to call it in and then we can watch movies,” he said as he took his phone out. 

After a couple of minutes, Bucky came back into the living room with a blanket. He placed it on top of you and Nat and then sat on the other side of you. “Where is everyone else?” You asked as Nat began the movie. 

“They um… they’re doing some things…” Bucky trailed off. 

“They’ll join us when the food gets here,” Natasha said with a smile. 

About an hour passed, and the food finally arrived. Everyone was now at the table eating. 

“One thing I do remember,” Steve began to say, “was the day Y/N arrived,” he said with a smile. 

“Oh gosh, please don’t tell me you’re going to get emotional,” you said. 

Steve chuckled, “I just can’t believe you’re sixteen. It feels like just yesterday you were this shy twelve year old following Bucky around like a lost puppy.” 

Bucky smiled, “I remember that, but if we’re gonna talk memories, I think my favorite memory of Y/N would be of the time she saved Sam’s ass during that one mission.” 

“Which one out of the many?” you asked with a smirk on your face. 

Sam glared at the both of you, “Ha ha real funny.” 

“I think my favorite has to be the time Bucky and I had to go to the parent-teacher conference for her school a few months back,” Natasha said with a broad grin.

Bucky smiled, “You know what, I change my mind, that’s my favorite memory as well.” 

You remembered that day very well; it was quite an emotional day for you. 

You sat in the back of the class, watching as your friends laughed with their parents as they showed them around their homeroom. You felt like you didn’t belong there; you didn’t even know why you showed up, but you did. This was your first year in an actual public school, and you didn’t think you would feel left out. 

Everyone had a norm. They had a family. You… had yourself. 

You sighed to yourself and got up from your seat, making your way out to the hallway. Why did you show up? 

You began walking down the hallway towards the exit, “Where do you think you’re going?” you heard a familiar voice say. Your heart leaped at the familiarness. You turned around to see Natasha and Bucky holding hands as they walked closer to you. They stopped just before the door to your homeroom.

“We got lost,” Natasha began to explain, “Hope we’re not too late.” 

You felt moved to tears, maybe you weren’t so alone after all. Bucky let go of Natasha’s hand and walked up to you. You desperately wrapped your arms around him, letting out a soft sob.  “Shh,” he said calmly, “It's okay.” 

You felt someone place their hand on your shoulder. You peeked to see Natasha giving you a comforting smile, “I know it feels like you’re alone,” she glanced over to the classroom door, “that you don’t have a family but-” 

“We’re your family,” Bucky finished saying as he gently rubbed your back. 

“And we will always be your family,” Natasha added. 

“I love you guys so much,” you said softly. 

“And we love you,” Natasha said softly. You let go of the embrace you had held with Bucky and Natasha gently wiped away your tears, cupping your face, “Now I want to hear all the good things your teacher has to say about you.” 

“Yeah! Hey, maybe you should show me where all the cool hangouts are,” you raised your eyebrows at Bucky, “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in a high school.” 

“Almost a hundred years, a long time,” Natasha said with a smile. 

Bucky rolled his eyes. You laughed and then showed them to your homeroom, “This is my homeroom,” you explained, “It’s kind of like study hall. It’s a bit boring but next, we can go to my English Lit class.” 

“That’s with Mrs. Smith, right?” Natasha asked.

You smiled at the fact that she knew who your teachers were, like an actual mom would, “Yeah,” you said softly, “It is.” 

“Alright, time for cake!” Tony said as he entered the kitchen, holding a cake. He walked over to where you were sitting at the table and placed it in front of you. 

“Oh gosh!” You exclaimed as you looked at the decorative cake in awe, “I love it!” You said as you looked over at Tony.

“You can thank Nat and Bucky for it. They’re the ones who ordered it,” Tony explained, “I just picked it up.” 

You looked back over at Bucky and Nat who were sitting on either side of you, “Thank you,” you said softly. 

“It’s no problem, sweetie,” Natasha said as she placed a small kiss on your temple. “Tony, the candles?” 

“Oh! Right!” He took out some candles from his pocket and placed them on the cake, lighting them up after. 

“These better not be those gag candles,” you warned. 

“No promises,” Tony said with a smirk. 

“Alright!” Bucky exclaimed, “Let’s sing happy birthday.” Everyone gathered around and began singing happy birthday. You looked at all the different faces, people who were called heroes, who didn’t live a normal life, and you were a part of it. You are an Avenger. Your life may never be normal. You may never have that normal family, but you did have a family. Although they weren’t blood, they cared and loved you like a family. Most of all, you had parents. A couple who took you under their wing and somehow, you felt like their child. That's all that mattered. 

Once everyone had a slice of cake, they all went into their own rooms. Leaving you, Bucky, and Natasha in the living room once again. 

“So, back to watching Harry Potter?” you asked as you began to make your way to the couch. 

Natasha cleared her throat, “Actually,” you stopped and turned around, “We have a present for you.” 

“What did I say about presents?” you said as you rolled your eyes. 

“This is different,” Bucky explained, you hadn’t noticed he was holding a yellow envelope, “Here.” 

He handed you the envelope, and you looked at them with a confused expression. You grabbed the envelope and began to open it, “We thought since we’re like a family,” Natasha began to say as you pulled out the papers. 

“And we love you as if you were our own kid,” Bucky added. 

You felt tears begin to well up in your eyes as you read the title of the first page, “Y-you guys w-want to adopt me?” You looked up to see the couple smiling at you. They gave you a soft nod, “Seriously?” 

“Dead serious,” Natasha said as tears formed in her eyes. 

“The papers are all signed; we just need your signature and the judge’s approval,” Bucky said softly. 

“What do you think?” Natasha asked. 

You had no words. You nod your head vigorously as tears began flowing down your cheeks, “Yes!” Natasha let out a relieved breath as she engulfed you into a hug. Bucky soon joined in as well. This was all that mattered. 

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