#i decided to set this before Morgan and Endgame

[andreafmn]

Bound | Chapter 9

Word Count: 3.3K

Summary: Rosalie always carried the resentment of not being able to fulfill the image of the perfect family she had in her head. But the universe had set out to grant her everything she could’ve hoped for in the most unconventional way and in the form of a witch. Can their love withstand the promise of forever or will Rosalie and (Y/N) succumb to the grapples of time?

A/N: next chapter is gonna be steaaaamy decided to cut it here because I needed to update the story like yesterday. But I love them too much (even though I know they are not endgame and I'm literally the writer 😭😭) Can I make fanfiction of my own fanfiction?? *asking for a friend*

<- Previous

Time seemed to move differently in the face of eternity. A year passed by in a flash and (Y/N) would not have noticed had it not been for the absence of Beatrice. 

She had been preparing for a morning class when the mailman slid a letter through her door’s mail slot. She knew it was something that would arrive anytime soon, but she still wasn’t ready for when it did. In her hands rested a forest green envelope with gold lettering and her name staring back at her. Of course (Y/N) knew what it was. But the witch didn’t want to believe it had arrived. 

“You are cordially invited to the soulbinding ceremony between Beatrice Cabot and Russell Morgan,” (Y/N) said with a scoff. “Guess I should have seen this one coming.” 

As the spiteful words left her mouth, the witch found herself regretting them. She had said it in solitude, yet she still felt they had reached her raven-haired friend. The wedding was inevitable. After she had left them behind, it was the normal trajectory of their life. Bea would live, she would marry, she’d have children, she would live. They were all things (Y/N) could not give her, could have never given her. 

The wedding was only a day away when the envelope arrived, and it made her think maybe they didn’t truly want her there. She had probably been invited mostly out of a formality, but by sending it so close to the date, she believed they were hoping she would show up at all. And maybe she wouldn’t. (Y/N) believed that until she turned the paper over. Behind the thick cardboard, in the same perfectly crafted calligraphy, the words ‘Come home’ were written. It was a beacon back, a desperate cry for a last solace. Bea hadn’t pushed her away; she never had. They had merely become victims of time and space, of busy schedules and raying lifestyles. 

But the love? Oh, the love burned bright and hot, lying patiently waiting for the moment it could blaze through everything in its path. Beatrice was (Y/N)’s eternal love. She didn’t know there would be another far greater and far grander. But for the time being, Beatrice was love incarnate for the witch. She was the girl’s first taste of a love so intense it surpassed societal boundaries and predetermined limitations. A love so pure it wasn’t jealous or selfish, greedy or impatient—just love in its most pristine form. 

Before she could think twice, (Y/N) was running through her apartment, searching for that one piece she needed for the celebration. She had been saving it for a special occasion; not that many came around. And this was the most special event of them all. The love of her life had found a version of happy ever after, and that was all she could ever hope for. Bea was going to be happy, and that was enough. 

There, in the very back of her bedroom closet, is where she found it, still enclosed in the box her mother had stored it in. It was the most expensive piece her mother had owned, and it wasn’t even designer. She pulled the sapphire blue gown out from the tissue paper layer, coughing slightly at the smell of it being stored away. Yet, even after so many years, it was as beautiful as the day her mother had made it. 

In those times, the coven had not been doing well financially—no one was—and her mother’s younger sister had caught the eye of a particular rich bachelor in the city. Her wedding was set to be grand. It would even appear in the papers. Her mother was happy for her sister, of course, but she would never be able to afford the dress she had picked for her matron of honor. 

(Y/N) had been twelve then, and she’d witnessed her mother have a discussion with Margaret regarding the matter. The rehearsal dinner alone would put a dent in their finances they didn’t want to spare. Her mother had thought she would either have to ask her sister’s new family for help or not go to the girl’s wedding at all. 

But the older woman had done something neither (Y/L/N) had thought. “I don’t have the money for a new dress,” she had said. “But I do have enough for fabric. Go ahead, get yourself however much you need, and make yourself the most gorgeous gown this coven has ever seen, Nellie. Make those rich people weep with how beautiful you are.” 

“It’s my sister’s wedding, Margaret,” she had smiled with small tears in her eyes. “I can’t upstage her.” 

“She’ll have her entire life to upstage at a party?” Margaret had teased. “She can have a taste for one night.” 

That very afternoon, they went into town and bought yards and yards of sapphire blue satin fabric that looked like real satin. Her mother had set to work the next day, spending hours upon hours working with old and cheap fabric until she had the perfect pattern to follow. Even with the mismatched cotton pieces, (Y/N) had thought the dress was beautiful, a gown fit for a queen. 

“This is just so I don’t mess up the real thing,” her mother had told her as she hemmed the bottom of the practice piece. “This fabric is too beautiful to mess up.” 

“Then, can I keep this one, mommy?” young (Y/N) had asked. “If you’re gonna make yourself another, that is.” 

“Tell you what, little one. The dress will be yours as soon as you grow into it. And I can’t wait to see how beautiful you will be in it.” 

“But where am I going to wear it to?” 

“Wherever you like to, my dear,” she had smiled brightly. “You’re gonna do great things, my dear jewel. This will just become one gown amongst many.” 

Nellie had been right about one thing. (Y/N) did grow into the dress but her mother had not been able to see her in it. Only two years later, her mother passed, and the dress remained in the white box her mother had neatly folded it into for over a decade. 

Finally, (Y/N) had a place to wear the gown, yet her mother still wouldn’t be able to see it. But the most important person in her life would, and that’s what truly mattered to her. The dress would serve a purpose, and, just like her mother had said, she would look beautiful in it. 

After packing any other essentials, the witch left her apartment and did not look back. She took a taxi down to Rice Field, earning herself a weird look from the driver. It wasn’t usual for a single lady to be dropped off in the middle of the woods with a suitcase at midnight. But the man took the money and left—couldn’t have been too worried. (Y/N) needed a big enough body of water and a secluded place, and at that time of night, Rice Field was perfect. 

She made it to the river bank in a couple of minutes, breathing in the fresh air that surrounded her. She allowed the water to call to her, the earth to sing, and the wind to whisper. They called her home, called on her magic, and begged for her abilities. 

Home, they told her. Come home. 

(Y/N) knelt by the edge of the river, sinking her hands into the mud as she muttered her incantation. Just like the water implored, she thought of home. She painted the image of Bea in her mind and the Bound Souls’ Bank right behind her. The witch felt the pull toward her home through her limbs, saw the reflection of her river in the water, heard the singing of her birds and trees. 

Home, they told her. Come home. 

The bottom of the river opened up, revealing the portal toward her land. She slung her suitcase over her shoulder and took one step forward, allowing herself to sink into the water. Her body was enveloped in air, surrounded by water, but not a single drop touched her skin. 

Home, she felt. She was going home. 

She walked in darkness for a few seconds, her mind clear about where to go. Water travel wasn’t something she frequented. Given the amount of magical energy it required, she couldn’t do it more than just a few times without depleting her magic for a long time. But this moment required travel faster than any human could create. 

Home. She needed to come home. 

Complete darkness soon turned into sparkling lights in the night sky, into rustling leaves, into a babbling river with a waterfall a hundred feet away. She recognized the smells, the sounds, the sights. From every ripple in the water to every rock on the edge, she knew this place like the back of her hand. Including the girl who had fallen asleep a few feet away. 

On a patch of grass, Bea rested her head on her crossed arms, her eyes fluttering under the weight of sleep. She always looked younger when she slept, but (Y/N) could tell just how much a single year had already transformed her. There were more than just three white hairs on her raven mane, she had new dark circles under her eyes, and the lines on her face had deepened ever so slightly. Yet, her beauty remained. In the witch’s eyes, she was the perfect woman she had fallen for in her teenage years. 

“Darling,” (Y/N) whispered as she shook the girl softly. “Darling, wake up.” 

The younger woman opened her eyes softly, a smile spreading across her mouth as her sights were set on the witch above her. “You’re here,” Beatrice beamed, wrapping her arms tightly around (Y/N)’s neck. “You’re finally home. I thought you weren’t coming.” 

“As if I’d ever miss this for the world,” she chuckled softly. “I just got the letter today. I would have been sooner if I could have.” 

“I waited here every day for two months since we sent the letters,” Bea said. “Something told me I should wait longer today, but I fell asleep while waiting.” 

“That’s alright, darling,” (Y/N) smiled as she caressed her soft cheek. “I’m here now. That’s all that matters.” 

Bea remained quiet as she stared at the woman before her. Tears had formed in the corners of her eyes, glimmering under the light of the moon. They fell promptly down her cheeks, faster and faster, before either could stop them from coming. It seemed as though everything she had been holding inside was making its way out to the surface and wouldn’t stop until it was done.

“I’m getting married, (Y/N),” the younger witch whimpered. “Tomorrow, I’ll be Mrs. Russell Morgan. Beatrice Morgan.” 

“I know, my darling,” she sighed defeatedly. “But what’s the matter? Is he not treating you right? Are you okay?” 

“Oh, no. He treats me wonderfully. Russell is honestly a man designed by the very gods,” Bea chuckled softly. “But he’s not you. I do love him and care for him immensely, but he’s simply not you.” 

“Beatrice…”

“I know. I know I was the one that pushed you away, and we both know it was the right decision,” she sighed. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t miss you with every fiber of my being. You are embedded into my heart and my soul. You are and always will be the one keeper of my love.”

“Bea…”

“Just be mine,” the witch whispered, leaving a kiss on the skin of (Y/N)’s neck. “For one last night, tell me I’m yours and that you are mine. Possess me, own me, claim me. Just this one last time.” 

“Bea, you belong to somebody else now,” (Y/N) muttered. She was trying her best to remain strong for them both. When it came to Beatrice, she was weak, and it wouldn’t take much convincing to fall back in her arms. “Russell is a good man, and I will not allow you to ruin that for yourself.”

“He knows, (Y/N),” Bea stated. “He knows my heart has long been taken from my body. He understands the love I have for you is different than the love I have for him. Russell knows about this proposition—I would never keep this from him.”

“How can I be sure that he truly is okay with this?” 

“May the Great Goddess strike me down right now if I am lying to you,” Beatrice exclaimed. There was no lightning, no thunder, no earth-breaking moment that would say otherwise. “Russell and I have great communication, (Y/N). He knows that my heart aches because you are away. He knows you are the greatest love I have known in this lifetime and the next. He knows that if I don’t do this, there is no way our marriage could ever go on. “Tell me I have you, (Y/N),” she cried. “Tell me I still have you, or I fear I may never breathe again.” 

(Y/N) remained silent for a moment. The woman she loved was on her knees, begging for the same love she had pushed away only a year before. Beatrice had told her to go, to leave her behind and start her new life—she would do the same. She had understood it was the right thing to do because it was what Bea had asked of her. Bea had told her to let go, to forget, to renew. She had told her to live. 

And yet, there she was, pleading for the love she had pushed away. How could (Y/N) refuse? 

“I don’t know how you could ever think that you lost me,” (Y/N) smiled, trapping her worried face between her hands in a gentle caress. “For as long as we both live, you will have me, Beatrice Cabot. My heart belongs to you. My lips belong to you. My soul belongs to you. You are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars. And you, my dear Beatrice, you belong to me too.” 

Bea was too overwhelmed to speak. Instead, she pressed her lips onto (Y/N)’s, whimpering slightly at the touch. A year had felt like an eternity without her—a cruel reminder of what the rest of her life would be. She didn’t delude herself. She knew one day the other witch would come to forget her, at least the love they shared. Forever was far too long, and (Y/N) would one day meet the soul bound to hers. Even if she didn’t forget her, it was inevitable that she would no longer be the love of her life. Moments such as these would be fleeting for the now immortal witch, but they would mean the whole world to Beatrice. 

“Take me home,” Bea whimpered as she clung to the woman’s coat. “Take me home, (Y/N).” 

The older witch took the young woman’s hand, helping her up from the ground while grabbing her suitcase with the other. They ran through the woods, down the same path they had taken since they had been little girls. Branches smacked against their skin, leaves tickling their limbs as they passed, luring laughter from their throats. 

Soon enough, they reached (Y/N)’s old cabin, the very place it had all begun—the place where she’d had all of her firsts. From her birth down to her first kiss, even where she had first taken Bea to bed. It was the place where, no matter how much time passed, she could always call home. No matter how much society advanced, she knew the village would withstand the changes of time, and her home would always stand tall and strong, waiting for her return. 

(Y/N) was sure she’d find a layer of dust covering everything she owned and was surprised to see it all in pristine condition. “You’ve been cleaning,” she smiled. “You even removed the sheets.” 

“If I’m honest, I removed them the very day you left,” Bea said sheepishly. “I couldn’t stand seeing the house abandoned.”

“I love it,” she beamed. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” the girl smiled. “I love you more than there are words to describe.” 

(Y/N) couldn’t bear being apart from Beatrice any longer. Closing the door behind her, she dropped her suitcase to the ground and crashed her lips back onto hers. Unlike their kiss at the river, this one was desperate. It was the kiss of a woman starved—starved of connection, of affection, of love and passion. It was the answer to a silent prayer. More than a kiss, it was a covenant. An agreement between two souls that yearned for each other. The moment would come to pass, opportunity would cease to appear before them, but the love would burn brightly for as long as they fed it. 

After tasting her mouth and rediscovering every corner she had claimed once, (Y/N) moved to Bea’s jaw, followed by her neck. She knew her body like her own. There was not a spot she had forgotten about. The raven-haired girl moaned as the witch kissed her right below the ear, just as she had done for years. (Y/N) nipped at the skin, smiling as she drew out the melodious tunes from the girl’s throat. Bea snaked her hands into her hair, pulling at it as the other gave her a particular sharp bite. It took everything inside her not to look at Bea’s surprised face, choosing instead to relish in the sweet taste of her skin before traveling further south. 

(Y/N) kissed her way down Bea’s chest, stopping just above the hem of her nightgown where the top of her breast was exposed. That was the moment she noticed the other woman’s attire. Bea had forgone outside clothing and had been waiting in the cold of fall in nothing but a nightgown and a robe. Until then, she hadn’t even noticed just how cold her skin had felt, finding the temperature comfortable enough. “You could have frozen out there,” she worried. “You should have at least worn a coat.” 

“I drank a warming tincture before I left,” Bea assured. “Russell insisted I did.” 

“He really does care for you,” (Y/N) muttered, her tone coming out sadder than she intended. 

“He cares for your happiness as well, my darling,” she smiled, placing her hand under (Y/N)y’s chin so their eyes could meet. “I promise you, he is in accordance with this arrangement. We spent a very long time talking about it. All he wants is for me to be happy, and he knows you make me happy. I’m telling you, he is a man written by the very gods.” 

“I just feel like I’m betraying his friendship. Even betraying you in a way,” the witch admitted. “You’re supposed to marry him tomorrow. You’re going to be bound to him for the rest of your life, and yet, here we are, already breaking the easiest of vows.” 

“We are not breaking anything, (Y/N),” she reassured. “Do you need to hear it come from his mouth? He does not mind this, darling. I would never lie to you.”  

“But…” 

“Just give me tonight,” Beatrice implored. “If you do not feel comfortable after the wedding, then I understand. But I have not stood before him and the Great Goddess yet to make my vows. Tonight, I am as free as the day is young. Tonight, I am allowed to change my mind about marriage if that is what I choose to do.” The girl took hold of (Y/N)’s hand, giving her a comforting squeeze before laying a chaste kiss on her lips. “Stop worrying, my darling. Just give me tonight.” 

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[stevetonyisendgame]

It's the first day of work reveals for A Second Chance: A Steve/Tony Endgame Mini-Exchange and we have 8 fics and 1 artwork today!

Thank you to all participants - we’re so excited to share all these beautiful gifts with you! Enjoy and remember to leave kudos/comments for our hardworking creators to show your appreciation!! ❤️

A reminder to our dear creators that you can change the publication date of your works now that they have been revealed, so that they appear on the first page of the tags!

1. as easy as breathing for purpleicedteas | ART - T

things aren't easy after thanos but steve and tony have each other.

2. In Our Hands for CapBlondette | FIC - 1.6k, T

Memories slowly appeared in his mind. The battle. The way he’d taken the gauntlet from Thanos. Peter who was suddenly by his side. And Steve. The snap. But not much after. He only remembered the blinding light and the power in his hand, as well as the pain.

3. I Tell You That I Think I'm Falling (Back in Love with You) for tinystark616 | FIC - 6.3k, E

When Tony said “I have to get it out of the garage before Morgan takes it sledding.” as he gave the shield back to Steve, not in a million years the thought it would actually happen. Yet there it was, right in front of him, ‘the one that got away’ playing with his daughter in the snow, shield by their side dutifully waiting for them to get back on top of it.

4. Endgame, Not Checkmate for Herogers | FIC - 8.6k, T

“Tony?” Steve asks as Tony immediately taps his screen to life, calling up the specs for what looks like a new set of his nanite armour.  “Um… aren’t you going to take it easy for a while?” Tony frowns at Steve over the top of the screen.  “Ah, no?  Why would I do that?” “Maybe because you almost died?” Steve blurts out.  “I mean, just yesterday you were—!” “Yeah, you're right,” Tony cuts in.  “But that was yesterday.  And since now it’s today, and, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine, then I need to get back to working on some stuff.” He shoots Steve a grin, like that somehow makes it okay.  “You're welcome to stay and watch if you want.” Against all odds, the Avengers have beaten Thanos. But when Tony fails to see that victory for what it is, Steve decides the only way to get him to see reason is to confess the secret he’s been harbouring for way too long.

5. the things we held on to for ishipallthings | FIC - 790, G

Tony finds out that Steve still has his flip-phone when they're preparing for the time-heist

6. Remember What I Said. for enragedbisexual | FIC - 2.4k, M

Tony and Steve have had to be quiet for more than one reason over the years. Maybe they will get some privacy now the Universe is saved?

7. Real Life for xWinterDreamsx | FIC - 1k, T

“Are we going to talk about that kiss?” Of course it’s Tony who is brave enough to bring it up. --- Tony and Steve both retire after the events of endgame, but they have some unfinished business to take care of.

8. No Lies From The Trusted for navaan | FIC - 17.8k, M

Finding himself in a world where Iron Man has just emerged Steve discovers the unexpected consequences to time travel. Stuck with a new identity, a new life, and an unexpected relationship, some consequences are more complicated than others.

9. hold fast for VenomousSoliloquy | FIC - 1.3k, T

“What?” Steve asks finally, putting down his pencil and staring right back at Tony. “Nothing,” Tony says. Then he reaches out and thumbs at the corner of Steve’s mouth, eyes crinkling when Steve’s eyes go very wide. “So serious, you.”

[darsynia]

do you take requests? if so, I’d like to formally request reader comforting Tony and just showering him in praise because he truly deserves it and we never see him get treated like that in the movies

it can end with smut if you’d like, up to you 🫶🏻

Summary: Tony Stark was a broken, angry man after he survived his snap to save the universe, but you've brought him back to life slowly, carefully, lovingly. He comes home with bad news after a meeting with his doctor, and you offer him as much comfort and encouragement as you can. Warnings: hurt/comfort, toxic anger, mentions of amputation (story is set post-Endgame) Pairings: Tony Stark/GN!Reader Word Count: 3,171

Thank you so much for your request! I've updated the layout of this story and hope that you did see it back when it was posted.

Build Me a Cocoon So I Can Crawl Inside Your Love

Tony’s back from the specialist’s appointment he didn’t want to let you come along for, and he looks really discouraged. The gamma radiation damage had required an amputation above the elbow. It was a strategic choice, designed to offer the best possible outcome for prosthetics. The problem is, it hasn’t been healing well enough to be fitted yet, and by the look on his face, that’s still the case.

Every time he goes in to be assessed, the fitting date is pushed back, and Tony comes home feeling some kind of way. This time he’s sad, resigned even, which you suppose is better than when he was angry and ready to burn off enough flesh to start over. Tony Stark’s righteous anger is hard to refute, but his sadness? It breaks your heart.

You’d met Tony after the heroics, after the messy divorce, after the custody battle. He was never a man who knew how best to heal, and healing the whole universe of its colossal loss was meant to kill him. When it didn’t, he… didn’t handle that very well. 

If you had been a home health nurse, one of the court-ordered psychologists, or even among the number of Morgan’s many home tutors (the daughter of the savior of the universe was too valuable to go to regular school, one of the things Pepper and Tony had fought over, with Tony on the side of ‘I know what boarding school and isolation does to a rich kid, you cannot do this to our daughter.’ He’d lost.), Tony would never have given you the time of day. He wants nothing at all to do with anything from before, not even by association.

No, you’re an artist. He’d run into you completely by accident on one of the worst days of his new life, though the events did end up creating an accidental bond. In a bid to completely revamp his life, Tony had been spending time at national parks, and, woefully unprepared for the heat, he’d stumbled into your day camp set up. You’d fed and watered him, but then he’d had a phantom pain attack, and in response, an attack of temper.

“-- not expect to spend the rest of my life in this much fucking PAIN!” Tony had roared, his remaining hand scrabbling at the knot made out of the empty bottom half of his right sleeve, trying to untie it. You’d come over to help, and in blind frustration, he’d shoved you away, probably remembering someone else, someone who made him feel guilty for being angry.

You’d fallen back into your easel, your ass sliding across your unfinished art, ruining many hours of work.

There was no way you wanted to make things worse for him-- after all, he was the reason you got some of the people you loved most in the world back! --so you’d tried to minimize the damage. They were only things, after all, and you could recreate what you lost. The two of you had quarantined yourselves at either side of your camp, each tending to your own ‘wounds.’ In all honesty, you’d expected him to walk off, but he hadn’t.

An indeterminate number of minutes later, after you’d cleaned everything up and were trying to decide how best to carry it back down to your car, Stark’s left hand thrust into view. He was holding a piece of paper, a receipt, it looked like, with some information scrawled onto the back of it.

“Figure out how much that all cost and I’ll reimburse you. Send me a message on that. It’s private, so,” Tony had heaved a sigh, then continued, “--don’t share--”

“Are you kidding?” you’d said, covering his shaking hand with yours instinctively, to steady it. “I wouldn’t dream of making your life worse, after all you’ve done!”

“Please.” You can still remember his voice, how weary he’d sounded. “No Thanos.”

“Yeah, I’m with you there. Fuck that guy,” you had blurted. “I meant your inventions, the prosthetics! Not just that, but in three months you’ve revolutionized the entire industry, created a whole new sweat-wicking fabric-- can I ask you?” You’d turned around, still holding onto his hand like a complete idiot, too excited to realize you were holding him physically captive. “Is it the same stuff you came up with for Banner? Because that is just genius-- though, I guess I don’t need to tell you that! You’ve always been a genius. I bet you have fifty hard drives full of that kind of stuff, really useful inventions, but people like Obediah Stane and the jerks in the army weren’t ever willing to listen.”

Tony had just blinked at you, a tiny, molecule-thick smile forming on his lips. You knew he’d been in self-destruct mode for months, but impossibly, you did not choose that moment to keep your mouth shut.

“I’m sorry you’re in such pain still. I follow tech news but don’t know much about the actual process, but that’s even more amazing, you know that, right? Pain saps creativity, and so does sadness. You’ve done all that while you’re hurt and miserable? True hero, I swear it.”

“Are you for real?” he had asked, his face a mix of consternation and reluctant happiness. “No one put you up to this? Rhodey?”

“No offense, Mr. Stark, but if War Machine flew my ass up here to make you feel better, do you think I’d have the guts to tell you that?”

It’s been ten months, the first six of which had been full of affectionate-antagonistic messages sent back and forth, sometimes with large gaps. You hadn’t wanted to take payment, he’d insisted, and you’d both found creative ways to either send money or send the sent money back, right up until the time he’d found out you were about to become homeless.

Tony Stark had moved you into his house. He’d risked the headlines, the speculation, the condemnation, and done it anyway. It didn’t feel like billionaire behavior at the time, and it still doesn’t now that you’re in the clandestine relationship the media speculated about. It felt like something someone does because they love you.

You’re not sure you’ll ever get over that. You don’t want to.

Even so, he’s hard to live with sometimes, even especially on days like this. You almost miss the anger. His attitude today feels like resigned, miserable acceptance, the thing he’d already gone through when he’d lost custody of Morgan to Pepper. You two had already hashed that out, and he’d agreed he wasn’t any kind of parent, might not be for a while. He’d tried to say he wasn’t any kind of partner, and you’d spent a few nights specifically proving that was bullshit.

Sometimes you want to scream at the whole world. To you, Tony Stark is the best of them, because he didn’t have an unassailable moral code. He hadn’t been a model of perfect humanity, and he still isn’t. And still he’d saved everyone. He’d saved people on planets ‘hitherto undreamt of,’ to quote an interaction he’d be upset you’d found out about. You’d thought about trying to rehabilitate his relationships with the people from Before, but it’s going to take a few more years of love, affection, and encouragement to get him there.

It used to be one step forward and four steps back, but now it’s more the reverse. He’s thriving, and you know it’s because he’s getting to hear the good things first, instead of constant critique.

“You’re too quiet,” Tony says from the couch.

“I was gathering rose petals,” you lie. It’s a running joke between you, but one of these days you’ll actually do it, set up a bath or something, knock his socks off.

“Please say it’s for some kind of mind-numbing tea that lets me skip forward a few days,” he groans, scrubbing his hand over his face. “I need the stronger painkillers. I know I said I wouldn’t--”

“Hey, hey,” you soothe, coming over with the pills already in hand.

Tony makes the same face he always does when you anticipate his needs. It’s surprised, pleased, even confused, but the percentages have steadily changed to be more pleased, less confused, and almost never surprised anymore. That’s progress.

You sit on the arm of the couch, next to his residual limb, and he frowns up at you.

“Don’t think I don’t notice that you keep doing that.”

“Do what?” You know, but you want him to address it.

His glare is sexy as hell, but you push your desire back and focus on his emotional state. In your head, you’re cheering him on, and maybe he can feel it, because he says, “I can’t touch you with my hand over there. Not without twisting around.”

You run your hand through his hair to soften his reaction to your response, and thrill at the rumbling ‘mmmm’ sound he makes. “Because I love all of you. If I don’t shy away from your pissy attitude when you’re an entire grump, I’m not going to shy away from--”

For the first time since you’ve been together, he reaches out with his right arm and sweeps you off of the arm of the couch and onto his lap. You try not to react, try not to show how important the moment is, but Tony’s looking right at you, and he can tell something’s up.

“Really?” he says, shaking his head in confusion like you’re some sort of bizarre cryptid.

“You never touch me with your right side on purpose,” you say carefully.

He leans down to kiss you, and it’s not a lust kiss, it’s gratitude, and something about it is sweetly calming. You can tell he got bad news today, but he’ll tell you when he’s up for it, and until then, you can show him he’s loved. When the kiss ends, he leans his head in the direction of the bedroom, and you nod. 

It’s mid afternoon, but the blackout curtains on the windows lend an air of evening finality to the room, which you maintain by putting on a small, dim lamp by the bed. Tony changes out of his formal clothes while you watch appreciatively, and when he’s in his sweats, he walks over and lets himself fall onto the bed.

“Fuck,” he says. “Would it be crazy to just--”

“Sleep?” you finish with him. In response, Tony hugs you to him, and you kiss his chest. “Alarm?”

“No, I’ve figured out you’re mostly harmless by now,” he jokes, the words broken up by a ferocious yawn.

The two of you wake up in a jumble. Tony’s rolled over and thrown his right leg possessively over your hip. He’s awake, as it happens, and when you meet his eyes, he gives a little tug of his left arm, which you’ve been sleeping on. The two of you adjust, which mostly means you end up facing each other, each on your own pillow pile.

“Did the nap help any?” you whisper.

“Always and never,” he says back, and you get it. Some things just… stay broken.

Girding yourself mentally for a negative reaction, you reach up and set your left hand against the spiderweb of scars on the right side of his face.

“I have wanted to say this for months, but every time I thought about it, I recognized that you were too hurt, too full of distorted, hateful thinking to accept it.”

He breaks in, his wry expression undergirded with iron. “You’re so sure I’m ready to hear you now? After the news I got?” You can feel the tightness to his jaw under your fingertips, and you lean over to kiss it away. The way the tension eases almost as soon as your lips brush against his skin is answer enough.

“Yes.” You slide your hand down to rest against his chest, partly to feel the steady beat of his heart. “Your father did too little too late, and it’s okay to acknowledge that.”

“You’re starting there? I need a drink,” he teases, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, and his leg doesn’t tense up like he’s ready to get up and run away from what you’re saying.

“Hell yes I’m starting there. You watched me try to live up to my friends’ expectations, do you remember what you said?”

His lips twitch with reluctant amusement. “I said ‘those fuckers want to make you into the friend they want, not the friend they already have.”

“Exactly.”

“Point taken,” Tony grunts. “Next?”

“It’s not your fault that you made things that were misused by people with shitty intentions.”

He turns in bed, shifting so he can lay on his back. You cuddle up, rest your head on his shoulder. “And when those people were the government?” he asks.

“What’s the alternative? Watching them self destruct with Hammer’s shit? When you saw the weapons dealing get too far, you cut it off. You lost a ton of money. You gotta let that go, Tony. You were misled, you lived the life you thought you were meant to, right up until you didn’t.”

“Noted.”

You skip over some things. They’ll keep, and the last thing you want to do is have him sit there worrying about what you’re going to say next.

“Last one for now: that thing with the nuclear warhead and the Chitauri is the most heroic thing you’ve ever done,” you say, scooting impossibly closer. He’s gonna challenge this one.

Tony’s scorn as he turns his head to look at you is palpable, as expected.

“Hear me out: it was amazing that you built the suit for the stones, ok? But you had time to figure that out. You decided about that ahead of time. You had the choice. But the nuke? You just worked on instinct. Do you understand how amazing that was? You knew you could do it and you did it-- and you were afraid. You were terrified, Tony. That’s heroism.” His jaw is working like his teeth can’t settle against each other, and you run your fingertips through the too-long hair spilling over onto his forehead. “You also sat through that even though you wanted me to shut up.”

“True.”

“You want to tell me more about your day?”

“Not even a little bit,” he grins, but you start rubbing comfort along his chest, kissing his shoulder, and he sighs. “They’re going to take more off. Reset the stump, basically. They say that will give it a better chance of actually healing, so I can end up with something I can actually do something useful with.”

“You’ve got a million ideas for prosthetics for your suit, don’t you?” you guess. “It dawns on you that this is the issue. He hasn’t been himself without the fucking Iron Man suit, because even though it’ll conform to him, it’s not pain free until his arm heals. Tony’s been knocked back to larval form for over a year.

This whole time you thought he wasn’t doing anything with the suit because it nearly killed him, because it reminds him of Before, but that’s not it at all. Tony Stark’s suit has always been his saving grace, and he hasn’t really been himself without it.

You extricate yourself and sit up. “Holy shit.”

“Now what?” he says, vulnerable, irritated.

“This is it, this is the thing we’ve been waiting for. When did they say they’re going to do the surgery?”

“You’re excited about this?”

You stand up, too full of energy and excitement to stay still. “Tony, you’re not seeing the big picture! You’re, you’re…” You light on it, a remnant of the very few visits he still has with Morgan. That light at the end of the tunnel is so distant as to be physically painful, but you go for it, because he needs this hope, and so do you. “You’re like a cross between the seventeen-year cicadas and the Very Hungry Caterpillar, Tony!”

He’s shaking his head, sitting up in bed, hand going to massage his stump, brows furrowed.

“The suit! You’ve been exiled from it, right? Because it hurts. It hurts to leave your most vulnerable part exposed and unarmored, and the effort it takes to be the old you long enough to code it to account for what’s missing hurts too. It’s been symbolic, all this time, right?”

His left hand is fisted in his lap, and his jaw is tight, but Tony nods.

“You’ve been buried in the ground without it, it’s the only place you’re safe.” You’re probably pushing the metaphor too far, but you love this beautiful, glorious genius, and it’s not your fault you weren’t smart enough to figure this out before. “You had to heal your heart first, in order to have enough physical capital to heal your arm. You had to be willing to give something up for both-- your privacy, your right to avoid being vulnerable around someone else. Literal inches of the precious amount of arm you have left.”

“Breathe, will you? You’re turning purple,” he teases. It’s a deflection, but a gentle one. You can tell he wants you to continue, even if he can’t bring himself to admit it.

“It’s almost time to come up from the ground, Tony-- and honestly? I think if that arm of yours took less time to heal, you might actually have trashed the rest of your suits. You needed the time. And now, you can turn into a fucking IRON BUTTERFLY. You can already make that suit do anything. Fuck actual prosthetics-- as soon as you figure out the best way to pad out your stump, the sky’s the actual--” you break off and tear up.

Tony gets up, comes over, pulls you close. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what the fuck are you--”

“You haven’t flown. Since you snapped. You love to fly.” You’re fucking inconsolable. Tony’s toxic fury has led you to compartmentalize everything about his life Before, but it’s part of him, and if you’d have just made those connections earlier--

Tony’s got his hand on your face, walking you back to the door of the bedroom, and now he’s kissing you. It’s tender, forgiving, and despite yourself, you cling to him, your guilt slipping through your fingers no matter how hard you try to grip it. 

“Goddamnit, Tony!” you whisper when he shifts his lips to your cheek.

“You called me a butterfly. This is self defense.”

You sniffle defensively. “You’re a beautiful butterfly, Tony. An Iron Monarch.”

“Not yet, I’m not. But you’re going to fucking drag me there, aren’t you?” He sounds pissed, but for one of the first times since you’ve known him, it’s not a toxic anger. It’s the kind of angry you get when you’re loved so much you’re given what you need, not just what you want.

“You’d better fucking believe it,” you say.

[verlysgaminglife]

GS-Jack’s route 25

 ya’ll knew this man would have to guest start in Jack’s route eventually.  Caissa decided to visit while Jack was recovering.   it’s obvious that Jack and Cai are besties.  He’s for just more than just Cai’s bodyguard. :) 

nah, this guy has a bleeding heart. ;D

a decision on “mindbombs” 

Morgan tells Cai about the strange occurrences that are happening around the court.

they mentioned the previous events in meeting Rory. 

(by the way when it goes into detail of the ‘him” they are referring to I don’t mind tagging it as spoilers. I know that some of this small fandom still want that all kept under wraps. ) 

then they talk about Cai being nice enough to send messages back and forth between Morgan and her family and about our Jackie boy. :D

well, he IS a Rook.  they take a bit of a beating. lol

as I said, Morgan is a smart girl. I love her for it. 

this is one of the reason I like Jack so much.  I *do* know that the Endgame guys have their own reason for why they had to do what they did and we’ll get there on this blog once we get to their routes, but I love this about Jack. it does set him apart from the others. 

as I said, besties. 

I don’t think I’ve pointed out before, but I LOVE how expressive Morgan can be without even speaking. :D  her eyes going wide when Cai said this was something else. 

[titaniumforged-blog]

If there was one thing that Tony had always wanted to experience . . . it was Disney. His dad had never taken him. What was a staple for many children growing up and been overlooked in his case. Once he had gotten into MIT, Disney had seemed a waste of time. He wanted girls and drinks by then. After graduation, he was hurtled right into running the family business. He’d had to grow up quickly. 

Yet, after seeing an advertisement for the famous amusement park, he’d felt the need strike him to his very marrow. It was time for Tony Stark, and the rest of the Avengers, to go to Disney. After all, they had just saved the world from his bungle with Ultron. They needed a vacation. 

Because Tony wanted to do Disney the right way, he had decided to Disney Bound, in which you dress in clothes similar to a character from Disney without blatantly dressing as the character. Today, he was doing Flynn Rider, and thus wore a simple shirt with a blue vest over it. He looked damn good, if he said so himself. Of course, no outfit was ever complete for him without a matching pair of sunglasses. 

“Come here, Pepper,” he said once they entered the park. It was, essentially, empty since he had bought the park out. It’d cost him a shit ton but . . . they deserved it. “You have such fine skin, you need to be protected.” A tube of sunscreen rested in his hand, and he squirted just a little bit onto his finger and began to rub it into her face. 

“So, baby, what’s the first thing you want to do? Have you been here before? Because I haven’t, and I am a little . . . well . . . overwhelmed. There’s a lot.”

@irnwoman

[worstloki]

*wakes up in the middle of the night* no but when Loki was offering Thor the throne at the end of The Dark World as Odin he said one son wanted the throne too much while another would not take it but in that moment neither Thor nor Loki wanted the position because now both know the burdens that come with it and how Odin had ruled and Loki hadn’t ever wanted the throne for itself but to be an equal to Thor and in Thor 1 Thor had been impatient and arrogant and started a war over being denied his place as King so the phrase not only doubles over to call Thor out on flaws he now himself admits to since there is only one Odinson but it is also an open admission that he himself sitting there right now does not want the crown because he is ‘another’ and Odin’s legacy in the end, right there, right then in that scene was amounting to neither son wanting to be a part of what Odin had built through his imperialist practices (even if Thor was only just coming to terms with that) and through disregarding the lives of others and that’s something both sons, Thor included, now sees and THEN Thor replies with how he’s try to live with honour as Loki died and acknowledges them both on equal footing which is all Loki had wanted and hearing “Is that not legacy enough?” before being offered the hammer, the fr*ckin hammer that Odin had put between them to declare Thor more worthy, and Loki declines taking it from Thor because he never wanted to drag Thor down or take the throne from him but just having it was the chance to prove that he wasn’t less and it reflects how now he doesn’t even see the need to compete and he finally thinks his brother is capable of ruling well without starting wars and suddenly there’s no one who wants the dumb chair just Loki knowing that he doesn’t need to be Thor and Thor taking the time to reflect on himself and admit that the brother he knew and cared for was still there and hoping to make himself equal to Loki and Loki who still looks up to Thor and it’s the perfect complementary half to the way their developments in Thor 1/Avengers 1 had them mirroring each other and taking the place the other was in because now they’re both on the same side and they got there themselves and the words of their shared antagonist “our survival will be your legacy” apply to Thor and Loki too because Frigga died and Odin isn’t to be looked up to as a pillar of strength and what these two brothers have is a relationship that was put through the blender because of secrets and lies but neither cares for that because even when he thinks him dead Thor sees Loki’s worth and Loki knows the death effected him enough to try and change more and now Thor is rejecting his birthright and just handing it to Loki without knowing it’s him but it’s the same birthright that Loki had argued with Odin on only earlier and so you have both of them who would take up the responsibility but doesn’t see it as their place and that’s why Thor and Loki working together from the get-go when more secrets and lies came forth in Ragnarok with Odin’s actual death should have been the natural progression in both of their arcs and in reconciling their relationship they should have either shared or abolished the throne by the end of the trilogy because literally one person would want the throne and it would be Hela as a symbol for what Odin stood for which only makes Thor’s role as an inheritor of a colonial empire trying to make amends and Loki’s role as the colonized relevant again from Thor 1 and should have tied the loose ends up with Mjolnir’s destruction having no significant impact because it also stood as a symbol of the wedge drawn between Thor and Loki which they already shared sentiment enough with each other to have agreed on as not a determiner of worth and this makes Endgame even worse because Thor has fallen back on letting the hammer be an indication of worth while avoiding acknowledgement of Loki at all while also being King after the both of them already expressed no interest in having the position and they were finally so close to being seen as equals in each other’s eyes and were respecting each other and both had decided to move on from the ideas they had been raised on and only had each other left because they always end up with each other again and 

[uselesssomebody]

𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕓𝕪𝕖, 𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕖𝕝𝕕 - steve rogers x reader

complete masterlist | mcu masterlist | steve rogers masterlist

“𝕚’𝕧𝕖 𝕝𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕒𝕞𝕓𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕝𝕕𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕚𝕞

𝕚 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕓𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖”

- i don't want to set the world on fire | the ink spots

words || 𝟙.𝟙𝕜

summary || in which steve gets his priorities straight

a/n || re-watched endgame and have a massive hate boner for what steve did at the end. that, paired with my normal boner for chris evans birthed this fic. enjoy! and request if any one has something. ➵ originally called ‘i don't want to set the world on fire’

warnings || fluff

the sun shone over my eyes as i attempted to keep my focus on the book in front of me. it was a new one, steve must have picked it up in the - well, in the 5 years i apparently hadn’t been here.

god, that’s insane.

being gone for five years - seeing everyone so different. bruce’s change was the oddest - but seeing pepper and morgan had also been shocking. i choked through tony’s funeral, paying homage to nat as well - at least, i tried to get to everybody in the short time since the battle.

i’d found myself, after all this time, sitting right on the bed i’d disappeared - died - at. i’d found it odd - almost as if i’d just woken up from a long nap, but didn’t think too much of it. what was even odder was steve’s frantic voice through my phone - the device jumping and vibrating on our bedside table. i’d picked it up leisurely, assuming he’d been calling to tell me to order some food, or to tell me he’d be back in a bit.

“hello? hello, y/n, are you there?” i blinked a little at the aggressiveness of the question.

“yeah, steve, i am. ‘s everything alright?” i heard him let out a long sigh - still confused as all hell - before he laughed lightly.

“oh, thank fucking god.” i barely heard him swear, so it shocked me - further indicating something was amiss.

“steve, are you good - where are you?”

“i’m on my way, sweetheart. just - talk to me, will ya?” i scrunched my nose.

“talk to you - about what?”

“anything - just needa hear your voice.” i sighed, hesitantly talking about what we could order for dinner when he got back.

he stayed quiet, letting me speak.

he’d explained everything that night. it’d been a week, and i still couldn’t get over it. but, had been standing in front of me - more weary than i’d ever seen him - with some of the worst battle wounds i’d also ever seen.

that told me that he had to be telling the truth. he’d refrained from telling me specifics - especially casualties - for another few days, but finally conceded when i realized he’d avert his gaze every time i mentioned nat or tony.

he was a different man - he’d become a different man over the past few years. but, when he held my hand over the table as we ate dinner, i knew he was still my steve.

he’d left early in the morning, saying that there were just a few more things that he had to do before we put the nightmare behind us. i’d asked - repeatedly - to come, but he’d said no every single time. he’d sighed softly as i kissed him goodbye, muttering a worrying amount of ‘i love you’s in my ear as he left.

and, just like that, i was back to worrying about him instead of reading my book. deciding the endeavor was fruitless, i started weighing my options as to how to pass the time, when i heard the front door click open once more.

i walk towards the door slowly, and - he looks tired. other than that - i distinctly remembered him leaving the house with his shield. he had returned empty handed. i stopped my pondering as his eyes finally met mine, and he softly smiled. i sighed softly - my mind had conjured all sorts of worrying scenarios - but, here he was. in one piece. i let myself fall into his chest as his arms collapsed around my back. we stayed there for a moment, before i broke away.

“you scared me.” his smile widened.

“i’m good at that.” i laughed a little, walking inside as he followed.

the evening was normal, save for a solemness that steve tried to hide every time i talked to him.

i finally cornered him on the couch after dinner, climbing onto the cushions beside him.

“steve?” he hummed in response, running his fingers through my hair absentmindedly, “where’d you leave that shield?” his fingers tensed in my hair, and i turned to look up at him.

“what’re you talking about?”

“i know something’s bothering you. and i know you didn’t come back with that shield. what’s got great, big captain america so riled up?” i say the last bit teasingly, poking him lightly in the chest.

“no - i…” he started speaking, but stopped just as quickly, “i’m not captain america anymore.” the confession made my eyes widen.

for all the time we’d been together - the captain america that steve represented had been key part of his life, one that took priority over everything else.

at least, that’s what i thought.

“you - you what?” he sighed deeply, adjusting us so we were facing each other on the couch.

“i’ve done my service, sweetheart. i couldn’t do it forever.” i nodded slowly.

“but,” i tried to be soft, non-judgmental. i wasn’t judging him at all, really, just genuinely curious, “i thought you were captain america. and he was you.” he sighed.

“no - well, he was. god, there was a time where i was nothing without that shield. but, now - i think i realized something.” i stay quiet, prompting him to continue, “i was living for so much more than that shield. and i was neglecting everything else because of it. i guess, i had to lose my everything to realize she meant so much more to me than it.” i’m nodding along, until the last bit. i try to process it, before my mouth falls. i look up, and he’s got a shy smile on his face, “i lost you. and i realized that i needed you more than anything. that would’ve never been the case with the shield, so…” he trails off, and i’m still looking at him in shock. i’m torn between wanting to tackle him into an embrace, or berate him for his priorities. i finally found my voice.

“don’t tell me america’s lost its protector because of…” i didn’t want to say it, but his smile only widened.

“don’t worry, i’m sure sam’ll be a great protector.” i let out a sigh of relief, knowing that the mantle still existed and was with someone competent.

then, i tackled him.

he grunted in shock as we fell to one end of the couch, his head in my hands as i peppered small kisses onto him.

“i love you.” i mumble into his skin. he smiles against mine.

“i love you, too.” i finally rise above him, seeing the soft, happy look on his features.

“you’re so sappy, y’know.” my finger pokes at his chest, before he takes my hand and places another kiss to my palm.

“you love it.”

a/n || okay putting this at the beginning kinda spoils it but for those confused:

this is an au where the only difference from endgame is that steve returns as normal steve after returning the stones, but still gives up the shield. steve's time with peggy and returning as an old man has been rewritten.

[inkedaztec]

Happy Monday!

Test ask (or real, up to you) who’s your favourite version of Bucky and how do you think he’d react if you came home with a new piercing/tattoo?

Oooh let me think

It would so have to be modern au neighbor Bucky. I want him to have a normal life and not have to fight so bad. As for the tattoo 😉

When you had moved in next door to Bucky Barnes, you never in a million years would have believed your life would have changed so much, and in so many ways become so much better. You had thought that having to start over, leaving everything and everyone behind would have meant you would be spending countless nights alone. But Bucky and his friends had welcomed you with open arms and told you their doors were always open. And that was before you had started dating the brooding man with the ice blue eyes.

Bucky had become your rock. He was always there to listen to you and your problems. He didn't care if you just wanted to unleash about something bothering you. He always seemed to know when you just wanted to unload and when you wanted his help with problem solving.

You were there for him too. You had helped him see that he was more than his metal prosthetic, given to him by the Stark family when he has to have his arm removed after an accident crushed the bones beyond repair. He had told you that he hadn't even thought twice about himself getting hurt when Morgan had been in danger. Then it was convincing him that the age gap between the two of you was nothing in your eyes, that it didn't matter his beard was starting to get a little gray in it, that he was the one who made you feel at home and at peace.

Natasha had pulled you aside, shortly after your five month anniversary, to tell you that she had never seen Bucky smile as much as he did with you. That you somehow had made his past haunts leave him. Even though you knew Steve was his best friend, earning Natasha's approval somehow meant so much more.

Now, as you were hitting the two year mark, you knew that you needed to do something to show how much he had come to mean to you. So you called up your tattoo artist, and told him you had to get something done today.

You hadn't told Bucky yet what the appointment was, not fully knowing how he would react. Sure you had other tattoos, but you hadn't mentioned wanting to get one for him. But he was endgame for you. He was stuck with you until he decided that he was done, because there was no other way you would willingly leave him.

When you arrived home, Bucky had already let himself in, and had started pacing in the living room. His hair looked windswept, like he had been running his hands through it constantly. Even though you had told him it was nothing serious, with his past he must not have been able to relax.

"Bucky? Sarge are you okay?" You asked him as you closed the door behind you, and set your purse down.

Bucky looked at you, looked you over from head to toe before taking in a deep breath, filling his lungs finally. He went over to you, hugging you tightly, "Better now that you're home. I know you said it wasn't anything serious, I just couldn't get my brain to let the thought of something bad going on."

You hugged him tightly, knowing that because of his past, it was hard for him to not see mountains when dealing with the unknown. As his hands went down your arms, he felt the wrapping around your left wrist. His gaze met yours once more before he softly asked, "Doll?"

You smiled back at him before removing your jacket. Around your left wrist was gauze and black wrapping tape. You carefully peeled it away, knowing enough time had passed for the bleeding to stop. Once it was removed, there against your skin, in Bucky's own handwriting was 'till the end of the line '. You waited patiently for his reaction, your nerves starting to spike slightly.

Bucky's eyes watered as he took in the tattoo. He could barely believe that he got to call you his girl before, now you had gone above and beyond in showing the world that you were his and his alone. "You got this for me?"

"Of course I did, your it for me."

Bucky smiled as he once again took in the words in your wrist. His words on his girl, nothing could be better than that. He smirked before pulling you in for a heat filled kiss, branding your lips with his. He barely pulled away when the need for air finally arose. He rested his forehead against yours, not giving you room to get air of your own. "Call up your guy, I want your name on me."

[the-lighwood-who-lived]

Hold on I still need you...

SUMMARY: Y/N, the youngest avenger- in her teens, with quite the bond with the rest of the Avengers, especially Steve and Tony- being the only one who can make the two agree. This fic is her POV of the events of endgame. What happens when a high school girl goes through what the avengers had to. When the only family she held with all her might split apart.

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

I looked around; the bitter air thick. It’s been 5 years…

Like any other day, I walk around the avengers facility... first, like every other morning I go to Pietro’s room, like I’ve been doing years before the decimation. I move his things around a bit, feels like the ghost of him in the pages of his diary, his ridiculous set of sneakers.

Then I move on to re-open newer wounds… I got into Wanda’s room, slide by Vision’s, spend some time in Bucky’s room and let some light into Sam’s. I walk into Tony’s finally… he wasn’t turned to ashes, he just left… so did Thor… so did Clint…

Nat would have finished mission reports with the rest of them, so I decide to walk to her. I found Steve there too, Nat had cried, I could see. She smiled as she saw me walk in. ‘Hey Y/N, daily patrol done?’ she asks as casual as she can make it seem. ‘Mmhmm’ I reply distracted as I hug her and then move to Steve to do the same. ‘How are you kiddo?’ Steve asks as I pull away from him and sit on Nat’s table. ‘Great’ I mumble.

What else could I say? Before…when I joined the team during Ultron’s threat, I was the only one who could make Steve and Tony see eye to eye. Being the youngest on the team, with beliefs like Steve and interests like Tony, I went along with both of them. What was once reality is now a far away fantasy.

‘Its okay to not be okay Y/N’ Steve pressed, putting an arm on my shoulder. ‘Stop Steve, I love you but I’ll hit you with Nat’s peanut butter sandwich if you give me that speech again’

Steve shook his head laughing as Nat smirked. She must have probably told him the same thing.

Nat and Steve continued their conversation as I lost focus staring outside the facility. That’s when I saw it- there was someone at the gate. ‘Nat check the security footage.’ I said suddenly. No… how?... it was him, it was Scott Lang.

Time skip to the whole Quantum theory explanation thingy. Now we were on our way to the smartest guy I know, the only guy who could possibly save us. Stark.

I hadn’t met Tony in about three years… he last time I saw him, was when Morgan was born. Oh, how I love little Morgan, but I stayed away… for the sake of us. I was buzzing in excitement putting my jacket on as I felt an arm on my shoulder. I turn to see Nat and Steve in slight worry and a very clueless Scott. ‘What?’ I ask smiling, the smile faltered away quick enough when neither Nat nor Steve returned it.

‘Listen, Y/N, you haven’t met Tony in a while. Just don’t get hurt okay.’ Nat tried saying it in a way adults talk so as to not worry kids. I’m not a kid, I get it, I’m an Avenger.

I nodded. This was our life now, no hope. ‘At least I haven’t given up hope Nat’ I say rather harsh, as Nat takes in a sharp breath. ‘I’m sorry Nat I didn’t mean it… I’m sorry’ I hurry to cover my mistake. But the damage was done, Nat puts on a stoic demeanor and replies, ‘Its okay’.

We walk to the car in silence, Steve put a hand behind my back so as to say its okay. The Avengers- if you could call us that- were lost.

We parked the car in front of Tony’s cozy cottage. I stood behind Steve as we got out the car. There he was, just standing there- Tony, with Morgan in his arms. He nodded at Nat, who hid a glint of happiness in her smirk. And then he saw me. He visibly sucked in his breath as I attempted for a smile. He set Morgan down who ran inside, to pepper probably. I looked at Steve, who gave me a small smile and nod, then walked towards tony.

I stood in front of him. ‘Hey Tony’ I whisper. ‘Hey kid’ he replies, his emotions evidently straining him. He is the most stoic person I know, yet, he pulled me into a hug letting out a breath of relief. ‘Missed having you around kid’ he said. ‘I missed you Tony’ I replied, getting straight to the point, a huge knot in my throat. ‘You’ve grown tall haven’t you’ he chuckles.

I look back at Steve , who is smiling… his face ghosting all the times we had together, as a team, in the past. Nat and Steve follow us inside, Scott hurrying along.

Scott explains everything to Tony… but he’s scared, I can see it. Tony can’t stake his cards. He doesn’t. We’re walking back, its not failure just a setback. ‘Tony please… we can get them back… Wanda, Bucky, Peter! Just please Tony… try… how long do we live in the guilt of our failure.’ I yell at him. He looks at his drink. ‘I can’t lose what I found Y/N… I just can’t’ he says. I felt I was spiraling down an endless loop. ‘Do you not care….’ I whisper. He stares at me with betrayal in his eyes.

‘Y/N!’ Tony calls out as I’m almost in the car. We all stop. Tony walks up to Steve and says, ‘Let her stay, please. For some time at least.’ I smile a little…How can he ever think I could so easily give up what's going on. ‘I can’t rest yet Tony… I can’t unless I try to bring them back… unless I know I tried everything I can possibly try to get them back.’ I say as I get into the car, Nat behind.

We then made our way to our second, possibly last, resort- Bruce. It took a while, a weird sort of reunion – before he agreed. Scott was the experiment dummy… It didn’t go well. Steve walks out frustrated, I follow him. He stood leaning against a wall, I went and stood by him. ‘This isn’t going well is it’ I say and he nods.

That’s when our hope was lit up once again, we saw the black sports car… familiar as ever. Came to a stop right in front of us and out walked Tony. I looked at Steve breaking into the most kiddish grin ever. Knew he’d come… knew he’d solve it- now all that’s left is the mission.

That’s nothing new. We’ve done it a thousand times before.

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

Correction. It was nothing like before.

Nat’s gone…. I sat beside Steve as Clint told us the story. I could feel Bruce's anger. I could see Steve's tears. I could hear Tony's frustration. And i shared Clint's grief. I stood leaning by the pole Clint was standing next to. Silent tears running down my face. I'd never again see that beautiful red head in all her action. Never again would I see her being sassy to Steve, being the best friend ever to Clint, being protective over me, being hopeful over life. She's gone.

Thanos will pay for this. It is all his fault. He will pay for every tear that left my team. He will die for this.

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‘And I… am… Iron Man’

Those were the last words I heard Tony say as he went in for the snap, the power so strong that a surge of electricity went through all of us.

The rubble cleared, the smell of ashes thick in the air and dust and smoke flying around. 'Tony!' I yelled before I could even see him. I throw off the concrete that fell over me and run to Tony before anyone else comprehended what happened. Peter was there already, crying. Rhodes helped him off as I crouched next to Tony.

‘Hey kid’ he said as I held onto his hand. ‘Tony… hey….’ I said, trying not to cry, but failing terribly. ‘Friday’ I said, she replied instantly ‘Life vitals failing’. I felt the air get sucked out of me. ‘No Tony, please, you cant go… Tony please…’ I say desperate. ‘I’m proud of you Y/N’ he said, smiling knowingly. ‘No Tony don’t you dare talk like that! At least stay this time, Tony! I just got you back!’ I ranted, crying visibly now.

‘I love you’ He smiled. ‘Tony please…. Hold on I still need you’ I whispered eerily low, broken. I felt arms wrap around my shoulders and pull me away as pepper sat down. Steve. His eyes too were filled, like every soul on the battlefield. I couldn’t make out the exchange between pepper and Tony, I couldn’t hear Steve trying to help me, I couldn’t hear Peter crying… my ears were ringing.

I felt it before I heard it. Tony’s heart… it lost its beat. And then the ringing went silent. I let out every bit of my pain in one scream, as Steve tried to help me from collapsing, him being the only reason I was still standing. The battlefield went dead silent. All the warriors, heroes, on their knees…. For him, for Tony.

He’s gone. He’s with Nat now.

I whispered one last time under my breathe,

‘Hold on I still need you.’

[scottxlogan]

One Shots/Short Stories

This is a master list of all the non-Scogan related one shots/short stories that I have written through the years categorized by pairing as an easy reference for anyone looking for anything related to them.

Bucky Barnes/Scott Summers

Take A Chance On Me (Pairing Scott Summers/Tony Stark, Rating M)  Bucky's long, lonely night at a club leads him to a one night stand filled with more promise than he imagined.

Bucky Barnes/Scott Summers/James “Logan” Howlett/Steve Rogers

Last Night in the City (Pairing Bucky Barnes/Scott Summers/James “Logan” Howlett/Steve Rogers, Rating E)  Scott Summers prepares to shut his old life behind him after the end of Krakoa by spending one last night in New York City, but finds that things don't exactly to plan after a wild night with Logan, Bucky and Steve prove to work towards skewing Scott in a new direction away from the mission he's set on taking.

Bucky Barnes/Sam Wilson

Haunted by  (Pairing: Sam/Bucky, Rating T) Bucky is haunted by nightmares of the time when he was under Hydra's control. After Bucky wakes up, Sam offers to help soothe and comfort his boyfriend to help Bucky find peace again.

Loki Laufeyson/Steve Rogers

The Best Laid Plans  (Pairing Loki/Steve, Rating M) Hoping to move beyond a broken heart, Steve enters into an arrangement hoping that it will prove to be a distraction in ways that will keep him from drowning in the memory of his mistakes with former lovers. However, when Steve finally finds the courage to take what he wants in accepting the proposal laid out before him, he realized that perhaps mutual healing with his confidant isn't all that he's looking for out of their time spent together

Trapped (Pairing Loki/Steve, Rating T)  Steve and Loki find themselves trapped together after Loki's decided it is time to put Earth behind him. After making a bold play for Steve's affection and facing rejection, Loki is convinced leaving is the only way to make things right, but with this one last mission Loki finds himself closer to Steve and experiencing an emotional upheaval in his lover's arms.

Charles Xavier/Hank McCoy

The One He Needs  (Pairing: Hank/Charles, Rating M) Grief and loss have brought Hank and Charles together as Hank finds himself caught up in new feelings for his mentor. (Post-First Class and pre-Days of Future Past)

Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier

Afternoon Hideaway (Pairing: Erik/Charles, Rating M) Charles takes Erik through a stroll in the words and along the way he makes a few surprising discoveries about Erik and the feelings that he has for him.

Clint Barton/Tony Stark

On The Job (Pairing Clint/Tony, Rating T)  While working a mission together with the team, Clint finds it hard to ignore his crush on Tony Stark. Will feelings follow?

All in a Kiss (Pairing Clint/Tony, Rating T)  Following a team up with Tony, Clint realizes he has a crush on his sexy teammate, but getting around to admitting to that isn't as easy as Clint hoped. When Clint makes a plan to capture Tony's attention, it winds up having some unexpected consequences along the way.

Tony Stark & Morgan, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts

Always (Pairing: Tony & Morgan, Tony/Pepper, Rating G) Tony and Morgan spend the day together doing arts and crafts and having a little family fun until Pepper returns. Together they embrace their time together as a happy family. Pure fluff and joy for Tony :)

The Contingency Plan (Pairing: Tony/Pepper, Rating T) Following the events of Endgame Pepper tries her best to move forward with life to continue Tony's dream, but when a surprise visit from Emma Frost offers Pepper a mysterious alternative to her grief, Pepper learns of a contingency plan that Tony left in place before his passing. Will it prove to be the key to happiness for Pepper and Morgan moving forward?

Bringing in the New Year  (Pairing: Kate/Yelena, Rating T) Kate Bishop has decided to spend the winter season with Lucky in the city away from it all just sorting her life out. On the eve of New Year's Eve at a NYC bar Kate discovers an old familiar face is back in town and set on delivering a special message to her.

Rocket Raccoon & Groot & Morgan Stark

The Dark Path (Gen: Rocket & Groot & Morgan Stark, Rated G) Rocket and Groot start off on a dark path with a special mission in mind. (Part 1: The Dark Path)

Tony Stark & James Howlett (Wolverine)

Escape Plan  (Gen: Wolverine & Tony Stark, Rated T) Tony Stark is still alive and he's ready to find his way home. During his time in captivity he's become friends with his new cellmate, a man named Logan, who has adamantium claws and a bad attitude. Together they find a way to break out of captivity and take their first step towards freedom.  (Part 2: The Dark Path)

A Happy Ending  (Gen: Scott Summers & Jean Grey, Rated G) Scott's plans for proposing to Jean the second time around are thwarted by a truth spell that encourages them both to realize what they want out of life with other partners. (A break-up fic, but in a positive fashion)

James “Rhodey” Rhodes/Tony Stark

Together (James Rhodes/Tony Stark, Rated T)  Tony and Rhodey have been roommates and best friends for a while, but after returning from family holiday with Rhodey's family where they pretended to be dating things have changed between them. Tony has ended his impossible relationship with his boyfriend and is facing the idea of spending a holiday alone as to not upset the balance in Rhodey's life. Will his decision prove to be a wise one or will Rhodey have a surprise in store for Tony?

Steve Rogers/Scott Summers/Tony Stark

Lost in Fantasy (Steve Rogers/Scott Summers/Tony Stark, Rated E)  Scott Summers has always had a secret fantasy that he wasn't brave enough to share until his new boyfriend encouraged Scott to be honest with what he wanted. In doing so, Scott's boyfriend pulls together a sexy night of fun with a guest sure to turn Scott's world around as the two Avengers are more than ready to show Scott exactly what he needs.

Conflict Resolution  (Steve Rogers/Scott Summers/Tony Stark, Rated E)  Despite years of heavy tensions between them Scott, Tony and Steve have found a different approach to dealing with conflict resolution that has left them all with a much more desirable outcome between them.

Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanoff/Clint Barton

Now What? (Bucky/Natasha/Clint, Rated E) When Natasha leaves the tower after getting frustrated with Clint and Bucky's repeating fighting, the two are left wondering if this is the end of their relationship. Fearing the worst the two work together to try to get in good graces with Natasha all over again.

Finding the Light (Bucky/Natasha/Clint, Rated E)  When Bucky returns home from a mission gone wrong, he's in a bad headspace and needing to break away from the dark cycle his mind is stuck in. Seeing his need for a different kind of release from the tension and the troubles the mission has left hanging heavy upon him, Clint and Natasha take the night to help push that weight of the mission behind and bring Bucky back home to the safety of the life they've built together.

Peter Maximoff & Erik Lehnsherr

Sixty-Nine (Peter & Erik, Charles/Erik, Rated T) Peter finds himself working to save the school from the dangers by the enemy and in doing so he contemplates all that can happen in sixty-nine seconds and what it means to the here and now and his relationship with his father.

Scott Summers/Sam Wilson

The Mission to Paradise (Scott Summers/Sam Wilson, Rating T)  When Scott Summers and Sam Wilson team up on a tropical island for an undercover job posing as lovers to take down the bad guy, the job was an overwhelming success. It's everything that they prepared for in catching the bad guy. Everything went exactly to plan except for catching feelings for one another along the way. Now after everything is said and done Scott reflects on what it means to find himself deeply attached to the sexy Avenger at his side.

Bucky Barnes/?

The Next Adventure (Rated T, Bucky/?) Bucky's life is set to sail towards new discoveries and tonight he has decided he's about to take on his biggest adventure yet.

Emma Frost/Erik Lehnsherr

Common Ground (Emma Frost/Erik Lehnsherr, Rated E)  After Erik rescued Emma from the compound Shaw left her to rot in, she and Erik formed an alliance and gained a deeper understanding of one another that brought them closer in forming a different kind of bond between them.

Kate Bishop/Peter Parker

Mood board: Accidentally in Love (Kate Bishop/Peter Parker, Rating T)  Wealthy socialite Kate Bishop has always been blessed with good fortune when it comes to helping her friends find their happily ever after. As one of New York City’s top elite, Kate has tried to break outside of her mother’s shell to make a name for herself. She’s as helped countless childhood friends find their way to happily ever after, but with so much time spent on building everyone else’s happily ever after Kate’s ignored her own need for romance in favor of building up her reputation as the premiere wedding planner in the city, working her way to the top. In a surprising twist of fate is appears that finally all Kate’s work appears to have paid off! When the news that billionaire Tony Stark and his beautiful, wealthy fiancée Emma Frost are ready to take the step into matrimony after their whirlwind engagement takes center stage on all of the tabloid covers leaving every planner in the city vying for the job of a lifetime, Kate decides it’s time to step into the big league and make her presence known. Determined to prove her worth Kate makes it her personal mission to find her way to planning the wedding of the century, but when she crosses paths with Peter Parker it seems that there may be a snag in her plans...

Emma Frost/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

One Shots/Short Stories  (multi-pairing)

Mixed Signals (Pairing Steve/Tony, Emma/Steve/Tony, Rated E) After a battle in New York City, Steve is thrilled when Tony invites Steve to join him on a romantic vacation, but Steve's excitement soon fades when he fears Tony doesn't reciprocate Steve's feelings and desire to have more than friendship with his teammate. When Tony and Steve arrive on the island paradise together, Tony's decision to throw a party and flirt with his guests on the island leaves Steve longing for anything, but playing Tony's wingman. Things are anything but what Steve hoped for until a sexy stranger arrives and encourages Steve and Tony to share in something beyond Steve's imagination that will not only open his eyes to pleasure, but bring him closer to the one man he's determined he can't live without even if it means exploration and stepping outside of his comfort zone to make his dreams a reality.

Scott Summers/Male Avenger

Breaking Free (Pairing Scott/Male Avenger, Rated M) Art and fic:  Scott Summers has waited a long time to truly give in to what he wants, but now as he makes his way to the Avenger's tower he's decided there's nothing holding him back from taking it.

Jean Grey/Scott Summers/James “Logan” Howlett

Nothing Else Matters (Pairing Jean/Scott/Logan, Rated E)  After Jean's sacrifice to save the team, Logan's concerns for Scott escalate as they're both mourning the loss of her in their lives. Lost in his grief, Logan recalls a night with Scott and Jean that changed everything for him hoping that somehow it can bring him to saving Scott along the way.

Scott Summers/Bobby Drake

Time for Us (Pairing Scott/Bobby, Rated T) Scott and Bobby take advantage of a night alone at the school to spend time with each other.

James “Logan” Howlett/Loki

Escape (Pairing Logan/Loki, Rating M)  Logan's struggling to find an escape to the pain that surrounds him after he lost everything. Desperate for reprieve Logan hopes to lose himself to a different kind of pain with a beautiful stranger in the hopes of forgetting all that he's lost, but when the memories of his old life proves to be far too much to take in his inability to escape the demons in his head, his new lover offers a tender reprieve to soothe Logan's agony.

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

A wild fic tag game appeared!

I got tagged by @mcfiddlestan!

Rules: List all your WIP titles, all meaning even the ones that are vague or nonsensical. Tag as many people as there are WIPs (that might be a lot, so we’ll see!)

I have quite a few WIPs, so let's see what I can wrangle. Some are actually posted because they're started, so I'll give links to those. The rest just get their titles.

I'll start with All American Barbecue, which was started during Bendis' AvX run. I was still a bigger X-Men fan back then than Avengers, and Captain America PISSED ME OFF something awful when he jackbooted his way to Utopia to demand that they turn over Hope so the Avengers could put her in a "containment center for her protection" from the Phoenix. Anyway, so this fic, which I do have started was an X-Men/Avengers/Wicker Man crossover in which Steve receives a letter from someone on Utopia stating that Hope has gone missing and they're terribly concerned about her safety. He shows up, goes through the whole Sgt. Howie nonsense of being rude af to the mutants only to wind up in a Wicker Phoenix at the end and set on fire (with Bendis inside with him). It was to be therapeutic given the stress AvX caused. I never finished it. Chris Evans started playing Cap, and I liked him, and eventually my fandom interests slid more toward Avengers because of the movies and I've since decided that AvX never happened. So I probably won't finish this unless I get tickled enough to one of these days.

The Break of the Day in the Trenches series currently just has the first fic in it, but the second is started. It's a Scott Summers/Steve Rogers fic that I started off writing for @scottcyclopssummers with a fic prompt from the Comfortember 2021 thing. The prompt was "make something together," so it takes place the day before Thanksgiving, and Emma decided that the Avengers and X-Men would work together to create a huge Thanksgiving feast for themselves and the students still at the school over the holiday. AvX never happened, so I didn't have to address those tensions, but Steve and Scott have still always butted heads over stuff, so they, as the two team leaders, have been assigned to work together to bake desserts for the meal. Things happen that lead to something more fun than fighting, and yeah, it's not just a single fic anymore.

The Every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite series is also just one fic into a Winteriron (Tony/Bucky) no powers AU set. Tony and Bucky meet in an AA group in Brooklyn. Bucky is a wounded vet, Tony is still a Genius Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist but neither of them are superheroes. I already know where I'm starting the second fic; I just haven't yet.

Hemispheres is my big Frostiron baby, and I've just started into Part 3 with Roll the Bones. It started with a prompt fic (Tony wakes up in an alternate reality and discovers that he's married to Loki). By the time I got to the end of the first one, Tony had fallen head over heels for the Trickster, only to wake up and find himself back in his own reality with a need to get Loki out of Asgardian prison. It vaguely follows the movies with a lot of changes.

Light a candle, light a motive is a series of prompt fics that have managed to weave themselves into a cohesive story. It's Frostiron, Stucky, Clint/Natasha, Bruce/Jane, Pepper/Maria and eventually will have Thor/Darcy (though probably not in a huge, they get their own major fics way - maybe?). It's post-Endgame and very canon not-compliant. Morgan Stark is still a part of it, but her mother isn't Pepper.

The Is this a dagger I see? series is two fics into a Winterfrost (Bucky/Loki) series. It's semi-MCU compliant with a lot of non-compliant twists and turns. Probably more non-compliant than anything. Obviously. The first fic starts with Bucky in the training room in the tower, throwing knives at a target. Loki is bored (oh no, a bored Trickster!) and asks to join him. Bucky has no problems with Loki, and he finds out that Thor's a super dick to his brother by keeping him in the tower unless Thor accompanies him (something that wasn't a part of the treaty with Asgard in regards to Loki being on Earth to help the Avengers). So Bucky takes Loki to Luna Park/Coney Island, and they don't come back until they've decided they like kissing each other a lot. The second fic is them coming back to Thor throwing a tantrum about Loki leaving the tower, and it ends with Bucky making Loki very happy and then threatening Loki's brother into behaving himself toward Loki. This also has Steve/Tony in it and Nat/Clint. Oh and it's also Bruce/Thor. There will be a part in the future - not sure when - that'll involve Bucky and Loki going on a road trip to try food in all 50 states.

Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home is a Steve/Loki series, two fics in. The first started with a prompt from a Steve Rogers bingo that I never finished and eventually finished that fic at least, which has led into a series. It's another semi-compliant/not-compliant series. Aspects of the movies are mentioned. Loki's living in the tower, has to work with the Avengers, and in the first one, he accompanies Steve to Siberia to obtain Bucky's Winter Soldier records so that they can help him with whatever deprogramming/therapy he needs. The second fic also reveals Bucky/Tony are a couple. Thor is a dick in this one (but not nearly as much in the Bucky/Loki), but Steve is also willing to be a good boyfriend in that regard. This series also has Natasha/Sam and Clint/Bobbi Morse, but mentioned, not fully explored yet.

Wantons light of heart is a Scott Summers/Tony Stark (aka Mechanical Boy Band) series that started as a one-shot (haha) out of spite for @scottxlogan's stalker who claimed to hate Tony Stark. Needless to say, what started out as spite has turned into a big time love of this ship. Two fics in, the third is started, and it's going to prove extremely cathartic for me for reasons.

And white the fading forests grow, Yet what can I give him, give my heart, and Don’t you draw the queen of diamonds (She’ll beat you if she’s able) are a trilogy (so far) that just need a series name because they all go together (in that order, so far). The pairings are: Emma Frost/Loki/Tony Stark and Scott/Logan, and there is also mention of Bobby Drake/Christian Frost and Kitty (Kate) Pryde/Danni the tattoo artist (I don't know if that's the name of the tattoo artist that Kitty kissed in the comic - I don't think they named her, so I did).

Now is the Winter of Our Discontent Made Glorious is a gift fic I did for the FrostIron Holiday Exchange 2020. By all rights, it's a one-shot Frostiron college AU, but I've had inklings of ideas on ways to continue it, so chances are, at some point, it'll become a series.

Hey Jealousy is a one-shot, Frostiron adjacent fic in which Loki expresses jealousy during the Ragnarok capers when he finds out that Bruce is wearing Tony's extremely tight pants. I planned for this to be a one-shot, but there's a lot of interest in seeing how this could go on, and one day, I might continue it further. It would obviously be an Infinity War/Endgame non-compliant series.

Call My Name or Walk On By is a Scott/Logan one-shot that has had interest expressed in it becoming more than one-shot. It's comic non-compliant, after Logan's 'death' and Scott and Emma are running their own training center in Canada on the other side of the country from where Scott discovers Logan alive. This might not become a WIP, but it's got a good beginning of something that could go further.

Brownies is a Scott/Emma turned Scott/Kurt fic, which was going to turn into Scott/Emma/Kurt series. It started because of a Tumblr post that @scottxlogan made. Yeah, so Scott found some brownies on the counter left behind by one of the students going on a field trip with the rest of the students. But obviously, they weren't ordinary brownies.

Some ideas I have but haven't been started (and definitely haven't been finished) are: an Avengers/Flash Gordon (think 1980s version with Queen music, all bright and colorful) fic, a Loki and Emma are the leaders of the Hellfire Club fic, an unnamed Loki + Yelena + Peter Parker + Wade Wilson team-up fic that @scottxlogan is also dangerously responsible for planting the fic bunny in my brain, an unnamed TVA Loki/TVA Steve Rogers fic, a Steve/Emma series that I'm almost done with the first fic for, an unnamed 20s-30s X-Men/Avengers fic that'll have a lot of Boardwalk Empire and Gatsby elements to it, apparently an idea for a Kid Loki/Kurt Waggoner fic (Kurt is being taken care of by Howlett and Hercules and POC Scott Summers), an unstarted Tony Stark/Chris Knight (Real Genius crossover) fic that does have a title (Sun god robes on a pyramid).

That seems to be it - all I can dig up for now.

Tagging: @scottxlogan, @kleenexwoman, @izhunny, @elvenferretots, @chaotic-hypnotic-erotic, @mistressofmuses, @iamanartichoke, @rabentochter, @stephrc79, @scottcyclopssummers, @holistic-alcoholic and anyone else who wants to pick this up and run with it.

Thanks for the tag!!!!

[urimaginespimp]

Last Kiss (This Love pt 6)

Bucky x reader (elemental witch)

Set on Endgame.

Note: This one is a rollercoaster of emotions

previous part

--------

Fear was creeping up within you as you stared at Thanos’ army approaching definitely outnumbering you and the rest of the team. Nevertheless, you were ready to fight in honor of Nat. The wound in your heart from losing her is too fresh.

But before you knew it, a golden ring, followed by another one after another started appearing behind you, and you were too struck to move when one by one, everyone who disappeared five years ago started walking out.

And then you see him, weapon in hand, ready to finish the fight.

The fear within you was long gone, and was suddenly replaced with hope.

--------

Everybody was working together in the fight. You were holding your own pretty well, just killing any one of Thanos’ army near you or overwhelmingly attacking anyone else on your side. You paused for a second to catch your breath when a voice spoke behind you.

“Can’t you look ugly for once, doll? I mean we’re in a middle of a fight and you still look like an angel.” You turned and faced a panting Bucky. He was still holding a weapon, dirt and dried blood on him, but he was giving you a small grin.

Your eyes welled in tears as you take him in. Hell, you don’t know what to say...

“I-”

But before you could finish embarrassing yourself before the man you’ve been waiting on for five years, he closed the space between you and captured you in a kiss.

His lips were softer than you’ve imagined them to be, but before you could even comprehend what was going on, he broke away.

“Buck-” you whispered.

“Just wanted to do that in case I turn to dust again.” he whispered with a shit-eating grin, before turning back to fighting.

You chuckled, shaking your head to not get too distracted from that welcomed rude interruption and went back to fighting.

---------

Nat and Tony. Two of the first Midgardians you’ve met, and now you swore to hold in your heart forever.

It was just a little while after the funeral when you decided to sit with Tony’s daughter Morgan, and Happy.

“You’re Y/N.” She gazed up to you with wonder behind her eyes.

“Yeah, I was your dad’s friend.” you smiled, looking down next to you where she sat. You didn’t know Tony talked about any of you to her.

“He said you would be the best one to build forts with and that he didn’t like your boyfriend.” She tilted her head to the side, reminding you of Tony’s mannerisms.

“I uh... don’t have a boyfriend.” you coughed awkwardly.

“That’s ok, I’m not allowed to have one too.” she gave you a toothy grin. Happy and you exchanged looks.

“Is it Jesus with the robot arm? I saw him staring at you.” She asked you with no hesitation, prompting Happy to stand before you two.

“Yeah, that’s enough. Wanna get that cheeseburger now?” He offered his hand to her, which she took happily and said a quick bye to you.

You made a mental note to pay them a visit someday. Standing up from the seat, you walked down and stopped by the lake when Steve approached you, now in his suit.

“I saw the punk finally kissed you.” He smiled at you.

“We haven’t really talked about it yet. A funeral is hardly the best setting for it.” you shrugged.

“I hope that was the end of you being dumbasses around each other.” he nudged your shoulder, chuckling.

“I don’t know, Steve. I quiet enjoy making you want to pull out that golden hair of yours.” You smirked at him.

“Take care of each other, okay?” He faced you now, making you turn his way as well in confusion.

You were about to ask him why he was talking like he was leaving for good when it clicked. He smiled at you when he saw the realization dawn on you.

“Take care of us yourself, coward.” You smirked, but your eyes were also tearing up. Steve was leaving too.

“I just lifted your father’s hammer.” he feigned offense, and took a step closer to you, taking you in his free arm. “I love you, kid. Despite how much you like making my old heart uncomfortable sometimes.” you felt him kiss the top of your head.

“Again, I called you ‘daddy’ once and it was out of a dare.” you weakly punched his chest. “I love you too, old man. No matter how boring your war stories are.”

Breaking away from him, you wiped the stray tear on your cheek. “Go get that dance.” you smiled genuinely at him, which he returned.

“What, no last snarky remark to remember you by?” he teased, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Don’t break a hip doing so.”

“There we go.”

--------

“Are you sure you wanna stay?” Thor asked you for the third time.

“I don’t like space that much.” you smiled at him. He decided that he was gonna join Quill and the rest of the group. “And with the amount of people who just missed 5 years, I wanna help them get back on their feet.”

“And the old man?”

“Father, I’m older than him.” you reminded. He still couldn’t accept it when Mantis pointed out to him that you have sexual love for the man with the lomg hair and metal arm. He was acting like a protective father.

“If he hurts you, you tell me.”

“Do you have a phone now? A computer?”

“No, what for?” He laughed at you.

“You’ll hear from me through Rocket.” you promised. “You guys take care of yourselves, ok?” and he assured you with a nod.

Throwing your arms around him, you promised to take care of New Asgard, and to stay out of trouble. Your father sealed his departure with a kiss on your temple and a promise to visit you when he can.

--------

You were now walking around the property, exchanging greetings and goodbyes to the people who were still there while looking for Bucky, when you finally see him walking around aimlessly. And as if sensing your eyes on him, he looked your way.

You tried to give him a smile, and you were confused when he didn’t return it, just nodded at you and walked the other way.

You decided to follow him. Catching up, you were now only a few steps away from him when you called him.

“Buck are you okay?” you asked him, concern lacing your voice.

Stopping on his tracks, he turned around to face you with a serious expression.

“Steve left.” He stated looking at you with a frown etched on his forehead.

You nodded as a reply. You couldn’t begin to think how he was feeling.

“You know, it seems that everyone else already knows which path to take next except me. All I’ve been doing is jumping from one fight to another.” He started to rant.

“Wakanda-”

“Y/N I was hiding in Wakanda. I need... I want to start finding myself now that I’m recovered. And let's face it. You need it too. We can’t keep living in a sanctuary. And I just think I can’t start fresh when I’m around people who would remind me even the tiniest of my parts as the winter soldier.” you were still trying to wrap your head around what he was saying when he spoke again.

“I’m sorry for kissing you. I wasn’t thinking straight.” he looked anywhere but you, but his face was contoured with certainty.

“Buck what are you saying?” deep down you knew. You just didn’t want to believe it.

“I’m saying I’m letting you go, Y/N.” He said, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Take care of yourself.” he finished, and turned away again, starting to walk away.

“Bucky I...” You wanted to tell him. To just let it finally out, but now something in you, maybe a little anger, stopped you from making any more of a fool of yourself.

But it didn't go unheard by the super soldier as he turned to look at you one last time.

“I know, Y/N. And I’m sorry but I can’t... I can’t love you the way you'd hope me to. You’ll see that I’m right someday, and you’ll thank me for it.” He gave you one last sad attemot of a smile, before finally leaving you, glued to where you were standing, unable to fathom what just happened while simultaneously feeling a part of you just... break.

--------

(set a little into TFATWS finally)

WARNING: Mention of assault. Look out for *(start) and ** (end)

Six months. It’s been six months since you’ve last seen him. And every day it was getting harder to keep yourself from finally admitting to yourself that you’re mad at him.

True to your promise to Thor, you were taking care of the people of Asgard, using some of the wealth him left you with to send some of the younger ones to school, and with the help of Pepper, even buy some shares of some companies. To say the New Asgard was doing well would be an understatement. The people were merely taking up jobs out of interest.

Val as usual, saw through you. She told you it was okay to be mad – that it was a stepping point to start moving on.

“Come on Y/N. The dude kissed you and changed his mind just like that. I would’ve broken his nose if I were you.” She told you one night after catching you looking at a photo of him given to you by Steve. “You can’t tell me you’re not holding even just a tiny grudge.”

“Okay, if it makes you feel any better, I am holding a little resentment.” you shrugged at her, making her reply ‘good enough’.

You just didn’t think it was going to end that way for you both. And now you were wishing you’ve taken those 5 years as an opportunity to rid of any romantic feelings you had for him. Maybe then it wouldn’t have hurt at all when he left.

You tried to ask Sam a number of times if he had any idea how he was doing, but he’d say that Bucky kept ignoring his texts.

For a few weeks every night, you’d been wearing one of the only shirts he owned back in Wakanda. And before you sleep, you think of the image you’ve engraved in your mind – him sleeping peacefully next to you in Wakanda, just after a nightmare.  Then you’ll wake up the next morning hoping he’d have a good day, and that maybe something would remind him of you and make him wish he’d stayed. And It went that way over and over, until one distinct night.

*

There was knocking on your door late at night, waking you up from your sleep. Opening the door, you were met with three of the women you know, holding up a younger one who was crying and shaking in shock.

They explained that she’d been close to getting assaulted after a night of partying and losing sight of her friends. Thankfully the three women found her and were able to pry the man away. But what was worse was that this wasn’t the first time something like that happened.

**

Save the world once or twice, there would still be shitty people. That was what you realized that night.

So maybe he was right. You realized that what the Avengers taught you about Midgard didn’t cover much of the shitty things that happen frequently to innocent people.

And that was when you decided to replace nights off wallowing in self-pity, with going out at night, staying in clubs or hanging out in its bathrooms, just making sure everybody was safe. And soon enough, crime rate at night in your area reduced significantly.

Maybe if you divert your attention to literally anything else besides the man, you’d actually get over him.

All was well until one morning as you were kicking off the heels and taking of your dress from the night before to finally get some sleep, the tv you had on flashed something that caught your attention.

A stranger holding Steve’s Shield was being called the new Captain America.

What the actual fuck?

--------

@eternalharry @iheartsebandchris @lizzarooni @the-ayo-lit @tanyaherondale @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul

[avengersassemble-fics]

Stark's Girl

part 015/015 "the real hero"

previous part

masterlist

word count nearly 9k whoops

an: okay so... this is long and honestly... be prepared for an ending that took me days to write. i do not take any ownership on dialogue/scenes used from endgame, and i tried to make it original as well... anyways, here's the final part, and i can't wait to see what y'all think of the ending :3 oop i cried three times in this so be ready.

Was this actually going to work? Were the Avengers really about to get everyone back? According to Tony.. No. There were too many factors against it.

You tried to talk to him about it that night, but Tony avoided the conversation like the plague. By the morning Tony had disappeared and you were set to head back to the Compound that evening. You hadn’t heard from anyone if they had gotten anywhere beyond Tony’s involvement but it raised the question.. Who would even be able to make it work besides him? Hank Pym had been blipped, and as far as you knew this must be outside of Banner’s expertise. Tony was avoiding you, and that bugged you.

You understood the hesitation, but you knew how tore up he was about losing the Parker kid, even to this day. Morgan and Pepper were his world, this was his fresh start, so if it didn’t work then it was all for nothing. But what if it did? Then everyone would be back, and things would go back to how they were.

You zipped your bag shut and reached for your phone that laid on the bed. There were no new messages and you couldn’t help but sigh when there was a light tap on the door frame behind you. You glanced over your shoulder before tossing your phone into the bag and picking it up, and facing your brother fully. “Look who decided to say goodbye.”

“Got everything?” Tony asked and motioned his hands. “Clothes, toiletries-”

“I have everything,” you reassured him. “Was that all or.. Do you wanna talk about it?”

Tony sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. You dropped your bag to the floor and sat down on your bed, and pat the spot next to you. Tony pushed himself off the door frame and ended up by your side, and you hit him with your shoulder. “Go on old man.”

“I hate it when you call me that,” Tony grumbled before he sighed and looked at you. “I just don’t see it working. And I can’t risk losing all of this.”

“I get that Tony, I really do,” you replied. You slid closer to him and snaked your arm through his and rested your head against his arm. “What you have here it’s.. Well I haven’t seen anything like it since mom and dad.”

“But you want me to figure it out,” Tony said. You sighed and looked up at him.

“I just.. I want to know if you really think it won’t work.”

Tony sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“It’s never been explored, I get that,” you told him. You unlatched yourself from his side and stood, and grabbed your bag before placing a hand on your brother's shoulder. “I have to get back and see what they’ve come up with though.”

Tony placed his hand over yours and gave you a tight squeeze. He spent the rest of the day with one question on his mind.

Would it work?

When you got back to the Compound the sun was nearly setting, and you sat in your car after switching the engine off. You pulled out the velvet box from your bag and ran your thumb over the top a couple times before pushing the lid open and staring at the contents. The ring inside still had a gleam to it, and you smiled a bit at it. You snapped the box shut and got out the car with your bag in tow, and headed inside. There was a strange brown van parked in the large hangar that made you slow your pace a bit, but you shook it off and continued on your way to the common room. As you got closer you could hear more and more chatter, and prepared yourself for what you were about to walk in on.

“I only have enough Pym particles for a few more goes,” you could hear Scott saying. “So I hope you were able to figure it out.”

“I got it down.. Mostly,” another voice said. It sounded almost like.. Banner?

When you came around the corner you were met with what looked like equations, workarounds, and everyone’s back to you. You had heard about “Professor Hulk” (that’s what his students called him at least) but you hadn’t seen Banner since after the blip. It was definitely, well, something. You came to a halt and couldn’t help but smile. “I see you guys have made progress since I saw you.”

Everyone turned around and Natasha approached with a smile. “Did he come around?”

“No,” you admitted. “He has a family now Nat, they mean the world to him.. And he doesn’t think it’ll work.”

“Well,” Nat looked back at Banner before he moved out of the way. “We might have a start.”

Bruce (Hulk?) explained everything. Tomorrow they would attempt time travel by sending Scott back to the 1950’s, and pull him right back. He said it would be easy, and checked his work multiple times to prove it. It sounded plausible, but until the morning no one would really know if it could work. Your nerves were shot at just the thought of it, and decided to make yourself some tea. You weren’t a huge fan, so as you dipped your tea bag into the hot water of your mug, the smell made you shake your head.

“You should try adding some honey.”

You glanced up from your mug at Steve walking into the kitchen. He stopped at a cabinet and pulled out a container filled with golden honey. He made his way to your side and set it on the counter, and you graciously took it and swirled some of it into the steaming cup. You lifted the cup to your lips and took a small sip, and turned to rest your hip against the counter and face Steve. “You think it’ll work?”

“It has to,” Steve said. His hand came up to rub one of your arms. “We owe it to everyone we lost to at least try.”

You nodded at his words and tapped your mug lightly in thought, and something surged through you. You set the mug down and reached into your pocket and pulled out the velvet box he had given you just days prior. Steve felt his heart stop at the sight, and his stomach twisted as you placed it on the counter between you both.

“I know you said you’d give me as much time as I needed, but.. I don’t need time to decide my answer.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled. “I guess I read too much into things-”

“Steve,” you cut him off from even finishing that thought. You placed your right hand up on his cheek, and Steve met your gaze. “The answer is yes.”

“Yes?” He asked quietly, and you nodded.

“Yes,” you repeated, and couldn’t help but giggle when a smile spread over his face. Steve pulled you into his arms like you were going to disappear right in front of him. When he set you back down you watched as he grabbed the velvet box and opened it, and pulled the ring out. He gently grabbed your left hand and as he slid the ring onto your finger, it felt like both of you weren’t breathing. You held your hand up to look at the gold band and diamond on your finger, and Steve’s smile fell.

“Are you okay?”

You met his gaze again and nodded. “I just never thought this would ever happen for someone like me.”

Admitting that to him felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Steve’s look turned more understanding and he took your hand and placed a chaste kiss to your fingers. He pulled you into his embrace and your arms wrapped around his waist and head laid on his chest, while his arms held your body close. You had the sneaking suspicion the last few months that Steve did know what had been running through your mind, and this felt like confirmation. Your confession was absolute, and Steve understood it. And he would spend everyday making sure you knew you were worth it until the end.

It was the first night you spent together, welcoming one another’s embraces in a quiet and tender moment. To you, you had felt like it would be one of the last quiet moments before finding out if time travel was possible, because from there it would be non-stop until they got everyone back. You knew it, and Steve did too. One last night of quiet, then one last time saving the world. So Steve took residence in your room once more, sharing your bed and holding you so you knew you were worth this.

The next morning came too soon, peeking through your shades until FRIDAY opened them higher like you had scheduled. Steve traced his fingers up and down your arm that draped across him for awhile before duty called. Begrudgingly you both changed and went to the hangar hand in hand, only separating when you got in view of everyone. Natasha though never misses anything.

“Good morning love birds,” she quipped while typing away on a computer near Banner. As you two neared you came to her side and nudged her with your arm gently to take over.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied back and met Steve’s gaze with a little smile.

“The ring on your finger says different,” she threw back your way. Banner looked down over the exchange and saw what Natasha had been talking about.

“What? Since when!” He asked.

“Recently,” Steve offered. Banner tapped his rather large hand on your back and shot a finger Steve’s way.

“I always knew you two would work it out, congratulations.”

“Speaking of working out,” Natasha cut in. “Are we ready?”

“Almost there,” Banner said as he worked on a couple more calculations. “I’m going to go over this with (Y/N).. Cap do you mind setting the breakers and getting the emergency generators ready just in case?”

“Got it,” Steve said. With one final glance between you both he casted a smile and walked back into the compound. Banner hovered over your shoulder and walked you through the equations running through the sequence, and also working in the Pym particles into that. You followed it for the most part, but for some reason something didn’t add up, you just couldn’t put your finger on it. Tossing caution to the wind (you weren’t a genius like Banner was of course) the sound of footsteps echoed in the hangar, and Steve made his way back.

“Alright, here we go. Time travel test number one. Scott you can fire up the uh, the van thing,” Banner instructed. Scott, in what looked like a retro Ant Man suit, powered up the Quantum tunnel and you double checked Banner’s work.

“Breakers are set, emergency generators are on standby,” Steve said as he walked back to your and Natasha’s side.

“Good. ‘Cause if we lose the grid I don’t want to lose Tiny here in the 1950’s,” Banner said lightly. Everyone’s gaze went to him in shock.

“Excuse me?” Scott asked from near the van.

“He’s kidding!” Natasha told him, before turning and whispering to the group. “You can’t say things like that!”

“Yeah, just a bad joke!” Banner said loudly for Scott, and offered him a thumbs up. Scott nodded hesitantly and smiled nervously.

“You were kidding right?” You asked. Banner lowered his voice again.

“I have no idea. We’re talking about time travel here. Either it’s all a joke or none of it is,” Banner explained, though it didn’t calm any of your hesitations. Banner looked back to Scott and gave him a nod. “We’re gonna send you back a week, let you walk around an hour, then bring you back in 10 seconds. Make sense?”

“Perfectly not confusing,” Scott tried to level with humor.

“Good luck, Scott. You got this,” Steve offered in encouragement which Scott gave a more confident smile.

“You’re right. I do, Captain America.”

You met Scott’s gaze for a moment before giving him a nod of approval, and with Banner’s direction you pressed a button and Scott disappeared into the tunnel. Silence fell over the group, and you exchanged glances with Steve, who put his hand on the small of your back. Banner, with his arms crossed keeping track of time on his abnormally large watch gave you a nod.

“On the count of three. Three.. Two.. One!”

In the same sequence as before you pressed the button and the Quantum Tunnel spit a figure back out… But it was not the same one you sent in. They were younger, and your heart dropped as Banner moved you out the way.

“Guys? Uh this doesn’t feel right,” the teen said, and everyone’s attention shot to Banner.

“What is this?” Steve asked.

“Who is that?” Natasha asked next and Banner mumbled to himself.

“Jesus, is that Scott?” You asked this time and Banner huffed.

“Yes, it’s Scott!” Banner exclaimed. Before anyone could get a grasp on the situation, Banner hit buttons and teen Scott was sucked back into the Quantum Tunnel, only for an older man to be spit back out.

“My back,” the old Scott said and Steve shuffled next to you to face Banner fully.

“Can you bring him back?” Steve asked and Banner tapped the buttons furiously.

“I’m working on it!”

Tensions were high as old Scott got sucked back in and in a flash another body was spit out. The Ant-Man suit had fallen to the floor and inside was..

“It’s a baby,” you said matter of factly.

“It’s Scott,” Banner countered.

“As a baby!” Nat said again, matter of factly.

“He’ll.. Grow,” Banner offered and Steve shook his head.

“Bring Scott back!” Steve ordered. And Banner looked to Natasha and motioned to the generators.

“When I say kill the power, kill the power,” he instructed her. Natasha nodded before rapidly walking towards the generator and grabbing a hold of the lever. You came up by Banner’s side again to see what he was doing and he pointed at Nat. “Kill it!”

Nat pulled the power and out shot regular Scott, which made everyone sigh in relief. Scott, on the other hand, stood there in disbelief and admitted something quietly. “Somebody peed my pants.. But I don’t know if it was baby me or old me.”

You glanced Steve’s way and offered a sad smile. Tony was right, this wasn’t going to work. Natasha came back to the group and mumbled a thank god, while Steve wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

It wasn’t going to work. It was a grim thought, and everyone got their hopes up for nothing. Though Banner still tried to remain optimistic, and threw his hands up in triumph.

“Time travel!” Banner exclaimed, only earning a few shakes of the head. Steve motioned his head in a direction and off you two went, leaving behind Nat and Banner, and Scott who didn’t know what to do about his situation.

Steve had led you outside into the sunlight, where he removed himself from your side and let you walk out of the shade and close your eyes. He felt defeated, and took a seat on a hard surface and casted his gaze to the ground.

There was no victory, not even an opportunity for it. He had to once again come to terms with the fact he would never see Bucky again, or Sam, or Wanda. Wakanda would never get their King or Princess back, and the kid from Queens would never get to step foot back in the city. Steve was so lost in thought he nearly missed what you said.

“Holy shit,” you said out loud. Steve averted his gaze back to you, only to see what you had referred to. A car was fast approaching, and he knew just who was behind the wheel. Steve was by your side before the car came to a halt before you and the window rolled down.

“Why the long faces?” Tony asked.

You couldn’t help the smile that broke out over your face. There would only be one reason why Tony would come here (voluntarily)... He figured it out.

“Let me guess.. Lang turned into a baby,” Tony said and you covered your mouth to hide your grin. Steve nodded beside you and shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Among other things, yeah. What are you doing here?” Steve asked. Tony removed his sunglasses and tossed them onto the passenger seat before stepping out the car. He walked around the back, and opened the trunk.

“That’s the EPR Paradox. Instead of pushing Lang through time, you must’ve pushed time through Lang. It’s tricky, dangerous even. Somebody should’ve cautioned you on it,” Tony went on explaining. Steve smiled a bit and nodded at him.

“You did,” Steve admitted and Tony put his hand over his chest, acting shocked.

“Did I? Well thank God I’m here,” Tony replied while fishing something out of his pocket. It looked like a funky little watch, which he promptly tossed your way and you caught easily. “Regardless, I fixed it. That is a fully functioning Time-Space GPS.”

“Son of a bitch,” you mumbled to yourself looking at the device in your hands.

“And don’t think I didn’t notice that,” Tony pointed from where he was. You looked at where he was pointing and smiled at the sight of the ring on your finger. “I just want peace, if you’re okay with it.”

“Of course I am Tony,” Steve confirmed and Tony sighed as he lowered his voice for the two of you.

“We got a shot at getting these stones, but I gotta tell you my priorities. Bring back what we lost? I hope so, yes of course. Keep what I got?” Tony paused while focused on you and nodded at him. “I have to, at all costs.. and maybe not die trying would be nice.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Steve agreed and offered Tony his hand, and you watched them shake on the promise. Tony pulled one last thing from the trunk of his car and Steve looked uncertain to take it. “Tony-“

“Why? He made it for you,” Tony insisted. And finally.. Steve took the shield once more.

“Looks good, Cap,” you commented, earning one of those looks from Steve and Tony shut his trunk.

“Ew. Please I don’t need to hear that.”

The Compound was about to be bustling once more. It was one of the more festive dinners the Avengers compound had seen in awhile, nearly every seat occupied and chatter among everyone. Pizza was the easier choice for the evening, and you had found yourself looking for a seat near Nat, Tony, and Steve who had engrossed themselves in early talks.

Clint had proven that Tony’s way of time travel worked, though it had taken a couple weeks to get it ready. You learned the calculations for entry points and exits, then re-entry back to the present. It was confusing, but the thought of getting the world back to normal was worth the late night lectures with Tony.

So now it was down to figuring out where and how to get all the stones as they are scattered throughout time. There wasn’t a clear path though, not yet anyway. But as you came up to the trio you could hear them still discussing it.

“I’m so glad we have the Three Stooges figuring this out,” you commented as Steve welcomed you to sit in his lap. Tony tossed a napkin your way and you chuckled before taking a glance around the room. “It’s nice to see all these faces again.”

“Hopefully soon it’s everyone,” Natasha offered. Her hope never died these last five years, and it made you nod in agreement as you bit into your slice of pizza. One of Steve’s hands ran up and down the side of your hip, and everything felt a little more normal.

“Lang only has enough particles for ten round trips, one for each of us,” Tony went on about, though you quickly swallowed the bite of pizza you had to inject.

“What about me-“

“No,” Steve and Tony said in unison. You narrowed your gaze at them both and took an angry bite of your pizza. It was ridiculous that they made the decision you were to stay here and track them on the time heist.

“Thor and Rocket could go for the Reality Stone in 2013,” Steve offered.

“Clint and I can get the Soul Stone, Nebula and Rhodey can handle the Power Stone.. We know where those are in 2014,” Natasha said out loud.

“That still leaves three stones and four of us,” Tony sighed. You shrugged your shoulders and took a bite of the crust you had left.

“I mean if you pick the right year, there’s three stones in New York,” you said off the top of your head. When silence fell among the group and you looked up to see them all staring at you you raised a brow. “What?”

“What did you just say?” Tony asked and you blinked at him.

“I said if you pick the right year there are three stones in New York?” You replied and when everyone still looked confused you sighed. “The wizard had the Time Stone, you guys had the Space Stone aka the Tesseract, and Loki’s scepter had the Mind Stone.”

It was silent, everyone seemed to be processing what you said when Banner came up to the group, but Tony was already in motion. “There’s only one pizza left can I have it-“

“Jolly Green take a look at this,” Tony said as he whipped out a small device and displayed images in the room. His actions made everyone else look on as he moved pictures, air typed words, and took a step back to show everyone. Tony put his hands on his hips and Banner looked surprised.

“Shut the front door.”

“This is it,” Natasha stood and looked on. “This is how we get all the stones in one go.”

For once you were glad to have caught up on all those confidential SHIELD documents on what you had missed.

No..

No no no. No it wasn’t supposed to be like this. This wasn’t supposed to happen, no one was supposed to die.. This was supposed to fix everything, but not this. No.. No it wasn’t true. What Clint was saying couldn’t be true.

He fell to his knees, he had to be picked up from the floor as he recounted what happened. A soul for a soul, he said. It shouldn’t have been the price but it was, he said.

It couldn’t be true.

The thought just ran over and over again in your mind the rest of the day. Everyone had gone to the lake and discussed it more but that one line just kept running over you. Clint insisted there was no other way, there was no give backs.

She bet her life on it.

Tony crafted a gauntlet to house the stones in. He carefully placed each like where Thanos had them originally. He was precise, this was delicate after all. Someone died to make this happen.

Steve was distant. You chalk it up to being focused on the situation at hand.

But who should snap?

Thor offered but was met with (quickly) apprehension from everyone. Tony said he was in no condition to do so, so Bruce said it should be him.

“You saw what those stones did to Thanos. It almost killed him. None of you could survive,” Banner said.

“How do we know you will?” You asked. It was one of the first times you had spoken up in days, and seemed to shock everyone a little bit.

Honestly, you couldn’t handle someone else dying right now.

There was no way to know for sure, but it was time to find out. This time you weren’t letting anyone tell you not to join, and you grabbed the nano suit attachment Tony had made for you. The chest pendant stuck to your shirt and like a second skin it dispersed the suit over your body, leaving your face still exposed.

You came up by Steve’s side and he glanced your way and sighed. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Let me be here for this,” you said lowly. Steve didn't question you again, and strapped his shield tighter to his arm as Scott came to his side and gave him a ready nod.

“FRIDAY do me a favor and activate Barn Door Protocol will you?” tony asked.

Barn Door Protocol was simple. There were protective blast doors that closed the Compound in the event of a catastrophic event. It protected every square inch of the facility-

You get the point by now. It’s in case some shit goes down.

The room got slightly darker, and Tony gave you a nod across the room and both your helmets covered your faces. Tony projected a shield before him and Clint, and you shifted in your place.

This was it: one last mission.

Banner slowly put on the gauntlet, the metal growing over his enlarged hand, and when it fit snugly the stones began to glow and you could see their power begin to surge through him. Suddenly, Banner fell to his knee and grunted in pain.

“Take it off!” Thor hollered.

“No, wait,” Steve called over the chaos. “Bruce you okay?”

“Talk to us, Banner,” you tried to reason over the conflicting voices.

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” Bruce reassured everyone and even attempted to give a thumbs up. But the scene unfolding told you (and probably everyone) that Bruce was not okay. He screamed in pain, holding his hand that housed the gauntlet and just when you thought he was going to pass out from the pain he was in--

-- He snapped.

Bruce fell to the ground and the gauntlet slid off his hand and Clint kicked it away. Steve rushes to his side and you move to do the same but Tony stops you.

“Don’t move him,” Tony instructed and Bruce gripped onto Steve’s arm.

“Did it work? Bruce asked immediately. Everyone glanced around, unsure if it did or not.

Nothing felt different, nothing screamed yes it worked. Tony iced Bruce’s affected arm and just when the dust was settling-

A bad choice of words. Suddenly everything evaporated around you. Explosions, debris, rock and dirt flying everywhere. Everything was disorienting, nothing truly felt settled for minutes. You weren’t sure how long time had passed, but there was chatter in your ear and you gasped back to life.

“We’re drowning! Does anybody copy? Mayday!” Rhodey’s voice rang a little choppy.

You groaned as you pushed yourself up, feeling the same water building around you. Rhodey, Rocket and Hulk came into view and you forced yourself up, having to crouch because of the fallen pieces of cement. You rushed over as water continued to fill the small cramped area, and came to Bruce’s side.

Your boots cemented themselves to whatever ground you stood on and helped push the cement that was threatening you all. “I got you, big guy.”

See you on the other side, man,” Rhodey said to Rocket who was next to him. The water was quickly rising, and this didn’t feel real.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Bruce and you couldn’t bear the weight, not with the water circling your necks. It was an ironic death, because your life did flash before your eyes. Seeing your parents death, seeing Tony again, that date with Steve where he kissed you in the rain, then the flashes of Siberia, Natasha’s last smile.. You wouldn’t admit this to anyone until much later, but you welcomed this ending.

Suddenly something cupped you all and air rushed around you. The large hand hugged you all carefully, and when they released you the scene of the outside world was a punch in the stomach, but there was no time to reflect. You could see that Purple Titan from this far, and you could also make out the size of his army.

And by the looks of it, Bruce’s snap worked.

Bruce leaped out of Scott’s hand and Rhodey, back in his suit hovered with Rocket, and you landed by his side. The chants of the Wakandan tribes ring in the air, but one voice cuts over the comms in your suit and you clutch your fists.

“Avengers!” Steve calls out.

“Assemble.”

Both forces charge one another, Thanos still on the battlefield pointing his legion on. You had flown in with Rhodey by your side as both sides met in a chaotic middle, and landed before one of the ugly Sakaaran aliens and ricocheting them backwards with the repulsors in your palm. Asgardians, Wakandan forces, wizards, and fellow Avengers fought all around you. Landing by your side, your brother shot another alien backwards past you.

“You alright?” his voice projected into your suit. An alien charged you and you grabbed it around the neck and propelled yourself upwards before using the momentum to slam the body back down to the ground.

“Oh just the usual Tuesday,” you replied before someone landed beside you two.

“Mr. Stark! Hey! Holy cow-” the young kid started. You gave your brother an understanding nod, and flew back up into the air, eyes landing on an incoming Leviathan, heading straight for Clint.

“Anyone have my back with the big space worm?” You asked over the comms, while cycling through the weapon options of your suit quickly.

“I got it!” Scott called over the comms and you took a play out of your brothers book. Scott was charging forward and as the Leviathan came near the forces fighting below, he punched the space worm, and with your charge ready, a small missile shot out from your suit and into a now exposed piece of flesh and exploded the Leviathan. Scott continued on, but in your state of distraction one of the Chitauri from the ground leapt up and pulled your downwards.

Shocked, the alien slammed your back down to the ground, and with a scepter like device flourished downward to pin you. You stopped the scepter just before impacting your chest and huffed and you tried to push them off, but they’re a lot heavier than they look. Before you have time to panic, the alien is thrown off of you, and a couple shots ring through the air.

Standing above you is Bucky Barnes.

Barnes lowers his gun and looks down at you, before offering his exposed vibranium hand for you to take. Without hesitation, you grip his hand and he pulls you up but not without lingering his hand in yours before letting you go, and you give him a nod.

“Thank you,” you tell him. “That’s two I owe you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Barnes replied. Both of your attention is pulled away when chatter erupts in your ears.

“We have incoming!” Someone shouted. Everyone turned their attention above as the looming ship Thanos arrived in began to fire. The same explosions that rocked the Compound hit the ground in the same destructive way, but the wizards (you really needed to learn the correct term for them) began to make shields to cover the people around them. You projected the shield Tony had integrated into these new suits and held it above you while Barnes shot at a couple more aliens who were still attempting to attack.

“Guess that’s only one you owe me,” Barnes said next to you and you let your helmet disappear to look at him fully.

“Did you just make a joke?” You asked and he shrugged.

“I do that sometimes,” he replied and you smiled a bit before your helmet reappeared over your face.

Above, you could just barely make out the Spider kid with the gauntlet being carried away on a Pegasus before you see them get knocked off the winged horse. But there was no telling how to get the ship to stop firing on both forces below, and that started to sit badly in the pit of your stomach. But in near perfect timing, the cannons stopped, and everyone around looked at one another in question (including you and Barnes). Your shield disappeared and the cannons moved to point upwards, and shot into the sky.

“What are they firing at?” You asked over the comms, before FRIDAY answered that something was entering the atmosphere.

In a blazing ball of glory shoots down from the sky and into a part of the ship, straight through, and then back in, all before shooting out as the ship began to crumble below her. You smiled behind your helmet before refocusing on the scene before you.

Get the gauntlet to the brown van, and put an end to Thanos once and for all.

“See you on the other side, Barnes,” you commented to him before shooting back off into the thick of it all. In a matter of seconds Thanos threw his sword towards the brown van and almost in slow motion, the gauntlet is lost in the dirt. You land besides Steve, who seemed to have almost forgot you had been here during this.

“(Y/N)-”

“We can’t let him get that gauntlet again,” you said to him, your eyes trained on your brother who was heading that way. “We can’t lose anyone else.”

Instead of arguing with you, Steve nodded in agreement and he outstretched his hand, and Mjolnir flew into his grasp, his shield on the other arm. Side by side you charged towards Thanos just as he smacked your brother away, Thor arriving at the same time. The two men teamed up to distract Thanos, and you focused your attention on the gauntlet, whose stones shined under the grim that now governed it. You could see Thanos overpower both Thanos and Steve, and with no one else in sight you picked the gauntlet up and back into the air you went. But you didn’t get very far, a large hand grabbing ahold of one of your legs and pulled you backwards, and for the first time you came face to face with the Titan who ruined everything.

Thanos used his free hand to grab a hold of your neck and released your leg, and you felt the metal of your suit dig into your sin as you gasped for air. Thanos looked you over, as if he could see your frightened expression behind your suit, and with his free hand he plucked the gauntlet from you and looked it over. His hand still was tight around your neck, and your vision began to fade before he looked back at you.

“Pathetic,” he muttered to you, before tossing you away. You weren’t sure how far you landed, but the impact shocked your body. You could feel yourself come in and out of consciousness, hazy vision of the dark clouds in the sky moving ever so slightly each time you came too. It wasn’t until the snarl of an Outrider nearing you did you finally find the strength to push yourself up, but before it lunged at you.. It disappeared into the wind like dust.

Pushing yourself up, you watched as all around all of Thanos’ different forces began to crumble away into dust. The Chitauri, the Sakaraans, and the Outriders all disappear before your very eyes in the same manner half the world did five years ago. You pushed yourself forward, over a heap of debris in what seemed like just enough time to see Thanos sit himself down in the middle of an open area. Thunder crackled above, and Thanos crumbled away into dust as well.

It.. It was over. It was really over.

Your helmet disappeared so you could see the spectacle for yourself. The only people still around were the Avengers, and everyone who helped that day (you would call them Avengers as well). You smiled a bit as your eyes landed on Steve who was focused somewhere else, but then he looked around frantically before spotting you. His expression made your chest hurt as you looked to where he had been staring previously.

No..

You could see Tony fall to the ground and people begin to surround him. There was an urgency in each step you took and when someone tried to stop you you pulled your hand from their grasp to get closer. You needed to see your brother, he had to be okay.

He just had to be.

When you finally got to his side you felt your heart stop. Peter was being pulled off the ground by Rhodey, while Pepper took his spot. She was stroking the side of Tony’s face, and whispering something to him you couldn’t hear. You found yourself taking in every detail, but still you couldn’t believe what you were witnessing. Tony stared off into the distance, his body was… It was just completely eaten up from what you knew were the stones. He was the one who snapped, and you shook your head in disbelief.

He was supposed to go home after this.

People looked at you, and Pepper glanced behind to meet your gaze. She held out her hand and you took a heavy step forward, until you kneeled down in front of your big brother… But his eyes held nothing in them anymore. Carefully you grabbed his hand that Pepper wasn’t holding and you gave him a squeeze, not really sure what to say.

With a shaky hand you reached out to stroke the side of his face that wasn’t burned, but your touch did nothing to get a response from him. You could feel the tears fall down your cheeks as you watched him barely breath, and you shook your head.

“I love you so much,” you managed before the sobs in your chest ached to be released. “I love you-”

Just as you were struggling to get the last words out, the light of his arc reactor went out. You gasped lowly as Pepper fell forward to sob into Tony’s shoulder, and someone pulled you off the ground as your sobs were just starting. Steve had pulled you into his embrace as you cried, and the somber feeling carried through everyone else.

You had lost the last piece of family you had left.

Uncertainty. That was the one thing that had settled into your life those days between the battle and Tony’s funeral. Those of you who needed it found yourselves in a hotel in the city, and each of your days blended together in the same way. You slept all day, most of the time waking up and opting to stay in bed and stare ahead.. Your eyes burned, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Steve stayed with you, though it was hard on him. When you first arrived, you nearly immediately got into the bed and under the sheets, and he couldn’t coax you out for two days. He opened the blinds to the windows, but you stared blankly out, and when he came with food you told him you weren’t hungry. He tried to help, but he didn’t know how.

The day before the funeral, when he finally got you to eat oatmeal (even if it was just a couple spoonfuls) and managed to get you into the shower, he tucked you back into bed and you went to sleep once more. He stayed in the room for a while, his own thoughts heavy on his mind, before going to the one person he knew would understand him the most.

When Bucky answered the door, he gave him a sad smile and let him into his room. Steve walked in and stopped in front of the windows overlooking the city, which was now bustling with life again. Bucky came up behind him, and Steve could hear him open the mini fridge in the room and pull something out.

“How is she?” Bucky asked. Steve sighed and turned back to face his friend while crossing his arms.

“I got her to eat a bit, but Buck… I’ve never seen her like this and I.. I don’t know what to do,” Steve admitted. Bucky sat himself on the edge of his bed with a water bottle in his hand and sighed.

“You just have to be there for her, Steve,” Bucky offered. “No matter how long it takes.”

The guilt on his conscience was too much, and Steve nodded in response. He took a seat in the chair across from the bed and rubbed his hands together, all while Bucky took sips from his water and watched him closely. Bucky knew he was holding something back.

“Steve.. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Steve looked up to meet his best friend's gaze, before looking back down to the ground. “I… I don’t think I belong here anymore, Buck.”

Bucky’s brows narrowed as he looked at his friend. Where was this coming from? Hethought you two would’ve worked things out in the five years he was gone, Bucky had only assumed so since Steve was by your side during this.. He thought Steve moved on from this kind of talk. “What do you mean Steve.”

“What if I should go back?” Steve asked him, meeting Bucky’s gaze again. “There’s a way now and… And I saw Peggy-”

“You saw Peggy?” Bucky asked, and Steve gave him a nod. “Steve now think about this… I thought you were over this, I thought you were set on making things right with (Y/N)-”

“I was,” Steve cut him off this time. “But Buck when I saw Peggy… There’s something telling me that… That it was always supposed to be her.”

“Yeah, maybe back then,” Bucky conceded. “But Steve think about now. You’re here for a reason, not back there… I thought you passed this.”

“Maybe I never was,” Steve asserted. Bucky looked over his friend, and he shook his head and stood up again.

“I think you should consider this a lot more than you have… Because there is someone really hurting right now, and she needs you,” Bucky told him. “I don’t know if you two worked it out over these last few years but Steve you need to think about this.”

Tony was… Exceptional. He was what you had always wanted to be when you grew up. And maybe that was more true now than ever.

You found yourself unable to do a lot of things the last few days, including dress yourself for this funeral. You felt sickly, but the cries had drawn themselves out and left you too tired to continue today. You were there for the entirety of Tony’s message to his family, and Steve was still by your side as Pepper set a wreath with an old arc reactor into the lake by their home.

You felt empty. Emptier and more alone than you had ever felt.

When you managed to be alone you had wandered off by yourself to Tonys’ work shed and pried it open. Dust lingered in the air, and you entered slowly with hands shoved into the pockets of the coat you had been wearing. You were chilly, probably getting sick, but you ignored the thought as you turned the light on to see better.

What you had been searching for was staring at you like it had been weeks ago. Slightly discolored, the photo of Tony and you from when you were younger screamed at you of a feeling you’d never feel again. You reached out for it with a shakiness you couldn’t control and grabbed it, and traced your fingers over the glass front before holding it to your chest in an effort to comfort the pain in your heart.

The floor echoed as someone entered, and you wiped the tears from your face as they came up behind you. They didn’t sound like Steve’s footsteps, and you turned to face the person who must’ve followed you out.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Bucky Barnes said to you. You found yourself nodding and looked back down at the photo you were clinging onto.

“Me too,” you admitted quietly. When you met Bucky’s gaze again he looked like he wanted to say something, but Steve came up behind him and the moment was stopped. Steve glanced between you two before refocusing on you, and he cleared his throat.

“Happy has something for you,” Steve admitted and you gave him a nod. Steve waited for you to pass him before Bucky turned his way and gave him a knowing look. Though they hadn’t discussed it since, Bucky hoped Steve had come to his senses.

Things never felt normal for you, not as soon as people seemed to hope it would. You tried to be more.. Enthusiastic. But how could you just be okay after that?

Weeks had passed since the funeral, and you didn’t feel any better. Happy had given you a drive with a message he said Tony had left for you, but you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to listen to it. Not yet, maybe ever. It was hard enough seeing his face plastered on the news, and in depth reporting on the Stark legacy, with people questioning what you would contribute in the family’s wake. Even Steve had asked you about your commitment to one another… You hate to admit it but you told him you couldn’t right now, not with this pain in your heart. He told you he understood. You weren’t sure if he noticed, but you tucked the ring he had given you back into the velvet box, and then away safely.

But things were uneasy between you two, and you did what you always do. When Bruce called with work, you accepted it. Anything to get you mind off the thoughts that ran rampant. There was one last thing that needed to be done: the stones needed to be returned.

You had memorized every detail of Tony’s work when it came to the Quantum portal. Bruce and you had replicated one in record time, and on a sunny day you stood there beside him double checking the trajectories. Steve had volunteered to return the stones, with no arguments from anyone on the matter.

“Now, remember,” Bruce explained to Steve. “You have to return the stones to the exact moment you got them. Or you're gonna open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.”

“Don’t worry Bruce, clip all the branches,” Steve said as he messed with the com in his ear. You were too focused on the conversations that unfolded, your mind drifting off for a moment before being pulled back with Bruce setting his hand on your back.

“You okay?” He asked, and you nodded and returned to finalizing the jump.

“I’m fine,” you reassured him and looked up to see Bucky and Steve hug for a moment. Steve stepped up onto the platform and the familiar Quantum suit appeared over him. He picked up the case that had all the stones, and Mjolnir as well.

“How long is this gonna take?” Sam asked.

“For him? As long as he needs. For us? Five seconds,” Bruce explained before meeting Steve’s look. “We’ll meet you back here, okay?”

Steve looked at you, with a look on his face you couldn’t quite place. Your stomach felt like it was twisted in a knot, even though he gave a nod and looked back Bruce’s way.

“You bet,” Steve replied.

“Going quantum in three, two, one..” Bruce counted down before Steve disappeared. You intently watched his stream disappear on the monitor you had before you, and Bruce started counting again. “And returning in five, four, three two, one-”

When Steve didn’t reappear you frantically looked for his stream location, only to see it shoot past his return point. “He blew right past his time stamp-”

Bruce moved you out the way and your gaze focused on the empty Quantum portal, and you shook your head a bit. You could hear the conversations around you, but couldn’t quite make out the words being said. All you knew was Steve didn’t come back. When everyone went quiet your attention went to the three men who were focused in the distance, with Sam heading towards a figure who hadn’t been there before.

You stepped off the platform you had been working on and took a few steps in the grass closer to where Bucky was standing and watching whatever was unfolding. You had your disbelief, but that was crumbled the minute you saw Sam take the shield, and you could now make out it was an old man.

When Tony died time had all but warped together.. But what you were seeing right now had felt like the ground was taken out from under you. The older man had stood and shaken Sam’s hand, and when they looked back at Bucky, when you could see those eyes even from this far you stumbled backwards. They were Steve’s eyes.

Confusion… Panic… Hurt. Everything coursed through you at once, and ignoring the calls from whoever tried to get you to stay, to probably talk about it, you turned away from the scene and pulled the arc attachment from your pocket and desperately threw it onto your chest. The suit that you hadn’t worn since the battle appeared out your body, hid your face behind a helmet and you shot off from the ground with only one destination in your mind.

You had never used the fastest flight power Tony’s suits had to offer but you did that day for the first time. You needed to get back to the hotel you had been staying at quickly, and when you landed on the roof and your suit disappeared as you ran for the entrance to the building, you needed to find it.

Out of breath by the time you made it to your room and threw open the door and it shut behind you, you overlooked your room and couldn’t get your mind together. You hurried over to the bedside table you had hidden what you were looking for and pulled it out the housing completely, only to find it empty.

A frantic panic flooded you, and in a matter of minutes you had nearly destroyed the hotel room, overturning every piece of furniture, overlooking every crevice you could find. You rested your back against a wall and breathed heavily, before sliding down and for the first time in weeks, fresh sobs left your body.

Steve Rogers had taken his ring back. And now you were truly alone…

...In 1974, Howard Stark was going to unveil his City of the Future to the world, but was having a hard time coming up with the right words. Tony had interrupted him once, though he couldn’t hold it against the kid, he was only four and Howard worked late nights. With Maria talking about wanting another kid, Howard was doing whatever he could to set them up for success, and here he was, getting ready to record a message for them.

He just needed to get something off his chest, and he leaned back against his desk with his arms crossed before him, and searched his mind for the right words. He tapped his foot lightly before sighing under his breath.

“I’ve never been a man of many words, as crazy as that sounds. But trying to build all of this, I’ve had to put my best foot forward,” Howard started. He touched the model beside him and looked at the camera. “You don’t know it yet but your mother is talking about having another baby, and I’m… I’m looking forward to that, when it happens.

“Tony, you are too young to understand this right now, so I thought I would put it on film for you. I built this for you, and by the looks of it your brother or sister, and some day you two will realize that it represents a whole lot more than just people's inventions. It represents my life's work. This is the key to the future. I'm limited by the technology of my time, but one day you'll figure this out. And when you do, you will change the world.”

Later on Howard would go on to edit this message, just weeks before his death, to include another message. This one would go unheard for years. Until you were ready, this message sat alongside Tony’s on the drive he left for you.

“You turned five this year. When someone told me that I would become a sucker for my little girl, man did they mean it,” Howard chuckled. Something caught his attention off screen, but he looked at the camera he had set up in his study and on a rare occasion he smiled. “With Tony, he became my vision, the reason why I wanted my work to make the biggest impact on the world… So that he would have the best future. But you? You’re my aspiration. And just like Tony, I know you’re going to change the world… If you both sat through these messages, I just want you to know one last thing.

“What is, and always will be, my greatest creation... is you two."

- - - - - - - - - -

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[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Six

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 6 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. All trigger warnings will be listed before the chapter. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: physical assault; mentions of past sexual assault (brief); abusive parental relationship; canon violence; ANGST; mentions of attempted suicide; mentions of drugs, drug smuggling, and human trafficking; bullying and harassment; SMUT (unprotected sex; hair pulling; ass smack!; ALL THAT GOOD CONSENT; talking a lot during sex lol); 18+ ONLY PLEASE!

Word Count: 21,400+

A/N: ya’ll my timeline is completely fucked (age wise)... like... anything remotely romantic happening between Steve x Female Reader happened AFTER Infinity War when the reader was already 19-20. I just realized that my years were off in a certain flashback......... so yes, everyone knew the reader while they were still in their teens but they’re literally 26-27 present day so don’t think too much of it lmao i can’t really fix it now lol

~

An Avengers Safehouse, 2023, 10:45 pm  

    Every door was closed and locked for the night. You had made sure of it. A distraction now would ultimately destroy any other chance you might get, and this chance was already overdue. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you jogged down the hallways to the common room you knew he was in. He had been catching up on his reading for the past two days now, a small pinch of solace during this hectic week. 

Your feet were heavy, invisible anchors shackled to your ankles and dragging you lower to the depths of that personal hell you had been burning in. Glancing over your shoulder, you measured the distance between you and your room, chest beginning to feel tight as your lungs forgot the taste of air. It was like you were walking to your own personal execution, flesh and bone ready to disconnect from your essence. But you weren’t walking toward anything dangerous - you were walking to him. To speak with him. To be with him. 

You knew you saw it when everyone returned from the heist. He wasn’t himself - he regretted not using the stones for himself, possibly - you truly didn’t know why. You enjoyed the reunions and getting to reconnect with everyone. Grasping and holding Wanda in your arms was outright magical, to touch one of your best friends after nearly accepting the possibility of never doing that again - you had a similar reaction when you collapsed into Peter’s arms with the weight of those five long years. 

And you knew Steve was grateful as well, he had to be, but his exclusion of you hurt. You had shrugged it off the first time - perhaps he was tired, wanted more private time to catch up with Sam and Bucky, to be with his friends as you were with yours. The second time he dismissed you, it was during a dinner. The seat beside you was empty, it wasn’t even that close to you, and he decided to skip dinner altogether. 

But the third time, the most wretched of times, had shown you that something was truly wrong. This wasn’t the Steve you had grown close to these five years. He was distant, cold, a completely changed person that only spoke when absolutely necessary. 

It was a nightmare, one of the worst ones you ever had, and Friday had alerted the only other room near yours - Steve’s. The knocks were loud, frantic in their purpose, and Friday unlocked the door. You were shaken awake, tugged into a chest that wasn’t as firm as the one you remembered, and soft whispers of ‘you’re okay, you’re alright’ drowned out the sounds of your panicked whimpers. You reached out to stroke the person’s face, eyes snapping open when you realized it wasn’t him, it wasn’t Steve. 

‘Bucky?’ you had whispered, hands still stroking his face as he held you. 

‘It’s me. You’re okay, you’re alright.’

‘Where’s Steve? Is he okay?’

Bucky immediately tensed, expression turning somber as he tried to give an acceptable explanation. 

‘He’s… he’s not coming, doll.’

‘What do you mean he’s not coming? He always comes, he-”

‘Doll, hey,’ he shook his head, biting his bottom lip. ‘He’s not coming.’

The broken question of ‘why?’ had tumbled from your lips until Bucky’s rocking had calmed you enough to fall back into a deep sleep. And the next morning, Steve announced he was moving from the safehouse and back to his apartment permanently. 

And it made no sense considering you two were on wonderful terms just a few weeks ago babysitting Morgan. It was like he flipped a switch and erased you from his memory. 

You deserve an explanation. You deserve to have your questions answered, to see the look in his eyes as he tried to explain himself, to witness his fumbling as you caught him off guard. You deserved to know.  

“Why are you avoiding me?”

The common area was illuminated by a soft, yellow light from the lamp in the corner of the room, the moonlight only shining over the kitchen. Steve sat on the lone couch near the soft light, book in his lap and already half-way read. 

No one really snuck up on him - no one had the chance to with his enhanced hearing - but you succeeded. The book nearly fell from his lap, a hitch in his breath alerting you that he really wasn’t expecting anyone. He set the book down on the nearby table and slowly stood up. “I’m not avoiding you.”

You will not cry right now. 

You scoffed, “So, leaving a room when I walk in is just a common occurrence now? What about avoiding me completely? You don’t say good morning, you don’t tell me hello, you don’t even sit near me anymore-”

“It’s late, and these briefings have really taken a toll on me, agent.” Steve sighed and avoided your eyes as he walked right past you and into the kitchen. 

He hadn’t actually done it, but that certainly was a slap in the face. The invisible shackles wrapped around your ankles were pulling harder, drowning you in your grief.

You mindlessly whipped your head at him, watching as he grabbed the milk carton and proceeded to do absolutely nothing with it. You clenched your teeth, “Agent?” 

He did not immediately correct himself. The room was now deathly silent, minus the quick breaths under your nose. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Don’t make this into something it’s not.”

Your forehead strained from the pained expression you held, tears brimmed and burning as they threatened to fall. You walked towards him and tried to keep a steady demeanor, anger drowning your veins the quickest it ever has. “What is it then? ‘Cause you’ve been calling me by my real name for the last five years! You’re my friend!”

Everytime your name slipped from his mouth it made you like him more. His presence was no longer uncomfortable or forced, but rather calming and needed. This friendship was built high and mighty these five years, walls seemingly strong. You worried there was true vulnerability in those foundations.

Speaking to Rhodey or Bruce just wasn’t the same as speaking to Steve. Helping him take out the trash, buying coffee for one another, asking the other what they wanted to watch on television. But now your name was absent from his voice, restrained and gutted from existence as if to purposely hurt your now healing mind. 

Steve ignored the desperate portion of your argument, “It’s time to focus on the new threats this world faces-”

“What are you talking about? Why are you shutting me out like I’m not important to you?”

His jaw tensed, eyes still distant. “I’m not shutting you out. I’m saying we need to focus on the fights we thought we left behind-”

“You mean my dad? Because I’m pretty fucking sure he’s looking to only kill me.”

“Don’t joke about that-”

You had no physical control now. The anger was at its boiling point, seeping through the corners of your eyelids and corners of your mouth. “Joke about what? Why are you not letting me in?”

Steve gripped the counter, head hanging low but voice powerful enough to shake through you. “Stop interrupting me!”

A solitary tear hit the floor beneath you, voice now wobbly and unsure of its chosen words. “What happened to you?”

Steve remained silent for only a moment, hands still gripping the expensive granite. “Nothing happened.”

He ran his right hand down his face to relieve some of the tense muscles. He continued to speak.

“Now that everyone’s back and the same threats are picking up where they left off, I’ve got bigger problems on my hands.”

You scoffed again, “Oh, so now Scott’s time heist has another negative consequence?”

In a matter of a millisecond, Steve turned suddenly and was now towering over you. Your back instantly straightened. “Don’t be smart with me. You know what this means.”

You just looked up at him, eyes slightly fogging up but the rest of your face still determined. You spoke low, searching his face for any indication that he would swing. No, he wouldn’t. Ever. “Spell it out for me then. I’m still seething from not hearing my first name yet.”

Steve ignored your quip, “Now that your father’s back, we need to finish what we started.”

You stared at him in disbelief, “You don’t think he’s actually going to pick up where he left off, right? Not now!”

“He already has. Fury notified me through a secure channel,” Steve declared, stepping away from you as his mind finally rewired. 

You instinctively wrapped your arms around your torso, “No…”

“Business as usual.”

Your voice raised an octave, desperation now dousing your plea of ignorance, “No, you’re lying. You’re a goddamn liar!”

“Calm down, agent. This isn’t the time-”

It was your turn to crowd Steve, stepping toward him and pushing him backwards. Your mind told you to not touch him, that he never touched you, and that it was horribly wrong. But his blank face prompted another push, your body acting on its own will. 

“Agent? Agent! Steve, what the fuck is going on?”

His voice was deeper, “If you yell one more time-”

“You’ll what?” 

Neither of you spoke. In that moment, you wondered if anyone had heard this fight as you and Steve weren’t exactly being quiet. You knew your voice traveled down several hallways and his strong one practically shook the floors. So you pushed that thought to the back of your cramped brain, head held high and eyes boring into Steve’s.

“Now that you got your old friends back, I’m useless. Is that right?”

His eyes widened, “Where in the hell is that coming from?”

“I’m right, right? You don’t want to be my friend anymore, I was a rebound all these years?”

Steve started shaking his head, eyes closed as he tried to calculate the best possible response. He could feel his lungs burn, almost like they did before the serum, and he realized he was throwing himself into a panic attack. It tickled its way up his throat, clenching the sides and dragging its nails across the sensitive surface.

You were still speaking.  

“You know, you’re still pissed that the first name I spit out to Fury when I went undercover was yours. You never wanted to help me with it.”

“Don’t start-”

You knew you shouldn’t have continued, this argument proved childish since he first called you by an old, nameless nickname. But it seemed he had no intention of apologizing or providing you with an explanation for his sudden absence.

“You’re still fuming about it. You’re still fuming about your image being ruined. Good ol’ Captain America as a secret, undercover drug dealer!”

Steve finally showed proof of cracking, hands gripping his hair harshly. “Y/N, I said don’t start! I’m finished!”

But you persisted, now screaming and countless, frustrated tears tainting your red cheeks. “You can’t fucking stand me because I tarnished that fucking star on your chest! I made you look bad to a bunch of fucking criminals!”

Steve grabbed the nearest object, the coffee maker Tony had bought for their six year formation anniversary, and flung it across the room. It shattered into the wall, leftover cold coffee staining the peach paint, the glass littered over the floor. “That’s enough!”

The sound of its impact made your stomach churn. You were frozen in place, almost certain that Steve would throw you next, and your legs were suddenly cold. “Who are you?”

“I don’t know anymore,” Steve choked out, tears forming in his eyes as well. His chest rapidly raised and lowered, his breathing becoming erratic. Even he wondered why no one had come to check up on you two.

For the sake of Steve’s sanity, you whispered your next reply. 

“You hate me that much-”

“Y/N-”

And you were suddenly overpowered by a sense of calm acceptance. “You hate me so much that you can’t even stand to look at me.”

“Please...”

“I’m finished, too. From now on… you’re my Captain. I’m just an agent. I’ll answer your call to help fight. That’s it.”

You had thought he would drop to his knees and apologize. This Steve wasn’t your Steve - not that Steve or any part of him was ever yours - but it was almost impossible to comprehend such a blank set of emotions from the same man who helped you with laundry, remembered the captions of your photo posts and teased you about them later, or casually sketched your outline in his sketchbook. He began to disregard your kindness, your presence, your voice the moment Wanda held Vision’s face as he whispered his goodbye, as she got her closure, as she had to say goodbye for the thousandth time. 

But nothing could prepare you for his quick acceptance of your offer.

“I think that’s for the best.”

You nodded slowly, arms falling to your sides. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did - hell, you didn’t love the guy - but he was so much more than just a colleague now. You had literally saved the world together. He was your shoulder to cry on and you were his. Did you love him? 

“Just so you know, I wasn’t faking any of it.” 

Steve looked as if he was going to say something but closed his mouth. You swore you could see his bottom lip trembling, but he remained still. He stared anywhere but your face. 

You turned to leave, body ready to give away and tumble into the mound of pillows calling your name. But you held yourself up at the doorway, turning back to Steve and meeting his eyes - he was already watching you walk away. 

You swallowed hard, “And I’ll be the honest one here, tonight - you were the only thing stopping me from putting a bullet in my head for five years.”

Present Day, 2025, 7:02am

     You awoke startled, your gasp a little raspy as it sounded off in the quiet room. Your internal clock was already stressing you out, letting you know that you seriously had to get up now, even before your alarm rang. 

Dread swam in the pit of your stomach, swirling the pound of breadsticks you had last night. Yesterday had been your last ‘in between’ day, the last day to truly map out your next steps before you actually had to execute them. You would see everyone today, tomorrow, and the next - the next the final, the endgame. 

You rolled over and glanced at Steve. His bed was empty, sheets folded and pillows fluffed, and the bathroom was open and empty. 

With a pinch of your eyebrows, you groaned as you flipped your legs over the side of your bed. You stilled, but there was no other sound. 

Steve really wasn’t here. 

For a second, you were angry. You couldn’t believe he literally left you alone, after basically defiling you and you himself, on a day that would for sure strike a major nerve in your crippling anxiety. It was low, like you were left to pick up your heels and proceed with the walk of shame down the hotel hallways.

But then the next second, you were relieved. You could take this moment to relive last night, to hatch out every single detail, to somehow make sense of just what the hell happened. It had been so fucking hot, so fucking overdue, and god, did you want to do it again. Steve’s absence allowed you to squeal in both delight and disbelief. 

You had fondled… had sex with?... humped?... your literal Captain. Sure, you had crossed a boundary in this ten-year friendship and rivalry, a boundary that was now completely exed out and erased really, but it wasn’t literal sex. Right?

It was certainly something if you had learned one thing from Sex Ed 101. Intimacy was intimacy. Yeah, you and Steve shared… intimacy. 

It took all your willpower to shrug off the rest of the blankets and start getting ready. There wasn’t much to do except hope that your guns didn’t jam or Seda didn’t ambush you. Quickly shooting off a text to Wanda, you waited for her much needed call. 

‘Hey, what’s up?’

You let out a long hum, face lifted toward the ceiling as you thought about how you would phrase last night’s events to her. “So, like, I’m gonna kill myself.”

‘Back up. Explain?’

“Ahhhhh, Wanda! I fucked up. We fucked up.”

Wanda’s voice sounded frantic, ‘Did the mission go wrong? Where’s Scott? Steve? Torres?’

You groaned, stomping your foot like the literal child you were. “Wanda, me and Steve did something last night.”

Wanda was silent for a few moments, her quick breaths evening out as she collected her thoughts. ‘Are you trying to tell me, that while trying to tell me you had sex with Steve last night, you made it sound like we would have had to all suit up to save your asses all the way across the country?’

Grateful she couldn’t see you blush, you responded as if you were trying to still keep the events a secret. “Well, when you put it like that!”

‘Did you and Steve actually…?’

“No, no! But we… touched and stuff.”

‘Is this high school? Spit it out.’

It was basic instinct to inspect the room again before you admitted it. “We sort of just, got each other off. Like, handjobs and such.”

Wanda let out a sound that resembled both a groan and a chuckle. ‘High school.’

You threw yourself back into bed, rolling around and throwing pillows all over the place. “It was so hot.”

‘You don’t need to give me the specifics.’

“Who else am I supposed to talk with? Bucky?”

Wanda choked on her laugh, ‘Okay, okay. I see your point.’

“What does this mean?” you asked both her and yourself. 

‘I’m gonna tell you something that you might not like to hear, okay?’

“Ugh, don’t scare me.”

Wanda chuckled before she continued, ‘This doesn’t surprise me.’

You practically strained your back from snapping up from bed so quickly. “What do you mean ‘you’re not surprised’?”

There was slight shuffling on the other line. ‘I owe Peter fifty dollars.’

You huffed loudly, “What do you mean by that, Wanda?”

Wanda sighed, ‘Look, we weren’t here during those five years. We weren’t here to see you two together. But Bruce told us how you two were during that time. Even when you were ignoring each other for months after, you didn’t hesitate to protect each other.’

You shook your head, as if she could see you. “He abandoned me for a good while.”

Wanda interrupted, ‘You saved him at the height of your fighting.’

You rolled your eyes, “He’s my Captain, of course I saved him.”

‘You didn’t have to.’

Your thoughts were flying at a hundred miles an hour, colliding with one another at top speeds. You opted to forgo that memory. It was shelved, to be revisited later. 

Changing the subject to a much less dramatic topic, the phone call lasted for another fifteen minutes before you seriously had to finish getting ready. 

The talk helped. But it didn’t answer any questions you had. The answers lay in the one place you really didn’t want to explore right now. Maybe after breakfast.

      Scott stumbled out of the elevator with very sleepy eyes, fingers still digging into their corners as he made his way to the hotel bar. Steve was seated in the farthest chair from the entrance just casually sipping orange juice. 

“What was so urgent that I had to wake up before my alarm?” Scott groaned as he slid into the seat beside him. 

Steve’s eyes were glued to his drink. He was bouncing his leg wildly. “I’m sorry, I just…”

It didn’t take a genius to know that when someone was nursing an orange juice in the hotel bar, head hanging low and with a massive pout, there was something incredibly wrong. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m just cranky when I have to get up early.”

Steve waved his hand, “No, don’t apologize. I get it. I mean it.”

Scott ordered his own glass. He spread his lips into a thin line, “Did you want to talk? I’m a great listener. I could listen to Luis go on for hours on end.”

“I need to tell someone.”

“I’m all ears.”

Steve hesitated for only a second, downing the orange juice as if it was a shot. He ordered another. “I kissed Y/N last night.”

“Are you serious?” Scott’s eyes widened and he gurgled his juice on accident. He didn’t know what to say. Congratulations? 

“And we messed around a little bit.”

Now Scott tilted his head to the side and gave the super soldier an amused glare. “Messed around? What is this, the third grade?”

Steve cringed, “I hope to God no third graders are messing around.”

His juice was long forgotten now. “Then call it like it is, Captain. You ‘serviced the Venus’, you ‘made whoopee’, you -”

“That’s calling it like it is?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Very. We just… touched and stuff.”

Steve’s awkward hand gestures caused Scott’s lip to twitch itself into a weird smile. “You ‘cleaned your rifle’? You did the ‘loop-de-loop?”

“Where in the hell are you getting these things from? You think we actually talked like this back in the forties?” Steve covered his ears and lay his forehead against the counter. 

“Sorry, sorry. I was just having a little fun.” Scott apologized, trying to make eye contact even as Steve’s head was lowered. “Sorry, no fun.” Still, Steve remained sheltered. “Damn, man. Did something else happen that you’re not telling me?”

Finally, Steve turned his head to look at Scott but left it resting against the counter. “I feel like we crossed a line.”

“You technically violated the mission code of ethics, but.”

Steve snapped up and covered his face with his hands, index fingers pinching the corners of his eyes. “But kissing her didn’t feel wrong. Holding her didn’t feel wrong.”

Scott was in the middle of a rom com. He had to be. There was always that scene where one of the partners freaked out because they themselves didn’t know their own feelings. They would cower in their own little world for about fifteen minutes, or at least fifteen minutes of screentime, and then gain the courage to talk it through. Scott was just that random friend who happened to ask what was wrong. 

But you and Steve were his teammates. The two of you had helped him get his family back. You had been so excited to try out the time machine, shutting everyone else up as they bullied him for simply having the idea. Steve risked his life for him more times than he could count in the past two years. He always suspected something was wrong between the two of you. But no one was brave enough to openly speak about what had happened that night. He just knew what Sam had told him - ‘It’s none of our business. They’re both acting like children. But Steve, even though I love him with all my heart, royally fucked up.’

“Then why are you so worried? Steve, I wasn’t around those five years. Only you know your relationship with her.”

“I don’t deserve it,” Steve mumbled.

His ears were playing tricks. He had gone deaf. “Huh?”

Steve explained further, his face falling with each new confession he spoke verbally. He hadn’t even discussed these feelings with his therapist. Granted, he only spoke of you when you were being a pain in his ass, but romantically? “I don’t deserve to touch her, to have her, to be with her. I left her alone at her most vulnerable, and that you were here for so you know.”

Scott shook his head, “But I have no real say in that. Like I said, only you know what you feel.”

He finished his juice and leaned back in his chair. He clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder and they both turned their attention to the tiny television mounted on the wall playing the morning news. It was hard to believe that a couple years ago, Scott had completely fangirled over being in Steve’s presence. Now he was one of his closest friends. 

His next thought seemed to register slowly and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Wait, did you leave her to wake up alone?”

Steve paused and bit down on his tongue. “I, may have done that.”

Scott nodded as he received the confirmation. “You know, Bucky and Wanda have a bet going on over which of you will kill the other first. I think you tipped the victory to her, man.”

Steve returned the slap to the shoulder and stood up. “Thanks, Scott.”

He followed Steve out the entrance. “I don’t feel like this conversation is over, but you gotta go back up there. I’m always here if you want to talk.”

Steve sent him a genuine smile as he walked backwards to the stairs instead of the elevator. “Don’t bring it up.”

Scott saluted him, “I may be an idiot, but I’m not stupid.”

“That didn’t make any-”

Scott clicked the button for the elevator and waved Steve off, “It’s from a show my daughter used to watch, hey, you know what, forget about it.”

    Steve doesn’t quite know what propels him up the stairs instead of the elevator, but it’s probably the need to burn at least one calorie before facing the music. It was an idiotic move leaving you alone to unravel such a major change, and Steve was tired of running. The amount of times he claimed he could ‘do this all day’ and yet, he let the final battle dictate his life afterward. He was just so tired of running from things that required him to stay, and staying for things that destroyed his mental health. 

Scott carried the conversation as they reentered the room, finding you already dressed and smiling bright. But that smile was directed at Scott, a brilliant smile that Steve had been the recipient of just yesterday. 

God, he really fucked up, didn’t he?

“We got a plan?”

It was like clockwork, movements fluid and known. The three of you were slightly out of it, missions depleting in urgency and all. The last mission you had been on in the last two years, besides the ones your father sent you on, had been to a base in Prague where you ran a two-week surveillance on a doctor who was trying to recreate the super soldier serum. Even then there wasn’t much of a physical fight and you were mainly there to assist Sam and Bucky. 

“We’ll get there by 9. You’ll have to shrink down before we even pass the gates.”

Scott drafted the specifics in his notebook, taking careful notes on what he was to look for inside your father’s office. He was instructed to hack the keyboard to list the most used formations of characters, scan for fingerprints, and work through the paper files your father hadn’t yet had time to put away. Once a password was figured out, then the hacking would commence during the rehearsal dinner. 

“Y/N and I will be led through the estate by Seda, no doubt. Once you hear that we’re seated and enjoying breakfast, you can start your deep search.”

Scott added the finishing touches to his suit - upgrades from both Hank and Tony, before he passed of course. 

“Anything I should know? I’m going in blind while you guys have some experience with this crowd.”

You attached the camouflage mic to the back of your neck as you responded, “His office hallway doesn’t have cameras. Neither does the inside. You, as well as Steve and I, are under strict orders to not kill anyone.”

Scott squinted his eyes, “I wasn’t planning on doing that anyway.”

You chuckled, “These are violent people, Scott. In order to win, we need to play the part. Which means unless we say the safe word ‘widow’, you can’t intervene.”

Scott searched your face for a joke, the briefing you all had before you shipped out replaying in his head. You had mentioned Seda shot you and that your father basically hated you, but to see you serious now - it was a little unnerving. Sure, he fought aliens and faced off against some of the most evil forces in the universe. But this was family, and when it was family with the evil gene, it made everything much more horrible.

“Okay.”

You all gathered your equipment and headed down to the car. Steve safely hid the shield in the trunk, foregoing any additional weapons than those already attached to his person. He couldn’t risk Ernesto’s men randomly searching the car during breakfast. 

You were already waiting in the passenger seat when Scott gripped Steve’s arm as they finished loading the trunk. 

“You protect her, alright?”

Steve swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew Scott wasn’t doubting his ability to do so, but his trust was being enlisted. There wasn’t even a second option. 

Steve would grip the heavens by their feet and pull for the creation of even more fallen angels just for you. 

“I will.” 

     The drive to the estate was a lot less stressful this time. Only because you knew who to expect now. You wouldn’t be catching up with your sister until tomorrow, and you already had an idea what your father was scheming up. The three of you just drove in silence, Steve at the wheel and Scott in the backseat. 

You thought, maybe Steve didn’t fully regret what happened after all. Leaving in the morning was for sure a dick move, but his attitude wasn’t one of someone who would simply ‘hit it, and quit it’. You took pride in what you knew about your Captain, about Steve as a separate entity, and you always expected the best from him. 

Anyone who thought or assumed otherwise was an idiot.

Scott had shrunk down and prepared his own mics as Steve drove onto the deserted dirt road. There were dozens of cars parked outside, but it looked as if their owners were all workers. Considering the wedding was only two days away and the rehearsal dinner was tomorrow, the workers multiplied and were working overtime. Leave it to your father to make the finishing touches at the last minute. 

Once again, Seda stood outside to greet you and Steve. He looked extra chipper this morning, his aging face contorted into an almost painful smile. And you knew that whenever he smiled at you, he wasn’t harboring the greatest intentions. 

“Good to see you again!”

You slung your arm through Steve’s, unconscious to the fact that Scott stood on your shoulder and hid behind strands of hair. You responded, “Careful, you’ll get cavities with that much sweetness.”

His smile fell slightly, and he looked away to roll his eyes. “Must be contagious considering you’re so full of sugar!”

“You’re weird when you’re nice.”

“Now, I was just about to say the same thing.” Seda held his hand out to Steve, delighted in the strength of his grip. “Captain.”

Steve smirked, a dangerous glint settling in his eyes. The longer hair and beard really did make him look like the anti-Cap. “Sir. Are you joining us for breakfast?”

Seda turned to walk through the open doors. “Of course. Ernesto’s business is as much mine as it is his.”

You let out a tiny snort, “Don’t think he would agree.”

Seda rotated on his heel so quickly the sound of the squeak echoed through the vast mansion. He held his finger out at you, that famous scowl you had grown accustomed to finally making its appearance. “Bite your tongue.”

In an instant, Steve gripped your cheeks and chin with one hand, holding you still to look at Seda. He hated this. He wanted to fight them now.

While you were held in place for him, Seda stepped closer. You could feel the heat of his breath. “I carried this empire while he was dirt.”

Steve’s hand was loose, but his wild look could easily be mistaken for anger toward you. 

Seda’s eyes were cold, filled with an undeniable amount of hatred and selfishness, like he wanted to see you beg for forgiveness. No matter the countless times when any other human being would be crying for mercy, you never did. And Seda despised this skill with all his tainted soul. 

“And look where that got you. Right back in second place.”

For the second time this week, Steve wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole. 

Seda’s facial muscles flinched, but he kept his composure. There were too many outside workers wandering around, instructed already to keep their mouths shut about who employed them and were to be paid under the table. With his own tongue bitten, he muttered almost achingly. “Breakfast is this way.”

Letting go of you after Seda turned back around, Steve gently massaged the sides of your chin for a few seconds as you walked. Turning your head quickly left and right and passing a room with no traceable cameras, you caught his hand and pressed your lips gently to his knuckles. Before he could truly enjoy the gentle gesture, you pulled away. And he knew you had to. You had to.

Scott took his leave, jumping onto the nearby potted plant and connecting back with Torres. 

Breakfast was served on the large patio near the west side of the estate. It overlooked a massive man-made lake, rocks circling the bank, and multiple lake chairs facing it. The estate was well hidden away in the forest, tall pine trees enveloping the illegal nature of all that was said and done. The clouds were creating a dark overcast that meant it was going to rain later, maybe soon, and it was going to be heavy. The crew outback had constructed a massive wooden canopy ‘tent’ that extended from one side of land to the other. So if it did rain on the day of the wedding, the only evidence of it would be the wetness reflecting off the soft violet lights they were just now hanging. The tables were set up, minus the chairs and wall decorations, and the staff were barely constructing the floor. 

By instinct, you had already clocked the easiest exit routes and hiding places. The warehouse near the lake looked sturdy - two windows wide enough to shoot from. Steve would have to crouch down low though, so perhaps the wooden table could serve as a temporary shield. 

There had to be a way to casually bring that shield to both the rehearsal dinner and wedding without raising red flags. 

Seda paused and excused himself. While Steve entertained the questions of some of the men casually strolling through, you reached into your pocket and pulled out some new tech you had been dying to finally use. Tony had messed around with so many personalized gadgets for everyone. Peter had his flying spiders, Clint had his flying stars and arrows, and you had your flying butterflies. Little metallic wonders with life-like wing speed that recorded its surroundings and transcribed for your report later. 

It flew gracefully, circling around the tables and even stopping on the window’s edge for a natural effect before flying near Seda and whoever he was talking to. It fluttered and settled, a small light emitting from its antennas. It would fly back once the subject chosen finished speaking. 

While you waited, you wandered. You hadn’t really explored this estate since you were a child but from what you remembered, there was always something new to discover. As a kid, you had asked whoever was present, ‘Is this real?’, ‘Was it alive before?’, ‘How old is this?’.

Roman busts, paintings hanging and stored alike, the ivory tusks. Didn’t seem like your father was collecting much these days. Dust was settled and undisturbed and the stuffed animals needed a serious scrub. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if your father had stashed away the damn tesseract at one point or another. 

“Oh, yeeesss,” you whispered, scurrying to the trunk hidden below the pile of discarded tablecloths and curtains. No one else ventured to these rooms, and although there were priceless items stashed away here, they normally functioned as the children's playrooms. There was more money to be made selling drugs than selling ancient artifacts. 

Just like many of the other rooms, this room was basically abandoned. No evidence of swiped fingers or anything. Your attention was drawn to the black trunk, scratched up on the left side and lock practically useless. If you remembered correctly, your iPod shuffle and middle school diary should be in here. 

As corny as that sounded, perhaps the diary had something inside you could work with and use to help aid in the mission. 

The trunk creaked and moaned as you lifted the lid open. You blew the excess of cobwebs away, scanning the corners quickly for any live spiders. Just in case. 

You did, in fact, find the diary. But only the first ten pages were filled out and dated, detailing the story, and quote, ‘2011, what a stupid number! Can’t anything but violence happen?’

Yes young Y/N, you thought to yourself, 2012 was one hell of a year and infinitely worse than stupid little 2011. 

The mountain of miscellaneous items was astounding, swirling up the childhood emotions you seriously missed. There was just something about random, mix-matched, old items that made you giddy. 

When Shield returned Steve’s belongings that had been locked in storage or in the museum when he was pronounced KIA, you were the one bouncing up and down behind him as he opened the boxes. He’d inspect the old watch, pencil set, photographs, clothing item, whatever and then pass it over to you. And he’d pretend to act annoyed by your interest, but the fact that you wanted to learn more about Steve and his life before the war - it was humbling. 

‘Hey, Y/N. You want to know how much porn I just found on Seda’s personal laptop?’

Your whole body was overcome by shivers. You nudged the mic to turn it up louder. “Scott, what the fuck?”

He tried to contain his laughter. ‘My mission is to hunt, gather, and hack. You’ll be pleased to know I got more than just their internet history.’

“Ew.”

A small, red velvet box shoved in the upper left hand corner caught your attention. It’s engraving showed none other than ‘Oxford University’ and that was enough to conclude this too was stolen. You chuckled at how ridiculous this all was. 

Believe it or not, the most legal things in the estate were the stuffed exotic animals and tusks of ivory that had been collected before the nationwide bans. 

This small box contained a few dozen coins from ancient Rome, all of different faces and years. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” you mumbled, finger-fishing through the box. You made a mental note to instruct your team to also seize and catalog everything that was stolen here. Give Fury more of a headache. 

The figurehead on one of the coins made you pause for a second. The artwork was not as professional as much larger engravings found on the other coins or artifacts, but the features were proud. It was of a man, curly hair and beard to match, with a prominent and strong nose. If you squint hard enough, the hair and beard were Steve’s, absolutely as he had it groomed right now. Last time Steve had grown his hair out this long he was on the run. Guess he really missed the rugged look. 

But that nose. Strong and long and definitely punched to the brim many times before. The last person to set it had been Clint - and the reset had left it looking slightly crooked. Just like the man on the coin. 

“What a beak you got on you, Rogers,” you smiled. You shut the box after pocketing the coin. Making sure everything else was in place, you exited and checked your mic for any unusual activity. You could hear Steve casually speaking and Scott humming under his breath. 

Your little butterfly was spinning in a large circle until it spotted you. It reattached itself to your belt discreetly. 

Seda marched back, looking more annoyed than when he had first greeted you. “Shall we?”

Similar to how he was situated back in his office, comfortable and relaxed in his element, your father sat closest to the lake around the round table, no doubt enjoying the breeze aimed in his direction. The table was full of various foods - mostly fruit and drinks - but there were sides of meats and bread hidden in the pile. 

Ernesto looked like an innocent old man bathed in the colorful array. He was eighty-two (if you count those five years, then he’s only seventy-seven), and it wasn’t just the fruit that made him seem innocent - with the absence of a scowl or a gun in his unbelievably steady hand, he looked like every old man on the planet. An old man with a secret. 

“It’s not everyday you get to dine with the Captain America!”

Already his voice annoyed Steve. But as eloquent as ever, he responded lightly. “It’s an honor, sir.”

Your father sipped his juice, waiting until you were both seated to continue. “So polite, I remember how it used to be.”

Steve shrugged, “The good ole’ days.”

“Exactly. You see, I’m hoping to bring those good ole’ days back.”

“Gonna run for office?” you quipped, reaching over to pop a grape into your mouth. 

Keeping his eyes trained on Steve, your father retorted. “Your jokes aren’t that funny, Y/N.”

“I think I’m pretty funny,” you mumbled through a funny frown. 

The sooner you get some valuable information, the sooner you could leave. At least, that’s what Steve had been reciting in his head as he bit his tongue at your attempt at being funny. “What did you have in mind?”

Ernesto stretched, motioning for the men behind him to pass him some documents from a nearby table. He passed them to Steve, completely ignoring you. “You see, I’m thinking of expanding business. Not just here in the U.S and in Mexico, but across the Atlantic.”

You resisted the urge to sneak a peek at the documents. So you opted to keep him talking. “Woah, you’re not thinking of toppling White, are you?”

Ernesto scoffed, “You think I have a death wish? No, I’m thinking of joining forces.”

You played dumb. “What?”

Seda squinted, stepping forward and gripping your wrist mid-air, evidently stopping you from popping another grape into your mouth. Steve turned his head to stare at Seda with a real and deep grimace, basically instructing him to let go of you as soon as possible. Acting like an asshole when your father was the instigator was one thing, and he hated that he had to bend over for him. But Seda wasn’t in charge, nor would he ever be again, and his hand on you didn’t have to be tolerated. Yes, he knew to keep up the asshole act, but obsessive and protective boyfriend fit the bill as well, he assumed. 

Reluctantly, Seda got the message and let you go. He answered your question after a few awkward seconds, “Expanding into Europe means we dominate the world. Everyone knows that. Europe is the epicenter.”

Oblivious to the whole stare down, you resumed your questioning. “And we come in, where?”

“Your missions - they take you across the ocean, yes?” your father chimed in. 

“Sometimes, sir. We’re away pretty often.” Steve answered. 

“Then that’s perfect. All those opportunities to smuggle my product on your company planes.”

You scrunched your eyebrows in deep thought, almost like you were doing the math in your head. “I doubt the quinjet would pass a weight inspection, Father.”

Ernesto raised his hands in mock offense. “Your Captain here should be able to pull some strings, no?”

Hiding his discomfort, Steve shrugged like it was no big deal. “It would certainly be a difficult task but we can pull through.”

No. Steve has never handled the product, he has never seen the product being moved, he has never signed off on anything pertaining to said product. Fury did - Fury set up everything, he made sure to keep Steve out of it, he protected the shield, he protected Steve. On your word.

Ernesto knew you were the one handling it. He knew Steve wasn’t anywhere near it since you made it abundantly clear that he only green lit the passage routes. 

He was doing this on purpose. Testing Steve’s loyalty in a way. Tying any Avenger’s gadgets to the smuggling, especially transportation methods that were rarely, if ever checked when entering a foreign country, was a violation.  And this violation would then make every Avenger a drug smuggler - a real one - and no one, not even Torres could back you up.  

Blinded by this possible reality, you countered with the best argument you had. “He’s ‘Captain America’. Which means he stays within our borders.”

Ernesto paused mid-drink, a grin forming. He stared at you in surprise, “I’m sorry, did you just give me an order?”

You backtracked, breath still steady. Steve tried to mask his worry by also drinking. “No, I’m trying to help you. What about Ramirez?”

“Curiosity killed the cat.”

It was silent for a long while. Steve knew better than to come between the uncomfortable glares you and your father were sharing. Ernesto’s answer was confirmation enough for your proposed theory.

He ventured a glance at Seda, who was already looking at him. Confusion rattled him to the bone, but before he could dissect any possible assumption as to why, your father snapped his fingers. 

Seda moved too quickly. He always followed Ernesto’s orders like they were holy commandments, but he had seriously wanted this. He was the muscle after all. 

Seda picked you up out of your seat with the force of one hand, fingers gripped under your chin and squishing your cheeks painfully. With his other hand, he pushed your back forward and held you down on the table. The impact of your body had shattered the plate beneath your chest. But that pain was minimal compared to the elbow digging in between your shoulder blades. 

Almost as quickly as Seda had pounced, Steve was standing. The sound of every gun on the patio cocking rang in his ears, but god forbid that be louder than the sudden squeal that had left your mouth from the force of your assault.  

“See? I give the orders,” Ernesto said, still sitting casually in his seat. “Now, test me again.”

      “There are worse ways to go.”

Natasha was always so calm during these types of situations. A blank face that disguised the true fright she really felt, a mask in other words. But Steve knew the only reason she did that was for the benefit of those around her, regular civilian or superhero alike. She would always keep such a calm demeanor, voice steady and eyes boring into one’s soul as if to transfer whatever inner peace she could find. 

When he had found out Bucky was alive, unresponsive and an empty shell of a man HYDRA had made him, he crumbled into the panic attack he had long awaited. Being thrust into the 21st century without a lick of his past was one thing. But to barely start getting used to this new world, only to be handed the most crazy plot twist of his life, well, it was enough to destroy whatever progress he thought he made. 

And while he rocked himself through it, massive shoulders poking his jawline uncomfortably as he curled in on himself, Natasha had simply laid a cup of tea in front of him and retreated to the other corner of the room, no words exchanged. Good, because he didn’t want to talk about it. 

“Is everyone on?”

The planes were being loaded at the fastest rate they could, the only remaining Avengers on land being him, Natasha, and Clint. From what he could see.

“I gotta go get Banner. You head on over to Clint.”

And they functioned like that for the next few minutes, grabbing civilians along the way and praying they themselves would make it to one of those planes. The sudden shower of bullets crushed the hope of that, and Steve stared down at Pietro with an immense guilt about not getting there sooner. 

Losing a teammate, even if that teammate was recruited just a day ago, always hits hard. But they were the Avengers, and if any comic book or superhero movie had been right, then no one ever really died! Yeah, fat chance. 

Steve counted as many heads as he could. He saw Natasha off to the side, and Clint had just stumbled on, and Y/N was-

Wait, where were you?

Steve grabbed his shield and hooked it onto his back, running off the plane and back onto the floating land, ignoring Clint’s yells of ‘get the fuck back here, Rogers!’

“Does anyone have eyes on Y/N?”

The responses were no help; Rhodey had circled the city twice over searching for you, and there was no sign. Maybe you were with Wanda, maybe you were on another plane, maybe you were with Thor and he promised to pick you up and protect you once he catapulted himself - 

‘I’m gonna need you to get your ass back on that plane, Capsicle,’ Tony yelled, interrupting himself as he made painful contact with falling debris. 

Steve was on autopilot, scared out of his damn mind. He never wanted this job, he never wanted to continue working for the government, it was just war after war after war. He just wanted to find Bucky, he just wanted to settle down with a fucking cat or something, he just wanted to live the life he missed out on. But he was also hell bent on saving everyone he could. A sick satisfaction of using the serum’s gifts for what he was built for, a science project and weapon of war. He hated it, he wanted to shrivel back down to his ninety-pound self and pay a goddamn penny for a movie screening again. 

But he had a job to do and he was one of the few people on earth who could actually accomplish it. So, no - Steve will not quit when people need him. He’ll just have to bear it some other way; belt in between his teeth as he clenches down. Because Steve would literally destroy himself for any of his teammates until he was nothing but a pile of discarded remains. 

“What the hell are you still doing on land, Captain?”

He whipped his head to the side and found you, holding a frightened looking dog in your arms, smudges of rubble covering your cheeks and bodysuit. “Oh my god.”

You stomped over to him, the dog clutched to your chest and a tiny limp in your step. “Answer me, Rogers!”

Steve only stared, blinking quickly until an invisible boot kicked him back into gear. His voice was high-pitched as he screamed at you. “You went back for the dog?”

Your face contorted, “Of course I went back for the fucking dog!”

A ridiculous thing, an utter masterpiece of work you were, a vice that gripped him by the throat and would always press down tighter until he was gasping for breath. You went back for the damn dog, and he was about to break down crying not knowing where you were. He just lost one teammate - he couldn’t lose another.

“Well, let’s go!”

Your voice seemed to shock him back into Captain America mode, and as the city leveled and the ground started to break apart, he hoisted you up and onto the plane while making the leap himself. 

     At this point, Steve would blindly agree to anything. If it meant pulling you out of this, he’d do it. He found himself negotiating instantly, like any other hostage situation he had dealt with. “I’m sure our planes can handle a few extra pounds.”

Made sense for Steve to agree - wasn’t like it was going to happen anyway. But the mere thought of having him take the fall for this entire mission going sideways, well, it had ignited the stupid part of your brain. You could have blown this whole mission. You could have blown it all because your father had been doing what he does best: taunting you. And you let it happen. 

“I have already sent word to White that your Captain will be working with him now, too. Anything to topple Ramirez from the top three.”

You lifted your head to glare at your father. “Why didn’t I get a say? I’m as influential as you two!” You grit your teeth. “You did this without consulting us first. So, then what was this?”

Seda applied the full force of his weight, his elbow now pinching into the muscle and causing you to see black spots. You tried to restrain your scream, but it escaped. A few birds left their perch, flying away from the high-pitched noise.

Steve saw red. Bursting flames that climbed and licked up to formless heights and blurred his vision to the point he was pre-serumed, standing small and physically weak again. And pre-serum Steve would happily accept the punches he had coming if he dare intervene. But even if this red was bolstering hot and clawing at his flesh, stepping in now would mean chaos. He couldn’t do anything, he was restricted, strapped down by your own rule, and helplessly watching as your face twisted in pain. 

He felt his heart tearing in two, and yet his face remained calm. Calm and collected. 

“See this as a means to inform you.”

If Seda were to push down again, you figured you’d go out fighting. “A coup? Father, you shouldn’t have.”

“Do we have a deal?” 

If he hooked his arm under the left side of the table and threw it at the correct angle, he would blindside your father and throw Seda off balance, allowing you to take him down. But there were men posted to both his sides and behind him, guns already cocked like they had suspected Captain America to react negatively. 

Scott had to be hearing everything, the poor guy, but you had also instructed him to let you be thrown around like a ragdoll, that you were used to it. Knowing Scott, he would honor your word as scripture for the sake of the mission.

Steve couldn’t stand to look at you in pain anymore. A small part of him wanted to yell, ‘Well stop talking and he’ll get the hell off you!’, like it was ultimately your fault, but he swallowed that shallow thought and bargained instead. “I’ll be needing a copy of your word. For insurance purposes.”

If there was one thing Ernesto respected, it was a man with his own personal agenda. “I knew I liked him, Y/N. A man who knows what he wants and how to make sure it lasts.”

You reached over discreetly, finding Steve’s hand to squeeze tightly. He squeezes back.

The next few minutes were a blur, really. You passed it with pinched eyes and a few uncomfortable moans as Steve and your father wrote up a formal agreement. 

Seda removed himself after Steve signed. You tried not to think too much of it; the contract can be considered void. Torres would look into it. Steve will not become truly involved. 

Your father excused himself and Seda after the pen left paper, leaving the both of you alone.

Steve wanted to hold you, to shield you with his own flesh and bone, to remind you he was on your side. That he would always be on your side. 

The men who escorted you were deep in their own conversations, guns still raised but minds momentarily distracted. So he reached for your hand, an involuntary chuckle escaping him as he saw Scott’s miniature self hiking up the arm he had just grabbed. Your grip was loose, like your mind was elsewhere. 

You all entered the car and buckled up without alerting the men of any wrongdoings. Scott waited until you drove past the cameras and the estate grew smaller in his eyes to return to his normal size. 

They were both worried, eyes meeting in the mirror as if to communicate it. You were so silent, so still, simply looking out the window. Their voices were slightly distorted, far away calls for your attention and you were drowning, suffocating and forgetting that when caught in a riptide, you need to swim sideways and not directly to land-

One quick sob was all it took for Steve to check his mirrors and turn the car into the crowd of pine trees, burying the three of you in their depth and providing temporary solace from the outside world. Your throat burned and itched with the need to cry harder, but you stopped yourself. 

This had happened before. You’ve been subdued and taunted before. Hell, worse has happened to you and you always seemed to hold in the tears until you were in the comfort of your own room or in Natasha’s arms. 

But there was no single room for you to run off to and there was no more Natasha-

It took a moment to register that your seatbelt had been unbuckled, Steve had exited the vehicle, and Scott was already tugging you by the underarms and into the backseat. You were then squished between the two men, with Steve manually tilting your head to rest on the expanse of his chest and Scott with his arms wrapped around your waist to mimic a massive bear hug. 

They let you ride out whatever broken sobs your body produced. There were few tears and your breakdown was amateur at best, but you still broke. There was no point in trying to diminish its importance. You were here, and you had both fresh and dry tear streaks, and it was important to feel. 

At least that’s what Steve had been reciting for the past two minutes as he ran his fingers through your hair. 

You sniffed and wiped your cheeks, rolling your eyes at yourself. “I’m sorry, this is really embarrassing.”

Scott leaned back to stare at you in pure disbelief, “You have every right to scream, to cry, to tear this world apart. You have a right to feel.”

You wanted to believe him. God, you wanted to believe him. 

If Scott wasn’t here, perhaps Steve would allow himself to cry with you. His masculinity was intact, thank you very much, but Scott didn’t need to console two people at once. So he swallowed his pain, secured it back into the safe within his heart that was specifically constructed for you, and held you tighter. 

Out of nowhere, Scott patted your thigh multiple times like a child begging for attention. “We need comfort food. We’ve all had a rough day and it’s not even two o’clock yet! Nothing some french fries and burgers can’t fix!”

It had slipped your mind how little you had actually gotten to eat. Just a few sips of coffee and some grapes. Wasn’t your fault there were more important things to focus on. 

“Can we get, like, a massive tray of fries?” you smiled. 

Scott’s eyes lit up. 

Lots of things are so simple. Or, in theory. Boiling water is simple. Doing laundry. Pumping gas. 

But then there are those simple things that are just not so accessible to everyone. Like, it was simple for Bruce to learn and teach theoretical physics. It was simple for Peter to catch a bus with his bare hands. It was simple for Thor to call upon thunder and lightning and for Loki to cause some mischief. 

For Steve, eating his body weight in fries was simple. 

For Scott, opening the ketchup packets without his thumbs sliding was simple. 

For you, stealing Steve’s fries was simple. 

Maybe because he didn’t stop you. 

     It’s crazy how just a few hours with some close friends made every problem in the world seem nonexistent. You were replenished, in a sense, ready to put any embarrassment and self-hatred behind you in preparation for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow. Everything up until now was child’s play - now, there were no restraints. You were instructed to strike on the wedding day as that was the day the shipment was moving, but if anything truly dangerous occurred tomorrow, Fury had given the green light to shoot.

It would have been a blessing to just have one more quiet night in, maybe enjoy some more special alone time with Steve. There was a conversation to be had, feelings to be discussed, an argument to start. There needed to be screaming, and crying, and eye rolling - all needed to happen. 

Yes, that would have been great. 

Steve launched the shield across the room the second Scott pushed open the door, the crack of bone and vibranium sounding off. Scott had already unclicked his gun safety, weapon pointed directly at the intruder - who had collapsed to the floor with a bleeding shin clutched in between his hands. You didn’t even realize your gun was also out and cocked. Instinct - skill you had acquired from Natasha and Rhodey. 

Sometimes you wish you could forget how to hold a gun altogether. 

Ramirez was on the floor, having only released a loud howl when the shield connected. He just panted lowly, eyes squeezed shut. He desperately tried to raise his hands. 

“Please… don’t shoot.”

Steve stepped forward, shield braced and covering both you and Scott. You stayed near the door in case Ramirez had any other friends visiting. 

You turned on your mic and hoped it patched through. “Widow.” 

“How did you get past security? How did you know which hotel we were at?”

Ramirez looked over at you, eyes pleading for help from Steve’s questions or from the physical pain. You really couldn’t tell. 

“Answer the questions, Omar.” You used his first name - that told him you were serious. 

“Someone took their smoke break.” He breathed in uneven cycles. “I followed you the first day you arrived.”

Completely baffled, you looked to Scott for some answer he clearly didn’t have. 

“That’s not possible. Our people swept the area, we had eyes on you and-”

Ramirez interrupted shyly, “You had eyes on me. Not my connections.”

“Your men were followed, too.”

Although he was groaning, he still responded as softly as possible. “Connections, mija. They aren’t all a part of the mob.”

Every guest who checked in and out of the hotel were screened for that week. Every employee was vetted. 

“If you’re wondering who it was, I’ll save you the time and say it was simply a passerby who didn’t even enter the hotel. Just followed, then made a U-turn.”

Scott scoffed and lowered his gun, “If it really was that easy…”

Steve kneeled to be eye-level with Ramirez. “Then that means Ernesto already knows about Scott and Torres.”

As quickly as Steve declared this, Ramirez shook his head. “No! I’m not on Ernesto’s side anymore. Haven’t been for a long time!”

“Prove it.”

Ramirez stared at you, eyes pleading for trust. He didn’t look all that intimidating. Short black hair, wrinkles minimal and clothes well-pressed, slim and dark skin clear of any blemishes - he looked like every guy who you would see at the bank. He remained pleading even after Steve patted him down. 

Still kneeling and leg slightly extended to relieve some of the pain, he started to explain himself. “I know when people are acting.”

“What?”

“When you pressed the gun to her chin,” he motioned his hand between you and Steve, “you held her hand.”

Lowering your gun and dropping your shoulders, you released a deep sigh. “You were behind us.”

He agreed, “I was behind you.” He inspected the room with a small smile, glancing at all three of you in amusement. Once his sight rested on Steve, he tipped his chin up and smirked. “I heard you could pick up Thor’s hammer.”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled, annoyed, and turned to check the hallway. Your mic was muffled, but you swore you could make out the voices of Torres and Sam.

“Any man who can do that is good, right?”

Scott nodded, “According to legend-”

Steve blinked at him, “Scott.”

“That little gesture of care, plus the cell phone videos I saw you in from two years ago-” Ramirez started, but was interrupted. 

Steve squinted, “Saw us where?”

“The phone videos on Youtube.”

You stepped back into the room, stuttering over your words. “What phone videos? Be clearer.”

“You defended that child. The - the spider child,” he pointed at Steve, wincing as he shifted his leg. “And you got into that bar fight, busted someone's head into the floor.”

“No, PR made sure they were deleted. Hill said there was no trace of them-”

“My two youngest daughters were fifteen at the time. They knew about the video the minute it aired. They saved it.”

Scott sighed, shaking his head at the memory of having to bail both you and Sam out of jail. It was a nice turn of the tables, though. “...We didn’t factor in the possibility of teenagers screen recording?”

Ramirez chuckled, “Seems not.”

     It was certainly an eventful night for PR. A complete disaster they had to cover up and twist for the media. There were four Avengers mixed up in this chaos, and since the perpetrators didn’t quite succeed in kicking your asses, PR might just finish the job for them. 

On one side of town, Steve was responding to an urgent call from Happy asking if he was in the vicinity. Peter had been visiting a study group in Brooklyn, careful as ever, but still stumbled upon bullies. Steve lived close and instead of ringing the whole team, Happy put his trust in the person Tony would have also called. 

It was a scene he hoped he would never have to witness again. To see such cruelty months after the final battle, a battle everyone knew the kid played a major part in, it tore Steve apart shred by miserable shred.

Peter was crouched against an alley wall, shielding his face with his arms as five boys around his age pounded away. He appeared to be clutching his phone, the line still connected with Happy, and he was begging them to stop. 

Steve had never run so fast. He dodged a few cars and strollers along the way, mind fogged with desperation and anger. He now knew how Bucky felt when he saved Steve from all those alley fights back in the day.

It didn’t even register in his mind that he had pulled at least two of the boys away and threw them into the opposite wall, or that he had clutched one's throat so tight that Peter’s thumbs were now digging under his clenched palm with the plea of ‘Cap, let him go!’.  

He dropped the boy, no more than seventeen, on the ground and stepped away to inspect Peter. A busted lip, what looked to be two purpling eyes, torn clothing, and bruises along his ribcage that showed through the new holes in his shirt. The five boys all stood and cowered backwards. 

They shouted and name-called, spit on the floor and taunted the two superheroes. It wasn’t until Peter leaned into Steve’s chest and pushed him back that Steve realized one of the boys was recording the whole thing. 

Against his better judgement, he let them go. There wasn't anything beneficial to be done besides file a police report - not that it would do much anyway. 

He took Peter back to his apartment and called Happy himself. He stitched the nasty cut on the kid’s forehead. He fed him some soup and crackers. He gave him some spare clothes that had shrunk in the washer. Peter’s smile was so broken as he interrupted the silence while Steve cleaned away the dry blood, a simple explanation of ‘I obviously couldn’t fight back’. 

And fuck, Steve knew the kid was right. 

On the other side of town, the night had started pretty nicely. Two beers in and your conversation with Sam was littered with constant laughter and childhood stories. The bar wasn’t that crowded for a Thursday night, just a few regulars and a small office party.

Your conversation was interrupted by two men who had clearly been holding their tongue. First they harassed you for being Avengers and destroying the city every other week - which granted, was a pretty reasonable argument. You let that one slide. But then they hassled you on who you employed: an ex-con who was clearly only abusing his influence on Hank Pym, a mental woman who took an entire town hostage because she was obviously evil at heart and a witch (‘fuck her children, what about mine?!’), and a teenager who had murdered a true superhero who was only trying to warn and rid the world of him. 

You and Sam remained seated, jaws clenched and hands wrapped tightly around your drinks. If you ignored them long enough, they would go away. The bartender will surely throw them out, they were becoming too rowdy. You were better than them and there was absolutely no need to freak out over words. They were just words. 

“I say we head on over to Queens and pay that sweet Aunt of his a visit!”

Sam let out a quick and prepared sigh, “Shit.”

He threw the first punch, launching himself at the biggest of the two men and hitting the ground. You leaped over the bar counter and tackled the second guy before he could join Sam’s fight. He was clearly caught off guard, arms fumbling wildly as he tried and failed to keep his balance. But your sudden momentum caused his decline, and you were hammering your fist down onto his face like your life depended on it. 

Sam quickly took his gun from his pocket and threw it across the room. He couldn’t risk either of the guys getting a hold of it. He rolled onto all fours before sweeping his leg to trip the guy as he attempted to stand. He shuffled and grabbed one of his arms, legs wrapping themselves over the dude’s shoulders and squeezing his neck. If there was one thing Natasha had taught her friends, it was how to subdue a man with just the thighs. 

The brawl lasted maybe a good two minutes before other customers stepped in and separated you. Out of anger, you kept kicking and struggling. It wasn’t until the doors burst open and police drew their batons that you realized you royally fucked up. Everything was eerily silent and out of pure personality, you scooted away from the remnants of the fight as discreetly (but most obviously) as you could. 

You were booked, charges later dropped. Sam’s mugshot showcased a thin smile, like he knew the record would be expunged within the hour. Yours displayed a cocked eyebrow and slightly pursed lips. 

Yeah, PR didn’t have a nice night.

     “What about the videos, Omar?”

Ramirez gave you a sincere look, “No one on Ernesto’s team risks their reputation like that. You have his rage, but he doesn’t have your morality. Save the next question, I know what you two were fighting about.”

Even if you did get caught and the videos went viral, there was no way the world could know your connections. “The world doesn’t know about my family connections. Fury made sure to never input it into Shield’s database.”

“Imagine how terrified Ernesto was when the Russian spilled all their secrets.”

“Natasha,” Steve asserted. “Her name was Natasha.”

Ramirez bowed his head, “Natasha. I’m sorry.” He turned back to you. “You were barely starting out when that happened, no?” 

You were getting impatient with no backup. “Your point?”

“You’re working against him, aren’t you? You’ve always been working against him.”

You raised your gun again and stalked toward him. “Choose your next words carefully.”

Again, he raised his hands in defense. “I’m not with him. He doesn’t know I’m here, neither does White.” 

There was a long pause as you all pondered over his admission. Even though you vouched for him just yesterday, there was still so much to consider before jumping to his conclusion. “I think they’re plotting to kill me.”

Steve chuckled under his breath, “We know.”

Ramirez reacted like he was just slapped in the face. “You know?”

After a long train of thought, Scott interjected with his own idea. “That plot of land you bought - it’s not for drugs, is it?”

“I mean, half of it is for drugs.”

“Omar,” you demanded.

“Yes, yes. But the other half is entirely unrelated.”

Scott motioned for him to continue, “Enlighten us.”

And the small, proud smile on his face gave you the feeling he really was telling the truth. “It’s a refugee camp.”

Steve stuttered, “Drugs and refugees?”

Ramirez pushed himself toward the nearby chair and hoisted himself up. “I know it sounds crazy. Trust me, I know.” He let out a pained hiss. “But the Mexican government has already approved it. Well, if you can call it a government. They’re one of the few who still haven’t recovered from everyone coming back.”

“So, what? Are you making the refugees work for you?” you questioned. 

Ramirez widened his eyes. “What? No, no! The drugs are for income. For food, shelter, medicine, todo lo demas!”

Steve huffed, “Let me guess. The drugs aren’t real and anyone who finds out the truth will turn a blind eye.”

“Exactly.”

It was obvious why Ramirez wanted someone to know about the possible scheme. But why that someone happened to be you and your team, you honestly didn’t know. By logic, if you had been playing your father all this time, wasn’t it reasonable to assume you had or continue to play Ramirez?

“And you’re telling us for what? To save your ass?”

Ramirez countered with a question of his own, “Why are you here? After what Seda did to you, I can’t believe it.”

“Stop, just stop.” You were about done with all of this.

“You’re here to arrest us, right? I’m assuming I’m included.”

You raised your head, trying desperately to depict true regret in the stare you gave him. “I’m sorry.”

He sadly shook his head, “Don’t apologize. I know why you’re doing it.” He turned to Steve. “I’m just asking for a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“Protect my daughter.”

Your jaw dropped lightly as you heard his selfless favor. “Your daughter?”

“Her name is on the deed. I think Ernesto wants my land.”

“And once you’re taken out, she’s the only thing standing in his way.”

“Either he marries her-” he took a long pause to breath in deep. “Or he kills her.”

“Take her off of it?” you stated with confidence since it was more of a suggestion than a question. 

A deep frown etched into his face. “She’s somewhere in Asia right now. I need her signature. And all the forgers haven’t called me back.” He sighed and reached down to grip his bloody shin again. “She won’t make it back in time for the legal route.”

Steve nodded in understanding. He surprised you by setting the shield down on the couch. “Then we won’t let anything happen.”

“Promise me.”

You started to express remorse about the situation but were immediately cut off. “We aren’t in the business of making pro-”

“We promise.” 

You turned your head sharply, eyes round and mouth dropped. It was all you could muster up to show Steve your shock. He ignored your judgement, even if he did just break one of the top ten rules on the ‘what not to do as a superhero!’ list. 

Finally, uniformed officers scrambled into the room with their weapons drawn. Torres led them, hair all disheveled and cheeks pink.  “I’m so sorry. The connection was hacked and the cameras were delayed-”

You moved to stand near him, “It’s okay. Hey, we’re okay.”

Torres kept eye contact with you for only a second more, not really accepting that his tardiness should be casually swept under the rug like that. He immediately signaled for his officers to arrest Ramirez. “Get on your knees.”

Ramirez raised his hands and tried to stand. “With all due respect, your Captain might’ve broken my leg. I can’t kneel again or else I might cry.”

You tugged at Torres’s jacket and whispered. “Joaquin, just take him in for questioning. But you gotta release him-”

His eyes rounded. “What? We finally got him!”

“You have to release him. He has to be at the wedding.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered after a long pause and internal struggle. 

Just like that, Torres and his officers hoisted Ramirez up and dragged him from the room. For him to risk coming here, with no backup (according to security cameras and his word) and trusting his gut that you weren’t dirty - he must have been telling some truth. Steve followed Torres out, leaving you and Scott to report back to Sam and Bucky. 

Steve had only made it down the hallway when Ramirez stumbled into the wall. “Stop here, please.”

Steve was immediately defensive. “I’m not going to apologize for protecting my team.”

Ramirez didn’t seem to mind that he would be having trouble walking at the wedding. Granted he didn’t play a major role in the actual wedding, but he still needed to be present during the shipment transport. He inwardly thanked the fact the rehearsal dinner was only for close family. “Captain. Joaquin, is it? I know you heard everything I said. Mexico is your homeland. Your people.”

Torres allowed Ramirez to lean on the wall without his help. “I know my roots.”

“I wasn’t lying about the refugee camp. And I know you’ve done a lot in that area of work.”

“How do you-” Torres stammered, eyes flashing to Steve with worry. 

“Mijo, I have connections all over the world. And because I’m not an evil son of a bitch, I tend to keep them.”

Torres looked from Steve to Ramirez debating on whether to entertain this conversation any longer. But if training taught him anything, it was that if the suspect is talking, keep him talking. He motioned for his officers to leave them. 

“What are you getting at?”

“Ernesto knows about the camp. He knows the size of land. He knows my connections. He will kill me for it.” 

Steve mumbled, “Ernesto doesn’t seem like he’s much into the business of helping the less fortunate.”

Ramirez takes a grand leap here, Steve thinks, because the next words out of his mouth completely blindside him. It seemed like even saying them also left a bad taste in the criminal’s mouth. “You have to swear not to tell Y/N.”

Stepping forward and looking down at the injured man, Steve had to restrain himself from yelling his response. “Excuse me?”

“We can’t let her know right now.”

Torres held the same expression as Steve.

“You expect me to keep a secret from my partner? About her own father?”

“For the sake of your mission - yes, I know you’re planning on intercepting the shipment during the wedding - you cannot tell her until the day of the wedding.”

Steve hates that his reasoning is valid.

“Can’t tell her what?”

“The shipment isn’t a ‘what’. It’s ‘who’.”

“A hostage?” Torres almost yells because this changes the landscape, the game, the whole entire mission. 

“Multiple.”

“No, he’s not - he can’t be,” Torres is stuttering now, phone in his hand and about a dozen numbers he needs to call. 

Still, Ramirez seems like he’s telling the truth. Or at least, that’s what his body language tells Steve. “I would not lie about this.” 

Ramirez takes a deep breath before hanging his head in what looks like shame. “Ernesto is planning to kill me, marry or kill my daughter, and use the land to traffic humans.”

It immediately clicks with Steve. The reason why Ramirez was being edged out, the reason why your father wouldn’t tell you where the shipment was currently located, the reason business was going to boom in Europe. 

Ramirez continued, “Drugs are big business, Captain. But the sale of human lives…”

“The shipment - where is it?” Steve asked. 

“He wouldn’t tell me or White. That’s why we have to wait until the wedding. We can’t risk-”

Torres ended a phone call Steve hadn’t even known the kid had been on. He hooked Ramirez’s arm around his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s get out of here.”

Ramirez accepted the help, limping a few steps down the hallway before turning back to Steve. “Trust me when I say I know your partner, Captain. She can’t know right now. She’d kill him.”

But wasn’t that what you all wanted?

Flustered and quite overwhelmed with everything that had happened this morning and afternoon, Steve took a few minutes in the quiet hallway. 

There wasn’t much for him to do. Except set up security - because if there was one thing Steve was definitely going to do, it was see this whole mission through. 

The rest of the team back home would be briefed in the next few hours. And since Torres would be giving the briefing, everyone would know that this was a major secret kept from you. It would eat away at everyone, especially Steve. 

Digging into his pockets for his burner phone, he dialed the one number he thought you would be satisfied by.

“Maribel, hey. It’s Steve Rogers. I need a favor.”

     It wasn’t hard for Steve to conceal secrets. He was trained in code, intercepted Nazi messages during the war, and negotiated the safe return of hostages more times than he could count. 

Not telling you this would perhaps bite him in the ass in the long run, and there would most certainly be a dreaded argument in his future. But when he truly thought about it and what it could possibly mean if you seriously went out of your way to end this mission quicker than it was planned - the best possible choice was to keep this secret. 

Either he could tell you right now and have you do with it what you will, or he could tell you on the day of the wedding when all bets are off and the mission could be a success. 

That’s all the both of you have ever wanted, this he knows for sure. Getting rid of these people, getting rid of your father with help from the Avengers and their close connections, was worth more than a petty argument with the top crime boss who would never change his ways. It was best to stick it out, and tell you when the time was right. 

Because he will tell you. He promises himself that. 

After discussing the day and the rest of the plan over video chat, it was concluded that Sam and Bucky would be flying out a day earlier than planned. Having Ramirez simply waltz into the hotel when someone was having their regular smoke break was much too insane to ignore, and the more backup you guys had tomorrow and the next, the better. 

Scott took his leave after triple-checking if you were alright. He even offered to have a couple drinks with you down at the bar. You declined, excuse being that you would drink tomorrow at the dinner. 

Shrugging off your jacket and shirt was more painful than you hoped. It felt like someone had punched you with all their strength smack-dab in the middle of your fucking spine. Which, come to think of it, kind of happened? The pressure Seda applied was meant to subdue in the most awkward and painful of ways. He was trained to do so. Still, removing your bra should have been a simple task and instead it hurt like a bitch. 

The warm water from the shower relaxed the strained muscles as best as it could, and you only suffered minimally while applying your shampoo and conditioner. It was the hair drying and brushing of the hair that would prove difficult. 

Giving up halfway, you opened the bathroom door and peeked through, hoping Steve decided to stay in for the night. He was simply lounging on his bed, back pressed against the headboard as he watched Finding Nemo on Disney Junior. He was already dressed for bed.

“Steve?”

He glanced at you, worry etched on his face as he took in your embarrassed expression. “What is it?”

You opened the door fully, pajamas already on and a wet towel in your hand. You blushed madly. “Could you help me dry my hair? It hurts when I raise my arms.”

Steve was out of bed the second he heard the word ‘help’. “How bad is it? We can always fly in Dr. Cho to get you checked out-”

You giggled, passing him the hotel hair dryer. “I’ll just pop some advil every few hours and annoy you for a massage before tomorrow’s dinner. That sound good?”

He didn’t want to agree. If you were actually in severe pain, it wasn’t helpful to you or the mission. He cursed himself for not relieving you of Seda’s elbow sooner. 

“If you say so.”

You turned back to the mirror and gripped the counter, fingers tapping away as Steve grabbed the essentials. He used one of the hand towels to squeeze the excess water from your tips and separated your hair into sections. He blow dried your hair for a couple of minutes before deciding to alternate with the brush. 

The brush was shaped like a cylinder, the bristles much softer than that of other brushes he’d seen. 

“Just use it like any other brush. But once you get close to the tips, start twisting it. It’ll make my hair wavy.”

Steve nodded, doing exactly as you instructed. It was fifteen minutes of pure laughs and jokes as Steve styled your hair like some seventies movie star. He had always enjoyed the culture from that time and even if the show wasn’t actually set in the seventies, it was one of his guilty pleasures to watch That 70’s Show with Wanda. 

     Once finished, the two of you brushed your teeth and finished the rest of the movie in comfortable silence. He didn’t want to become distracted by something new so he shut off the television and turned to you, all snuggled up and scrolling through your phone. 

It was now or never. 

His voice was tinier than he hoped it would be, “Do you regret what we did?”

You were lying on your side facing Steve, phone plugged into the charger. You looked up, voice as equally tiny. “Oh, we’re talking about it now?”

Steve smiled, “You haven’t exactly brought it up either.”

“Well,” your chuckle came out as a huff. You put your phone back onto the bedside table.  “No, I don’t regret it.”

“You don’t?”

“Did you want me to?” you sounded surprised, but Steve knew you well enough to know you were only teasing. 

“No, I just-”

“Do you?”

“You gotta stop interrupting me,” Steve sighed. You raised your eyebrows. “I don’t regret it.”

You bit your lip and sat up straighter so your back was also leaning against the headboard. “So we both don’t regret it.”

“God, you annoy the hell out of me, you know that?” Steve admitted, kicking off his sheets and presenting what looked to be both a sad and honest grin. 

You laughed, kicking the sheets off as well and dangling your legs over the side. “Do I! You only remind me every damn day!”

Steve softened his voice once more, grin still present. “And yet, you never take a hint.”

You craved this playfulness and if you could continue like this for the rest of the night, for the rest of your lives, you would. But you remembered that there was a real conversation to be had. About the last seven years, the last two years, the last couple of days. Whether that conversation remained civil or evolved into an argument, it had to happen. 

“I guess we both act like everything is past us when it clearly isn’t. What should we do?”

Steve hesitated, “Do you want to fight?”

You shrugged, “I think we need to. I don’t plan on not speaking to you for months after if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

He huffed an involuntary laugh, body leaning forward slightly, “I hope not.”

You shared small smiles from your sides of the room, the air growing thicker but not uncomfortable enough to leave the room altogether. 

Steve decided to speak first. “I was stupid. And I made the wrong fucking choice. I was the biggest goddamn idiot on the planet to do that to a friend.” 

You chewed on your bottom lip, “Yeah. All of that’s true. But you still haven’t told me why you did it. You just gave me a half-assed apology because Sam forced you to, and you wonder why we never had our nightly girl talks again.”

“When I apologized, I hardly meant it.”

You nodded sarcastically, “Good start, Steve.”

“No, I-” he laughed, getting up to sit beside you. “I realized that I was truly, actually sorry… when you gave me your blood.”

You cringed, looking away from him and at the random monitors. “It sounds horribly cryptic when you say it like that.”

He smiled big, “It wasn’t even a mission. And if I recall correctly, you told me you would only help me again if we were on a mission.”

“Oh.”

He scooted closer to take your hand in his. “No, not ‘oh’. I was in and out of it but I can clearly make out when I’m getting a blood transfusion.”

“You weren’t gonna die-” you rolled your eyes, absentmindedly drawing circles on Steve’s knuckles. 

“Recovery would have been a hell of a lot harder.”

“I wasn’t the only volunteer-”

“You were the first.”

“So you’re interrupting me, now?”

Steve's smile never faltered. He leaned in and squinted playfully. “How does it feel?”

Pursing your lips, you surrendered. “Go on.”

“You won’t believe me when I say that I truly don’t know why I quit on you. I was just tired.”

“Tired of me?”

“God, no,” he responded quickly. “Tired of myself.”

“Steve…”

He stood up again. Running a hand through his hair, he took tiny steps back and forth. “We brought everyone back and they didn’t know they had been gone for years. I had to tell -” 

He swallowed hard, holding back tears. “I had to tell everyone Nat sacrificed her own soul for theirs.”

“Steve, we could have done it together. I was by your side,” you stood up as well, reaching out to grip his forearm. 

“And then Nick told me about your father. And how he was just picking up where he left off. Like Nat’s sacrifice meant nothing. Like it still means nothing.”

You sighed, a disappointed pout on your face. “So you took it out on me?”

His shoulders fell in defeat as he gently slapped his arms down over his hips. “I have no other excuse.” 

He didn’t try to sugarcoat it. It was the truth. No matter who asked the question, no matter how much he thought about it, the answer truly was that Steve had no excuse. You were the one thing connected to the evil of the past that he so desperately wanted to leave behind. “And then the world was just… we didn’t fix it.”

“How can you say that?”

He explained further, “People moved on. Five years was a long time and we just mucked it all up again.”

“Do you feel like Nat’s sacrifice wasn’t worth it?”

“She died for us. And the world was so chaotic the first few weeks. There were no breaks, there was nothing we could do but… watch.”

You could see where he was coming from. “Pepper has donated so much money. Created foundations. Bruce is locked in his lab all day trying to help slow down the sudden CO2 emissions. Bucky joined the Avengers for a fresh start. And Wanda-”

Steve pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. “Oh, god, Wanda.”

“Steve,” you stepped in front of him and tried pulling his hands away. He let you guide his arms back to his sides. “You can’t just blame yourself for something we all did.”

A tiny puff of air left his lips before he forced a smile. “Can’t I?”

“You tell this to your therapist, right?” you teased, happy to see him break slightly as he rolled his eyes. “You blame yourself, but I’m saying you don’t have to.”

He traced his index finger down from your shoulder to your wrist. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

And you believed him. The world could explode and erase you from existence and you would still believe him. 

“I feel like saying ‘sorry’ doesn’t cut it.”

“I’ll work with whatever you can give me.”

And God, Steve thinks about how beautiful you look in the muted light of his bedside lamp, hair still a little frizzy from the hair dryer and the most radiant smile. So… soft. Again, the only sound besides your easy breathing and slight whistle was that lamp, the most annoying, fuzzy sound. Everything just felt so hazy, so tranquil, so… and yes, he’ll use the word again: soft. He could stay in that moment forever, where you were his and he was yours. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

Steve shakes his head, wonder drowning out all other senses as he focuses on you. He steps closer, enveloping you in a tight hug, mindful of your bruised back. Before he could overthink this moment, to ruin it with the side of himself he was trying to lose, he leaned in to capture your lips in a most chaste kiss. 

It had been a long time since Steve had kissed anyone. The kiss you shared yesterday was the catalyst, but this was a promise. His last kiss was before the snap while he was on the run and trying to avoid responsibility. But it wasn’t like someone before wanted to bask in the warmth of Steve Rogers - no - there was actual emotion to this kiss. 

An ache swelled in the middle of your chest, hammering surely and true. Your mouth falls open the same time Steve inches his hand up your neck, allowing for the kiss to deepen and last. 

His heart was breaking and repairing itself all at once. Breaking for the time he had lost, repairing for the time he had gained. He needed you, wanted you, lost himself in your touch. That same ache in your chest grew in his, pulsating and heavy. His fingers crept into your hair, curling themselves in the loose strands.

He swears you were born for this - to be willing and wanting and breathtakingly good at kissing. He’s so desperate to feel more of you, to taste more than he thinks he deserves, and he almost whines when your fingers also start to tangle in the hair near his neck. 

“Steve, are you sure we should be doing this?” Your voice prompted him to kiss deeper, apply more pressure in the fear that you would change your mind - change your mind about him. 

Almost immediately, red flags propped up and he had to force himself away. He didn’t know your dating history, he didn’t know if you ever emotionally recovered from your assault, he didn’t know. He cursed inwardly for last night, keeping a respectable distance as he checked. 

“I won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I promise you that.”

His voice was thick like honey, smooth and true in the honest words he was saying. 

You had been hesitant for a long while after what had happened to you. You couldn’t stand the simple touch of anyone besides Natasha. But she helped you through it, she shared her own experiences from the early Red Room days, and she had never officially recognized your recovery - she didn’t have to as long as you knew in your mind and body that you had. 

‘The dreadful experience will be a part of you, but it will not ever control you.’ Her words were like prayer. 

But Steve’s touch was natural and wanted. You never shied away from him, not ten years ago and certainly not now. He would never hurt you, you knew this, and he was double-checking to confirm it. 

“I only want you.”

His face resembled a literal question mark, like he didn’t quite accept your admission. Like it was hard to believe you wanted to be with him after everything he put you through. “Do you want me?”  

“Yes. Honest to God, I’m just going with what feels right.”

“That’s just a nicer way of saying you’re thinking with your dick.”

Steve couldn’t contain the burst of laughter that left his lips and hit yours. He pulled back and smiled, eyes crinkling at the sides. “I promise you it’s not that.”

You cupped his face and drew tiny circles on his flushed cheeks. “Hm, so you don’t know what you’re doin’? Thought you always had a plan.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “And apparently I’m always brave.”

“And righteous.”

“Downright patriotic.”

You grinned up at him, your toes sore from how long you had been bending them to hoist you up. “So, your plan?”

Steve kissed you once, twice, three times. “I don’t have one.”

“Pretty brave of you to admit that.”

Steve’s smile dropped slightly to showcase a more serious emotion. Still, his eyes held the most genuine quality. “I just want to be yours.”

You pressed up against him, tiptoes straining and fists clutching his shirt. The kiss was desperate now, as were the both of you. You gasped in between each long peck. “All this time? Why didn’t we say something?”

Embracing you once more, Steve led the two of you to the foot of his bed and fell forward. He landed on top of you, weight nowhere near actually crushing you. His legs were slightly parted, his knees touching the lateral sides of yours. Accepting that the both of you had played a role and delayed this portion of your relationship - Steve was a coward, he knew this, but hearing you say that you also realized your mistakes made him feel weirdly glad. Like he wasn’t alone in this.

“Tell me if you need to stop,” Steve breathed in your neck, kissing the depths of your collarbones and the points of your shoulders. 

“Never,” you whispered, gasping a moment later as he sucked particularly hard. You reached below and tugged the end of his shirt upward. He took it off quickly and before resuming his conquest on your neck, he tugged yours off as well. 

It functioned like this for another ten minutes, strong kisses and gasps and whines, before you were both down to your underwear and simply petting each other higher up on the bed. 

Steve pulled away abruptly, a blush spreading along his neck and down his chest as he thought about the best way to phrase his next sentence. “I didn’t really pack any condoms.”

You actually snorted, pushing away loose strands of your hair as you looked up from beneath him. “Woah, how far did you think you were going to get here, Rogers?”

He was used to the sarcasm, but oh my god did it do something feral to him while in bed with you.  He suddenly flipped you over, holding your hips above his as you settled yourself. It was like a case of whiplash, and before you knew it, you were placed on top of him to grind down and do all the work yourself. 

“Seriously?” His voice was light but raspy, both a sweet question and a warning. 

You grind your hips down on him, feeling the way his hard cock rubbed against your clothed core. Last night was different - you could feel the heat of him, the initial size not lost on you whatsoever. But here you were actually seeing the thick outline in all its glory, a small wet patch forming on his briefs near his twitching tip. “Years of sleeping in my bed only to want to fuck me now?”

He rolled his hips up, his palms beginning a slow and steady pace smoothing alongside your stomach. You relaxed right away, even though it felt like your insides were going to turn upside down, and you rested your hands over his to help guide him. 

“You gonna let me?”

 And fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest fucking thing in the whole world. His palms continued their tracks, reaching up to cup your breasts through your sports bra.  You got the message, giggling as you lifted your arms up. He lifted it up and over your head, throwing it to the other side of the room. Steve immediately attacked, lifting himself and readjusting your hips as well. He sucked your left nipple like a goddamn professional, swirling his tongue around the tight nub and using his teeth only briefly, delighted in the sharp hitch in your breath as he did so. He moved on to the other one, repeating the same process and grinding your hips down on him to match. He trailed quick pecks along your chest and up your neck, his hand finding its way back to your hair. Just below your occipital, so very sensitive, and he tugged your head back at an awkward angle. He kissed his way up, stretching your neck out, and you adjusted to the burn as quickly as the pleasure from it came. 

“Fuck,” you breathed out, mind scrambled but still coherent enough to remember you were on birth control and clean. “I have the shot.”

This had Steve reeling, balance now off as he flipped you once more, hips coming down to meet yours as you thrust upward looking for some relief. The thought of spilling into you with no barrier had to be one of the kinks he didn’t know he had. 

“Safe word?”

You rolled your eyes and shoved his shoulder playfully, “Really, Steve?”

“Safe. Word.”

It wasn’t like you were about to tie each other down for your first time together, but you knew what was flying through his mind. He needed to know you felt safe during whatever the two of you did tonight, make sure you felt calm and at ease and relaxed. Steve would rather die than hurt you physically. 

“Widow.” You paused, smirking up at him as he accepted your decree. “Great, now I’m thinking about Natasha and that time she entered the compound in just that little, red bikini-”

Steve thumbed your bottom lip, then carefully shoved it into your mouth and placed it over your lax tongue to get you to stop talking. Your jaw instantly relaxed and you waited a few moments before locking eyes and enclosing his thumb in your lips. You sucked and swirled your tongue around it, pushing slightly so it rested on your puckered lips. Steve rolled his hips down again, his heat meeting yours in a mash of uncoordinated thrusts. You spread your legs to allow him more room. He had to remove his thumb in fear he would come right then and there.

He inched down lower, hands reaching down to cup your ass and lift you up slightly. He kissed all along your thighs, up to your hip bones, expertly avoiding the one area he knew you wanted him. His beard scratched and poked on your delicate skin, tickling you as he moved closer to your center. This would most certainly hurt in the morning, but nothing a little lotion and vaseline couldn’t fix. You mewled embarrassingly loud, a long drawn out sound that caused Steve to involuntarily rut against the mattress. It had been so long since he had been with someone. But this someone was you. He honestly didn’t know if he could hold out for as long as he wanted. He slowly peeled off your underwear. 

“Where do you want me?”

You lifted your head from the pillow to look down at him, eyebrows furrowed and cheeks incredibly red. “Games, Rogers?”

Steve growled and hoisted your open legs on his shoulders, pulling you closer so that you could feel his stuttering breath. “I’m the one playing?”

His question didn’t quite land considering his sudden manhandling had your eyes rolling to the back of your head and momentarily blinding you. After such a harsh day, the roughness of this particular situation shouldn’t have been so well received by your body. But it was consensual, it was with someone you trusted, and you were also in control. Just knowing that made you crave it. 

“If you don’t get your mouth on me-” you started, trying desperately to move your hips closer to his mouth. And god, did he want to dip lower and suck your glistening heat under his waiting mouth. You were positively dripping, all shiny and welcoming. He hadn’t ordered dessert with dinner, and hey, this would do nicely. 

But your quick quips ignited the Steve that would pick you last during training line-ups. He would leave you for the end, without a team, foot tapping rapidly on the floor as you glared at him with an amused smile. Then he would act like you were the last choice he just had to pick, which you were, and you’d lose the first match on purpose to ruin his scoreboard. It always worked like this, he knew, but did he ever pick you first the next time? No, your bothered attitude excited him too much.

Now, with an impatient attitude bolstering underneath his body, he found himself raising his hand a few inches up in the air. “Stop sassin’!”

The slap echoed after it connected against your bottom, the angle at which it impacted clumsy and inelegant. He smacked the side, surprised by the sharp scream you exhaled. As quickly as he acted, he pulled back. “Oh my god, I should have asked first. I’m so sorry.”

You opened your eyes, the soft light illuminating the room still too bright. You shook away the white spots from your vision. You seriously didn’t know if that was an orgasm or simply a tidal wave of intense pleasure. Still, you were sort of out of it as Steve’s voice tried to draw you back in. 

You looked down at him, “Do that again.”

Steve blinked quickly, unknowing if he truly registered your words correctly. “Are you sure?”

“I didn’t think I’d enjoy that. But oh my god, do that again.”

Steve hesitated and to ease into it better, he decided to not keep you waiting any longer and attached his eager lips to your gleaming ones down below. You fluttered your eyes shut, surprised by how quickly he found your sweetest spot, and you rutted against him harder as the minutes flew by. He swirled his tongue in tight O’s and figure eights, teeth barely scratching but when they did, sent you flying upwards. But he just gripped onto your thighs and readjusted you on his shoulders, fingers digging in almost painfully. His beard burned the inside of your thighs, rubbing deliciously and uncomfortably. He shifted his soft and wriggling tongue to that special spot on the inside of your left lip, his fierce grip not allowing you to shift away as he ate. The hands that were clutching the bedsheets now flew onto his scalp, gripping his hair tightly and you pushed him in deeper. Steve groaned from the pleasant sting, cock straining in his briefs as he rutted into the air. 

The pressure was too much and you wanted him off of you and on you at the same time. Moaning so loud it was deafening, you didn’t notice he lost his grip on one of your legs to connect his palm back to the side of your ass. 

“God!” you yelled blissfully, one hand leaving his head to slam back into the headboard. He repeated the action, his own moans vibrating on you and sending you to a different plane of existence. Each slap grew in strength and he alternated sides, his mouth never leaving your sweet center.

He was sweating now, dying to touch himself and get you off at the same time. He circled his hips mid-air, the friction against his briefs not enough and all too much. 

“Fuck, I can’t believe you like that,” he whined. 

You chuckled through desperate moans, “Are you judging me right now?”

“I’m judging how fucking wrecked it makes me,” he admitted, mouth now working overtime and ready to lead you off the edge. He worked faster, tongue now assaulting your clit eagerly. Steve can feel both his pulse and your pulse gaining momentum, thrumming away inside his skull and vibrating deliciously as he brought you closer. He suspects you’ve got a few good seconds before you’re coming on his mouth. 

“Steve… Steve!” you begged, hips bucking awkwardly against him. He wrapped both arms around your thighs again and headed for the finish line, humming against you and basking in the glory of your end. You broke around him, the scream you let out causing the heat in his stomach to tighten and spread to his own thighs. You wiggled fiercely, attempting to get away from him as he continued to lick you. He made sure to leave some of your release behind, even if his lips and chin told another story. 

He set your legs back down on the bed with him still in the middle. He could still see how shiny you were in between. Selfishly, Steve maneuvered to get himself out of his briefs and settle back in the middle. There, he took pleasure in simply viewing himself, strained and practically purple with desire, at level with your wet mound. 

“You’ve been practicing, huh?” He snapped from his dirty thoughts and looked back at your blissed out face. You also had a soft luster on your skin.

Steve chuckled, hands gripping the sides of your hips to massage them. “Not recently. But the USO girls were just as tuned up as I was at the time.”

You grinned wide, “Now that’s something I didn’t know about you. You fuck ‘em?”

Steve reached down to grip the base of his cock, the pressure building and he seriously didn’t want to blow his load before you both took the next step. He willed himself to calm down before he responded. “Yeah, but please don’t go tellin’ everyone.”

“Who knew you were such a slut?” you teased, voice dripping with such intensity that Steve shut his eyes to drown in it. You wrapped your leg around his waist and tipped him over, coming back to rest your hips atop his. Hands sprawled along the expanse of his chest and unclothed heat now rubbing along his bare cock. Steve tipped his head back, a deep groan rising from the middle of his chest as your drenched lips parted to swallow the thickness of his cock. You rocked back and forth, your sensitive clit nudging his tip every so often. You had already come once, and you reveled in the simple fact that this must be torture for Steve. “Tell me, Steve. How do you want me?”

Steve short-circuited. 

“Doll, I want you in every imaginable way,” he whined, bucking his hips. He grinned when his short movement caused you to whimper. “I want you on top of me, doing nothing, as I fuck up into you.”

You let out a ragged gasp, hips moving faster. You were practically dripping along his cock. Steve continued, “I want you underneath me as I fold you in half and your ankles are dangling in the air. I want you on your stomach as I use your hips how I want.”

Your eyes were wide, the blush on your cheeks extending all the way down to your naked chest. This was so surreal. Just last week you switched his special sugar for salt and watched him literally sob and almost throw up as he sipped his morning tea. 

“But I also want you to hold me down and fuck me however you see fit. I want you to steal my control, I don’t want it. I just need you.”

His voice was wrecked, choked whimpers caught in between his syllables and eyelids fluttering slowly. You shot down to kiss him hard, hands tangling in his hair and hips grinding long and slow. You were rewarded with a sticky bead of pre-come from his sensitive slit. You were already milking him and he hadn’t even entered you yet. 

“Y/N, are you sure?”

You detached your lips, forehead now resting on his and your breaths intermingled. “I’m sure.”

He didn’t know what willed him to flip you over so fast, whether it was the serum or his desperate need to sink into your tight warmth, but he succeeded. His gaze was intense, like he was trying to find any hesitation he so didn’t want to find. But there was none. Your eyes were bright and happy, and he had only seen this look a few times. He felt incredibly lucky to experience it now. 

“I’m sorry I lost you,” he spoke without thinking. Because he truly was sorry, he was so fucking sorry. But to have you here, so vulnerable and allowing him to see you so defenseless, he felt like he didn’t deserve it without telling you once again that he was sorry. 

You gave him a toothy smile, cheeks rising and causing the skin by your eyes to crinkle. You guided his head down to plant his lips on yours again. It was innocent enough for the circumstances, just a gentle press with slow movements. 

You pushed him back to meet his eyes. “I probably should have held on tighter.”

He knows the color of your eyes, but never in this lighting. He knows the sweat of your body, but not when it mixes with his. He knows your talkative mouth, but never pink and swollen in a pleasant pout. He knows your voice, but never when it calls out his name while you writhe underneath him. He knows you now, all of you, open and vulnerable for him.

Steve presses one more deep kiss on your lips before positioning himself better in between your legs. He lifts you up slightly, bending your knees and spreading your legs so your feet are planted on the mattress. Then he slowly guides himself into your tight heat. 

It’s incredibly overwhelming for both parties. He hadn’t exactly prepared you with his fingers and his size is a little much. He was thicker than anything you were used to, and the sting left you wanting him to move already and pause to settle for maybe an hour. It’s like he read your mind because he moved even slower as he pushed deeper, head dropping to the curve of your neck, gasping against your skin. You tried to encourage him, rolling your hips and hooking one leg around him. The sting still overpowered any sense of pleasure, so you rolled your hips against his to try and better adjust for yourself. 

He grasped onto the side of your hip tightly, “Doll, if you don’t stop doing that I’m not gonna last.” 

You blushed, slightly embarrassed, “I was just trying to get comfortable quicker.”

Steve groaned and planted a few sweet kisses to your heated neck. “Do you want to stop? I can work you out one more time before we do this?”

You turned your head slightly to kiss across his cheek. “I want you now. I just need to adjust first.”

Steve nodded quickly, pressing in more and pausing to let you roll your hips. He bit his lip harshly, a cracked gasp escaping every so often as you worked yourself on him. Once he was fully seated inside of you, he closed his eyes and just held you. 

He tried not to think of anything else other than you. How you felt, how you smelled, how you sounded. Who you were, who you became, who you will be. He was swallowed in you and he didn’t ever want to leave that abyss. 

A rush of heat settled inside your stomach, maddening and burning with such intensity it was practically speaking to you. “Steve, you can move. I’m ready, please move.”

He’s as deep as he can go and you’re both breathing hard and he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. As far as declarations of love go, this was perhaps the most graceless, but he knew it was sincere and real. Steve felt a moment of unrelenting panic, like he had just accidentally verbally admitted it. But he hadn’t, and selfishly enough, he would keep it to himself for as long as he could until he himself could come to terms with it. 

There are definitely going to be marks on your skin once you’re done here, but you couldn’t care less - not when Steve just let go of his worries and started to thrust in and out of you, deep and slow. He meets you with a long kiss, hips picking up their pace as you match his rhythm. His hands grip your hips tighter, every thrust working deep into you and prying desperate moans for him to savor. 

The drag as he pulls out leaves you lightheaded. And as he pushes back in, it leaves you with a burst of satisfaction at the base of your spine. You can’t even form words as you’re reduced to a stuttering series of ‘uh-uh-uhs’, fully in the moment and fucked stupid. All you could do is push your hips forward and up to meet him halfway, match your moans to his, clench around him to draw out that choked sob from his throat that he tries and fails to contain. You tried your best to ignore the slight pain in the middle of your back, and the sting and stretch down below made sure of it. 

He was stammering around every syllable of your name. Breathy moans followed. 

“Steve, faster, please baby.” Steve stuttered in his movements, eyes squeezed shut as he registered your request. He followed through, however, lifting your hip in one hand and turning you at an angle that made him hit deeper and in a special spot you didn’t know you had. No one had reached it, not even when you played with yourself, and your squeal of delight alerted Steve of his accomplishment. Each pleasurable noise encouraged Steve to maintain whatever rhythm he had going. So he hit it over and over again, working at it hungrily, ignoring his shaking arms and praying the serum could be useful for more than just bullets and super speed. 

“You feel so fucking perfect. So fucking great,” he panted, watching your face as it contorted into a silent scream. You were coming again, hands braced on his biceps as your voice failed to warn him. You clenched and unclenched around him, head thrown far back into the pillow as your chest ripped with the sound it was harbouring. 

You had never come from penetration alone and you bet the fact it was Steve bringing you to climax was definitely a main factor, but it was so damn intense that your legs gave out and simply flopped onto the mattress. Steve stopped hammering into you for a minute, breathing heavily as he allowed you a cooldown. 

“I didn’t feel that coming, I’m sorry,” you laughed, arm coming up to cover your eyes. 

Steve chuckled and removed your arm, “You good?”

You were still seeing white spots and your head was slightly cloudy, but the knowledge that Steve hadn’t yet come fueled you. And the possibility of him coming inside you kickstarted another wave of desire in each of your vertebrae. 

“Yeah, I just have one favor,” you stated honestly, wiggling uncomfortably. “Could you flip me over? In this position, you’re really pushing down on my bruise.”

He moaned shamefully from the greedy thought of having you on your stomach. The angel on one shoulder chastised him, telling him to flip you over for the sake of your comfort. But that little devil, greedy and seeking his finish, told him to flip you over and fuck you into the mattress. He compromised. 

He flipped you over and helped you place a pillow just below your hips. He watched as you threw your hair to one side and bent your arms at the elbows. Hands now placed below your head and hips wiggling in front of him, Steve parted your legs and sunk into you again. 

“Yes, fuck, yes…” you mewled, hips raising ever so slightly to drag him in deeper. Steve watched the area where you were connected, wonder clouding his mind as he dipped deeper, deeper, until his hips connected with your bottom. He wasn’t used to this position and he never really thought that he would enjoy it so much. It was like he reached new depths, your pleasure could only come from the way he rolled his hips - yeah, he needed to put you in every position his mind could fathom. 

His jaw went slack as he pulled out and pushed back in, hair sticking to his own forehead and mouth feeling dry and watery at the same time. 

He fucked you in earnest, hoping he could draw out one more orgasm from you. You were putty beneath him, hair now mangled and sticking with the sweat on your neck and back. You were a repetition of ‘yes, yes, yes’ and ‘fuck please, fuck, please!’, sloppy in all senses. He didn’t slow down because one: he was chasing his finish, and two: you didn’t tell him to. 

You were a whimpering mess, a tiny pool of drool forming beneath your mouth and on the sheets. It wasn’t like you didn’t try to swallow it - you physically couldn’t. 

Steve was growing erratic now as his end neared. He fell over you, none of his weight actually on you as he wrapped one arm under your stomach and the other hand sneaking its way to your clit. His cheek was planted on your back and in that moment, he remembered your growing bruise. So he lifted his face back up and planted several wet kisses over, inbetween, and alongside your shoulder blades. The soft gesture had you tearing up from both adoration and heat. You fisted the sheets underneath you and met Steve’s ruts as best as you could. 

He rubbed quick circles over your clit, relishing in the feeling of your velvet walls pulsating around him. “Come for me, doll.”

You didn’t know if he could hear himself begging, but he repeated that sentence several more times before you spoke. It was like you chose for him. “Come inside me, Steve. Please, please, please!”

That strung-out whine of yours did it. Steve pressed his mouth against your skin with a breathless groan as he spilled into you in long spurts. Simply feeling him coat your walls with what sounded like a painful cry had you coming for the third time tonight. You didn’t have enough energy to vocalize it so just pushed your head into the pillow and prayed you could still walk tomorrow. 

Steve’s heartbeat is in his ears as he comes down from his high. He enjoys it for a few more seconds before finally snapping back to reality, lifting himself from you and slowly pulling out. He groaned deeply as he watched his spent drip from you and onto the pillow hoisting you up. He wrapped a hand around himself to milk whatever else he had as he watched. 

You two lay beside each other for several minutes, chests heaving and blood settling to its normal speed again. 

You glanced to your left and giggled as you witnessed Steve’s blissed out state, tip of his nose still pink, eyelashes creating such a lovely shadow on his cheeks, cock giving a few spent stutters as the rush of blood found another body part to supply. 

He turned to you as well, a lazy smile greeting you. “We’re good at that.”

This time you laughed loudly, throwing yourself over his chest and hugging him close. He laughed with you and kissed the top of your head as he enjoyed the feeling.

After another couple minutes, you both decided it was time to clean up. He resisted the urge to laugh when you stood up, legs wobbly and chest still trying to catch full breaths. You looked drunk, eyes glossy and hair disorderly. The look suited you, really. 

You thought the same about him. 

Steve swore he was about to crumble when you both returned from the bathroom and you headed for your own bed. It was a betrayal for only a millisecond before you commented on how you were not sleeping in soiled sheets and that he could ‘obviously’ join you in your bed tonight. You kept talking, telling him how you weren’t necessarily a cuddler but you would sacrifice one night for him. But ‘do not be alarmed when you find me on the other side of the bed in the morning!’, and the good ache in his chest swelled once again. 

     Once, in 1935, when Steve was seventeen and too weak to breathe in a lick of clean air, the pneumonia eating away at his lungs and taunting his mother, who was rotating between cold and hot rags; that 1935 sickness was one of the few times he was hopeless. Sure, he pulled through because he’s Steve Rogers. But not being able to breathe really scares a person, and so he didn’t feel hopeless - he was hopeless. His own body betrayed him and made his mother, who nursed him while Bucky worked extra shifts at the dock to help her with groceries, cry like a blubbering newborn - well, Steve was forced to put his faith in God. It’s what his mother would have wanted him to do.

And when he couldn’t reach far enough to grasp Bucky’s trembling hand, when he watched him fall into that icy ravine to his supposed death in 1944, he was hopeless. Completely obliterated from the bottom of his heart, up. 

In 2018, when he lost the ultimate battle and saw half the world disintegrate, and the itchiness spread itself far and wide to all the crevices in his crumbling soul, pouring into crack after crack after crack - there was no need to even label himself hopeless anymore. He hadn’t had hope in anything after he caused the destruction of one of his only true 21st century friendships; not since he dropped that shield at the feet of one friend while he walked away with another. There was no hopelessness - simply less. 

But now, with you in his arms and treading lightly along his second chance, his heart was bursting with the possibility of relearning the definition of hope, craving to feel human again - to feel like Steve Rogers again. Sure, he may still believe his glass is half empty instead of half full, and he was pushing the ideals of that shield far too much down the line, but Steve swore the awe in your eyes was the hope he had lost. 

He couldn’t believe you were the host of it all along. 

So he settled in his new home, in his new hope, praying God would let him have it, and closed his eyes. This Steve, who was asleep for over seventy years and was robbed of the life he was supposed to live. This Steve, who wished he could erase all the lost time filled with stupid tantrums and half-assed apologies and pretend it never happened. No lies about ‘maybe it helped you two grow!’ He had poisoned his happiness years ago and god forbid he would let himself do it again. 

This Steve, who only wanted to protect and be protected. Steve, with all his heart, his mind, and his soul, burning brilliant.

~

A/N: man i know this is long but i literally write the chapters in sections and i don’t realize until I paste them together omgggg xxMoni

Taglist: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​ 

[marvxlousqueen]

So Fucking Sore- Bucky x Loki x Reader

i have returned from the dead to deliver this smut for my friend’s birthday LMAOO anyways for this let’s just pretend tony killed thanos in endgame and brought back nat and gamora and nobody died haha yes anyways bucky is a simp in this tbh (and i’ve never written for loki so forgive me if it’s bad LMAOO)

anyways happy bday bestie (don’t wanna expose ur name on here lol) love u <3

word count: 3.5k

The Avengers compound was more full than it had ever been. Finally, every floor was filled, every guest room taken, some sleeping bags even rolled onto the floor. Tony hadn’t planned to host the entirety of the avengers force, some odd one thousand people. After defeating Thanos and fixing the time lines, Tony felt as though they deserved a break and a celebration. Although most people were still recovering and wouldn’t stay for long at the party, he figured laughter is the best medicine- that, and he always loved an occasion to show off his hosting skills. 

Tony’s invitation even extended to the staff at the compound, which is how (Y/n) found herself holding a rsvp letter, trying to decide which box to check off. 

“Yes [   ]  (+1)   No [    ]”

She fumbled with the letter, pen getting heavy in her hand. She was seated in her office, taking her lunch break in between helping some of the injured Wakandan soldiers. Being an on-site nurse, of course she had had encounters with the team, but nothing like this party would be. 

Would it be embarrassing if I didn’t have a plus one, she thought

She was interrupted by a knock at her door. “Come in,” she said without looking up. 

The door slowly opened and Bucky entered, small smile on his face. 

“Hey.. just figured I’d bring you some snacks. Figure you must be real busy in the infirmary.”

He set a plate of strawberries on the table with a bottle of water, metal arm extending towards her. (Y/n) could briefly see her reflection in the shine of the vibranium. She lost herself for a moment, examining his arm.

“(Y/n)?” 

“What- oh yeah! Super busy. Thanks, Buck,” she gave him a smile, cheeks burning.

They had always had some sort of chemistry, but she just couldn’t quite get a read on it enough to make a move. Ever since reconnecting with Steve, Bucky had gotten back into his old ways. Still a giant flirt, just maybe a little more shy than in the 40s. He loved to toss some pick up lines around whenever he wound up in the infirmary (which was a little too often), so (Y/n) couldn’t figure out if he really liked her or was flirty with everyone. 

“What’s that you got there?” He motioned to the rsvp letter on her desk, still unanswered.

“Oh, invitation to Tony’s party thing this weekend. Think he’s trying to get a head count for seats and food. Don’t think I’m going to go, though.”

Bucky pulled up a chair to her desk, “Why wouldn’t you go? You should be celebrating too, I mean- half of us wouldn’t be in this good of a condition without your healing hands.”

His lips pulled into a smirk as he saw her smile shyly. He loved how we could always make her melt at the slightest compliement.

“I think it might be a little embarrassing to show up without a plus one.. I don’t know, it’s probably stupid, but it seems like everyone has someone, you know?”

(Y/n) shrugged, not sure how else to explain her thoughts.

Bucky nodded, running a hand through his hair, “So- what, you’re waiting for someone to ask you?” 

“I- No, but it would be nice, I guess.”

Bucky felt his face heat up. Here’s my chance, he thought. A chance to get some real action because I’ve been out of it for too fucking long. 

(Y/n) looked up at him, waiting for a response. When nothing came, she pushed through her nerves. “You don’t have a date, do you?”

His eyes snapped up to hers, wide with worry. “I-uh-no. D-don’t need one. Just a party, you know? Kinda stupid to get a date for a party like this.”

“Oh- yeah, totally,” (Y/n) stumbled over her words, facing burning with embarrassment. Did he call me stupid? Well, I guess that answers my questions- he is definitely NOT into me. 

 Bucky almost slapped himself after seeing the way (Y/n)’s face dropped. THAT CAME OUT WRONG THAT CAME OUT WRONG THAT CAME OUT WRONG!! He meant to come off as relaxed and nonchalant like he used to be, but instead he sounded like a dick. 

Before he could get an apology out, another knock was heard from her office door. “C-come in!”

Steve opened the door, “Hey- oh hey buck,” Bucky awkwardly waved at him, still busy screaming at himself, “anyways, (Y/n)- Thor’s got friends on the way and apparently they got a little scuffed up on the way from Norway, so you think you can head in and check on em?” 

“Yes! Totally! Uh- bye Bucky, I-I’ll see you.” She jumped out of her seat and rushed off down the hall, happy to get away from this tension with Bucky.

Steve watched her speed off down the hall before turning back to his old friend. “So.. how’s that going?”

Bucky sighed, “It’s not going at all. I think I accidently called her dumb? I don’t know- I kinda blacked out for a minute there.”

Steve patted him on the shoulder, “You’ll be fine. You got plenty of time to fix anything and make your move when you’re ready, all right?”

He understood how his friend was having some difficulties. While he was far more stable then he used to be, Bucky still had his moments and was working through them. Steve couldn’t be prouder. 

“I guess you’re right. As long as no other guy tries to scoop her up.”

--

(Y/n) entered the infirmary, breathing hard from the speed walk she took to escape that awkwardness. Laying on two of the beds was a tall man with long black hair and some sort of creature with knives attached to it’s hands. 

“(Y/n)! My friends require your services!” Thor shouts, embracing her in a hug.

She laughs as he squeezes her tightly, “Of course! Now let me go so I can help-”

The man who was reclining on the first bed sat up, eyebrows raised. “You’re a healer?”

She looked towards him, noting his accent was similar to Thor’s, “Well- no. Not a healer, just a nurse, but I’ll do my best. With all this new tech it’ll be real easy to batch you up. What happened?”

Thor spoke up, “My dear friend here,” he motioned toward the creature with the blades for hands, “Miek- got into a argument with my dear brother and knives were thrown. Just minor stab wounds of course, but it would be nice for them to be healed before Stark’s feast.”

“Your brother?” She looked towards the man with black hair, who offered a smile. “You’re Loki?” 

“The trickster god indeed.”

Her face heated up, partially in fear and partially in awe. Before her was the man who constantly tried to rule Earth. “Are you-,” she turned to Thor, “is he allowed to be here?”

“Of course! He aided me in our fight against Thanos. He stands as an avenger now.” 

Loki rolled his eyes and began to spin a small knife he pulled from his boot.  (Y/n) nodded, still registering everything, “Well, uh , okay then. Where’s the stab wound?” 

Loki moved to lift his shirt. On his left side was a gash still dripping blood. (Y/n) took a deep breathe, forcing herself to focus on his wound and not the outline of his abs and the way sweat was dripping down.

“Oh- jesus christ, okay. Let me get some stuff.”

The creature on the other bed made a noise and (Y/n) realized he was injured too, a small blade sticking out of his leg. 

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She ran to the other side to grab materials and begin patching them up. The process went like a blur. All she could feel was the way Loki’s body felt warm against hers, not like the cold she was expecting from his being a dark elf. His hand brushed against hers as he admired her handy work, eyes moving from her face to her form. Finally she was done and seated back in her office, yelling at herself for being so horny today for no goddamn reason. 

As she took a seat once again, she noticed the still blank rsvp card.

God-fucking-damn it

She still had a decision to make. As she went to check the “No [   ]” box, her door opened. Loki walked in and quickly made himself comfortable, sitting across from her. 

“I wish to thank you for the help.”

(Y/n) nodded, eyes wide, “Of course, yeah, anyth-”

“I also wish to invite you to Stark’s feast.”

She froze, mouth slightly open. I don’t even know this dude! And he’s killed a shit ton of people..

“Uh, well,” oh fuck it, “I would love that. Thanks.”

He smiled, “I’ll see you then, (Y/n).”

He left and closed the door behind him. She rushed to fill out the card and went to find Tony. Knowing him, he’d probably be down in his lab playing robots with Morgan. (Y/n) hopped in the elevator and headed towards the basement above the parking garage. It stopped around 3 floors down and the sign flashed “gym.” The doors opened and Bucky entered, sweaty from trying to workout and get rid of all these new feelings he’s having. He didn’t look up from his phone until the doors closed behind him. 

His eyes landed on hers, “O-oh hey! Hi.”

(Y/n) gave him a wave and looked down at her letter, rolling it up in her hands.

“You going to the party?”

“Yep.”

“That’s good! Really good! Because you really don’t need a date for stuff like this, we’re all friends, right?” Bucky was desperately trying to make up for what he had said earlier. 

“I have a date actually.”

His eyes widened, “What? Who?”

She turned and shrugged, “Just some guy I met, don’t think you would know him.”

A light went off in his head- she’s trying to make me jealous, isn’t she! She doesn’t have a date! She just wants me to make my move!

Bucky laughed and gave her a smirk, “You don’t have to lie to impress me, doll.”

She whipped around, “Excuse me? You don’t think I can get a date?”

His cheeks turned bright red, “W-what? No, you’re just trying to make me jealous.. right?”

Her jaw dropped, “You are so full of it.” 

The elevator dinged and (Y/n) exited into the basement, leaving Bucky’s head full of questions.

Did I just fuck up again, he thought. 

The next few days past fairly quickly. (Y/n) spent her time in the medical bay once again, dealing with minor injuries and organizing the first aid kits. The few highlights she did have was a quick lunch with Loki, which seemed very abnormal for him. He showed up in her office with, as he called it, “Midgardian Trash,” which was just a plate of different snack foods that Clint had recommended. They ate in a comfortable silence, sharing a few thoughts here and there, until he took his que to leave. (Y/n) walked him to the door and was surprised when he pressed a kiss to her cheek, making her face heat up.

“See you tomorrow, dear (Y/n).”

She stumbled out a response, making him laugh at her speechlessness. After work she rushed to prepare herself for Saturday night.

--

It was probably the biggest party upstate New York had ever seen. Completely catered, a professional band, everyone dressed up in their finest clothing. (Y/n) would’ve felt completely out of place if it wasn’t for Loki’s arm wrapped around her waist as they entered. He was dressed in a black suit with a dark green tie, constantly repping his main color. Time flew as they spun on the dance floor and drank a little too much, although alcohol didn’t seem to have much effect on him. Loki excused himself to the restroom as (Y/n) downed a glass of water to sober up. She felt someone sit next to her at the bar.

“Look, I’m not interested-”

“Are you crazy? Like- do you genuinely have a death wish?”

She looked beside her and was face to face with Bucky. It felt weird to see him so dressed up. She was used to the sweats and t-shirts, but she had to admit that he cleaned up nice. 

“What are you talking about?”

He glared at her, “Loki? Your date is LOKI. Steve filled me in, I know everything. He’s killed people, (Y/n)! A lot of them!”

“So have you.”

“I-” His voice faltered. “That’s different, you know it is. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Well don’t be. He’s actually a pretty good guy. And here he comes now.”

Loki appeared, tapping Bucky on the shoulder, “can I help you?”

“We were just talking.”

He laughed, “seems you would rather do much more than that.”

(Y/n)’s brows furrowed, ‘What does that mean?”

Bucky’s face turned red, “nothing! I guess I’ll leave you two alone now.” 

“Nonsense,” Loki pushed him back into the chair. “Tell the woman what you think of her. Perhaps it could work out for you, or for us both.”

“What!?”

(Y/n) was confused again, “What the fuck are you guys talking about?”

Loki looked her up and down, “don’t be a fool. He fancies you, as do I. I propose an agreement-”

“wait what,” she looked at Bucky, “you like me? Like- more than a friend?”

He looked down at the table, confused and frustrated about his feelings and about how this alien douchebag was making fun of him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke up.

“Listen asshole-”

Loki rolled his eyes, “do you wish to mount the lady or no?”

(Y/n) choked on her water, “what the fuck-”

Bucky’s eyes felt like they would fall out of his head, but he responded instinctively, “yes, god yes.”

Butterflies went off in (Y/n)’s stomach, eyes locked onto Bucky’s face.

“Great. So do I. So we shall share her then? Tonight? What do you think?” 

Loki turned to (Y/n), who was in shock.

“I-what?”

“Tonight, the two of us, yes? In your chambers, perhaps.”

“I-uh, okay.”

Bucky licked his lips, “Okay?”

“Yes, I mean-fuck, why not. You are both.. wow.”

Loki laughed, “Great, but truly shocking how blind you mortals are to each other.” 

The three of them sat in a weird tension at the bar while waiting for Tony to give his toast. After about 10 minutes of emotional rambling, Tony finally raised his glass to the Avengers. (Y/n) downed her drink and looked to the two men sitting beside her. Locking eyes, they shared a common thought and all excused themselves one by one. They found their way into (Y/n)’s bedroom, where she made herself at home by throwing off the heels she had been wearing all night. 

“So-uh-”

Bucky cut off her rambling with a hot, open mouthed kiss pressed to her lips. His hands trailed down her sides and grabbed her ass. He pulled away, breathing hard. “You have no idea, how long I’ve wanted to do that.” 

He suddenly felt far more confident and began to strip off his suit, starting with the tie that had been choking him all night. Loki threw off his coat and pushed (Y/n) onto her bed. 

“I want you to kneel.” 

She stood up on her knees, face flushed, waiting for his next move. He slowly undid his pants and pulled out his cock. 

Well, yeah, he’s definitely packing

(Y/n) pressed a kiss to the tip before licking her way from the bottom back to the top. She took a deep breath and took him in her mouth as far as she could. Loki began to thrust, gripping her hair and pushing her forward, using her mouth as a fucktoy. (Y/n) opened her eyes to look up at him and noticed Bucky on the side, hand in his pants, eyes zeroed in on her mouth. She motioned for Bucky to strip, making him drop his pants and boxers, leaving him now completely exposed. His hand continued to pump his length, whimpers leaving his mouth. Loki noticed (Y/n)’s eye’s on Bucky and pulled away from her, leaving spit and precum dripping down her mouth.

“Take her.”

Bucky’s face flushed, embarrassed to be doing exactly what some other dude told him to. He walked towards the bed, cock standing proudly. 

“Is this okay?”

(Y/n) nodded yes, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him onto the bed with her. With Bucky underneath her, she lined up with his dick and sunk down onto it.

“Fuck! Jesus-fuck-”

(Y/n) couldn’t think for a moment, too distracted by how much he was stretching her. Bucky’s head was thrown up and his grip on her thighs tightened. He lifted his tips and bucked into her, making her gasp again.

Regaining her composure, (Y/n) began to roll her hips. As she rode him, Bucky sat up and his lips found their way to her neck, leaving marks up and down it. From the side of the bed, she could see Loki completely exposed now, hand running up and down his length as he watched them. He smirked as he caught her eye, making it more of a show. 

His hand moved faster before focusing on his tip. (Y/n)’s thoughts were broken from him as Bucky began to paw at her clit, rubbing it just the right way. Her hands went to his hair, pulling him close.

“God, so fucking-shit-so tight-”

Bucky’s voiced was strained, trying not to finish before her, but (Y/n) was making it difficult with how tight she was clamped around him. 

“Fuck-i’m so close, please!”

Bucky started thrusting up into her, “say my name-fuck”

“Bucky! Please!”

He rammed into her with a quick pace, hands groping her ass. (Y/n) a warmth growing in her, squeezing his dick even more. Finally, she reached her peak and exploded around him, dripping her juices down his dick. Bucky quickly flipped them over, putting one of her legs over his shoulder and started to pound into her. (Y/n) choked on her breath, completely overwhelmed from the overstimulation. Bucky’s thrusts began to stutter until he bucked one last time, going deep into her and exploding. He filled her up and slowly pulled out, seeing his cum dripping out of her.

“Holy shit.”

(Y/n) laughed, trying to catch her breath, “thanks, you too.”

“Quite the show, indeed.”

(Y/n) had almost forgot there was a whole other dude waiting to fuck her. Looking over, Loki’s cock was still standing tall, the tip burning red. 

He stood up and made his way to the bed, “On your hands and knees.”

His command made butterflies form in her stomach. (Y/n) turned over and got on her hands and knees. Loki entered her without warning, making her scream out in surprise. His hand came to her head, pushing her into the mattress. His pace picked up as he slammed into her.

“Jesus-fucking-god!”

Loki laughed through his heavy breathing, literally fucking her into the mattress.

“Let’s get something in that mouth, yes? Barnes-”

Bucky’s eyes moved from watching where Loki was connecting with (Y/n) to her mouth. “Sure-yeah, fuck yes.”

Bucky was thankful for his super soldier qualities because he was already up for round two. He got on the bed, dick facing (Y/n)’s mouth. She got back on her hands and kissed his tip before he pushed in. Bucky let (Y/n) control the pace although most times she was pushed on his dick by Loki’s hard thrusts. (Y/n) lost track of time as she getting literally fucking railed. Loki’s thrusts began to speed up and sweat was dripping down his godly body. 

(Y/n) felt the coil in her stomach tighten again, warmth spreading through out her, she was close, moaning around Bucky’s length. He pulled out of her mouth and began to jerk off, enjoying the show Loki and her were putting on. 

(Y/n) screamed as she reached her climax for the second time that night, eyes rolling to the back of her head, but Loki didn’t slow. He continued until one finally thrust, he pulled out and spilled onto her back, throwing his head back.

The noises (Y/n) was making made Bucky cum into his own hand before collapsing on the bed. 

(Y/n) dropped onto the bed, legs shaking. “Jesus- fuck.”

Bucky put a hand to her cheek, “you okay? We didn’t hurt you, did we?”

She shook her head, “No, just-fuck- I’m gonna be so fucking sore.”

[stark-tony]

today is my 22nd birthday so i’m celebrating by reccing 22 of my favorite fics and giving my general thoughts about them.

atla

 i'm still here by owedbetter (77.7, T, zutara) "You see me."And somehow, that makes all the difference.

thoughts: One of the first zutara fics i ever read and it’s still one of my absolute favorites. The characterization of all of the characters is superb and the gradual development of zuko and katara’s relationship is amazing.

 such selfish prayers by andromeda3116 (47.6k, T, zutara)  Katara's ambition, so long set aside for the good of others, breaks free and sets fire to her soul. Or, Katara has a vision of her canon future, casts it aside, and becomes a world-changing politician instead.

thoughts: while this fic is a zutara fic, the majority of this fic is centered on katara and her helping rebuild the world after the war and it does an astounding job of portraying just that. and honestly this probably has my favorite characterization of katara i’ve ever read in a fic.

 Southern Lights by colourwhirled (501.8k, M, zutara) A world where the Avatar has disappeared from memory. Where Sozin’s Conquest was successful. Where the unsteady order of the empire is threatened as members of the royal family are picked off one by one and lines are slowly drawn in the sand.One last chance for peace forces an unlikely alliance between a homesick waterbender, a carefree Air Nomad, a runaway Earth Kingdom heiress, and the fire lord's inscrutable son. Together they must learn to shed old enmities and become the balance they seek to restore to the world.OR:The avatar has four heads.x[[Chapter 4: "And always, his eyes, cautiously watching her. Even when he thinks she isn’t looking. It drives her mad"]]

thoughts: when i say i was unable to put this fic down i genuinely mean that. like i’m pretty sure i was hooked from the very first chapter and i never looked back.

bnha

  stickers and stars by aloneintherain (1.9k, G, gen) “Aizawa, are you sure I’m the best person for this job? There are a lot more qualified people on campus. People who have been teachers for years, and—”As All Might spoke, Midoriya Izuku crawled the length of the couch, ducked under All Might’s arm, and made himself comfortable on his lap. All Might’s hands rose into the air, as though unsure of what to with his arms now that he had a toddler curled against his stomach like a cat seeking the warmth of its owner.“Um,” All Might said.

thoughts: is it not enough to say ‘baby deku’ and leave it at that?

 Butterfly by aconstantstateofbladerunner (198.8k, T, gen) The first over-night trip off campus since the training camp was supposed to be a fun break from more intense work back home. But between a bleak introduction to chaos theory, a chilly reception from the locals, and the looming threat of a villain attack, Izuku has too much on his mind to properly enjoy the fresh air. But those worries are a light breeze compared to the hurricane that accompanies what he finds on the outskirts of town.Or rather, what finds him.

thoughts: it’s incredibly well written and the horror aspect is so good. also the dad might in it is top tier.

villain eradication plan 5C: let them attack budding heroes mothers, wait appropriate time for mother to defeat them (3.4k, G, toshinko)  Targetting the civilian families of hero students should be cakewalk. Pity they decided to go with Inko first.Or the one where Inko accidentally defeats the League of Villains.

thoughts: this fic is basically inko accidentally being a badass and it’s as hilarious and awesome as it sounds

 see it all in bloom by aloneintherain (57.2k, T,  tododeku, kiribaku, momojirou, bullying) Midoriya looked over the occupants of the room with butter soft eyes. “We should do this again. Seeing everyone in one place … it’s like we’re back in school again.”Todoroki said, “It feels like a family reunion.”(Social media fic, counting down the five months to Class 1-A's ten year reunion.) 

thoughts: this series deals with social media + the lives of class 1a after they become pro heroes and it is amazing.

 remember from here on in by aloneintherain (8.1k, G, gen) Aizawa glances from All Might to Midoriya quickly. It sounds impossible—he’s never heard of a quirk that can be handed down like a family heirloom—but at the same time, it makes perfect sense. Midoriya’s inability to use his quirk at the start of the year. The strange, familial relationship between All Might and Midoriya. The slow malnourishment of All Might’s body, like his power was being siphoned away.“You’re …” Aizawa begins.“I’m All Might’s successor.” Midoriya’s proud but shaky voice rings clearly down the empty corridor.Aizawa finds out about One for All. 

thoughts: this fic deals with one for all being revealed to aizawa + midoriya getting more quirks and it is amazing

could i but teach the hundredth part by terra_incognita (5.2k, G, gen) Ito Matsu knows three things about her neighbor, Mr. Yagi: he's very skinny, he's very kind, and he has enough children to overthrow the Japanese government.Or:All Might is retired, but his former students keep coming up with reasons to visit. 

thoughts: this fic is so lovely and i adore it so much

mcu

 the talk by parkrstark (3.1k, pepperony) “Wait, man, what’re you doin’?” Rhodey asked, leaning forward.“Giving the kid his talk before he goes off to college.” Duh.Rhodey blinked. “At 3am when you’re probably too drunk to even spell your name, months before he actually has to leave?”“Yeah.”Rhodey blinked again. “Okay.”

thoughts: this fic is absolutely hilarious and poor peter is suffering throughout all of it

 call you home by Madelinedear (19k, G, pepperony) sometimes family is who you're born with.and sometimes family is a spider boy, a rich not-dad, and a kickass aunt.(or; tony, may, and peter find a place in each other's lives)

thoughts: to me, this fic is the tony may co-parenting fic. like i honestly don’t think that anything can ever top it

I Never Lived 'Til I Lived In Your Light by losingmymindtonight (38.4k, T, pepperony, character death)  As the world shifts to make space for Morgan Stark, everyone around her shifts, too. (As it turns out, this also includes Peter Parker's sleep schedule.) 

thoughts: this fic is both fluffy goodness and heartwrenching angst and it handles both beautifully.

 Lazarus, come forth by iron_spider (47.9k, T, pepperony) Tony's mind is a chaotic mess but he remembers the moment—remembers his death, remembers the red hot pain and Peter screaming, Rhodey rushing to his side. How he knew he’d never see Pepper again—but they’d fixed it. They’d fixed the world, erased the lost time, set things right—and the kid was back. The kid was crying, the kid hated him for doing what he did, but he was back. He was alive.Tony Stark was dead. But now he’s breathing again, trying to think, gasping, hands tracing the box surrounding him, covering him, suffocating him.He’s in a coffin. He’s under the ground. He’s under the fucking ground.(Tony Stark dies defeating Thanos. But then he comes back to life. He has to find out how, why, and how to live again. And how to deal with the changes in the people he's coming back to.)

thoughts: although this fic was written and finished pre-endgame but to me this fic is the fix-it fic for film.

Identity Saga by KitCat992 (400.7k, T, pepperony) An organically developed, platonic slow-burn of Avengers-fam dynamic with a heavy hand of Irondad & Spiderson. Throw in an overdose of whump, a couple of cunning villains and a big-bad hiding in the shadows, and you got yourself this hot mess.

thoughts: i just love the avengers dynamic in this series and the whump is medically accurate which is amazing.

college applications: the biggest meme by sagemb (3.3k, T, pepperony) Tony covered his face with both hands and screamed very gently. “Can I just bribe the school to let Peter in?"

thoughts: this series is absolutely hilarious and i love it

hp  

 The Changeling + Armistice Series  by Annerb (586.6k, M, hinny, rape) Ginny is sorted into Slytherin. It takes her seven years to figure out why.

thoughts: this fic is absolutely golden and i adore it so so much. the characters are so well written and the worldbuilding in this fic is fantastic and it actually has an original aspect of hogwarts (aka the parlor) that i practially consider to be canon at this point. also the depiction of slytherin house + house unity in this fic is just *chef’s kiss*

 boy with a scar by dirgewithoutmusic (208.7k, T, hinny, romione, jily)  A series of "what if" rewrites of Harry Potter, books 1-7. Cross-posted from tumblr (ink-splotch).

thoughts: every single one of these fics are exquisitely written and i wish that i could experience the beauty of this series again for the very first time.

  Hogwarts, to welcome you home by gedsparrowhawk (FaceChanger) (11.1k, G, ginny) “You understand, Professor,” Harry began, after a moment, “that I don’t have my N.E.W.T.s. I never even finished seventh year. Between everything, I never had a chance the first time around, and then afterwards there didn’t seem to be much point. Hermione argued for it, of course, but I was so tired of Britain. So technically, I am completely unqualified for the position.”“Quite a way to begin an interview, Mr. Potter,” McGonagall said, dryly.Or, three years after the war, Harry Potter becomes Hogwarts' newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

thoughts: this is my favorite harry as dada professor i’ve ever read. no doubt about it

 And the Unethical Binding Contract by justafandomfollower (14.6k, G, gen) AU. What if the Triwizard Tournament took place in Harry's first year, not his fourth? 

thoughts: this fic is beautifully written and i love the relationship that forms between harry, cedric, krum, and fleur.

Regulus Black and the Way Things Changed: A Not!Fic by imaginary_golux (8.8k, T, wolfstar) What if Regulus Black, and not Severus Snape, ended up being the turncoat Potions Master of Hogwarts?A not!fic written in bullet points, ignoring the Deathly Hallows entirely because they annoy me.Beta by my immensely patient Best Beloved, Turn_of_the_Sonic_Screw, and by the delightful starbirdrampant.

thoughts: this fic may be ooc at some points but it’s so funny that that makes up for it

spn

 Broadway Musical by Griftings (12.5k, M, destiel) This is the day that marked the Holy and Blessed Union of Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle.The merging of prominent bloodlines is always a grand occurrence, but breeding pedigree hunter families like Winchester and Harvelle is something to be rejoiced. It is also something to be meticulously planned, which thankfully the Host is very good at.Or, the romantic comedy where Dean Winchester and Jo Harvelle are destined to get married, Castiel is given the task of playing matchmaker and fails terribly, the entire Heavenly Host becomes a sitcom audience, God warns against male pregnancy, and Jimmy Novak is incredibly unimpressed with angels in general.

thoughts: this fic is quite possibly the single most funniest thing i have ever read. like i was straight up cackling when i was reading some of the scenes.

  Down to Agincourt by seperis (1 million+, E, destiel) There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

--Harry Takes the Field by bratfarrar (AO3 link here.)

thoughts: this fic is an absolute work of art. the characterization dean and cas and all of the ocs is astounding the world building is immaculate and the writing is so detailed and in depth. a fair warning though to the first time reader as this fic can get very confusing at times but trust me it is worth it.