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fysebastianstan · 5 years ago

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Sebastian Stan jumped at the chance to try his hand at improvising for the duration of Drake Doremus’ latest relationship drama, Endings, Beginnings. Starring opposite Shailene Woodley and Jamie Dornan, Stan plays an Angeleno named Frank, whose erratic behavior complicates a budding relationship between Daphne (Woodley) and his friend Jack (Dornan). Despite being intimidated by the exercise of improvisation, Stan knew it was important for him to see what he was capable of without the comfort and safety of a script.

“I’ve always felt protected by scripts, lines and scenes. I feel like I’m one of those people who’s opened up much more by scripts. I’m not as witty on my own,” Stan tells The Hollywood Reporter. “This was one of those different experiences, and I would certainly do it again. I’d be curious to see if I could ever use parts of [improvisation] in a bigger movie… So, maybe this was a really training experience for that.”

Until the coronavirus pandemic shut down the entirety of Hollywood, Stan was just a few weeks away from wrapping Marvel Studios’ The Falcon and the Winter Soldier — the MCU’s first foray into scripted television for Disney+. Since many fans have wondered whether the show would maintain the look and feel of its theatrical counterparts, Stan is now shedding some light on how cinematic the streaming show is.

“It felt like both. In a lot of ways, it felt like a movie,” Stan recalls. “What I loved about it was that, tonally, it was very much in the same world that Captain America: The Winter Soldier was, which was one of my favorite experiences that I’ve ever had, period. So, in a sense, it was grounded and very much in the world as we know it. But, it’s also really jam-packed with a lot of massive, massive action scenes mixed with deep focus on character. These characters are getting so much more mileage for all of us to explore them. We can put them in situations that we’ve never been able to put them in before because you now have six hours as opposed to two.”

Now a year removed from the release of Avengers: Endgame, the highest grossing film of all time, questions are still being asked about Steve Rogers (Chris Evans) and Bucky Barnes’ concluding moments. While many fans agree with Rogers’ choice to pass his iconic shield on to Sam Wilson, there’s also a contingent of fans who wanted to see Bucky take on the mantle of Captain America from his best friend. To Stan, Steve was giving Bucky the same gift he gave himself: a life.

“Steve is saying to Bucky, ‘You’re going to go and do that, too. I’m not going to put this thing on you. We’re both going to live our lives — the lives that were actually taken from us back in the ‘40s when we enlisted,’” Stan explains. “So, that’s where I felt they were at the end of the movie. I don’t think there’s a desire or any conflicted thoughts about taking on that mantle. Sam, to me, was always the clear man to take on that mantle for numerous reasons, which also comes with so much more baggage that’s going to be explored in the show. I guess you’ll have to tune into Disney+ to find out why. (Laughs.) At the end of Endgame, for either Steve or Bucky, it’s really not about the shield.”

In a recent conversation with THR, Stan elaborates on the process of improvising an entire movie, the latest with Disney+’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier and his interpretation of Steve and Bucky’s last moments in Avengers: Endgame.

How’s everything with you in New York?

It’s alright considering what people are going through out there. I’m pretty lucky. I haven’t been home in a long time so it’s been good to be home. You always feel weird when somebody says you can’t do something; It’s difficult to grasp that quickly. But, in truth, if I wasn’t working and I had time at home, I would probably be doing what I’m doing now. I’m writing, watching a lot of movies and just taking advantage of this time to chill out and get back to being present, something that is more and more difficult in our lives. I’m finding that my motivation is all over the place. Once I get to about 3 o’clock, I’m done for the day because it’s hard for me to get my focus back. So, I try to do all the important bits in the morning. Once in a while, I’ll go out for a run in the very early morning because I know nobody is around here in New York, and I was able to grab a couple of really cool stills of Times Square empty. It’s just weird, but anything to make a day go by. (Laughs.) This is where we’re at.

So, as I said to Jamie, I felt like I was invading the characters’ privacy while watching Endings, Beginnings. Did you feel that level of intimacy as a performer?

Yeah, man, it was extremely intimate right from the beginning. I was familiar with Drake’s work so I kinda had an idea going into it, but I didn’t really know what the process was going to be like. It really just started with this one-on-one meeting that Drake and I had really early on; we ended up talking for three hours about everything, basically. I don’t think either of us are small-talk guys anymore, so that felt very natural. I loved how honest he was about life experience, relationships and the curiosity of it all. So, we really hit it off. When I met him, I think I was trying to sway him to think of me as Jack, Jamie’s character. Personally, I felt a little closer to that character, but when we made the movie, Drake made me believe I was wrong. (Laughs.) We had an outline of what the movie was trying for, but the specificity of the performances, the relationship dynamics and the chemistry really made it feel like we were discovering it in the present moment on the day. There wasn’t a lot of rehearsal. Shailene came in late in the movie, and we probably had about two weeks where we were kind of rehearsing and just getting to know each other a little bit. The rest was a day-to-day, on-set trial and error in order to see what would light people up.

Since you had just come off a string of massive Marvel movies, was it nice to get back to basics with a film like this, so to speak?

Well, yeah, it’s just different. Particularly in the last two years for me, I’ve been so much more aware of directors like never before. I’ve desperately wanted to work with very specific directors — Drake being one of them. Then, when you go on that set with a specific director you’ve wanted to work with, they have a very specific vision, and I just immediately know that I’m going into somebody’s very specific vision. On the bigger movies, for example, I had a relationship with the Russos over three movies, and I knew the way they were working. Every time, I sort of felt like we were picking it back up again, but just in terms of format, structure and overall scope, I knew they were making a very different movie each time. On these little movies, sometimes, the director can take these very specific points of views, and you’re just in the hands of that. That’s what makes the experience different because it’s that director’s vision, and it’s very oriented to that particular person. That’s how I felt with Drake, and that’s how I imagine other specific directors are. I recently worked with Antonio Campos [on The Devil All the Time], who’s another director whose movies I love, and I’ve always wanted to work with him. Again, he has a very specific approach, vision and how he wants the thing to look and feel. You kind of just surrender to that.

When your character, Frank, first meets Shailene’s character, Daphne, at the New Year’s Eve party, they jokingly put distance between one another. Since many of us are now watching entertainment through our present-day lens, have you realized how ahead of the curve you were in this case?

(Laughs.) I didn’t even think about that; you’re right. It’s interesting to think because we don’t know, really, what the ramifications of this social distancing will be. We may still feel the effects of it well into the next couple years. It’s going to be a while before we get life back to “normal,” but will it ever really go back to normal? That’s the stuff that remains to be seen. I can definitely see a world where people are much more conscious about personal space, perhaps. I don’t know. Shailene and I were talking in another interview the other day, and I was like, “Listen, I know you’re a hugger — and so am I — but do you think people are going to want to be hugged by us after this?” I don’t know.

At least we can now opt not to shake hands without offending anyone.

Well, apparently, no one liked that. I was not aware that that was not a fun thing to do. Yeah, that might be gone at this point.

I got a kick out of Frank’s The Pianist reference. Did you name a different movie for each improvised take?

(Laughs.) No, that was the only time I referenced a movie. Every time it was different. One of the things that I learned with Drake really early on was to never try and do something that worked, again. That reference worked; I didn’t know he was gonna use it. Doing it again — even remotely getting close to it — goes against his way of working. You’re just recreating a moment, and he wants everything to be very fresh and in the moment. I have a friend who always picks on me for watching heavy, intense, dramatic movies by myself at home on the weekends. He just makes fun of me all the time. So, the reference came from that. I love all movies, but I just love watching the heavier dramatic movies. (Laughs.) So, it came from remembering that in the moment and just saying it. It was odd enough, but it made it.

I asked Jamie this question, but I’d like to get your take as well. How do you ensure that you’re improvising as the character and not as Sebastian?

That’s the problem. I don’t know. Even though we’re improvising as honestly as possible, we’re still kind of doing it with a direction from the outline. I think that is what gives it an element that’s still affected rather than me just going up there and saying how I feel. And then, in the editing room, which is what makes Drake brilliant at this, he finds the moments; the way he cuts is just fascinating to me. I remember saying to him, “Drake, no take is the same. I don’t know how you’re going to cut this. It’s impossible.” And yet, he made it work. He found the conversation, and he found the moments. He’s got a very specific way of cutting that I love which is the reactions and so on. He really filtered those performances in the editing room as well. There was a lot of back-and-forth dialogue between me and Shailene that never made it, but again, it’s about him picking what he feels is right for who each character is.

Did you have any history with improvisation before this experience?

No, not at all.

Were you intimidated by it?

I definitely was. Absolutely, I was. I didn’t have an audition for the movie, but I had that three-hour session with Drake where we talked about different things and topics. I think he was just curious to see how honest our conversation could go, and I just wasn’t afraid of that. It was very scary at the beginning. It’s that question you asked, where you go, “Well, this isn't really who I am. I don’t do these things that this character does.” I’ve always felt protected by scripts, lines and scenes. I feel like I’m one of those people who’s opened up much more by scripts. I’m not as witty on my own. This was one of those different experiences, and I would certainly do it again. I’d be curious to see if I could ever use parts of it in a bigger movie. Believe it or not, on those bigger projects, you do use improv. You do the scenes a couple times. You get it as it’s written on paper, and then you say, “Let’s just do this one more time and try it out this way. Let’s just see what happens and then we have it.” Sometimes, that ends up in the movie because it’s weirdly a sort of wildcard. So, maybe this was a really training experience for that.

Shifting gears to some obligatory Marvel questions… Did you shoot The Falcon and the Winter Soldier like a TV show or movie?

It felt like both. In a lot of ways, it felt like a movie. Again, we’re not finished; we still have some stuff to do. What I loved about it was that, tonally, it was very much in the same world that Captain America: The Winter Soldier was, which was one of my favorite experiences that I’ve ever had, period. So, in a sense, it was grounded and very much in the world as we know it. But, it’s also really jam-packed with a lot of massive, massive action scenes mixed with deep focus on character. That’s what’s really exciting about this. We’re getting to keep it in the world of the movies, so it’s recognizable that way, but at the same time, these characters are getting so much more mileage for all of us to explore them. We can put them in situations that we’ve never been able to put them in before because you now have six hours as opposed to two. It’s always a discovery.

Prior to the shutdown, is it true that you were only a week away from wrapping?

No, we were probably at least two or three, but don’t quote me on that.

At the end of Avengers: Endgame, between the dialogue and your performance, it seemed pretty cut and dried that Bucky knew about Steve’s plan to remain in the past with Peggy (Hayley Atwell). Were you surprised that some people didn’t entirely pick up on that?

I don’t know if I was surprised. The Internet completely misconstrued something else and made it entirely into something that it wasn’t, but later, I sort of became aware that people really felt like we needed to have more between the two of them or something. But, it hadn’t occurred to me because at the same time, that scene was saying so much with subtext. That being said, how do you put it all together in a three-hour movie? To merge all those different stories together, you could’ve had another movie of everybody saying goodbye to each other. So, I love how much people care about those two characters and that they wanted more from them, but I just took it as “This is as much screen time as we’ve got left before the movie ends.” It was already such a long movie. And then, it’s just the knowledge that these guys have always known each other’s moves, so to speak. They knew each other so well that they could say, “Okay, I know what he’s going to do, what decisions he’s going to make and I support that.” Yeah, it’s just what it was. That’s what was on the page, and that’s what we shot.

Bucky hugged Steve and said he was gonna miss him. To me, it’s crystal clear that you played it as knowing Steve’s intent.

Oh, a thousand percent, yeah. I played it as goodbye. What I was playing was, “Okay, I know he’s going, and he’s not going to come back. I can’t talk about it, because if I do, then they’re going to try and stop him from doing what he wants to do. So, I’ve gotta support that.” That’s what I was playing in the scene. Suddenly, when he shows back up again, I’m playing it like, “Oh! Well, he didn’t tell me he was gonna do that. I knew he was gonna leave, and even though I knew what he was going to do with the shield, I didn't know he was gonna pop up over there now and be older.” So, I was playing that. Look, I love a good scene with dialogue, but sometimes, I find it really interesting when there’s not a lot said. And funnily enough, it’s sort of been the trademark of Bucky. Then, you’re watching behavior, you’re watching the eyes and you’re wondering what they’re thinking. You’re more involved and tuned in. So, it’s always fun for me to try to do as much as I can without dialogue. It’s exciting as an actor because then I wonder what people are getting out of it. In that aspect, it’s fun.

Some people still lament the fact that Steve didn’t give Bucky the shield in order to take on the mantle of Captain America. Bucky may have been brainwashed, but Captain America is such a symbolic position that you can’t just write off fifty years of transgressions by The Winter Soldier. I also have a hard time imagining that Bucky would even want that role. Since you know Bucky best, what’s your impression of Steve’s choice?

The MCU — as I saw it from my humble perspective — is a bit different in that regard to the comics. Where we arrived with him at the end felt more like he was in a place with a desire for some sort of release: to start over, start life again in a way, find out who he is again on his own and leave all this behind. Yes, it all happened, but at some point, you gotta own your mistakes, what happened and try to start over. That’s where I felt like the character was at the end of Avengers: Endgame. It’s also what he wanted for Steve. Like anybody that ends up traumatized by a war experience, he was affected by it for the rest of his life. So, what felt like a desire there was for a restart — for him and for Steve in a way. It didn’t necessarily feel like the shield was gonna be that. Steve going back in time and saying, “I’m gonna take something for me now. I’ve been here for all these guys, and I’ve done the best I could. I’m just a man, and I’m going to go back and try to live my life.” I feel that is something that Bucky would want for his best friend, and at the same time, Steve is saying to Bucky, “You’re going to go and do that, too. I’m not going to put this thing on you. We’re both going to live our lives — the lives that were actually taken from us back in the ‘40s when we enlisted.” So, that’s where I felt they were at the end of the movie. I don’t think there’s a desire or any conflicted thoughts about taking on that mantle. Sam, to me, was always the clear man to take on that mantle for numerous reasons, which also comes with so much more baggage that’s going to be explored in the show. I guess you’ll have to tune into Disney+ to find out why. (Laughs.) At the end of Endgame, for either Steve or Bucky, it’s really not about the shield.

I really loved Destroyer, and I thought you were great in it. It continues to blow my mind that Karyn Kusama isn’t able to do whatever she wants. Granted, she just got Universal’s Dracula…

I already emailed her about that. I said, “You know I’m from Romania, right?” and she goes, “Yes, yes, it’s very early — and there’s a pandemic. Hopefully, we’ll see you in four years.” (Laughs.)

What comes to mind when you reflect on that experience and working with Karyn?

Thank you for mentioning that movie. I love that movie, I love her and I had such a great time on it. I would love to keep finding projects with her — projects that kind of push you in a different direction. Again, this goes back to your earlier questions about these smaller movies, and I was referencing the vision of a director, how important that is and sometimes surrendering to that. That’s what that movie was for me. Karyn saw this character and movie in a certain way, and it was my job to learn that world, the tone and fit into it. I loved her as a director because she was so specific with me from the get-go. She also really allowed me to discover it on my own. We talked about the tattoos, the look, his history… It was very collaborative before we started, and then, when we started, it was actually very specific. She was one of those directors that made me feel so safe and confident in my choices, simply by the way she communicated with me. I think that came from her absolute confidence in what she wanted and what she saw. I really wish more people had seen that movie. Maybe they have by now; I don’t know. And obviously — Nicole Kidman. It was one of those dreams to work opposite her. It was a good package.

***

Endings, Beginnings is now available on digital HD and VOD on May 1.

#sebastian stan #sebstannews #long post #interviews

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huntertales · 4 years ago

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Part Two: Angel of Mercy. (Heaven Can’t Wait S09E06)

Episode Summary: When Dean gets a call from Castiel about a possible case dealing with spontaneous human combustion, the older Winchester decides to investigate–on his own. The reader decides to tag along. She doesn’t take no for an answer when Dean shares his odd hesitations on letting her work on a hunt with Castiel. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 3,514.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

You suppose the different ways Cas could have ended up after going his own way might have been worse than where he was today. The angel-turned-human was blending into society without much trouble. Sure, he was a little awkward. Didn’t get most things like etiquette and social norms. You hoped he picked up enough knowledge from the few years he spent among humans. So far from what you could tell, he was doing okay. It made you breathe a little easier in some kind of reassurance that he was able to do things on his own without any help from you and the boys. Much as you wanted to lend a hand on this journey to make sure he was all right.

In some way you understood a little too well the vulnerability of learning how to live on your own. You struggled to find your own footing after your mother passed away. John was unreliable in any way. He took the boys and went on his way after making sure the legal aspects of you living on your own were cleared. Occasionally he checked on you to make sure you were still alive. He taught you some tricks on how to protect yourself from monsters. But he never taught you anything useful in life. Basic skills on how to be an adult. Your mother might have planned out your life for when you turned eighteen, thinking she had a few years to help teach you to live without her. Things never worked out that way. A demon threw a wrench in her plan and screwed everything up.

Angels, demons. Whatever kind of creature it was, they always somehow managed to screw everything to hell. While the circumstances were vastly different compared to the situation Cas was dealing with, it all boiled down to the same thing. The lifestyle you relied on, the normality that you didn't realize you depended so much on, vanished. You had to deal with the loneliness and responsibilities of being an adult. You were forced to grow up quickly and learn how to be an adult, Cas had to learn how to be...human. Learn the things that were second nature to you. The proper importance of daily hygiene and when to eat—and what to properly eat. Things he never had to worry about before.

Somehow Cas learned enough to have made it this far without his fellow siblings sniffing out where he was. He found his footing and blended with society. He was just another average human working a day job. From what you were able to observe from the distance it seemed like Cas was just another average working waiting on people. Maybe a little more on the stranger side. No matter what, Cas had a slightly awkward charm to him. He was doing all right. But you weren't satisfied with a distance observation.

Cas was behind the counter tending to a customer with a little too much enthusiasm for a retail worker. The woman was a little weirded out from the thumbs up he gave after handing over her lotto ticket. She forced a smile of her own before being on her way, letting the next customer in line step up. Which turned out to be two familiar faces the angel didn't expect to see. You offered the guy a smile from the look of shock that crossed his face. Dean wasted no time making things awkward when he pretended to be another paying customer.

"I'll have some beef jerky and a pack of menthols." Dean said.

“What are you two doing here?” Cas asked in a quiet tone of his voice. His body language drastically changed from the customer he tended to before. All of his friendliness seemed to have vanished for his friends who drove all the way here for him.

"Gee, it's nice to see you, too, Cas." You replied to the angel's rather frigid and distant greeting with a bit of hurt in your voice.

"It's Steve now." The angel corrected you. You furrowed your brow slightly when he gestured to his nametag pinned to his hideous blue vest he wore. You forced yourself to bite back a laugh from the reality of the situation. Heaven's most fierce and loyal soldier was now working at a gas station. "And...you both surprised me."

"Well, the feeling is mutual." Dean agreed with the angel. He offered little support for the struggle Cas had to go through in order to keep himself safe. He found all of this comical as yourself, but he didn't have the restraint to keep his feelings well hidden. The sight of his friend working in retail was all too amusing not to pass up the chance to poke fun at the situation. "I mean, I knew you had to lay low from the angel threat, but, uh, wow! This is some cover."

Cas didn't find the way you and Dean were handling what he had been doing very helpful. He moved a few steps down the counter so the three of you could continue this conversation away from any lingering ears. "My grace is gone. What did you expect?" Cas asked. "Do you have any idea how hard it was? When I fell to earth, I didn't just lose my powers. I had nothing. Now...I'm a sales associate." The angel tried to see the silver lining of things at what he was able to accomplish on his own. You and Dean weren't as enthusiastic as him for the way he was living his life compared to the way it could be.

A delivery driver briefly interrupted your conversation so he could get Cas to sign off on some products. "I'm responsible for inventory, sales, customer service." Cas scribbled down the fake name he'd been going by and thanked the driver before continuing on of all the things he deemed important. You never liked to stick your nose up at the hard work people do for whatever job they might do, but seeing this was...pathetic. “I keep this place clean and presentable. And when my manager’s busy, I even prepare the food.

"Wow." Dean didn't even try to hide his opinion on what he thought of this whole thing. "So you went from fighting heavenly battles to nuking taquitos?"

Cas must still be learning how to read between the lines of what people say to the tone of their voice. He didn’t understand that Dean wasn’t being supportive from the way he spoke his words. The angel still smiled, like he was proud of himself. “Nachos too.”

You and Dean silently agreed this whole arrangement was not working out. But the angel refused to see things from your perspective. He thought what he was doing was perfect. It might be for any fellow normal human. Not for an angel like him who had done so much. He couldn’t waste out the rest of his days working nine to five and waiting on people. You wanted him back on the road with you and the boys. Trying to get his grace back and fix his home that was up in heaven. Cas continued on working, refusing to keep entertaining this conversation standing idly while he got paid.

“This is not you, man. You are above this.” Dean tried to talk some sense into the angel while he stepped out from the stockroom carrying a box full of products. “Come on.”

“No, Dean. I’m not.” Cas said. He set the box down on a shelf and gave you the real reason why he refused to budge on his new life. The simplicity of it all was comforting to him. “I failed at being an angel. Everything I ever attempted came out wrong. But here, at least I have a shot at getting things right. I guess you can’t see it, but there’s a real dignity in what I do—a human dignity.”

“Hate to interrupt you guys, but, Steve?” You looked over your shoulder when you heard a female voice jump into the conversation. A woman stood with a mop and bucket at her side, from the familiar vest she wore it was clear she was one of Cas’ coworkers. “Customer had an accident in the men’s room.”

“I’m on it.” Cas said.

“Oh, and tonight—seven at my place work for you?” She asked a vague question that made you wonder what they were talking about. Cas nodded his head, and the way his lips stretched into a smile helped connect the dots. She returned the smile with one of her own. "You're the best."

You picked up enough social cues to realize what was going on. Dean had a feeling himself of what was brewing between Cas and his coworker. “That’s what this is about!” You softly nudged the angel in the arm and smiled at him. Cas responded with absolute confusion at what you were hinting around. “Come on. The girl.”

“No, Y/N. It’s not.” Cas said. You rolled your eyes and raised your brow from what he was trying to deny. Either that, or he was too naive to understand what his friend was hinting around. Cas was even more clueless when it came to things as romance. Poor fella nearly got himself killed after being led to bed by a pretty face. "Nora—she's a very nice woman, I'm pretty sure she's not a reaper intent on killing me, and she's asked me out. That’s something humans do, right?”

“Yeah. I mean, my dates used to end when I ran out of singles. And I can’t tell you the last time Y/N and I went on one.” Dean said. Your love life as hunters meant your chances of dating were rare to almost none. The world ending and angels falling out of the sky put a damper on your relationship at times. But for someone like Cas, who was trying to live like the average person, they were. Dean had to agree with him on that. “Yeah, that’s something that humans do.”

Your conversation was briefly stopped at the sound of Dean's phone going off. He stepped away to take it when he recognized the number from the sheriff you spoke to at the first crime scene. It allowed Cas to tend back to his job to work on stocking the shelf

“There was another kill—over at the high school.” Dean informed the both of you. “You comin’, Cas?”

“I wouldn’t be much use.” Cas mumbled. “I don’t have my powers.”

“So? I’ve had powers and not once did they help me with hunting.” You said. “Dean’s never had powers and he manages to do just fine.”

“Both of you are hunters.” Cas said.

“And you’re a hunter in training, remember?” You reminded the angel.

“Yeah.” The angel replied with the least enthusiastic tone he could muster up. You didn’t understand why he wasn’t willing to get back into the game. “Dean said I sucked.”

You huffed out a breath from Dean's abrasiveness and turned your gaze over to the man. Your hardening expression made him suddenly regret his words spoken in the past. "I didn't say that." Dean tried to back himself out of the corner he put himself in. But he struggled to do so when you crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for his response. "I said that there was, uh, uh...you know, 'room for improvement.'"

“Come on, Cas.” You said. “For old time’s sake.”

Cas let out a sigh of defeat, deciding to agree with the plan after all. “All right, my shift’s over in five minutes, and my date’s not until later, so…”

“Attaboy!” You cheered, lightly slapping a hand on his shoulder from seeing him hunting again. “Dean, go make yourself useful and get the car.”

“Not just yet.” Cas stopped the man from heading out the door. You and Dean gave the angel a confused response from the interruption. It seemed you forgot Cas was still on the clock. “I have to clean the bathroom.”

“Have fun.” You said. You tried to hide the grimacing expression that wanted to cross your face at the idea of what he had to do. While Cas made his way over to the mop, you called out some friendly advice. “Make sure to wash your hands afterwards.”

+ + +

The three of you arrived at the crime scene a short time after Cas finished up work. You and Dean flashed your badges to the officer keeping an eye on the scene after you ducked under the police tape guarded off the crime scene. A crowd of high schoolers gathered around to figure out what was going on. Cas trailed behind the both of you, still wearing his vest after you told him to take it off. Thankfully nobody said anything. The angel went off to explore the scene while you and Dean headed over to the sheriff who was speaking to a teenager who looked to be distraught at what she witnessed. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest and cheeks stained with tears as she retold the story of what happened to the sheriff.

“One second we’re talking, and the next, she just...stops.” The girl explained the situation that led to all of you here. “And then everyone in the cafeteria freaks, rushing and pointing out the window, at—” She couldn’t finish her sentence from the sob that escaped her from the grief she was feeling. Your expression softened as she placed a hand to her mouth to keep the noise from escaping. “Could—Could that really be her?”

The school bus that was helping block out the crowd of students was also covered in the same bubblegum pink shade you saw at the previous crime scene. Unfortunately what killed the four previous victims striked again.

“And nobody saw anybody else at the crime scene—a man, woman, anything unusual?” You asked her, hoping she might give you some kind of lead into figuring out what might be to blame for this. The girl responded by shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. Your next question you approached in a softer tone. “Your friend, was she possibly depressed?”

“Depressed?” She repeated your question, not sure what you meant.

“Any thought of suicide?” You explained a bit more bluntly.

“Ew. No.” The girl responded in the most teenage way possible when her expression scrunched up at such a thought. “I mean, she was kind of bummed that dick-bag Travis broke up with her in front of the whole school.” Dean gave her a curious expression at what she meant by kinda bummed. “Like more bummed than when she got a ‘C’ on a quiz, and less bummed when her parents split up. Kinda...bummed.”

The girl's tone of voice shifted into anger at the strange questions you were asking her. You figured you weren't going to get much else out of her from what she told you. You felt a slight nudge to your arm from Dean to get your attention. He nodded his head for you to follow him after discovering Cas was nowhere to be seen. You looked around yourself, but the angel disappeared. You excused yourself with a small smile before heading with Dean to find where your friend wandered off to.

Cas made his way back to the Impala after scoping out the crime scene himself. It seemed whatever happened caused some sort of distress in him. You started to grow concerned when you found him with both hands on the hood, his body hunched forward and head hanging low.

"Cas, what's wrong?" You asked the angel, your tone growing with concern.

“I’ve seen this before.” Cas said. You and Dean exchanged a glance at one another from the sort of twist you weren’t expecting. It prompted you to ask him where, leading to a creature you would have never suspected. “In heaven.”

"What?" You tried to hide your frustration from the mention of his siblings possibly to blame. But it didn't come much as a surprise to you. All sorts of angel activity had been sprouting up all over the country since the fall. "Are you saying an angel did this?"

“It’s no ordinary angel.” Cas mumbled. He fell silent for a moment, at the overwhelming energy around him. The angel might have been stripped of his powers that rendered him vulnerable as a human, but he could still feel the presence of his fellow brother. "Dean, Y/N. This is bad. This is very bad.”

You quickly moved the conversation elsewhere when the topic turned into something you didn't want a civilian or a cop to overhear. The three of you got into the Impala to further discuss what Cas discovered. And what this might mean for the rest of this town.

“On the battlefields of heaven, there was a special class of angels, the rit zien. It's enochian for 'hands of mercy.'" Cas explained to you and Dean about the history of his fellow siblings. The one who were to blame for these murders. "They function like medics. They tended to the wounded. They healed those who could be healed, but for the mortally wounded, those who were past saving, the rit zien's job was to put them down."

“But the granulated bodies?” Dean asked.

“This was their special ability.” Cas went on to tell you more. “They had this way of smiting that was so quick and so total that it rendered death virtually painless.”

“Yeah, but these aren't wounded angels that they’re vaporizing,” You noted the key difference between the angels’ victims and who they were trained to take down. “they’re pepole.”

“Right. I don’t know. The rit zien home in one pain, like it’s a beacon to them. So, when this angel fell to earth, he heard the victims’ cries, their anguish,” Cas started to piece together the reason why all these people were targeted. Pain was pain to this angel. They weren’t able to tell the difference. “Same as he’d hear an angel’s in heaven. He’s continuing his heavenly work down here. One suffering human at a time.”

“Yeah, but this last victim was not suffering.” You said. The highs and lows of being a hormonal teenager with their fluctuating emotions was something you and Dean were no stranger to. Both of you had been the victim’s age what felt like many years ago. You knew there was no correlation to the depressed and suicidal victims he killed before. “She was just a normal, moody kid.”

“But he just got here. The ebb and flow of human emotion—guys, I’ve been on earth for a few years, and I’ve only begun to grasp it.” Cas said. He put things into perspective at what this might mean. You slowly began to realize that everyone in this town was at risk. “To him, pain is pain.”

“So everybody’s fair game?” Dean took a wild guess at what the angel was hinting at, Cas nodded his head. The older Winchester let out a scoff as he rolled his eyes from the furthered complications about this case. "All right, well, we got to stop him."

“You and Y/N have to stop him.” Cas corrected the man.

You furrowed your brow slightly from the angel's response. You leaned over in your seat to catch a glimpse of his face when he turned his head to look forward. A familiar expression you'd seen before crossed his features. "You're scared."

“It’s different now, Y/N.” Cas admitted to you. “Everything feels different.”

“You’re right.” Dean thought to himself for a few seconds before agreeing with the angel. Cas was doing fine on his own, he needed to worry about the safety of yourself with the other angel hitching around in your body. It was how things needed to be for now. “All right, Y/N and I’ll track down this kevorkian wannabe, and we’ll put him down.”

“Okay.” The angel mumbled.

“Stay safe, please. I don’t want to worry about you every second of the day.” You told the angel. You flashed him a farewell smile, thinking this was where your paths together ended. “Go on that date, all right? You deserve some happiness for once. Hell, live a normal life if that’s what you really want.”

“Okay.” He repeated his response again. You gave him a funny look from how he was acting. Dean turned on the engine and looked over to the angel. A few seconds passed and Cas continued to sit in the passenger side, causing Dean to wonder if he was going to go his own way. “I need a ride.”

You had to stifle a chuckle from the favor he was asking of you. Cas managed to find a job on his own and was adapting slowly to human life, but it seemed there were still some things he needed working on. Getting there might be a slow and steady process, yet you had a feeling Cas would be just fine on his own.

[Next Part]

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fizzingwizard · 4 years ago

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Episode 28~ Well, I heard this season’s supposedly got 60 episodes total (don’t quote me, that may be wrong) so we’re almost at the halfway point... I’m gonna wait till episode 30 to talk about that though.

This episode I actually rather liked, even though absolutely NOTHING happens other than the important things at the very beginning and the very end. That’s becoming a pattern this season - lots of nothing sandwiched in between hints of big dramatic things to come. Eh. But yeah, I liked it anyway :P for a few reasons that are probably not that objective. It’s not the kind of episode that’s gonna make you want to rewatch though.

Cap of the week!

Look we all know Jou is exactly the kind of 12 year old who folds his clothes neatly even when lost in a mysterious parallel world. Also he brought more textbooks (social studies and Japanese). Aka more ammo for Mimi

More below:

Last week we ended with Patamon evolving to Angemon in what was a pretty anticlimactic moment, despite a big villain being there and a cliffhanger ending. Seemed like a waste after all we went through just to get him.

However, I do think the beginning of episode 28 makes up for it somewhat. Angemon gets to show off how Very Very Cool he is, but it’s also made clear that he’s not up to full strength. Seeing him throw all his effort into the battle to save them even though it’s clear he won’t win was actually pretty great.

More typhoon winds throwing everyone back XD they must have so many bruises

Poor Takeru gets thrown back all by his lonesome

So last episode, I said I thought Darknightmon was gonna go for Hikari and was surprised and somewhat relieved when he stayed interested in Takeru/Angemon. Um... I guess that was a red herring x’D he’s after Hikari after all.

He literally says “I have no use for you” to Angemon LOL sick burn my dude

Hikari: “There is a new cutest child.”

Takeru: “Um, actually the phrase is ‘smallest child’.“

Hikari: “No. Cutest child. Do not interrupt my moment, impertinent one.”

Grogu: “Did someone say ‘cutest child’?”

Angemon’s peeved that Hikari stole the spotlight so he immediately jumps into the way and prevents Darknightmon from grabbing her.

Angemon: “No one treats ME like some washed up has-been!”

But as hard as he tries, Angemon just hasn’t recovered enough. It probably took all the energy Patamon had stored up just to evolve. His wings lengthen and release into millions of shining feathers, and both he and Darknightmon de-evolve.

I really did kind of enjoy this battle! Seeing Takeru be all strong and heroic, and the desperation with which Angemon tries to protect him... me likey.

Next it’s a nod to 99 series! D-D-Digimon!

Yamato screams like he’s at the dentist’s.

There’s lots of freaky black lightning that rains down seeming to give dark energy and empower random Digimon who get hit by it. Just to ensure our heroes don’t get to waste time on any more “breaks”

A single feather floats down where Taichi lands and dissolves. I am not sure what happened to it, if it did anything or if it was what protected them until this point...

Taichi and Hikari wake up and discover they are alone. So last week I thought they’d get swept off into pairs... I didn’t even consider that they’d each wind up alone. Mixed feelings! On the one hand, seeing each kid interact with their partner and their partner only was one of the good things about this episode (except it wasn’t always true, which I’ll get to in a minute). On the other hand, my fears last week were that whoever ended up with Taichi would be overshadowed by him. Turns out, if no one’s with him but Hikari, that means all the plot stuff is with them and the others have nothing in particular to do. -_-; At least not this week. My hope is that it’s coming (and there were a few promising hints this episode so), but next week’s trailer looks pretty Taichi-centric too..

Taichi: “Can I help it if I’m so charming cool awesome and dare I say it adorable”

The impact of everyone being “alone” is cut short by the fact that they can all still communicate via digivice. I would be fine with that, except for what I said earlier - they wind up spending too much time talking to each other instead of their partners. Particularly the ones who like to Plan Things. Eh.

Yamato tells Taichi to protect Hikari, doesn’t even mention that he’s sadly separated from Takeru at this point ;_; He knows Takeru’s okay though because Takeru is also communicating by digivice.

Sora: “Hello yes, it’s in my contract that I get to be awesome X number of times per episode, and I have doubts that you are making your quota.”

I love how Tentomon’s job is basically Koushirou’s secretary x’D “Put my calls on speakerphone Margaret” “Yes Mr Izumi”

The partners really are suited to each other... Koushirou gets a secretary, Jou gets a mom, Mimi gets a gal pal, Yamato gets a therapist, Sora gets a sister, Taichi gets a... preschool child who eats paste... -.-’

takeru and hikari don’t count because they’re Special and their main attribute is Cute

All the kids have ended up alone except for super-charged monsters who want to eat them. Palmon hoists Mimi up a very sheer rock trying to escape Golemon who is not great at climbing but doesn’t seem to know that

Meanwhile Jou... is like “Ohh yeah, you guys have it so rough, I’m trying my hardest too, keep fighting the good fight y’all”

He’s relaxing in the hot springs and freaking studying.

Gomamon’s unusually fine with it though. Because he gets to swim. He says “Let’s invite the others here.” They’re both like YEAH THIS IS WHAT I CALL A VACATION

It’s all fun and games until the hairy guy with the tattoos and veiny arms sharing your hot spring starts staring at your ding-a-ling. Uhhhhhhh.

he does make the “Nanimono?” joke so all is well lol

No matter what form he takes, Patamon is always an Angel 👼

Takeru is alone but he has Patamon... but Patamon is...

... ADORABLE... and conked out. Takeru’s so proud of him though, look at that smile *sniff*

Taichi remembers to ask Koushirou how conditions are back at home. This kid is too organized.

Koushirou: “News and variety shows continue as normal even though the world’s ending.”

I’m not going to get into everything he says but it’s pretty much more of the same regarding the power influx from the human world to the digital world and the way the Zurumon’s attacks are wreaking havoc with electronics...

Taichi almost says “You’re so sugoi!” Almost. He’s grateful anyway. *chews on those Taishiro breadcrumbs till they’re broken down to atoms*

Then... Hikari’s acting strange!

Agumon: “What are you looking at?”

Hikari: “I don’t know.”

Taichi: “You don’t know but you’re looking at it?”

Hikari: “It kind of looks like Steve Buscemi... it’s hard to tell”

Taichi’s not too wigged out by freaky Hikari because he’s lived with her all his life, and she’s always been a freak.

Baby Hikari: “Shteeve... bushemiii....”

Agumon: “Your sister’s weird.”

Taichi: “Yeah but she’s MY weird sister.”

Yamato is fighting, of course. He stops for a moment to be impressed by how well Takeru’s handling himself. Garurumon points it out. I suppose it’s simply time to accept that this season Yamato is just not the disaster boy he was in 99 x’D

Now have some gratuitous adorable Patabutt images.

Patabutt patabutt pata pata butt butt

Um... is it just me or is Patamon kinda... oversized all of a sudden lol...

Takeru: “Did you eat all of my candy stash again?”

Patamon: “I just can’t seem to quit”

Takeru: “That’s it we’re getting you into rehab”

Patamon tries to fly but just can’t ;____; poor baby is totally wiped out. Takeru takes a long time to catch on to that. I REALLY HOPE THIS GOES SOMEWHERE, like Takeru has to protect Patamon instead of the reverse etc... pleeeeease don’t just leave this where it is writers!! The potential for cute is endlessssss

On the matter of Things That Are Not Cute... -.-;

Jou: “Please stop looking at my junk”

Nanimon: “Stop looking at mine”

Jou: “YOU DONT HAVE ANY wait do you wAIT I DONT WANT TO LOOK”

Mimi is much more useful! She discovers a shiny rock!

Theory!

This rock... could be the raw material for their Crests!!! Squeee~!! I mean, it’s about time something about that came up, assuming it’s still a thing. (Since they already seem to have their Crests loaded in their Digivices and got to Perfect level without any talk of values and personal strengths, I don’t know how much of the old Crest legacy remains in this season.) I, uh, did the same thing in my fanfic so I guess I’m just biased... These could totally be Evil Rubies Of Darkness and Terror but I’d rather have Crests :p Of course I would have expected Mimi to find green stones in that case sooo... maybe not.

Anyway she and Palmon are suitably distracted from running from Golemon and go mining instead. I’m sure that will not cause any problems.

We swing back to Taichi and Hikari, who are being approached by a big scary monster...

Taichi: “Watch my Tarzan impression.”

Hikari: “Nooo! I don’t want to be Jane!”

Fortunately Agumon evolves just to catch them in midair x’D Now is not the time for impressions, Taichi, seriously.

They are attacked by Volcdramon, which is a dumbass name.

Voldramon: “I AM VOLCRADMON, THE VOLCANO DIGIMON”

Taichi: “Velcromon the Velcro Digimon?”

Voldramon: “what NO i am Volcdramon-”

Hikari: “Voltronmon? Voldemortmon?”

Voldramon: *sniveling* “why does this happen EVERY time i JUST want to be one of the cool guys youre all such BULLIES”

MetalGreymon and Volcdramon face off, but something’s not right! Much like... the Digimon in the last episode whose name I already forgot *cough*, Volcdramon seems able to absorb other Digimon’s power. This presents a problem because last time it took all of them shooting into its mouth together to overload it so they could win. MetalGreymon is having a hard time on his own as Volcdramon just absorbs all his attacks.

Hikari prays to Jesus to save them. Digimon is approved for Christian families 👼👼👼

ugggghhh I love them

Taichi promises Hikari everything will be okay. His back-and-forth with MetalGreymon here is kind of cool. Every time MetalGreymon takes a hit, Taichi’s encouragement and coaching?? I guess keeps frustration at bay.

Buuut eventually they’re both feeling pretty desperate :P It was hard for me to take this battle seriously since, after all we’ve seen MetalGreymon capable of, it seems weird that he should be struggling this much. But obviously they don’t just want to make him invincible. And this problem makes sense: the ability of Digimon to absorb attacks and turn them into energy is definitely a new problem.

The question is, how do we solve it?

Apparently it helps if you have a little sister who’s some kind of super battery.

Taichi: “Nothing shocks me anymore with Hikari. She could announce she’s been Beyonce this whole time and I would believe it”

WarGreymon appears (again) as his goldeny vision self, defeats Volcdramon, then promptly de-evolves back to Agumon.

So the question is, why is this happening... From earlier episodes we know Agumon & co are some group of legendary warriors who have had their memories tampered with (??) to some extent (because they do still know each other, or at least Agumon and Gabumon remember knowing each other). Omegamon’s a given for that of course so I suppose that’s why. Hikari seems to be the key to unlocking the legendary warriors, maybe with Takeru. That’s my guess. Of course, Tailmon’s probably already in the bad guys’ clutches, much like Patamon was. I hope she’s still working for them. I want more double agent fun times. Also ANGST

Hikari: “Thank you, Agumon-” *disappears*

Taichi: “GEEZ I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t even breathe without something bad happening anymore, like excuse me for BLINKING”

Yeah so... Skullknightmon appears and abducts Hikari like it’s nothing xD

Skullknightmon: “What’s under arm number two? Iiiiit’s your sister!”

Taichi: “Aw damn, I wanted the sports car”

Taichi quickly gives chase. I assume Agumon’s pretty exhausted after that and probably can’t evolve now. Bad timing. Oooor maybe this is all how Skullknightmon planned it...

Then... the unthinkable! Hikari looks at her brother rushing desperately to save her... and turns away!

Taichi is SHOCKED! Le GASP!

Taichi: “But but but I’m the MAIN CHARACTER”

Hikari: “Not anymore bitch it’s my show now”

Yeah okay jokes aside! This bit was AWESOME. Like, I’m sure it’s obvious that she can tell the voice that “called” her to the digital world is with Skullnightmon. Or at least, her heart’s telling her she has to go with him in order to meet that person (Tailmon, duh). I’ll be surprised if that’s not what’s going on. But... to so coldly just turn her back on her brother... I mean, maybe she also thinks she’s protecting him... but SHE JUST GOT HERE... holy crap...

To think we spent so long theorizing that Takeru would be the one abducted but no it’s Hikari... In retrospect should have been obvious. She’s 1) a girl and therefore a damsel, and 2) the one who was abducted in 99 xP

But I really like her semi-willingly going off with Skullnightmon. Much better than just screaming as she’s whisked away King Kong-style. In 99 she also got abducted voluntarily (I mean, it was coercion, so... that’s not voluntary, but you know what I mean). So they kept that in this season and I like it.

That’s it for this week’s episode! So the bits that I liked were the individual moments with the kids and their partners, of which we had more than usual but still not nearly enough. Nowhere near. In the end it was still a Taichi episode.

As a Taichi fan... it’s not like I’m ever sad that he gets more focus. But I love ALL the kids and they’re NOT getting development. We do keep getting hints about them but it’s so, so, so slow. To be fair, it’s not like we know THAT much about Taichi either. He gets so much focus because he’s always fighting. This season doesn’t seem concerned with personality and character bits like the 99 one, and I am gonna compare them for that. Because I think that was the heart of the 99 show. Without it, it’s missing something. I keep hoping it’ll come back, we keep getting those hints and special moments here and there, but the plot is such a distraction... if it was like a really good plot maybe I’d care less but...

Next week... as far as I can see, it’s another Taichi episode xP But I do think they’ll do the same as this episode and intersperse Taichi’s battle with what’s going on with the others too. If that’s how they do it, I won’t mind. It might even be better. Fine, Taichi can fight, as long as the others are showing us more about themselves and getting other things done in the meantime. Mimi and Jou both look promising. Takeru too. Sora and Yamato, not sure..

Koushirou better not just sit at his computer the whole time -___-

Le owch.

Taichi: “Look being the main character’s not all it’s cracked up to be. I have three concussions and six broken bones. Also I can’t feel my toes anymore”

hang in there bud im cheering for ya

#digimon adventure 2020 #digimon adventure:#digimon adventure reboot #digi spoilers #digimon #fizz watches digimon 2020

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trillian-anders · 5 years ago

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chicken noodle soup

pairing: chef!bucky x plus!reader

warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff, a little angst. just a dash.

word count: 1779

description: chef!au; bucky makes you chicken noodle soup when you’re sick, and you guys have a talk.

note: i’m extremely sick and this is what i wrote, i needed a little comfort. if you have a request for the next dish, let me know loves.

just a taste masterlist

You watched the corded muscles of his back from your spot on the sofa. His right arm moving up and down, steadily chopping carrots as the garlic and onions sweat in a large pot on the stove. His left arm, something you still didn’t ask him about, mottled skin covered with blooming flowers, a rosary, whisping into a vintage pinup girl that posed on his forearm, hands tangled in her hair as she arched her back against the flowers behind her as if laying in a field of flowers.

His left arm held down the vegetable, knuckles facing the knife as he cut the carrots into thick pieces, practiced fingers running against the blade before he switched hands, left moving not quite as steadily, but still practiced.

You were sure your apartment smelled delicious, if only you could smell it.

He came over even though you’d told him not to. Last night when you’d stumbled in your front door after a very draining workweek. The winter deadline met, first quarter final report submitted and a head pounding and nose clogged you’d collapsed onto your couch with a bottle of NyQuil. Dead to the world.

He’d called worried, you’d been telling him you hadn’t felt well all week. “You need to rest babydoll,” He scolded, you’d rolled your eyes on the phone with him, your heart warming with the concern laced in his voice, toeing your socks off before slipping under the covers. “Stark can go a day or two without you.”

“After this week ends,” You said, “I just have to meet Friday’s deadline and then I’ll rest.” Friday had happened, and everything was done. And you collapsed on your sofa. Resting.

His call came in two hours after you’d fallen asleep, a groggy, “Hi baby.” And he sighed,

“I’m coming over.” You snuggled deeper into the cushions of the sofa you’d spent way too much money on, suddenly appreciating how large and soft it was.

“I’ll be fine,” You croaked, “Really.” But you could already hear his keys in his hand.

The food truck had been doing really well, well enough that Bucky and Sam hired some extra help. A kid named Peter who needed an after school job that would just handle plating and taking money while Sam or Bucky cooked, finally giving them enough time off between them to start seriously looking for commercial space for their restaurant. Something Bucky had been giddy about for weeks.

“I told Sam I needed tomorrow off,” He said, toeing off his boots by the front door. Your sleepy face peering at him from behind the blankets pulled up to your nose. “But I’ll have to work Sunday.” He had a large paper bag he’d set on the counter before padding over to you and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You really didn’t have to come,” Your nose stuffed and red, a pile of discarded tissues next to you on the coffee table and reruns of Survivor playing on TV. He rolled his eyes, picking the snotty mess of tissues up and saying,

“When’s the last time you ate?” You didn’t know. “Here.” A glass of orange juice and a glass of water, “You need liquids.” You sniffled and he ran his fingers best he could through your tangled hair. “Wouldn’t you rather be in bed?”

“I’m comfy here.” You mumbled, eyes half lidded. He nods, brushing his thumb across your cheek,

“Sleep babydoll, I’ll wake you up to eat.”

He’d refilled your water, the small sips for your scratchy throat was a marvel. He’d placed a pack of honey cough drops and a new bottle of NyQuil on the coffee table. There was a multi-pack of tissues sitting still in the plastic beside them. The tv had been turned down to a quiet amble. He was listening to some kind of podcast in the kitchen.

He poured a box of chicken broth into the large pot. A smaller pot next to it cooking egg noodles. A ginger root sat idly beside the stove.

You knew Bucky loved to cook, he loved making you things you’d never tried before, he’d love to experiment with flavors and you were his own personal guinea pig to try new recipes. They were trying to nail down their menu after all. But he would also make the best comfort food that warmed your very soul.

He knew exactly what you needed and when you needed it. And this soup, as stuffy and clogged, as your head pounded and your body ached, you needed this soup.

He stirred, a strand of hair falling into his eyes. It must be late. He’d changed into pajamas. The loose sweats and t-shirt wasn’t what he was wearing when he first arrived. He must have felt your eyes on him, turning to look at you as you pulled your lips into a chapped smile. He laughed softly,

“You look so pathetic.” He joked, pulling a bowl from the cabinet.

“I am.” You whined, rubbing your head against the pillow, comfortably watching him scoop some noodles into the bowl before ladling the broth on top. Chicken, carrots, celery, mushrooms, a bit of grated ginger, the broth was dark from some soy sauce. Red pepper flakes mixed in and garnished with cilantro. “Spicy Asian chicken noodle soup.” The broth hit your nose and you could almost feel your sinuses clear then. “You’ll be able to breathe again by the end of this.” His socked toes meeting yours as he curled up next to you, sitting you up and handing you the bowl. “I know you like spice.”

It was so fucking good. Runny nose be damned. You hadn’t realized how hungry you actually were. A bowl was finished, and then a second. His fingers tracing up and down your spine while you ate.

“If you’re not feeling better by Sunday, you should call out on Monday.” The soup had been packed and stored in your fridge. The noodles separate from the broth. “Stark can afford to go one day without you. You have those sick days for a reason.” You know. You know.

His arm wrapped around your shoulder, pulling you tight into his chest.

“I’m gonna get you sick.” You mumbled into his soft well worn shirt. His fingers massage your scalp, your eyes drooping.

“I’ll be fine,” He pressed his lips to your head, “Don’t worry about me. Sleep sweetheart.”

And you did.

“So next week Steve is coming up from DC for the weekend.” Bucky called from the kitchen, heating up the leftover soup from last night, “If you’re feeling better by then we were going to go out to dinner, he’s been asking about you and Sam and I think it would be good for you to meet him if you can.” Steve. The other part of the trio.

Bucky had told you they were inseparable once, meeting in basic training the three of them becoming quick friends. Their paths crossed a year after, the three of them chosen to be part of a special ops squad that moved mostly undercover. It didn’t need to be said that the story behind his left arm was buried there somewhere. But he wasn’t ready for that yet. And that’s okay.

“If you’d like me to.” Honestly it gave you anxiety. You and Bucky hadn’t really had the talk yet, the two of you not even breaching the conversation having sex after spending the majority of the last month together. There was making out, kissing, and a lot of it. But if he wanted you to meet

Steve it must mean something right?

But there was still this paranoia, this little niggling in your brain that made you feel like the rug was going to be pulled from beneath you. Just like it had before.

How many times had you been really into a guy and when it came to the point, in what you thought was a relationship, to meet his friends or family he was suddenly really shady about it. A guy had literally told you once, “My friends would make fun of me if I dated a fat girl.” That had been a heavy blow.

And you know you’re beautiful, you know you’re smart, and you know that you can survive on your own. But you didn’t want to anymore. You wanted to start working towards a partner, possibly getting married, maybe having or adopting kids. And Bucky seemed so perfect. A little too perfect.

“Of course I want you to.” Meet Steve. The bowl was carefully handed to you while he settled down next to you with his own bowl. “Why wouldn’t I want you to?” The soup was just as good as you remembered it from last night. It had been late, almost one am when the two of you cuddled up on the couch and cleared your sinuses for the first time in a week.

You shrug, spooning more of the spicy salty broth into your mouth. He gives you a strange look, “You’re my girlfriend,” Brow scrunched, “Girlfriends typically meet their boyfriend’s friends.” Your chapped lips parted and closed, “I mean I know we never like, officially, said anything, but… I thought you knew we were together.” His voice sounded a little sad. His eyes meet yours, placing his bowl on the coffee table.

You shook your head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know if you wanted to--” You sighed heavily, “I’m sorry. No, we are together.”

“Did you think we weren’t?” The bowl was taken from your hands and gently placed beside his on the coffee table, grasping your cold hands in his.

“I… I didn’t know,” It was hard to look at him, “Sometimes, it’s just…”

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it more clear what my intentions were.” His voice level and reassuring, “I want to be with you, I want to be your boyfriend.” Your eyes glassy. Your period was probably going to start soon, to be fair. You’d cried during Masterchef earlier when the girl had burned her sauce. It had been devastating.

“No, I’m sorry.” You shook your head, “Communication goes both ways and I just didn’t think to ask.” In case you said no. He softly pressed his lips to yours,

“Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” You sniffle,

“You’re gonna get sick.” Bucky rolls his eyes, smiling,

“Are you gonna answer my question or not?” You bit a little dry skin off your bottom lip before nodding,

“Yes.”

The next weekend had been at his own apartment, his stuffy nose and watery coughs a mimic of yours. The dinner with Steve would have to wait.

taglist // @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique @the-soulofdevil @tinmunky @albinotigerpython

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #the winter soldier #sebastian stan

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tripleaxeldiaz · 4 years ago

Text

you play, and everything else goes away

for @extasiswings <3

read on ao3

It’s all very familiar as he enters the store — the smell of wood and rosin, the instruments hanging on the walls, the snippets of music coming from the practice rooms along the back wall. There’s music playing from speakers behind the front desk too, a familiar piece that he’s forgotten the composer of. As he adjusts the case straps on his shoulders, watching a group of kids warm up in the corner, he’s suddenly nervous, anticipation rolling in his stomach like it did before his very first lesson.

Eddie didn’t start with the cello — every kid in the neighborhood was taking piano lessons, so his mother signed him and his sisters up too. Sophia was good, played through sophomore year, did a few solo and ensemble competitions. Adriana quit after a month so she could focus on dance. Eddie liked it fine, but he didn’t feel any passion for it. The keys felt too cold, too impersonal, and he couldn’t feel the music anywhere but in his hands, didn’t feel like he could control it.

His teacher must have noticed too, because she turned to him one day mid-lesson and asked, “Eddie, what do you really want to play?”

He’d thought about it, of course. He’d watched kids warm up and tune every instrument imaginable while waiting for lessons to start, but he always felt himself drawn to the strings. They were beautiful, looked elegant and commanding no matter who was playing them, and although they only had four strings, there were infinite notes that could be played, microtonalities and variations that the 88 keys of the piano just couldn’t replicate. Every violinist he watched seemed to put their whole body into their pieces, swaying as the music changed, bows ebbing and flowing. He told his teacher the simplified version of that and she nodded, leaving the room and coming back a few minutes later with two cases, one double the size of the other.

She handed him the violin first. Twisting his arm to hold it under his chin was awkward, and the shrill tone of the E string wasn’t something he was sure he wanted to listen to day in and day out. His teacher showed him some basic fingerings and helped him play a scale, but something still felt wrong.

The cello, though. As soon as he sat down with it securely between his knees, he knew this was different. Better. The tones were lower, warmer, and he could feel them in every inch of him, felt in command of the music he was playing. All he played was a D major scale, but it was enough to know this was it for him. His parents agreed, happy enough that he still wanted to play something, and bought him his own cello that same day. He was a little worried on the day of his first lesson that he wouldn’t love it as much as he hoped, but one hour and one sawed out version of “Hot Cross Buns” later, he was completely enamored.

He continued with lessons, joining his school’s orchestra in fifth grade, and Eddie continued falling in love with the cello, now learning how to love how it sounded as part of a whole rather than just a single instrument. Cello parts weren’t always the melody or particularly fun, but they supported the sound of the whole piece, enriching it, sometimes making it so intense he could feel the notes in his bones as he played. He was first chair by sophomore year, playing solos and in the chamber orchestra. He listened to the pieces his director recommended outside of school, and fell down rabbit holes of his own, finding particular comfort in the repetition and minimalism of Glass and Richter, in the picturesque melodies of Einaudi. By the time he was a senior, it was clear that he wouldn’t be able to play much if at all after graduation — his parents were pushing so hard for pre-med, the Army kept sending him letters about his potential as a recruit, and all the best music programs were out of state anyway, away from Shannon, from his family, everything he knew.

He packed up his cello after his orchestra’s senior concert, fully expecting to never touch it again, watch it gather dust in the corner of his childhood bedroom while the world moved on around it. It hurt Eddie deeply to leave this thing he loved so much behind, but he still had recordings to listen to, where he could close his eyes and pretend he was playing too, fingering along silently on his arm.

It wasn’t the same, but it would have to be enough.

But fast forward 15 years and here Eddie is, waiting for his new teacher to call him into their room, foot tapping with nervous energy. He sees a door open, a girl walking out with her case on her back, waving as she heads out of the store. A man maybe 10 years older than him sticks his head out.

“Edmundo?” he calls. Eddie walks over to the room, shutting the door behind him as they shake hands.

“Eddie is fine,” he says.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Steve,” Steve says, his smile warm and paternal. “I take it this isn’t your first rodeo?”

Eddie stops, bow in his hand frozen mid-rosin. He hadn’t even realized he had unpacked, it just...happened. Like muscle memory.

“It’s not,” he laughs, blushing lightly. “But it has been a while.”

“Well that’s okay, it’s never too late to start playing again,” Steve says as Eddie settles in the plastic chair, locking his endpin and placing it in the rock stop. “Do you have any music with you? I’d like to get an idea of where your technique is at right now.”

“I don’t, but I have a piece memorized I can play?”

Steve waves his hand out as he sits in the chair across from Eddie. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Eddie places the bow on the strings and takes a deep breath. It’s been ages, but it’s all so familiar that he’s not nervous anymore. The weight of the cello is comforting, like hugging an old friend, and he’s relaxed. Excited, even, to be back in this mindset that was an escape to him for so long. As he begins to play, the familiar arpeggios flow out of him like rain water, the bow gliding along with them. He closes his eyes and feels it, the slurs and scales, the crescendos and diminuendos, every rest, every string crossing. This was the first piece he ever memorized, the first one he ever played in front of people at a recital, and to know that it’s still so much a part of him, ingrained in his mind, makes him kind of want to cry.

He finishes, let’s the last chord linger, his eyes still closed. He knows it wasn’t perfect — he was flat in places, he missed a bowing change and was backwards for a few bars, and his fingertips started hurting toward the end, calluses no longer there to protect him. But none of that matters to him, really, because he’s back, back in this home he didn’t realize he had missed so much.

He opens his eyes as Steve claps softly, still smiling. “That was really great, Eddie. You have some things to brush up on, but you really are a natural. Shall we work through it from the top?”

He picks up his bow, heart close to bursting with happiness, and he starts again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie peaks through the crack in the curtain, scanning the audience for his family. He spots them — they’re kind of hard to miss, taking up the entire third row — and he feels his stomach drop, more nervous than he ever is running into a burning building.

It was their doing, really, his getting back into playing. Sophia had been in town and had dropped by the station one day, and everyone took full advantage of grilling her for childhood memories of Eddie. He hadn’t minded when she let slip that he played cello once upon a time, because he wasn’t ashamed of it. It just wasn’t something he talked about often because it still stung, even all these years later, remembering the feeling he used to get mastering a tricky fingering or learning a new piece, knowing he’d probably never have that same joy again. He didn’t really think anything of the way Buck’s eyes lit up when he said he wouldn’t mind taking lessons again, or the way he pulled everyone but Eddie aside in the weeks leading up to Christmas.

At their yearly gift exchange, Eddie had been presented with a huge, oddly wrapped package with a tag reading “To: our favorite musician, From: all of us”. His breath caught as he unwrapped it, revealing familiar, curved black plastic. He opened the case, tearing up at the sight of the used but clearly loved cello and a coupon for a year’s worth of lessons from a local teacher. He croaked out a “thank you” and was quickly enveloped in a group hug, feeling beyond grateful for these people that knew him so well and loved him so much.

He practiced as often as he could in between lessons and work and everything else. Sometimes he was alone, working through difficult passages with varying degrees of frustration. Sometimes Chris laid on the ground next to him doing homework, sometimes Buck sat on the couch and read, both listening intently, not caring when Eddie played the same four bars over and over and over to get them right. As annoying as it was, he never felt like giving up, like picking cello up again had been a mistake. If anything, it just made him work harder, in honor of 18 year old Eddie that had to leave his passion behind.

The audience claps as the pianist before him finishes. Eddie feels a hand on his shoulder, turns to see Steve behind him, holding his folder of music.

“You’ve worked hard this year, Eddie. You’re going to be great. And if not, that just means you have to keep practicing.”

Eddie nods, stomach still swirling. He and Steve walk on stage as his name is announced, and he hears Buck and Chimney’s unmistakable hollers. He sets up his chair and music stand in front of the piano, looking at the audience again. He can see everyone’s face clearly from here, all smiles, Bobby holding up his phone to record the performance. He catches Buck’s eye, who sends him a wink and a smile, and he’s ready.

He places his bow on the strings, nods to Steve, and he’s lost in the music almost immediately. It’s a melancholic piece, full of sorrow and intensity that fills Eddie as he plays. He picked this piece because it’s beautiful in it’s sadness and simplicity, and today, he plays it for all that he’s lost. For his Army friends, for Shannon, for his younger, more optimistic self. He mourns for them through his music in a way that he’s never been able to without it, and as it swells into the final melodic section, he swears he feels some weight lift off his soul.

He finishes, and there’s a breath before the audience applauds. It’s mostly polite, but the third row is on its feet, Athena passing Maddie a pack of tissues as they wipe their eyes. He smiles and bows before heading offstage with Steve, feeling giddy, the same we he always remembered feeling after a good performance. It didn’t matter that he missed a few notes or rushed a few bars — he made people feel something, and that was a better reward than perfection.

Another round of applause from his family greets him as he enters the lobby, Chris barreling into his legs, all smiles and congratulations. There’s hugs and pats on the back and flowers from Hen and Karen, and Eddie doesn’t know if he’ll stop smiling. As they leave, headed to a nearby restaurant to celebrate, Buck falls in step next to Eddie, tangles their fingers together.

“You were beautiful up there, Eds,” he says as he presses a kiss to the back of Eddie’s hand. “I’ve never seen you look so in your element.”

Eddie just smiles, kissing Buck’s cheek before tugging him toward the car, Chris already there, yelling at them to get a move on.

Because Buck’s right. On stage, playing music, he is in his element. Behind a cello, he’s home.

#eddie diaz #evan buckley #buddie #buddie fic #9-1-1 fic #9-1-1 fox #soft eddie rights #i'm probably gonna be crying about this forever #ficcery

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ijustwant2write · 4 years ago

Text

Solo Mission-Steve Rogers x Reader

(GIF credit to @ifoundkylo)

Masterlist

Tags: @amirahiddleston @bloodorangemoonlight @nekoannie-chan

Summary: Steve is being sent on an extremely risky mission, and no one knows why it has to be just him. However, the team has settled on it, knowing that he has been chosen for a reason. But (Y/N) can’t see things the same way as them, trying to convince them to not let him go.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Reader (platonic), Vision x Reader (platonic), Tony Stark x Reader (platonic), Natasha Romanoff x Reader (platonic), Same Wilson x Reader (platonic), Bruce Banner x Reader (platonic), Clint Barton x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name (Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Swearing, crying, arguing, mentions of death and injury, overall fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

My hands started to tremble as I read through the mission file, seeing the details about the enemy Steve was to face. I shouldn’t have been looking in the first case, it was almost illegal for my eyes to even glance over it, but what with it sitting there on our bed, I couldn’t help myself. The file flopped down onto my lap as I stared straight ahead of me. Why was Steve chosen for this? And why was he going alone? Why couldn’t they have a backup team of S.H.I.E.L.D agents, just in case? Surely the mission would go smoother and quicker with more people.

The door to the bathroom opened, Steve emerging with a towel wrapped around his waist, a few droplets running from his hair down his neck. He froze when he saw what was in my hands, sighing as he approached me. “You know you’re not supposed to be reading those things.” He tried to take it from me, but I stood up in time to escape.

“When were you going to tell me?” I asked.

“(Y/N), I was going to tell you. I had to make sure I was clear with my orders-”

“These orders are basically suicide!”

“You’re worrying over nothing.” he tried walking towards me again.

“Not this time.”

I let him throw the papers onto the bed, holding my hand instead. Of course I worried about every mission, but those details, the danger he was going to be in made my stomach twist.

“Steve,” my voice was begging to shake,“I have that feeling in my gut, that same feeling I had with New York, and Ultron, and-”

“Hey,” he breathed out, pulling me into his bare chest,“you’re thinking like that because I’m on my own.”

“Exactly! Why are you on your own?”

“Because that’s what they think is best.”

“Oh fuck that.” I snapped, pulling away to wipe away the tears.

“(Y/N).” He warned.

“No, seriously, fuck that! S.H.I.E.L.D always think they’ve got everything right, but they don’t. Including sending you away, by yourself, on what seems like an awfully dangerous mission.”

“There will be a reason. I’m the only one who can do this, and I have to.”

Rubbing my eyes again, I looked up at him, taking in his beautiful features. He had that sad smile on his face, where he felt guilty about something but wanted you to be happy. Slowly sliding my arms around his waist again, I hugged him as tight as possible, feeling his arms engulf my body. This just wasn’t fair.

The next day, I drove to the Avengers HQ, knowing that it would take more than myself to convince Steve not to go. I stopped speaking to him about it the night before, knowing it would lead to a huge argument. Though if I backed my feelings up with other people’s opinions, it might make him see that I wasn’t thinking with just my heart. Steve was already here training, they had new recruits after all, making it the perfect time to persuade anyone to join my team. The first person I saw was Wanda, someone easy to start with.

“(Y/N), I did not know you were coming here today.” She said surprised, her eyes on me as I sat down on the couch next to her.

“Yeah, it is a little unexpected. I need to ask a favour.” I started.

“Go on.”

“OK, so, Steve has been tasked with this solo mission, the only issue is, it’s basically sending him to his grave.”

Wanda shook her head slightly.“What are you talking about?”

“Look, I just need a few of us to convince him it’s a terrible idea, and not to go.”

“(Y/N), if he has been assigned a mission, he has to go.”

I held up a finger.“But not if it’s going to kill him!”

She pushed my hand back down.“I mean, when you join something like S.H.I.E.L.D, you’re basically giving your life for the service.”

“Wanda, I thought you would be on my side.”

“I used to think the same way, but after seeing how we help people, you put others before yourself.”

“Which is the exact problem!”

“Excuse me-” Vision suddenly appeared through the wall, making me jump almost a foot back.

“Vision, you really need to use the doors unless you want to give someone a heart attack.” I dramatically breathed out.

“My apologies. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I’m afraid Wanda has a point.”

“Not you too.”

“Captain Rogers is one of America’s best fighters, the country he serves is even in his title.”

“Guys, seriously, you don’t see the bad side of this?”

“Of course we do,” Wanda reassured me,“but this is his job. It’s what Steve knows.”

I huffed, making it clear that I was angry with them as I stormed out of the room. This was going to be much harder than I thought. The easiest target had already denied me. Taking a moment to stop, I leaned my back against a wall, thinking who to go to. It was a long shot, but perhaps Tony would see how I was thinking, he was never a fan of S.H.I.E.L.D, even when working with them; he always wanted things to be simple and for no more fighting to happen, I could get something out of this.

Tony was hunched over the coffee machine in the kitchen, peeking over his shoulder when he heard my footsteps. Without saying anything, he lazily waved his hand before looking back at his coffee cup. I stood beside him, mumbling a ‘hello’.

“What’s with the moping?” He asked, straightening up.

“I’m upset.”

“About what? Also, does Steve know about this? I feel like Cap should know if something is wrong with his girlfriend before I do.”

“I mean, sort of-”

He held up a hand.“Please don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

I frantically shook my head.“Oh, God no. Not that it would be a huge problem...well, actually-”

“I’ve already listened to your dream house talk before, remember?”

“I’m going to get straight to the point here, Steve is going on a mission and it’s going to get him killed.”

Tony didn’t seem phased as he poured coffee into his cup.

“Tony, are you listening?”

“Well isn’t that every mission?”

“No, there has never been a mission like this before! He’s going completely solo.”

“(Y/N), I hate to say it, but I think you’re growing more worrisome with age.”

“What? Why is no one taking this seriously? I felt those horrible butterflies in my stomach when reading those files, you know what that means.”

“OK, so you had that gut feeling when we fought aliens, right? And we came back from that alive, didn’t we?”

I stuttered.“Y-yes, I suppose so. But...but it wasn’t...it wasn’t guaranteed.”

“You have never felt that bad on any other mission.”

“No, but-”

“You’re paranoid because capsicile is on his own. He’s a big boy, he’s fought by himself before.”

Hastily turning around, I clenched my fists around the edge of my sleeves, biting the inside of my cheek to focus on something other than crying. It was so frustrating. No one could feel what I could feel.

I heard Tony sigh behind me.“(Y/N)-”

“I want to speak to everyone.”

“What?”

I started to walk away.“Get everybody but Steve in conference room one, I need to understand why Steve’s so-called-family is letting him do this.”

Pacing up and down the length of the room, my gaze was fixed on the outside world. My mind buzzed with thoughts on what to say, how to get them to see how inconsiderate they were all being. I still hadn’t spoken to Clint, Natasha, Bruce or Sam, and I was nervous to hear what they had to say. Though deep down, I knew what I was going to be facing. Those who had no idea what was going on hesitantly walked in, with Bruce and Clint standing down and Sam standing with his arms crossed.

“What’s going on?” Natasha whispered to me.

“Wait until everyone is here.” I replied.

She kept her eyes on me for a few more seconds, a confused look in her eye before she joined the others at the table. Tony waltzed in, no coffee this time, and a minute later Wanda and Vision came along. The three who knew what this was about stood, a somewhat bored expression on their face. It was an assumption, but it made me angry, meaning I didn’t start the meeting off well.

“I want to know why you’re all so calm about sending Steve into a trap that will be the end of him.” I blurted out, standing at the head of the table.

Those who had no idea what was going on were wide eyed, glancing at each other.

Natasha was brave enough to speak.“What do you mean?”

“She is scared that Captain Rogers is set on a potentially lethal mission. Miss (Y/L/N) believes he may die.” Vision calmly explained.

“You called us in here for this?” Sam scoffed.

“Oh, you guys didn’t get personal interviews?” Tony mocked.

“I don’t understand why no one else is worried about this! I wouldn’t be making such a big deal out of this if I thought he was going to come back with a few scratches.” I exclaimed.

“What exactly do you know?” Bruce tried to understand.

“I read the mission brief, he’s in there all alone. I know you have all been on missions like these in at least groups of three. So why does Steve have to go by himself? Don’t you guys want to help me show Steve that it’s too dangerous for him? Don’t you care?”

“They wouldn’t pick him for fun.” Tony butted in, walking towards me.“Have you spoken about this with him? Properly, I mean.”

“You know he’s not going to refuse.”

“Then that’s the decision.” Sam pointed out.

“But you know what Steve is like, he does it because he feels that he has to, he doesn’t want to let anyone down.”

“He doesn’t have a choice (Y/N).”

I instinctively raised my voice.“There’s always a choice!”

“I think that’s enough (Y/N).” a gentler voice came from the doorway.

Steve had been listening, for how long, I didn’t know. He walked in, surprisingly wrapping an arm around my waist.“I’m sorry guys. Can you give us a moment?”

They slowly filed out of the room, some faster than others, They were annoyed at me, I had wasted time out of their day, whether they had been working or not. Avoiding eye contact, I knew I would have to apologise, especially with how my tone came across. Once the door was shut, Steve looked down at me, though I found it hard to look him straight in the eye.

“Hey, look at me.” He softly said.

Reluctantly, I did as he said as he faced me properly, both hands resting around the small of my back, my hands naturally holding onto his biceps.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to do. But you know things aren’t that simple.”

“I know but…” my voice was shaky, and instead of holding everything in, I let the tears flow freely.“I just thought that they would see things the same as I did, and maybe we could fix this somehow.”

“Please don’t get upset. I know what you were trying to do.”

“Steve, do you really think you’ll be alright on this mission?”

“I will.”

“And how are you so sure of that?”

“Because I have you to come back to. You’re the only thing I think about on those missions. I know that I can’t let myself get hurt like I used to, I could never forgive myself if I left you behind.”

I smiled slightly.“You should be concentrating on the mission, not me.”

“How could I not think about you?”

Pulling him closer, I closed my eyes, still crying but feeling a sense of warmth run through me as his hand was placed on the back of my head, smoothing out my hair.

“If I could refuse, I would have done so the moment they handed me those papers.”

“I know.” my words were muffled against his clothing.“I’ve been over dramatic, haven’t I?”

Steve’s chest shook as he chuckled.“Just a little.” “You’re not mad though, are you? Not like the others?”

“No, I would never be mad over something like this. It just reminds me how much you love me...not that I need reminding.”

“I love you Steve.”

“What did I just say?”

“I’m going to have to come up with something good to make everyone like me again.”

“A simple apology will do.”

“Steve?”

“Hm?”

“Can we go home?”

“Sure. Let me grab my things.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No, you don’t.”

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buckyreaderrecs · 5 years ago

Text

So Far Away: Chapter 5/?

Summary: Bucky Barnes doing what he does best. Saving. Loving. In this particular case, the object of both is you. (Bonus: Bucky Barnes happy, healing, doing really well!)

First chapter in series. Previous chapter.

Chapter 5: It’s time to find your family.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader Characters: Bucky Barnes, F.R.I.D.A.Y., Cecilia Reyes Additional tags: mostly canon compliant (Infinity War and Endgame didn’t happen, Stark Tower still exists), she/her pronouns, more tags/characters to be added with future chapters, hero Bucky Barnes, canon typical violence, warzone/disaster zone setting, Alpine the cat, other Marvel characters mentioned but not central to the plot, Warnings: possible triggers for anxiety and PTSD, major triggers for death of loved ones and grief, chapter 5 only possible trigger for food

Note: Please heed the warnings for this chapter; it’s a bit intense. As always, I’d love to know what you think. xo Rhi

So Far Away Chapter 5/?

The first night you'd spent at Stark Tower was forgettable in the sense that you had completely forgotten most of it. Vaguely, there was a bath, and Bucky, then bed. That was pretty much it though. So, it wasn't like the day after needed to do anything particularly special to be considered memorable. And yet, it was.

As Bucky put all the Mexican food trash into the paper Ubereats bag, you flicked through channels on television.

"Have you seen this?" you asked, stopping on Atlantis: The Lost Empire.

"I know, I know! I don't know shit about anything, but in my defence, I've been busy helpin' to save the world since I've been… good," Bucky replied, highly defensive but also still in good humour.

"Um… I just meant, 'cause it's a super underrated Disney movie. And nobody's seen it, like Hercules," you told him, holding back a grin.

"Oh… Sorry. Sam's always yelling at me," he explained, throwing the Ubereats bag in the bin and walking back over the couch from the kitchenette.

"About movies?"

"About everything," he said, rubbing his face. "He's cut up about me missing, like, all of hip-hop."

It made you laugh, which motivated Bucky to continue his bitching about Sam Wilson. "And! He thinks me and Steve should have more 'refined taste' in everything." He used air quotation marks, which Natasha Romanoff had taught him to use, much to the dismay of Steve. ("Captain America.")

"Refined taste?"

"Yeah, basically he loses it when he we like anythin' he thinks is bad. Like…" Bucky cycled through his list of favourite things. "The Fast and the Furious movies."

An image flashed in your mind of Steve and Bucky, completely decked out in their respective gear, marathoning the films, cheering at every car stunt and use of the NOS button. It made you smile, genuinely happy.

Bucky continues, "They ain't my favourite or anythin', but they're fun, ya know? He's probably just upset that whenever we get in car races it's mostly someone trying to kill us,"

"I guess that's… fair, but he's… The Falcon… that's super cool?"

Bucky grinned, but quickly shook his head. "Don't ever tell him you said that, okay? Never tell Sam you think he's cool,"

"Is it like feeding Gremlins after midnight?" you asked.

"I watched that one! And, yeah. It's exactly like that,"

"But it's not like you guys don't get to see cool things… and be cool,"

"I guess… We're used to it?" Bucky thought for a second or two, wriggled into the couch and rested his arm along the back of it. You turned to face him, legs crossed and entirely attentive. "Before the war I loved reading about what new gadgets were comin' out. Used to drag Steve to anything with tech stuff. But then, Hydra. I wasn't really conscious enough to realise I was in the future," he told you, chuckling a little to himself like it was funny. It was so nonchalant that it shocked you a little. He hadn't stuttered saying their name, or shifted to a darker mood. "Whenever I got re-programmed, I was re-trained too. Whatever advancements they made, I learnt. Meant when Shuri fixed my head up, I wasn't that inept. Got it a lot easier than Steve that way,"

"Just movies and T.V. and stuff that you missed then?" you asked, feeling like you needed to keep him talking because you'd never heard anything so goddamn interesting.

"Yeah. Hydra didn't exactly have a Netflix subscription for me," he said. You said nothing. "That was a joke. You can laugh," Bucky told you, softly nudging your knee.

"I don't know how you joke about it," you said honestly.

He shrugged. "You'll joke about all this too, one day," he replied.

No. No, I won't.

Bucky saw the conflict flash across you face.

"It's not like there isn't things that still blow my mind… Wakanda, for one," he continued, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Is it as cool as it looks on T.V.?"

"Cooler. It's gotta be one of my favourite places. And when I met Wanda… She thought I was a bit of a meatball. Never met anyone with powers like hers, you know? She's amazing. And Vision. Still don't really get what he's about,"

"So, you are friends with Wanda Maximoff but you think Vin Diesel is cool?" you asked, affronted.

Bucky laughed. "No. I think the cars are cool. The stunts! Vin Diesel seems like a jerk."

Another image flashed. Someone in the world, Vin Diesel, knowing that The Winter Soldier thought he was a bit of jerk.

Bucky watched you laugh.

"Come on, then. What's this one about?" he asked, turning back to the television.

"Atlantis-"

"Underwater city? I'm in."

That's about where you realised that Bucky Barnes was a massive nerd.

It took Bucky ten minutes to tell you that you needed to keep warm, putting the knitted blanket over you. It took twenty to have him scoot closer to you, his arm still on the back of the couch, behind your head. About half an hour in, Bucky said, "Yeah, this is better than Snow White. I love this little mole guy."

Bucky was watching, listening for any signs that the lack of conversation had given you time to think, to spiral. But, it hadn't. Atlantis was a comfort movie for you, a distraction. He could see you smile and frown along with the characters.

"It was pretty obvious that this was gonna happen," Bucky said at the high point of the plot twist. He was aiming for a reaction. You looked at him fast and dramatic. "I'm good at picking the bad guys. Kinda my job."

At the rolling of the credits, Bucky asked, "Ice cream?"

As he put a collection of Ben and Jerry's on the counter top, Bucky caught himself in a sudden realisation. He was keeping you busy. Eventually, you'd notice, or the day would carry on and bedtime would come; the quietness between 'goodnight' and sleep would crush you, pushing from you anxiety and grief. But first, Bucky thought, ice cream.

"Half Baked," you said. Bucky handed you the pint and a spoon.

You watched him open the Strawberry Cheesecake, Cherry Garcia, and Urban Bourbon. "Variety is the spice of life," he said grinning, his voice a strange mocking tone, like he was parroting someone you'd never met.

"I genuinely don't know where all that food goes,"

"In here," he answered, lifting his shirt and patting his tummy.

"Yeah, but like, do you have one of those trash compactor things that mooshes it all down super small?"

Bucky laughed. "Maybe. Who knows what's going on inside 'ere."

You were sitting on a bar stool, leaning against the kitchenette's counter. Bucky put the spoons in the dishwasher and the uneaten ice cream away. He liked things in their place, you noted.

"So," he said, too casually. It felt, correctly, like a lead up. "How are you feeling?"

"Full," you answered, honest, but also not really.

Bucky looked at you, nodded. "What else?"

You dropped your gaze, breaking eye contact. A nervousness grew in you, the gatekeeper to all the bad. It was telling you to flee - answering the question wouldn't be nice. You could tell that Bucky wouldn't change the subject though. He could wait in that silence all day for you to speak.

"I…" you began. "I don't know. There's just… a lot,"

"Yeah. That makes sense. There is a lot… Probably good to start telling me about it." When you said nothing to that, he added, "Or someone else. We can-"

"I feel guilty," you blurted out, partly to stop him suggesting you talk to anyone else, partly because the gate was opening and the guilt as behind it in abundance. Bucky nodded like he already knew what you were going to say, and what you meant. "I… I'm here. Where I'm more than safe," you said, looking around at the suite. "But I haven't done anything to deserve it-" Bucky went to say something but stopped himself. "I'm not the most hurt, or the most useful person to save or anything like that. And then, I haven’t even looked-" That was it. The tears began to stream down your face, heavy and hot. You could feel them pooling in your shirt somewhere. The sentence you started was lost, completely drowned out by sobs.

Bucky remained composed. He fetched tissues from the bathroom, took it upon himself to clear your face, ready for the next wave. It arrived immediately. "Come 'ere," he said, pulling you into him. There would be wetness and snot all over his hoodie when you would eventually move, but you didn’t think of that in the moment and Bucky really didn’t care. He stood between your legs, rocking you gently on the stool for a minute before you spoke again.

"I haven't even looked for anybody," you said, so softly and so painfully that even priests in confessional booths would have hung their heads.

"How could you?" Bucky asked.

During the time before his head was really put back together, that is what everyone did with him. They challenged Bucky's questions, forced logic on him, rending much of the harmful conclusions he'd drawn about himself incorrect. It was a good strategy and he'd learned it well.

You half shrugged and kept crying. A cycle had begun in your mind. You were crying because you felt guilty, but that made you feel selfish and stupid. You thought you should be crying for other people. All of that, of course, made you feel more guilty, starting the cycle all over again. But maybe that cycle was easier to loop on than any real feelings of grief and loss.

"When were ya meant to have time to find people? Couldn't do it in the refuge centre. Too much goin’ on. And your hand was smashed, probably killin' you. And like Doc said - in shock," he said, paused, waited for a response.

Bucky's hands were moving up and down your back with enough pressure to calm you sobs into softer hiccups and sniffles.

"Yeah?" Bucky prompted. You nodded and shrugged simultaneously. "Okay, so, couldn't have done it on the way here or last night. You were exhausted. Could hardly keep yourself upright. Ain't much use to anybody like that."

You covered your nose with a tissue and sat up. Even if he didn't care, you didn't want him to see you with a face covered in snot. Bucky had the tact to look away while he continued. You listened as you wiped your face clean.

"This morning, whisked ya away to Medical. Then force fed you some food. And now, we're here. So, if you're asking me, darlin', not too sure when you think you were meant to do all this people finding, you know?"

Bucky could see it in your face that you knew he was right. When you nodded, saying, "I guess," he felt completely victorious.

You drank the glass of water Bucky poured for you, then took a breath in, two, three, out, two, three.

"Okay," you said, voice almost normal.

"Okay," he repeated in solidarity.

"Can we find them now?"

…

The room was definitely not for civilians, but nobody stopped Bucky from walking in with you. It was a buzzing hub of activity and urgency. Voices spoke fast, people moved faster.

"It's kind of like a command centre," Bucky tried to explain. "Whenever there's a threat, we have a response team that do… I guess what would happen if there was an earthquake or somethin'. Search and rescue. Coordinating relief."

You nodded and stayed close to Bucky's side, not wanting to get in anyone's way.

"Sergeant Barnes," a very tired woman greeted.

"Hey. I'm really sorry to-"

"No time for that. What can we do for you?" she cut him off.

"Finding people that were in the attack zone," he replied.

"Everything we know, F.R.I.D.A.Y. knows. Integrated systems. Find a computer, preferably not in here, and ask her. Anything else?"

"No. Thank-" but she was gone.

Bucky hooked an arm around your waist and walked you back to the elevator.

"She was amazing," you said.

Bucky grinned. "Never met her before, but yeah, lot of people like that around here."

On a floor of the tower that was much calmer, Bucky and you sat in what you supposed was some sort of crazy high-tech boardroom.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"James,"

"Oh, it's James now?"

"Yes. How can I be of assistance?"

The first step was making a list of everyone you knew who lived or worked in the part of D.C. that was affected. You named them, confirmed through social media accounts and DMV records.

"Do you guys have access to, like, everything?" you asked Bucky.

"Probably shouldn't answer that," Bucky replied, winking.

Step two was all F.R.I.D.A.Y. "I work fast, but I'd like to check my work, Y/N," she told you.

"If you can, can you check with-" Bucky went to ask.

"First responder reports?" F.R.I.D.A.Y. asked.

"Must be the day for being cut off by women smarter than me, huh?"

"I could be mistaken, James, but isn't that every day?"

Bucky laughed, looked at you for back up, but saw you staring at screen in front of you. The list of names.

Once you'd actually made it, you realised there were likely less people to find than you first though. Your housemate, Lucas, was a bike courier. He may have been out of the zone, 50/50 chance. Elizabeth, your best friend, lived on the next block over. She was home when the attack happened. You were watching her Instagram live; she was feeding her pet snake, Salem. Then, the girls at the hole in the wall café you worked at, Glory. You didn't know who was shift, so you listed all five.

There were more, but felt like naming everyone you knew would be greedy somehow. Bucky said, when you were ready, you could look through the list of the deceased. Even hearing the phrase made you feel sick though.

"Do you want to wait here?" Bucky asked.

You turned to him, ran your hands through your hair. "I don't know… I can't…" but whatever you couldn’t, you couldn’t even articulate.

Bucky nodded. "How about we get some fresh air? When we get back, F.R.I.D.A.Y. will have something for us?"

…

Out on the street, everything was loud. The whole back-in-reality thing really took you off guard. Seeing the city from the top of the Tower was different to this.

"I got ya," Bucky said, coming to walk right by your side. You looked over at him, and he offered his hand. You immediately accepted.

As you walked by multiple cafés, you wondered if Bucky had a favourite, or maybe there was a secret superhero club behind a hidden door in an inconspicuous bodega or Chinese restaurant. Alas, earwax - no such luck. Bucky held the door of a standard looking café open.

The guy behind the coffee machine nodded. "Buck,"

"Hey, Gee,"

"Seen ya's all on the news. Everyone okay?" Gee the barista asked, the genuine concern evident in his tone and expression.

"Ah, yeah. You know - nothing they can't handle," Bucky replied; you suspected it was the party line.

"Good, good. What can we get for ya then?"

"Don't worry about it, bud. I'll jump in line."

Gee shook his head and smiled as Bucky took his place in the queue to order. "You wanna grab a table? Or wait with me?" he asked you.

"Stay," you replied, stepping closer to him.

While you held your body in a way that shielded your broken bones from people's paths, it was easy being close to Bucky. He was probably very accustomed to being around the injured, so never accidentally hit the cast. You were grateful.

Bucky reached out and curled hair behind your ears, then leaned in to kiss the top of your nose. It was intimate, and brought solace. It was also very public; as he moved away, started greeting the girl at the counter, you realised there were more than a few pairs of eyes on you. Turning from the room, you stood closer to Bucky and listened to their conversation.

"You know I can't tell you that," Bucky said, leaning against the counter like he owned it.

"But, like, it's over, right? We won?"

"Tiff, would I be standing here if there was something else I could be doing?"

Tiff nodded, made a face like she'd been let in on a state secret. "Hmmm," she pondered for a second. Then, with pep, "So, the usual then? For one of Earth's mightiest heroes?"

Bucky rolled his eyes at her. "I hate you," he joked before looking at you. "What will it be?"

You hadn't really thought as far as ordering. Already feeling self-conscious and spaced out, the burning in your cheeks was getting hotter.

"Thinking maybe a pot of tea to share?" Bucky suggested, casual, but also sending you a quick wink - he was saving you again.

"Tea's great," you said.

After ordering, Bucky chose a couple of oversized armchairs by the window to sit in. He let you breathe, let you stare through the glass and people watch for a long time. He answered messages on his phone, checked in with Steve while you daydreamed. So deep in thought, or maybe just completely zoned out, you didn't even notice Bucky had made a call, or that the pot of tea had been placed on the small table between you.

Bucky said your name, but you failed to move. He reached out, tapped a knuckle against your knee. You gasped, felt your heart skip a beat.

"Sorry!" he said immediately. "Didn’t mean to scare you…"

"No, it's alright. I'm just… um,"

"You're alright, darlin'. How do you take your tea?"

It was a simple enough question, but you looked down at the table like it was all alien.

"Maybe you can make your own," Bucky said, pushing the tea tray closer to you. "Give you something to focus on. Bring you back down to earth."

…

Although you were hardly touching your tea or the cookies the staff brought over as a gift, Bucky let you sit for much longer than what anyone normally would. It was starting to get dark, the café closing around you, when you finally seemed to become aware of the rest of the world again.

"Oh. Should we go?"

"Sure," Bucky replied, standing and holding his hand out again.

After thanking everyone, you were out in the city, walking back to the Tower.

The silence that existed between you and Bucky was a comfortable one, but the closer you got to your destination, the more nervous you felt. Something in your mind snapped, told you to try to be normal. So, you started to talk. Fast. And a lot.

"Do you all go there? Like, the Avengers? It was nice. They really like you. The cookies were good-"

Bucky cut in, stopping you more than actually wanting to answer. "It's easier to go to the same places. The novelty of us eventually wears off," he told you.

"Yeah, people don't really stop staring, do they? Must get tiring, having everyone watch you all the time. And treat you different." You internally begged yourself to shut the fuck up.

"Guess I don't really know what 'normal' would be… Don't like people giving me free stuff all the time though. Don't need it. Not really a skip-the-line type of guy," he said.

You wondered how much charity he needed after Steve brought him back into the fold. Instead of asking about that, you thankfully went with, "Must be nice sometimes though?"

Bucky thought for a second. It was one of the changes in personality he experienced after Hydra. Bucky in the 30s and early 40s was a little bit of an attention seeker, a true lover of the limelight. Not so much anymore. He thought of you then - how you'd considered him to be a hero, and how you had needed him. How you still needed him.

"Maybe there's a couple perks."

You nodded, went quiet again. Bucky noticed that you switched between that frantic, almost manic state and scary quiet a fair bit. He rolled with it, a little notorious for the odd mood swing himself.

It was in the elevator of Stark Tower that you started to get jittery. The palms of your hands started to sweat, but Bucky didn't let go. He also tried to not seem like all of his attention was fixated on you, but it was. When he took you back to his suite, rather than the crazy high-tech boardroom, he thought about explaining why, but figured it wasn't one of the main things on your mind.

Sitting on the couch in the same place you'd eaten burritos for brunch, you pulled the knitted blanket back over yourself.

"Ready?" Bucky asked, sitting down next to you and putting a glass of water and box of tissues on the coffee table. You nodded. "F.R.I.D.A.Y., how'd you go?"

You felt sick, real deep down in your stomach. It was a pushing force, making you hot and uncomfortable. Suddenly, the blanket was too heavy and you pushed it away with a weird anger.

Bucky wanted to hold you, but he knew the sensation of feeling trapped by grief. He gave you space and braced himself for what was about to hit you.

"I'm not sure what the best order to deliver this is," F.R.I.D.A.Y. admitted. She knew the limits of her programmed humanity, and it was probably the most impressive thing about her.

"Good news first," Bucky said.

"I've located Lucas and Elizabeth. Lucas is currently residing in an apartment just outside the affected zone. It belongs to a Jacob Short,"

"That's his boyfriend's dad," you said, nodding to yourself. Lucas was safe.

"Elizabeth is currently admitted to Howard University Hospital. She has a broken clavicle and humerus, and damage to the glenohumeral joint - all to her right side. She is in stable condition."

You breathed out hard, then took a tissue to your face. You'd not even noticed that you'd started to cry.

"Glory was destroyed," F.R.I.D.A.Y. continued.

That's when you looked up from the patch of floor you'd been staring at. On the screen of the television, F.R.I.D.A.Y. had been showing you relevant things - the Facebook status geotagging Lucas at his boyfriend's family home, the rental agreement that showed who lived at that address, Elizabeth's medical records, even security footage of her in the hospital.

You shouldn't have looked up.

For a moment, Bucky didn't understand why your breathing had all but stopped. Average people don't get a slideshow to accompany their bad news. He looked at the screen. A photo, then another, showed the entire building Glory was a part of reduced to rubble.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., maybe we don't need the show with the tell," Bucky said.

"No!" you yelled. "I need to see."

If there was information, visual or verbal, you needed it.

"I logged into WorkForce using your credentials to view the roster. Two people were working at the time of the attacks: Carly Underwood and Ellie Gilbert," F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you. Before she said it, you knew it. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Both have been put on the list of deceased. Carly has been identified officially. Ellie is pending, but using our facial recognition and matching, I can confirm it's her."

You stood up, ripping the hoodie you were wearing off. If it was too hot before, now you felt like you were made of lava.

Bucky watched you start to pace. Your expression was alarmingly flat.

"The rest of your co-workers are safe. Only a Tara Constantine was in the affected area. She was on a bus moved to safety by Peter Parker."

There was footage taken from somebody's phone of Spiderman saving bus and carloads of people.

"I used your social media accounts to create an index of known people. As far as I can tell, you do not directly know anyone else on the list of deceased."

The phrase was still making you feel sick.

Bucky mistook that as F.R.I.D.A.Y. being finished. He thanked her, asked her to keep him updated if anything changed.

"Sorry, Sergeant. There's more."

Both you and Bucky went still. What else could there be?

"Your parents, Y/N,"

"They live on the other side of the city. Probably worried about me, right?" You turned to the screen, expected to see a worried Facebook posted asking if anyone had seen you. How could telling them you were safe not be your first thought? Stupid. Selfish.

On the screen was a grainy traffic cam photo of your parents driving. It was time and date stamped.

"They're fine," you said.

"Y/N, I'm sorry… Your parents aren't on the list of deceased-"

"Yeah, because they're fine!"

Suddenly, you remembered you did call them. You were still in the refuge centre, and it took you an hour to find someone with a phone willing to share. First, you called your dad, but it went straight to voicemail. Your mum didn't pick up. Only a month before, they'd had the landline switched off. How did you forget calling?

"But using street surveillance, I tracked their car into the affected zone. They got caught in the attack-"

"No. No. They hate that part of town. I didn't even move in that long ago and they already hate it. There's no reason for them to be there," you said, angry. No reason… except you.

"I checked through unidentified photographs-" she tried to continue, her voice noticeably more robotic than Bucky had ever heard it. He was grateful to have her then.

"The what?" you asked, confused and flustered and still feeling so fucking sick.

Bucky sighed, figured he should explain that one. "It's the same as natural disasters… When they find bodies, move them to try to identify them, they make a catalogue of photos to help. F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s saying she checked through them,"

"So? They're fine,"

"Our facial recognition and matching have a 100% accuracy record, but… I could be wrong," F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

Bucky knew she wasn't, and was discomforted by her attempt at gentleness.

"Wrong about what?" you spat, already knowing.

"I believe your parents have passed away,"

"Show me," you said.

"Y/N, I-" from Bucky.

"Show me!" you yelled, moving to the screen, standing so close you swore you could feel the electricity buzzing from it.

The photographs from traffic cams were still up, static. You stared them down, waiting.

Bucky walked to you, stood behind you, held his breath.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. didn't speak again. She showed you all the photos of your parents she had found to base her conclusion on. The reach of her skills became apparent and terrifying. There was no way she and everything she could do, was legal. As photos from private accounts, devices, and websites flashed up, along with dozens from the DMV and work place IDs, you felt all the heat you'd brewed up drain from you.

Your body began to meltdown - you needed to pee, your mouth went dry, and earaches formed out of nowhere. It felt like you were being stabbed in the lower back. None of it made sense.

The screen went still again.

"Show me," you said once more.

Two overexposed photographs appeared on screen. Both were framed similarly - head shots of undeniably dead people. Also undeniable was the fact that they were the corpses of your parents.

"Turn it off," Bucky said.

The screen went black but you didn't look away. As long as you stayed there staring, the image wouldn't fade. You could see them in your mind. You could see the indent in your father's head, skull visible. You could see the blood on your mother’s face. Tape held their eyelids closed.

"Y/N," Bucky whispered, standing close. He waited for a response. Time was ticking by excruciatingly slowly. "Y/N, I'm gonna help you to bed," he said, but you flinched, so he stopped moving towards you. "Okay… That's okay. You can stay-" but before he could end the sentence with 'here,' you screamed out a guttural cry that mutated into sobbing.

Very quickly for Bucky then, time sped up again. It was moving too fast though. Your legs gave up, and he caught you only just before hitting the floor. You crawled out of his arms, along the floor, dry heaving between sobs and yelped of pain as you ignored the fact one hand was crushed. In the couple of seconds it took him to work out if you were going to throw up, you did. You puked all the Mexican and tea you'd had, then continued to crawl, making it close enough to a wall that you could lay on your side and lean against it.

Bucky knelt in front of you, tried to pull your hair into the tie that was usually around his wrist. Once successful, he went to retrieve a cold, wet wash cloth. He wiped your face but gave up when the sobbing seemed to get louder. He could make out words sometimes. For the most part, there was nothing coherent in your mind to articulate. You curled up into a ball, switching between deep sobs and outright screams.

Eventually, it all subsided into an even crying but you stayed in a tight ball. Bucky sat beside you, pressed close enough that he could feel each movement you made. After hours, once you'd gone quiet, Bucky whispered, "I'm gonna look after you, Y/N. Promise."

Chapter 6 coming soon...

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bethhxrmon · 4 years ago

Text

do flowers exist at night? -chapter fourteen

Chapter Fourteen: No Categories

Pairing: Steve Harrington x OC

Chapter Summary: Being stuck in detention with a few other people, it is only natural to have some sort of long-winded conversation that no one learns anything from.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Swearing, implied sexual assault, slight homophobia, probably not great writing lol

A/N: I hope you guys maybe catch the reference here?? Anyways I’d love some feed back from y’all. It you like this, you can find the masterlist here.

~*~*~*~

Getting in a car with Jonathan Byers to go to detention was not what Annie would have done with her Saturday morning if she had a chance. Still, it beat walking to detention and she knew that.

She ended up getting out of bed before Steve woke up for once. It was easier to sleep with someone next to her. Not that it ever fully got rid of all the nightmares, but it was as good as it got. So she waited until Jonathan was in her driveway before waking Steve a bit to let him know she was leaving.

"If you need me to beat up Billy for ya after, let me know," Steve murmured.

Annie kissed his nose, "You're not gonna do that, I'll be fine."

That was the goal at least. If she was there with Jonathan, then it didn't matter that Billy was there. Besides, there would be anyone else who got detention that first week back. Who knew what that could be for, but she wasn't banking on many people being there.

The car ride with Jonathan was pretty quiet aside from the cassette tape playing. If nothing else, she could say that the guy had good taste. Really, the only wrench between them was any grudge she had because he sort of played a part in Steve getting hurt. Not that it was a huge deal now. That was clearly the case considering how easily Jonathan gave up the day.

He pulled up to the school and they both stayed seated for a bit longer.

"Thanks for this... you um... I know it's probably not the way you wanted to spend today," she said, shrugging a little.

Jonathan sighed, "It wasn't, but you shouldn't have to deal with that guy alone."

With that, they both went to the school and walked straight to the library. Much to Annie's surprise, there were four other people. She recognized Billy and Carol, but wasn't completely familiar with the other two. They were both in her theater class and she knew that she would feel like an ass if she asked their names now.

Instead of the librarian running detention, it was the assistant. A man who only seemed to be a few years older than any of them. However, that meant he didn't really care what they said or did as long as they shelved the books and didn't bother him as he gossiped on the phone.

It was simple enough. Once all the shelving was done, she could just keep to herself until they could all go home. Everyone seemed rather content to do that. At least, everyone except for Billy who couldn't go five minutes without saying something to someone.

At first, all he did was talk to Carol. None of them really cared. Carol seemed to agree with him on anything he had to say, so he got bored of that easily. It was Annie's personal goal to not be a target. Though, she also trusted Jonathan to help her out if things got bad.

Though, his first actual remark was to the girl whose name Annie couldn't quite place.

"So what did you do to get detention, sweetheart?" Billy asked.

The girl side-eyed him as she shelved a book, "The name's Robin, and it's none of your business."

"Oh, come on! You're such a boring nerd, forgive me for having a hard time seeing you get into detention for any reason at all. You’re basically everything a parent could want. Boring and quiet," he said.

Annie watched as Robin sighed, "Not all of us like our parents as much as you'd think."

"Oh, you wanna trade places then? Do you wanna see what my old man did to me? His bitch of a wife didn't even bother to stop-"

"That's enough. You don't need to prove how much your life sucks," Jonathan said.

Billy approached him, "Oh, and why's that?"

"Because you'd come in last compared to all of us," Annie said, just loud enough to be heard.

It hadn't been Annie's intention to say that out loud, but now she had Jonathan and Billy staring at her. Maybe no one would take her seriously. Though, she was willing to bet every cent that her life was more difficult than Billy's since he was one of the reasons it was so hard for her to simply go to school.

"Well, what else are we gonna do here?" Carol asked, "May as well compare all our shitty lives."

Billy nodded slowly, "Okay, let's do it."

"Shouldn't we have some rules?" Robin asked.

The other boy Annie didn't know nodded, "Yeah, is this a competition? Because if we vote then we're all just gonna vote for ourselves."

"Then we just... can't vote for ourselves," Annie suggested, "I don't know."

Jonathan sighed, "Alright, who's starting us off?"

"I can. And then you'll all just understand how shitty someone's life can be," Billy said, leaning against a table, "Are you guys ready?"

Annie rolled her eyes a little, "Go for it."

"I will," he said, glaring at her, "My life's never been great. When I was a kid my mom left me with just my dad. He always beat on her and when she left, he did the same to me."

The other boy shrugged, "Everyone gets hit around as a kid."

"Shut the fuck up, dorito breath," Billy snapped.

"It's Keith, actually."

"Like I give a damn," he crossed his arms, "Anyway, my dad started seeing Susan and she had a daughter. Max was always a bit of a bitch, making my life a living hell. I got tired of her and I gave her some shit. Now, my old man didn't like that, so he said he was gonna send me to a military school."

Carol blew a bubble of her gum and let it pop, "Doesn't look like you got any military training."

"Yeah, that's 'cause I told him there was no way I was letting him just ship me off somewhere away from home. I hate him, but all the punks there would treat me even shittier than he does. See, getting beat around a bit might be normal, but I'm hit around more than a bit."

Annie couldn't help seeing red. Of all the things that he could have complained about, he had the nerve to complain about being hurt by a parent? That was supposed to justify everything he did? How could that possibly excuse what he did to those around him? She stopped listening at that point, her brown eyes giving a steely gaze at the gaudily-patterned carpet.

The only reason Annie knew that Billy was done was because Carol cleared her throat, "Come on, I can totally do better than that. You might get beaten a bit, but come on. You're more of a bitch than I am, Billy."

All of them nodded. She didn't think that he would be winning this. Not when she already knew exactly what she wanted to say. Maybe she would put on a bit of a show about it. It was hard to decide.

"Okay, so I was born in Chicago and then moved here in '72. Everything here is super lame, I feel like I should get points for a good part of my life just being too dull to document," Carol said, chewing on her gum, "Anyways, I started crushing on Tommy when we were in seventh grade. It wouldn't have been a problem, but he was dating my sister. She was a grade above us so you can't ask her now, but I just had to have Tommy."

Annie wasn't quite sure where this was going, but she felt like it was better than Billy's self-pity. Sure, his life sucked, but she would have more sympathy if he hadn't done the things he had.

Carol let out a sigh, "So, it took a bit of work, but I was able to win him over. Half the school hated me. That might still be the case, so... I guess I'm sorry? Except I'm not. Look, it's all in good fun. Doesn't matter anyways since the rest is history with me and Tommy. Except for the last year I know he's been screwing around behind my back."

"I um- I actually don't know what to do about that. Do any of you know what I'm supposed to do?"

Robin shook her head, "You dump him!"

"Yeah, I can't stand you, but you should definitely break up with Tommy. You deserve better," Annie added.

Somehow, with the knowledge that Tommy had been doing that to Carol, she felt worse for the girl than she did for Billy. Not that it was a difficult thing. She hadn't talked to Carol since the day she and Tommy were bothering her.

Jonathan sighed, "You're not the only one who's lived here a long time."

"So you're going next, Byers?" Billy asked.

He nodded, "Yeah, I'm not about to pretend like I don't have issues. Because, like you, I got beat around by my dad. So did my mom, I helped Will get out of that. Look, you and Carol are a bit more... headstrong than I am. That's just not my speed. I don't talk about that stuff much, but I know I'm the one keeping things at my house together."

"Oh, come on. You're dating Nancy Wheeler, shit can't be that hard," Billy said.

Annie rolled her eyes, "You can be dating someone and still have a hard time. Let him go."

"Aside from everything with my parents, I think you all know about Will. I'm not gonna talk about that, but it still counts for all this shit. So, I think some of you know how outcasted I was-"

"Only because you took stalker pictures of Nancy," Carol said.

He sighed, "I know that's part of it, but you guys didn't like me before then either. She's kind of my only friend and I waited almost a year to be with her."

"Um, okay, I thought we were lab partners," Robin chimed in.

Jonathan nodded, "You're right. You're both right, but I still never feel like I belong. After everything my family's been through, I can't afford to feel sorry for myself. I have to be unbreakable, you know? Instead of giving my little brother a hard time, I try to take care of him as much as my mom would. Sometimes I wish she took care of me that much, but I know she cares. I just don't know what's gonna happen when I go to college. It's far off, but I don't wanna abandon my family."

"You're not going to. You can move on from this town when you get a chance. Nothing says that you're not allowed to come back," Annie pointed out.

Obviously she knew that there was more to Jonathan's story. He went through everything over a year ago plus the same stuff she dealt with. It sucked, but she knew that he wasn't about to tell everyone. They couldn't talk about that stuff.

There was a long pause as some of them shelved the nearly empty carts of books. No one seemed to want to go next. Annie almost contemplated on going next. Everything that she wanted to say was right there in her head whether everyone wanted to hear it or not.

Keith let out a long sigh, "Okay, I know you guys are wondering what hardship a guy like me could have."

"We don't have to wonder," Carol said, "You're a tragedy."

Robin shrugged, "Not being allowed to eat in the library isn't a tragedy."

"Neither is not being allowed to annotate books," he countered, "Well, Jonathan over here isn't the only one with the hots for Nancy Wheeler. I helped out one of her brother's friends and I was supposed to get a date with her."

Jonathan laughed a bit, "Did that actually happen?"

"Nope, nothing happened, I totally got stood up. See, she doesn't think I'm the most attractive guy."

"Wonder why," Carol said.

“She has a boyfriend, that’s why,” Jonathan countered.

Keith glared at them, "I happen to think I look great. Nancy doesn't know what she's missing, and I don't wanna hear it from the chick dating Tommy Hagan of all people."

Annie's mouth dropped open. The nerve of some of the people at this school was beyond her. She could see Robin look a bit on the shocked side as well. Though, now, she had to know where this story was headed.

"Anyways, after that failed date, I went home. It's a classic story, you know? The mediocre-looking guy loses the beautiful girl because she thought she was too good for him. So, you might ask yourself if I'm bitter about all this," he paused before shrugging, "Not really. I got to go home to my parents and our large house and my Atari. Now, that's tragic."

Billy coughed, "You gonna give us your sob story?"

"Well, I lost the girl, but I still got to dance around my room in my underwear. So, you do the math. I can still flirt with whatever pretty girls I want. I'm a free spirit and I don't have to do anything unless I want to," he looked around the room, "So I guess I don't have a sob story. Life's pretty damn great."

Carol nodded slowly, "Okay, that's one person out of the running. I'm thinking we should just get to how we're gonna vote or whatever."

"Um... hello? I've still got something to say," Annie said.

Keith looked at her, "I'm sorry, but who're you again?"

"Oh, she's the chick who's dating Steve Harrington. His rebound, ya know?" Carol said, "What could you possibly have to say that could be tragic?"

Keith shook his head, "Of all people, you had to date a douchebag?"

"Not only a douchebag, but a pussy one at that," Billy added.

Jonathan reached out an arm to stop Annie from doing anything, but she ignored it and walked up to Billy. What it was she had in mind to say was beyond her. All of it just fell out of her mouth. Any bit of anxiety was replaced by a pure, unbridled rage and it was all she could do to not electrify him to death where he stood.

"This isn't about Steve. This is about me," she said, "And you know what? Maybe there's something to be said for me not having anything to say that could top any of you."

Billy nodded, looking like he was waiting for her to admit defeat.

"Like, seriously, your lives all sound like they suck and your stories... they show that as well," she looked up at Billy, "I mean, seriously, coming so close to getting shipped off to military school for being a dick. That could have come so close to being a real problem for you. Not like something I know of that's an actual problem."

She walked over to Carol, "And, getting cheated on? A tragic yikes. Unfortunately, I've seen that happen too many times to count. Seriously, though, please dump Tommy, he's not worth it."

"And Jonathan," she patted him on the shoulder, "Having to wait a year to get the girl you loved? And then getting her at the expense of hurting someone else's heart and trust? How could you have been so wronged!"

She glanced at Robin, "I don't have your story yet, so you're good for now... but Keith, oh Keith."

He looked at her and she frowned, "Being thrown aside for how you look? Now that sounds like the actual worst. Unfortunately, I can't relate. I mean, let's be real here. I'm, like, super hot. So hot that I have a dick for a boyfriend apparently. Hm... I'm not sure if I could ever compete with you guys!"

"Oh, I think I got an idea!" she said, standing in the middle of the library, "See, my looks have always been pretty great. So great, in fact, that I've had great luck with boys ever since I was little. And even from that age I was totally aware that all guys wanna do is, well, you know."

She wiggled her eyebrows as she sat on one of the tables, "So when I was in Seattle, I was fourteen when I met Jeremy. He was my music tutor, about eighteen, he was a senior. You could say he taught me everything I know. Like, he would take me through my scales and vocalizing exercises. He put my mouth to work a lot, if you catch my drift. Had to break me in, you know? And once all that was done, he would play with my hair and tell me how pretty I was. I thought there was a connection there, something different."

"Wait, did he-" Jonathan was cut off by Annie giving him a pointed look.

"So... that fell through after, like, six months. Then there was Greg. I was sixteen, he was nineteen. He worked as the sexy secretary for my mom's law firm. Naturally, I offered to help him out," she took a breath, "He had me help out in more ways than one. I mean, he could barely wait for my mom to leave the room before getting my shirt on the floor. Still, I'm pretty sure we had a connection. It was gonna be different."

Carol scoffed, "Yeah, right."

"Yeah... it didn't pan out, so I decided to focus on school. That's how I met Dr. Lancaster, my dad's boss. You guys know about the college professor scene in Seattle, right?" there was a pause and she shrugged before continuing, "He admired my intelligence and I helped him grade papers and whatnot. There was no way that he could've gotten through the semester without me. He said that we had something special... not quite as different as I thought."

Robin's eyes widened, "You fucked a professor?"

"No, actually. My parents were starting to have problems, so we moved to New York before anything happened. Pretty cool, right?" Annie said, letting out a sigh, "It wasn't easy there. The guys sucked, everyone did. Well, aside from my dad's TA."

"We already know he’s just gonna be a dick!" Carol exclaimed, "Sorry."

Annie forced a smile, "Todd made sure that I was handling the move okay. We would hang out all the time. It was great to actually have a friend. Nothing special to it. Until we were in my dad's office and he was talking about how much he really liked me... that's fine or whatever, but then he started to force himself on me um... pinning me to the desk? My dad caught us and he's blamed me ever since. He wrote a long letter about how I'm the biggest slut he knows."

There was a pause and she took a shakier breath, "So, moving here and getting that plastered all over my locker? Not so different from what I'm used to. I mean, all guys wanna do is, well... you would know, wouldn't you, Billy?"

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means. I know what you were gonna do to me if Max didn't stop you."

"Annie," Jonathan said, giving her a warning look that she ignored.

Billy rolled his eyes, "You tried to slit my throat."

"Because you were killing Steve!"

"Only because you guys were hiding Maxine."

"Because she was scared of you, and I don't blame her," she said, her voice cracking.

He rolled his eyes, "Whatever, now you're just crying to get more points."

"The least that could happen is that I win some dumb competition about who had the shittiest life," she said, getting off the desk, "Come on, Robin, you're up."

Robin looked at all of them, "Um... you know what? I'm good. This is really what we've come to? Arguing about whether someone deserved to get their face beaten in or whatever? I don't wanna bother."

"She's just worried that her story isn't gonna be that good," Carol said, crossing her arms.

Keith nodded, "Yeah, I hate to say it, but I agree."

It continued like that for a little while, each of them inadvertently pressuring Robin into saying something. After all, they all said something that was super personal. They may as well just have Robin in the running for all this.

"Okay, fine. You guys want some sad story? I'll tell you one," she said, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, "Just... a bit of context, I went to a camp last summer. Um... I met a gir- guy. We hit it off, you know?"

"What's his name?" Carol asked.

Robin sighed, "Sam, her-his name was Sam. We had something really good going, you know? It was really sweet, the way that um... that he would talk to me. I thought we could keep it up over the school year. The only problem is um... my parents, they're traditional. Like, really traditional and he was... well, he wasn’t someone they’d approve of. They found that out when he sent a photo. So I had to write him a letter and end things."

"Oh... what did you say?" Annie asked.

"I told he-him that... well, that I loved him. I loved him as much as you could love someone. That I really, really missed everything about him. I even said that if I could, I would have told my parents to screw off. As if they can choose who I love and wanna be with. I'll never be what they want, no matter how hard they try to force me into soemthing I don't want," Robin sighed, running a hand through her hair, "Of course, I can't say that to my parents... so I ended up sending that stupid letter. Is this really what we're doing, though? I have to bear my soul to all of you to win some dumb competition? I'm over this!"

There was a silence around the room before Billy piped up, "They had a point, you can't trust some people."

"I already have to hear it from my parents, so shut the hell up, Hargrove," Robin replied, shaking her head, "See, this is the type of shit that happens when we open ourselves up. It's stupid to compete for this. We'd all obviously vote for ourselves."

Annie shook her head, "I was gonna vote for your story, actually."

"Robin's right, though. Comparing everything like this was stupid,” Jonathan replied.

"It was that bitch's idea anyways," Billy said, gesturing to Annie.

She rolled her eyes, "Because you were being a dick. I didn't mean to actually have us spend this long on the subject."

Eventually, the topic dissipated, and no one cared any longer. It took a lot for them to all talk about what they had, but it clearly didn't make a difference. Annie just focused on shelving until Robin came near her.

There wasn't anyone else close enough to hear both of them, so Annie approached Robin, "Hey, um... I've got a question."

"What's up?"

"You don't have to answer, but... was Sam a girl ?" Annie asked.

Robin's eyes widened and her mouth opened.

"Wait, don't worry, I was just... I was wondering because it sounded like that. I mean, only because I kinda play for both teams, you know?"

Robin blinked, "Hold up, but you're dating Steve Harrington."

"Yeah, and? Still doesn't change the fact that in those two years I didn't mention that I was dating Penny who lived a few doors down from me."

"Holy shit, and you're not gonna tell anyone?"

Annie shook her head, "Wouldn't dream of it."

The both of them continued to shelve in silence. Though, Annie felt like there was more of a friendship between both of them. She hadn't told Steve about any of that yet. Not because she was scared of him reacting, but because she really didn't want him to just claim that he didn't believe her. That thought didn't stick around.

A couple hours later, and everyone was allowed to go back home. It almost felt like none of them had talked about anything. Maybe that was for the best.

Taglist: @dungeons-and-demodogs @nxncywheeler @ilovebucketbarnes

#steve harrington #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x oc #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things 3 #stranger things 2 #stranger things x original character #stranger things x oc #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #dfean?

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sad-af1121 · 5 years ago

Text

It’s You: Part 2

Summary: In which your date doesn’t go well and you meet a stranger who makes you forget all about it with his witty charm. But no numbers or names are exchanged between you two, leaving you both hopeless yet love crazed, never to find one another. Or so you think. | Modern AU | Requested by Anon | Pairings: Bucky Barnes x CurlyHaired! Reader Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: Full-on fluff & comedyyyy, bickering between sam and bucky, language

A/N: I’m trying to get this story done before August ends and I’m just so happy I’m not experiencing writers' block *crosses fingers* And thank you so much for the incredible feedback from the first part you guys, it’s truly amazing! | Thanking @isaxhorror for giving this a look through! Feedback is welcomed 💜

PART 1

Focused on work, Bucky gnawed the end of his pen, trying to see where he may have messed up his calculations for a new design of technology that Stark Industries hired him to work on. Being an engineer wasn’t Bucky’s golden choice when it came to a career but he was pretty damn good at it. However, as much as he was a hard, talented worker, he always got too buried in once he devoted all his attention to it.

“Buck, it’s almost 5. You can’t wear your work clothes to that date,” Steve breathed, sitting on his desk as the brunette continued to look down at his paper.

“'N why not? I always look good when I come to work,” he stated, leaning back in his chair and twiddling the pen between his fingers now.

Deeply sighing with annoyance, Steve crossed his arms over his chest, giving Bucky a stern look, “For the love of God, please go home and change into something decent. You’ve got grape jelly stains on your shirt. AND you smell of coffee and sweat.”

Bucky pursed his lips and shook his head. Steve did have a point but Bucky couldn’t care less. He opened his drawer and pulled out a Tide pen and Axe spray, two solutions to two problems Steve brought forth. After being stood up, Bucky didn’t want to continue the dating scene until after he felt the need to. As of right now, he wants to get his design done and manufactured before the year ended and having fewer distractions seemed necessary.

“You’re fucking kiddin’ me right?” Steve gritted through his teeth, rolling his head back, “So what you got stood up! Big. Fucking. Whoop. Stop acting like a child. Clint told me his roommate is a really nice girl and with a great personality! Just give it a chance, please? Put yourself in her shoes; would you want a half-ass date?”

The more Bucky thought about it, the more he realized Steve was right. It wasn’t fair and there was no way in hell he was going to ditch the date because being on the receiving end wasn’t fun. If Bucky was being honest, his retaliation and cold demeanor were all because he couldn’t get you out of his mind since last night. To think about someone else when you’re in the presence of another seemed cruel and it toyed with Bucky to the point that he just wished you’d get out from his thoughts. It pained him for wishing that but in a world this big, how was he going to find you; a needle in a haystack.

Looking up at his friend, Bucky slowly sat up, clearing his throat, “Fine, I’ll be the best version of myself I can be.”

A victory smile graced Steve’s face as he placed his hand in front of Bucky, the two high-fiving each other, “Atta boy! And before I forget, her name is Y/N.”

Bucky nodded in acknowledgment.

“What I miss?” Sam walked into Bucky's cubicle with a smile, chewing on his food that he held in a Tupperware.

“Is that my fucking food, Wilson?” Bucky growled, clenching his left fist that sat perfectly on his desk, his brows deepened with anger as he saw the ‘Property of Barnes’ written in Sharpie.

“Mhmm, sure is. I figured since you’re going out for dinner, you wouldn’t mind.” He smiled smugly, taking another bite of the chicken linguine pasta with alfredo sauce; one of Bucky’s favorite meals.

The pen in Bucky's hand snapped in two as his anger progressed. “I hope you choke on it.”

***

The soft panic that resided deep inside your chest kept coming and going, like a wave crashing on the shore. It wasn’t unusual, you were used to having this feeling whenever you were embarking on something new, something that you’ve never come across before. Online dating apps made things easier because you had a face to put with their descriptions and it allowed you to talk to them before setting anything up. But one thing you were good at was keeping your cool when things didn’t seem as bad as your mind had pictured it.

Adjusting the sleeves to your off the shoulder striped blouse, you admired the way your outfit sculpted your body as you gazed into the full-length mirror. You wore black mid-rise jeans with your blouse tucked inside, extenuating your figure a bit more. Loose curls that you were accustomed to wearing down were now stuffed tightly into a bun that rested on the crown of your head, a few loose strands shaping your face. You kept your make-up light and soft which balanced off nicely with a bold berry pink lip and highlight.

While you were lost in thought, Nat entered your room, softly knocking on the door frame in hopes to pull you out from wherever it was you seemed to go when you zoned out. “Damn, you look good.”

Your eyes shifted from your reflection in the mirror to Natasha’s, a smile blossoming upon your lips. “Thanks, I know I do,” you playfully stated, flipping your imaginative hair then turned to face her.

“Is Clint here yet?” She asked.

“He said he'd be here in 5 minutes but that was 10 minutes ago.” You breathed out with a smirk, walking to your closet. “I’ve got an hour before I have to meet up with the guy anyway. I hope he isn’t shitty like the one I had last night.”

“Hmm, that’s right,” she paused with a lop-sided grin. “You’d prefer that so your ‘knight and shining armor’ can save you like he did last night, huh?”

You dropped your shoulders and glared at Natasha, frustration creeping up your throat. “It’s like you want me to kick your ass.”

Natasha snorted with a laugh, “I’d like to see you try.” Her amusement didn’t deflate after you gave her a scowled look, only prompting her to laugh some more.

“Fine, fine! Suppose you’re not interested in the date, do you want me to call and pretend our apartment is flooding or something?”

Thinking, you bit your lip, trying to decipher if that was necessary or not. Then again, you didn’t want your time wasted if you really weren’t all that interested and didn’t see the date progressing to another. “That doesn’t sound like a bad plan. Kinda like an SOS?”

“Exactly!” The red-head beamed, shifting on your bed. “Just shoot me a text and I’ll call. But if you can’t pick up after my second call, I’m coming down there then. Deal?”

“Deal!” You laughed, excited that you had a backup plan just in case. You weren’t sure if you were looking more forward to Nat’s mission to save you or the date in itself, hoping you weren’t being overdramatic.

As your waves of laughter died down, the notification to your phone goes off with Clint’s text appearing across your screen. “I think Clint’s outside,” you wiggled your phone in the air and grabbed your bag before blowing Natasha a kiss goodbye. “See you soon!”

***

A whistle withdrew from Bucky's mouth as he observed the restaurant before him. It was a two-story turn-of-the-century townhouse with a lavish old-wealth charm. The night sky was vacant of any clouds, painting the perfect atmosphere for the event. He was glad Steve sent him home to change out from his basic work clothes to something more compatible with where he’d meet his date.

His hair was brushed back into a neat bun that sat at the base of his neck. The brown blazer he wore fit nicely upon his broad shoulders, the contrast between the warm brown and black t-shirt he wore underneath was a nice combination. His black pants were pressed and sharp without a wrinkle in sight and his black shoes were shined to perfection, enough for him to see his own reflection. The musky scent of his cologne followed as Bucky walked into the establishment, smiling at the man by the front desk who then guided him through the wave of diners.

Seated by the long bay windows, Bucky looked around the room, gazing at the pendant lights that were scattered across. He basked in the architectural beauty, the white walls and furniture creating an illusion of a space so large, that you could fit more than a crowd. The view of the city streets through the windows was the cherry on top. It brought a sort of relaxation to Bucky that he couldn’t quite explain but could get lost in the sea of life.

Sighing with anxiety in his seat, Bucky peered at his watch, reading 5:35 p.m. on the dot. Just another 25 minutes before his date would show up and god knows what was going to happen. He could hope for the best and pray this date doesn’t stand him up or else Bucky was making a date with the bar and its' drinks.

Bzzzt Bzzzt! Bzzzt Bzzzt!

Bucky reacted quickly to the sound of his phone going off in his pocket before grabbing the device out and accepting the call, groaning in silence. “What do you want, Wilson?”

“Did you make it to your destination?”

“Yes! Now leave me alone. She could be here any minute now and I don’t want to be on the phone with you when she does. It doesn’t look good.” Bucky whispered harshly, scanning the room to see if anyone was making their way to the table.

Sam furrowed his brows, “Boy, shut up. I just called to check up on you. Had to make sure you weren’t fucking things up. Now, remember to be nice and smile, okay? She doesn’t wanna see a grumpy cat.” He teased, practically hearing the anger on Bucky’s face.

“At least I can smile without having my teeth look like a picket fence,” Bucky snickered, covering his mouth with his hand from releasing a heartfelt chuckle as Sam let out a chain of curses. Looking around the room once again, Bucky locked eyes with a woman whose face was painted with an expression of disgust and concern. But Bucky doesn’t let that get to him, flashing the couple a sweet smile before looking away.

“Alright alright, I’ve gotta go. Bye.”

A few more minutes passed by and Bucky glanced at his wristwatch again, absentmindedly bouncing his leg with anticipation. As the minutes click away, Bucky's chest weighed heavy, making it harder to breathe properly. He was so nervous that he had to pee really bad but didn’t want to get up from the table. There was a chance you could be coming at any second and he refused to miss that.

But when the waiter comes by to refill his glass of water, the pressure in his abdomen worsened and Bucky had enough. Rising from his seat, he decided to make his way to the gentlemen’s room, knowing he had a few minutes to spare. He didn’t want to stay in discomfort the entirety of the date nor pee himself, the pain a constant reminder of how awkward it was. But before he went, Bucky stopped by the host at the front desk.

“Hey, so I’m stepping into the restroom and if my date arrives, could you possibly notify her and seat her too? I won’t be too long.” He swallowed, earning a nod of approval then rushing towards the men's room.

~ 5 minutes later ~

With a smile painted across your features, you stepped through the doors of the restaurant, looking around the place to capture the sense of atmosphere and energy. You were glad to spot the bar, your tongue craving for something bitter yet sweet to relax your muscles and nerves. Just a little bit of alcohol in your system brought you down from anxiety and it would help in a situation like this. You were jittery and anxious, to say the least, a million thoughts running across your mind. All of what and how the date would turn out; for the best or possibly the worst.

As you’re about to be helped by the host, Bucky treads out from the restroom, peeking over towards his table to see if his date had arrived or not and she hadn’t. Something inside him was relieved but also sad because he wanted to get this night over and done with.

Unable to break his gaze from his table, Bucky hadn’t noticed you were walking in the same direction as he was. Without breaking his stride, he ran into your chest, causing both of you to lose your balance. However, if it wasn’t for Bucky’s swift like movements, he wouldn’t have saved you from falling onto your ass as he firmly gripped your arms and helped you ground your feet onto the surface.

People watched and did nothing, going about their business.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” Bucky spluttered, helping you stand up properly as a wave of utter embarrassment and mortification washed over him.

“No no, I'm sorry. I should've paid close attention,” you said, letting go of Bucky and adjusting the strap of your purse over your shoulder. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, I’m fine. What ab-” Bucky paused, his eyes studying your face once he saw who he had collided into. They widened in shock. A happy shock. His stomach felt heavy with familiarity, lips twitching into a cheeky grin. Words didn’t fall out from his mouth, he just stood there like a love-struck puppy, drenched in bewilderment.

When you don’t hear the man finish his sentence, your brows knit together in confusion, prompting you to look up and see his reasoning. And as you do, you stiffen momentarily before your mind registers what was going on.

“Oh my god,” you breathed with a smile slowly building across your face, heart fluttering with every beat.

It was your knight and shining armor.

“It’s you!” you both marveled in unison, laughing that you said the same thing. It was unbelievable, the realization hitting both of you hard and fast.

“What are you doing here? I mean,” you chuckled breathlessly, scrunching your face at your question, “How is it possible to see you here? It’s not like the city is that small.”

“Trust me, I’m as surprised as you are,” Bucky grinned, his jaw dropping with amusement, but it immediately faints away, remembering his reason for being here tonight.

“I, uh, have a date,” he half-heartedly smiled and ducked his head, shoving his hands in his pockets, the twinkle in his blue orbs losing its shine.

“Oh,” you pouted but forced a smile to hide the disappointment, “Me too. I’m supposed to meet him now but… ,” you chuckled, trailing your words as your gaze traveled across various tables.

Bucky remained quiet, scanning the room himself because the tension between you two increased. Becoming awkward and frustrating.

“I got worried for a sec.” He admitted, breaking the silence.

You turned your attention back on him, eyes raking over his facial features. “And why is that?”

He cocked his head, “I thought it was the same guy from last night.” Bucky smirked, recalling the incident.

“Oh god no! Why would I after his behavior,” you laughed, placing your hands on your chest. Lips urged to smile hard but you bit it from doing so, feeling your cheeks warm up in the presence of Bucky. You both stared at each other with soft eyes, silence casting its blanket over you two again but a good kind.

The host cleared his throat, pursing his lips with a grin as his eyes darted between you and Bucky. Realizing what time it was, you snapped back to the depressing depths of reality. “Well, I don’t want to keep your date waiting.”

“Neither do I,” Bucky swallowed, turning his attention to the host.

“Please, would you both come with me and I’ll escort you to your table,” he informed, earning confused looks from you and Bucky.

Assuming the host would guide both of you to your appropriate tables, you quietly follow the gentleman before sensing something was way off. Hesitantly, you peered over at Bucky who had the same look as you did, a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

As the distance to the table grew closer and closer, it clicked in your brains.

“James?”

“Y/N?”

PART 3

___________

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avengerscompound · 5 years ago

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The Tower: Unexpected - 5

The Tower: Unexpected An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist Previous //

Pairing: Avengers x ofc, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 2364

Warnings: Angsty stuff, the boys are mostly still being asshats, pregnancy stuff.

Synopsis: A little over 2 years after moving into the Avengers Tower, Elly finds herself pregnant against the odds. While some are excited, others are terrified, and pregnancy that none expected to happen causes rifts through the group and threatens to end the relationship.

Author’s Note: Written with my muse @fanficwriter013

Chapter 5: The Most Fertile Person in the World

It was only a few days later that the OBGyn that Tony had arranged was set up in the Tower and I had my first appointment. Her name was Doctor Schroeder and apparently she was the best in the city and Tony was paying so that by the time of the babies due date, I would be her only patient.

“Mister Stark gave me a rundown on what's happened. So we might start by getting your birth control out. But first. Do you have any questions?” She said as Steve, Wanda, Natasha and I all sat in her exam room. I was sitting in one of those hospital gowns and nothing else. I still hadn’t seen the others. Steve had said Sam had gone to see his family. Natasha assured me Clint was reading because he needed to get his head around the idea he was going to be a parent. Hulk was still around which meant Bruce was not. Bucky was still isolating as was Tony. Except where Steve saw Bucky every day, no one had seen Tony at all.

“What are the odds of this happening?” Steve asked as Wanda gave my hand a squeeze.

“The birth control Doctor Cooper was on was 99% percent effective. They say for every 1000 women on it one gets pregnant every three years. On top of the fact that you men were all on a birth control developed by doctor Banner? Now I have no idea how effective it was because there was a lack of clinical trials but I would say you have a 1 in 2000 chance of this happening really. That baby apparently really really wanted to exist.” Doctor Schroeder explained. I didn’t know if I felt better or worse hearing that. Like if it was the most unlucky thing to happen or maybe I was really lucky.

“And it’s healthy?” Steve asked.

“We’ll need to take a look, but birth control like Doctor Coopers just stops ovulation, it happened anyway. I looked at the kind you are on, and it's similar but with sperm production.” She answered. “Basically you have the guys that are the absolute strongest competitors coming together. It won’t have affected their health.”

The problem was that wasn’t the only thing we had to worry about. I looked at Steve and took a breath. “What - Do you know what will happen if it's - if Steve or Bucky or Bruce are the parent?” I asked.

She sighed. “That I can't tell you. We will monitor things carefully. As you know we can narrow it down if you want, so we know if we have anything extra to be concerned about.”

“I'm here,” Steve said. “You can take a sample - a small sample - for comparisons.”

“I thought you didn't want to know?” I said.

“If there is an issue with health, for the sake of your sanity. We should do it.” He said rubbing my leg. “But I do not want to know. That baby will be all of ours, no matter the parentage.”

“Okay. Well, how about this, I'll work out if the baby is genetically either yours, Sergeant Barnes, or Doctor Banner's when he returns, and then I'll know if there's something to keep an eye on, but I won't pass that along unless I have to?” She suggested.

Steve gave a curt nod. “I agree to these terms.”

“Alright. If there’s nothing else for the moment we’ll start by taking the birth control out. Then I’ll take some blood samples and then we can take a look. See who we’re dealing with in there.” She said.

“I’m good if you are,” Nat said to me. I got up on the examination chair and Wanda sat beside me holding my arm as Doctor Schroeder took blood samples, gave me a local anesthetic and took out the implant before sewing it up with paper stitches and putting gauze over it.

She then took a few vials of blood from Steve and explained that the earliest she could do paternity was eight weeks and that she would make a plan for that based on how far along I was now.

“Okay,” She said after she’d cleaned everything away and brought the ultrasound machine closer. “Are we ready to see the baby?” We all nodded in agreement. “Elly, I need you to lie back and spread your legs.” She said adjusting the chair back and lying a blanket over me. Wanda took my hand as Doctor Schroeder prepared the probe. “This is going to be a little uncomfortable.” She said and inserted the probe. I winced. For such a tiny thing, it pinched, that’s for sure. She shifted it around inside me at weird angles that were far from pleasant feeling. Wanda seemed to send a calming energy into me, though, and I felt her tell me she was right there, clear as if she said it out loud.

“You’re doing great, Elly. I know this isn’t fun. But look, can you see this funny little peanut shape. That’s your baby.” She said.

I looked up at the screen and saw what looked like two large black spaces in a sea of white static. To the bottom of each was a small kidney bean shaped thing with a little fluttering spot right in the middle of it. I felt the sudden urge to cry and I wasn’t even sure what I was looking at. “But there’s two,” I said.

“That’s because there are two of them. Can you see the flutter?” She said circling the spots in the middle of the kidney beans. “That’s their heartbeats. You are actually having twins.”

“Twins?” Wanda asked, her voice slightly shaky. I knew this was big for her, being a twin herself and losing her brother. “We're having twins?”

“You are,” She said moving the probe around a little. “It looks like they are fraternal too which has just blown your odds through the roof to astronomical levels. It also makes the paternity a little more complicated.”

I stared blankly at the screen. How could this be happening? I had to be the most fertile person in the world. If the other’s freaked out the way they had been about one, they were going to completely cut and run with two.

“Did you just say, that they could have two different dads?” Natasha asked, looking up at the screen.

“It’s certainly possible. It really depends on what happened here that made two different birth controls ineffective. Did one of you just forget to take it around the time her cycle rejected hers? Or do we have a case of two different lucky swimmers from two different people?” She said as she started taking measurements. “We’ll definitely have to keep a close eye on them until we figure this out. If you have one supersoldier and one baseline human their development rates could be drastically different or the super could steal the nutrients from the other. That isn’t uncommon with twins.”

“So, this is going to make things more difficult?” Steve asked. He looked a little like a deer in headlights. I recognized that look of guilt on his face. I could only imagine that he thought one of them was his and it was going to cause issues.

“Twins never make it easier.” She said jokingly. “We will work this out though. I promise. If the blood tests aren’t conclusive there are other options. We’ll monitor things closely either way.”

“Twins…” Wanda said, her hand going to my stomach.

Doctor Schroeder did a few more measurements and looked at me. “I would put them at seven weeks. Does that sound right?”

I nodded, of course, they were. “Right when Thor was here.”

She shook her head and let out a laugh. “So potential demigods too. You’re really making me earn my money here.” She said. “Would you like to hear their heartbeats?”

“Yes, we do,” Natasha said before any of the rest of us had a chance.

She flicked a switch and the room is filled with a loud swoosh swoosh sound. All four of our faces lit up at the sound. There was something about hearing it that made it very real and not just this abstract ‘scary thing’. “That’s their hearts. Going right in the zone we want them. They look very healthy.”

“We're gonna have twins, El,” Wanda said squeezing my hand.

“I know. Maybe it will be a boy and a girl like you and Pietro.” I said.

I didn’t think Wanda’s smile could get any bigger but it did right then. “Maybe.”

Doctor Schroeder moved the probe around a little more before removing it. “We’re done. Did you want a print out of the babies?”

“Yes. A couple please.” I say thinking about how the Hulk would want one.

Doctor Schroeder pushed a button on the machine and it began to whir as it printed out the pictures. “Keep that wound clean. I’ll need to take more blood in a couple of weeks for the DNA, and then we’ll have another appointment in say, 4 weeks to see how they’re developing. I’ll need to see Sgt Barnes for a blood test. I know Doctor Banner isn’t exactly here with us right now do you think the Hulk will let me take blood?”

“I think it'd be best if you let me try and do that,” Natasha said.

“Thank you. Given that Thor is a potential biological parent here if there is any way you can get a blood sample from him too. Otherwise, if it's not one of the three of you, I'll need to test everyone to rule him out.” She said as I began to dress in my regular clothes.

“We'll take care of it,” Nat assured her.

“Elly, here is a list of things you should be taking and avoiding. Plus some birthing options.” She said holding up a packet and giving it to Wanda. “Are there any other questions?” Wanda looked back at me and shook her head. “Well, it was nice to see you. I'm on call now, so if you need me for anything don't hesitate.”

I finished getting dressed and the four of us headed back out to the elevator. “Are you hungry, El?” Wanda asked.

“Yeah, a little,” I said not fully paying attention. “Twins…”

“I’ll make you something.” She said.

“Thanks. I guess… I guess I have more news to give people.” I said.

“I'm going to go get that sample from Hulk,” Natasha said. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah. I will be. You should take one of the pictures to him,” I said tearing off one of the ultrasound pictures and giving it to her. “He wanted to see, so it might help keep him calm. Tell him it's twins and he can come talk to them after if he wants.”

“Okay,” Nat said taking it. “I'll do that.”

“Thank you, Tasha. Thanks for coming with me.”

She kissed my cheek as the elevator stopped on Bruce’s floor. “Of course, honey. I'm going to talk to Clint too. And then I'll be back up.”

She got off and the doors closed as we traveled up to the common floor. Almost as soon as the doors closed, I felt an overwhelming urge to cry. It had been bad enough telling everyone that it was one. Now I had to do it again and tell them there was going to be two. I turned to Steve and fell against him hiding my face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around me and stroked my hair “It’s okay, El. I’ve got you.” He said, in his deep rich voice.

“Thank you. I can't believe it's twins. I feel like Loki is messing with us or something.” I said through a shaky voice. Only barely keeping the tears in.

“Well, we can ask Thor.” He said gently.

“Yeah. I guess so. Can Loki do that? Just mess with our birth control?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, sweetheart.”

The elevator stopped and I pulled away from him taking out the paperwork from the packet to distract myself with as Wanda went to the kitchen. “There are a few things to get,” I said sitting down.

“I can handle that if you like.” He said.

I shrugged. “I’ll just add them to FRIDAY’s list. It can come in the next delivery.”

“Okay. That should work.” He said sitting down beside me.

I ran my hands over my stomach and looked down at it. “There are two people in there,” I said. “I have 3 times as many skeletons as most people.”

He shook his head and stifled a laugh. “You’re such a dork.” His hand went to my stomach and he linked his fingers with mine. “They’re going to be very loved and well cared for. You don’t have to worry.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna get really huge.”

“Is there a point to that, El?” He asked.

“Just ... I don't know. What if... And then after…”

He kissed my temple. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“What if no one wants to be with me after this?”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

The tears came then. Fat drops running down my cheeks. “Well? I mean even taking out the fact I'm going to be massive, I apparently am the most fertile person in the planet.”

“Elly,” He said pulling me into his arms. “We're gonna deal with this. You've got us. Forever.”

“What if I'm not good at this? I didn't exactly have very good role models.”

“Neither did I,” He said. “Come on, honey. You need to just let yourself process this. I know it hasn’t exactly gone smoothly, but this is good news.”

“What are we going to tell the others?” I asked. “How am I going to tell them if they won’t even come near me?”

“They will. They love you, honey. Everyone loves you. They don’t mean to be hurting you like this.” He assured me. “When they’re ready to hear you can tell them.”

“How will I even know they’re ready?” I asked.

He kissed the top of my head. “They’ll come to you. Don’t worry.”

// NEXT

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evien-stark · 4 years ago

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✧I Need You✧ Chapter 154

Every single part of you was screaming that this was the beginning of the end. The beginning of something terrible. Bruce couldn’t even look at you. JARVIS had been machining some sort of temporary housing for… whatever the hell had been inside that scepter compartment. And Tony had remained as distant as possible as he ran cleanup and made sure everyone stayed clear of the labs. Little accident he’d said, and promised everything was okay. You’d been relegated to sitting on a stool, holding a cloth against your nose to stem the flow of blood. Eventually the leak stopped.

Just as Tony stepped back in and closed the doors behind him. He stayed there, facing away, gathering himself. You allowed him a moment. Mostly because you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to hear what he had to say. But when he was finished, he walked down the steps. “Before we start...” Very promising, for sure. “Can you just try to walk me through what you were doing?”

With the scepter, he meant. Obviously. “I don’t know.” As honestly as you could. Even if the answer was unsatisfying. “I don’t wanna say something like it was calling to me but I guess it was something close.” And you’d answered whether you’d wanted to or not. And you really hadn’t. But that didn’t matter much now.

Bruce and Tony shared a look between each other. Telling. But then Bruce looked away, leaving Tony to figure out how he was going to say whatever it was he was going to say. And the longer he waited the more anxious you became. Until eventually he admitted- “I actually don’t know where to start.” It was very strange to see Tony so out of sorts. Struggling like this.

“Just tell me what’s going on.” Trying and failing to not get agitated. But his anxieties were working your own up. You didn’t like this. Whatever this was. “...please.”

He looked at you. Very, very briefly. But his eyes dropped after a few seconds. Guilt was wracking his entire being. Standing a little closer to Bruce, he pulled something up on one of the screens and then directed it into the air. Graphs. Data. Equations. With your name on them. You didn’t know what you were looking at. So you waited as patiently as possible for him to figure out how to talk.

And once he did, there was no going back.

“I don’t know how to quantify your powers. I never have. It’s not something that seems like I can break down no matter how much science I apply to it. But this-” He waved a hand over what you were starting to realize was a graph of dates. “-this I thought I could try to make sense out of. They’re- …” He sighed. Frustrated. “You have a unique gamma signature.”

He’d begun pacing around the room in slow, calculated movements. One step after the other. You stayed seated but watched him, and wrung your hands tightly together in your lap. Waiting more until he spoke again. “When you do whatever it is you do, you signal that pulse. It’s not radiation- you’re not leaking anything- at least not anything dangerous- it’s more like an identifier. I tried tests on Steve and he comes out clean. Thor does, too. And Bruce-” The two looked at each other again. “You’d think- at least I did- considering the accident had everything to do with gamma- that he’d be a little more similar. But he’s not.

I wanted more time- to figure this out- to make it make sense. No one has a signature like yours, but…”

This was all too much to take in. You didn’t know how to begin to think about any of this. Tony had been running tests? No. Not just Tony. Your gaze shifted over. “You’ve been working with him on this.” Tony had kept this from you but had been working with Bruce. Something familiar pinged you. A friendly face standing over your bedside as you’d just come out of a battle with Extremis.

What are you doing?

Checking your levels. Most of it is out of your system by now, I was just making sure things are on the straight and narrow.

He looked at you and then dropped his head again. “Yeah, well… I suppose I was the leading expert on gamma radiation at the time.”

They’re hoping I can track it. This thing is throwing out gamma radiation. Might be why they’re looking into this Banner guy.

What had brought them together in the first place. You felt yourself going a little numb- and dizzy- as the wheels started spinning. Tony was talking again. “Up until very recently, your signature was totally unique.” Shifting his hand flat across the air as he said this. He then pulled something else off one of the screens. Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, to be precise. “Until them.”

Bruce startled you when he followed up, “The signatures aren’t the same, but they have the same sort of frequency- theirs are a little more on the loud side- they’re just starting out I think. You’re becoming more nuanced-”

I wasn’t sure where you two were vacationing...

That’s how they’d found the scepter. Bruce had tracked them and almost mistakenly thought it was you. And that wasn’t the first time either. Events were slamming your memory. They’d broken the dam.

Gravitational anomaly has subsided, sir. I’m tracking the flux of gamma radiation now. JARVIS, where is Ms. INY?

That time they’d been tracking that thing- the problem Thor had dragged to earth-

Your feet found you first and you held a hand up to signal that you in no way wanted either of them to come close to you. The feeling of wanting to press yourself into the corner- or maybe run for the door- was suddenly very strong. “Who else knows about this?” How long was the list of people that knew something so intimate about you-

“SHIELD knew.” Tony saying this was like delivering a blow to your gut. “It’s how they tracked you.”

“Oh my god.” The words slipped out of you as you reached out to put one hand on the nearest table to brace yourself. Something you’d been doing a lot recently. SHIELD knew. Nick knew. “How?”

“They came right after the incident with your professor-” Tony tried to answer.

But you cut him off. “No- how- only you have been working on this gamma signature stuff right? So how...”

You were unwinding very quickly. It wasn’t clicking just yet. Tony seemed stuck. You couldn’t bear to look at him. Bruce’s voice filled the room. “As much as we’ve hypothesized… the only thing that seems to make sense is that the Tesseract was in friendly hands since 1946. The Maximoff’s signatures are close to the scepter, but not quite. And yours are… close but not quite. We’re not sure yet what links them. But they’re the only signatures like it on earth.”

Earlier today- I’ve been thinking about it- you said Banner and I already found the scepter once. Were you thinking of the Tesseract?

He hadn’t been worried about your brain being muddled that day- he’d been worrying that he’d gotten caught. Even though Bruce was the last to speak, you were looking at Tony. “Are you sure about this?”

You wanted him to tell you no. That he wasn’t sure about anything. And they weren’t, really, right? That’s why they’d been hiding it? Tony wanted more time to do the math- that’s the gist of what he’d said- but- but- “They have redacted files on a girl.” He pulled this onto holodisplay, too. Tone empty. Body full of regret that you had no time for right now.

Redacted was an understatement. It was basically twenty pages all blacked out except for a single paragraph about the Tesseract- a subject number- a subject gender- and a date- 1990.

“Running theory… either she was another experiment. ...or she was you. In case of the former, we think whatever they were doing with her… it had something to do with whatever they did to you. And their lead researcher died not too long after their trail went cold on you. Which wouldn’t matter anyway- their research was extremely limited. And their methods were lacking. Which might explain why they lost sight of you. Until- ...well.” Well was right. Because if that was even a little bit true, Tony outing himself might have been the reason SHIELD had picked you back up.

Bruce’s voice piped back in and there was a little bit of frantic energy that seemed to be bouncing between the two of them. He started speaking very rapidly, pointing at some of their research, moving it around as he did. Almost like he was hosting a lecture. Like you were some animal in a fucking zoo. “Biologically speaking, you’ve only just started peaking- your cell cycle is unlike anything we’ve ever seen and the senescence is slowing. But every time you get in contact with one of the theorized originating power sources there’s a biological shift. And stressors in your environment have been having a huge impact, too. You’re almost like a walking case study on the man-made Super Serum vs an alien environmental stew. We’ve actually been able to expand quite a lot on the-”

“Is this fun for you?” You didn’t recognize the utterly angry tone of your voice, especially not when it was addressed towards either of them. You loved these men, truly. But they were talking at each other- about you- you just couldn’t take it anymore. “Is my life a fun little project for you guys?” This was… this was too much for you.

Who were these people? You were entirely sure you had no idea anymore.

You’d stopped them both cold. The feeling nearly dragging them to the floor was something beyond guilt at this point. They felt terrible. Maybe they were only now waking up to what they’d been doing- or who they’d been doing it to. Who could say?

You know the chances of them trying to turn you into a science experiment are fairly high, right? So what happened to you? Some sort of experiment gone wrong?

Were you a lab experiment? SHIELD? Or someone else? Because really, it’s remarkable. Your powers. Tell me. Where did they come from? Some experiment gone awry?

Just uh- real quick… you weren’t- you don’t remember being tested on in a grungy government lab or anything, right?

Voices were assaulting you. Good god… how long had this been staring you in the face? “So what-” You spit this out as another hot flash of anger took a much easier hold in place of shock that had worn you out. “For years you thought I was some- what- some freak SHIELD lab accident powered by some alien source and you were never going to tell me?” You went a little weak after letting all of that out, denial easy. “No. No. I wasn’t- I’d remember that-”

You hadn’t grown up in a lab. You’d had parents. You- Tony finally was staring at you. “We never talk about your past.”

Your hand waved very dismissively at him. “That doesn’t mean anything- this can’t be right-” You remembered your parents. You also remembered them dying. You remembered that pain. And… in between there and college-

...why couldn’t you remember anymore?

“Maybe it’s not. We don’t have all the data.” Tony was an arm’s length away. And every part of him was screaming that he needed to reach out and find you. So loud you could hear it. Because you were drifting away from him. Rightfully so. “And I’ve spent a lot of time trying to make sure SHIELD was convinced otherwise, too.” The way he said this was so weird. Like he was admitting that guilt as much as he was trying to take praise for protecting you from something you didn’t even know about.

...you really wished he hadn’t said that. And you wished you hadn’t seen the quick drop of his eyes to the Reactor glowing on your chest, and then pulling away in the next second.

It was to prove Fury wrong, more than anything. Bring the Reactor. Let me take a quick run through of your suit, then. Put it on. And… don’t take it off until we’re debriefed. Promise me. You didn’t take the Reactor. Where’s yours? In a drawer somewhere?

You fixed the suits? - Yours first. I… had a deal. With Fury. Before any of this. If he wanted us to keep working for him, he had to purge all mentions of that stuff. You worry about me- and I’ll worry about you.

Every time Tony had prioritized your suit over his- or worried why you weren’t wearing your Reactor- or made some necessary upgrade to it- or-

“This?” Asking him very meekly as you reached up and took it off your chest. “You’ve been- what- hiding my signature- with this?” Something else even more terrible hit you next.

Tell me, how did you find her? Oh? Tell me about that. Very interesting. Very interesting.

“Oh god- Kilgrave knew about this before I did?” You really were five seconds from a full on meltdown.

Hey… what was the reason you showed up at that place in Brooklyn anyway? I’m assuming following some lead- neighbors heard screaming or something- saw me in a window? He just told me to go. The longer time passes the more I’m losing on the event, but- you know Tony. I’m sure he had drones out all over the city. Probably was a noise complaint he caught on a police scanner. He was taking any lead he could get at that point.

Kilgrave had known more about you than you knew about you. And Bruce had lied right to your face. How was that okay? How was that right? You just barely noticed Tony’s head turning up, directing a very sharp look at Bruce. Oh good. So at least you weren’t the only one not in the loop. Not the only one being lied to all the time. Apparently Tony didn’t know that either. But he knew just enough to put the pieces together finally.

You were pretty sure you were going to be sick. This was too much to take in. You didn’t want any part of it, really. It was unfair- and- … “You’ve been hiding this from me this whole time?” Asking the both of them, but really just Tony. Because the both of you had promised each other a very long time ago not to do this. “Why couldn’t you- why didn’t you ever say anything? Were you never planning on telling me?”

It was more shame now, but still the guilt was heavy too. So much so that it covered that warm light you used to know. He just felt… cold now. “I wanted to figure it out for you. I wanted to be able to give this to you with all the answers. I didn’t- ...I wasn’t hiding it because you were a science project- if that’s what you think- I just wanted to be sure. The last thing I wanted to do was scare you and have nothing to show for it.”

“So what’s happening right now.” Tears had started falling. Maybe you’d been crying the whole time. It was hard to tell anymore.

His eyes lowered. “Yeah. What’s happening right now.”

The worst part about this was you believed him. This wasn’t some malicious stunt designed to hurt you. He hadn’t been gleefully keeping this from you because you fascinated him. Science project- ...no that wasn’t what you thought at all. You understood that all of this had been to protect you. He’d been working so hard on doing that. For years now-

And you’d had no idea. Which was why it wasn’t okay.

“You lied to me.” A lie of omission was still a fucking lie. “You knew more about me than I knew about me. How is that fair, Tony?”

For a sliver of time, you almost wanted him to fight back. So that you could release some of this awfulness. But resignation held him deeply. “It’s not.” You couldn’t be here anymore. You couldn’t stand to look at him right now. It was that thought that had you turning away, and pain crackled through you as he snapped out to grab you. “Honey-” Not physical pain.

Just every other pain imaginable.

As carefully as you could manage, so as to not devolve further, you took a breath and then leveled your eyes with him. You weren’t sure you had enough bravery in you to make the request that you did, “Let me go.” Somehow you managed. And stood still while he held on to you. While he cracked at the edges and felt the flutter of panic from him. The realization that he’d created a problem he might not be able to fix now. ...one that was detrimental to the both of you. You were suddenly mirroring each other’s heartbreak. But finally he released you, hands up flat in a sign of defeat, and you shuffled away, feeling like you were dropping pieces of you with every step. Barely pieced together rag doll that you now knew you were- stuffing falling out now that you’d been ripped open. At the door you hesitated. And still didn’t look at either of them as you asked again, “Who else knows about this?”

The entire team? The entire fucking world, perhaps? Everyone except you knew you were some lab accident involving some alien tech?

Tony’s answer didn’t make you feel any better. “Fury had some idea. I don’t know how much. Not the whole picture, at least. A lot of your files were redacted- ...even before I got to them. ...besides him, it’s just me and Bruce.”

You really had to gather yourself together to not just crumble right there. “I need some time. I need… I need time to think about all this.” You didn’t wait around long after saying that, pulling the door open and closing it carefully behind you. Your march up to the penthouse was long and arduous, and you felt yourself floating further and further away. You caught sight of yourself in the bedroom mirror.

What even were you? Would you ever know? ...did you want to?

You collapsed onto the bed and curled up on your side, not knowing what to do. What to feel. What to think. So it was nice… when it all just sort of went away. You weren’t there, really. You just-

“Ms. INY…” JARVIS unfairly yanked you back to a place you didn’t want to be. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

The stupidest question of the night came out of your mouth. “Did you know about this, JARVIS?” Of course he did. Tony had been working on this. That meant JARVIS was involved in every possible way. But you just sort of wanted one last confirmation of betrayal.

Even if he was a program. And he couldn’t do that.

“...yes, ma’am. I knew.”

No. JARVIS couldn’t do that. But Tony could. Tony ordered his silence. Just like he’d done the same to Bruce, you were sure. Maybe he never would have told you. Maybe he never would have figured this out- he still hadn’t- and just never said anything to you for the rest of forever.

A part of you wished that had been the case.

You curled into a tighter ball. “Please just leave me alone, JARVIS.”

“...I understand, ma’am.”

You didn’t want to do what you did next. But it was inevitable. Yet even sobbing didn’t even bring much relief.

–

Tony’s legs gave out as soon as that door closed behind her. She’d sapped the rest of his energy. Had taken a huge chunk of him with her- and she didn’t even want it. He was lucky to find a chair right beneath him, but maybe the floor would have been better.

Inching forward as his spine bent, he put his head in his hands, gaze downward but wholly unseeing. His brain was chugging so loud he thought his eardrums might explode. What are you going to do now?What should you do now?How will you fix this?What if it can’t be fixed?This is what you deserve.You should have come clean.You hurt her.You promised never to do that.What if she leaves?What about Ultron?The clock is ticking.Time is running out.What about her?What about her?They’re coming.What about her?

“Tony-” Bruce had a hand on his shoulder and Tony shot back, sitting straight up as he put a hand heavy on his chest, rubbing, itching, scratching- while he felt his heart thudding a painful disconnected rhythm- his other arm swept out, knocking Bruce off him, something about the touch overwhelming his senses and sending him into overdrive.

He couldn’t breathe. “I just- I need a minute-” He needed a minute. And she needed time. Panic had a hard hold of him. His vision tunneled.

They’recomingthey’recoming whataboutUltron whatabouther whatifsheleaves youdon’tdeserveher whataboutULTRON myfaultmyfaultmyfault

“Easy, Tony- come on-”

He was going to lose her. The earth was going to lose something greater. Which point came first?

He needed her. He needed her right now. He was being sucked into a vacuum of space he wasn’t sure he could pull out of. Not without her help. Her guidance. Her love. But he’d shattered her trust. He’d hurt her- What if she never came back? Bruce’s voice warbled beyond his comprehension as his thoughts circled the drain.

Somethingiscoming Somethingiscoming

Time was running out. Tony couldn’t breathe. Maybe worst of all, he couldn’t think.

How was he supposed to fix a problem like this? What would happen if he couldn’t?

#Tony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #INY Chapter One Hundred Fifty Four #I feel like I should put #INY SPOILERS #lmao that's a strange thing to do but #we are in a huge moment that has had 150 chapters of build up #so #maybe it's fair

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s4msepiol · 5 years ago

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Headcanon #3 | Valedictorian

Title: Valedictorian

Type: Fluff

Prompt: What kind of student was he in high school / college and how the two of you met.

Pairing: Elliot | Josh | Steve | Finn | Reader

Elliot and you were in computer class together.

No need to say that he was there just for the diploma, his IT skills being already better than the teacher’s ones.

Elliot always sat at the computer at the very back of the class, not bothering with putting his hood down unless he was asked to.

You could count on one hand the number of times you had heard Elliot’s raspy voice.

Even for the roll call, he would just raise his hand in the air at the mention of his name.

The few times Elliot granted you the sound of his voice was when the teacher, thinking that Elliot wasn’t paying attention and annoyed by his skills, tried to catch him off guard by asking him a trick question about this or that type of malware.

Questions to which Elliot always responded correctly without even having to think about it.

The two of you got closer on a Monday.

You were struggling with a particularly hard exercise. You had to find the security breach of a software before the virus destroyed all data on the computer.

Elliot didn’t help you at first. He stayed there, silent, staring at nothing but your face and your hands on the keyboard.

You find the security breach pretty quickly.

The hardest part was to destroy the virus all the while protecting the data in a minimum of time.

Every student but you had given up.

And just when you were about to do so, you felt someone move behind your back.

Elliot passed his arms above you to have access to your keyboard.

“Okay… so your code is good, very good actually. All you gotta do now is to redirect the traffic to a zone that isn’t damaged yet and…”

“… stop the virus before it reaches that zone.”

“Exactly.” Elliot said with a soft smile, suddenly feeling a little less lonely in the classroom.

“Thank you, Elliot.”

“That’s nothing… I’m sure you would have figured it out without my help.” He answered as the bell rang.

From that day, Elliot and you sat next to each other at the back of the class, not saying a word to each other most of the time but exchanging knowing glances whenever the teacher would come back to Elliot with his trick questions.

And before you even noticed it, this course turned into a private lesson between Elliot and you while the other students followed the academic program.

“Y/N, you’re sure you don’t want to follow the ‘regular’ program? I mean… I won’t be offended if you decided to.” Elliot whispered while you were coding all the while keeping an eye on the teacher for him not to notice what the two of you were up to.

“Elliot… He’s teaching them how to create a website and you’re teaching me how to hack it. Trust me, I’m having way more fun than them at the moment.” You answered (pretending not to see the smile that was creeping onto Elliot’s face), your eyes glued to the screen not to make a mistake that could be lethal to your program.

The closer the end of the year was getting; the more comfortable Elliot was getting with you.

He finished the final test an hour before everyone else.

You totally aced your final thanks to Elliot’s help, even though you were quite sad at the idea of no longer seeing him once a week.

He waited outside the class for you to finish the test.

“So… How did it go?” He asked you the minute you passed the door.

“Pretty good actually, even though I’m convinced that having you as a ‘private tutor’ gave me a clear advantage over others.”

“Trust me, I have nothing to do with that… They’re idiots and …you’re not.” Elliot answered low avoiding your gaze.

And just when you were about to leave, Elliot said:

“Hum Y/N… I thought that… maybe we could keep on with our private lessons… Not that you need it, that’s not what I mean but… I just thought that… Shit…”

“I would love to.” You interrupted him before he got himself even more uncomfortable. “What do you think about that coffee shop on the 4th Avenue, the WIFI is fast and their coffee is to die for.”

“It sounds all right to me.” Elliot stated before the two of you headed to the coffee shop.

Josh and you were in a class called “Introduction to Motion Picture Directing 101” together.

He was, besides you, the only student that hadn’t enrolled this course thinking that it would consist in watching movies and sleeping at the back of the class.

You met Josh on a Tuesday.

“Excuse me, Y/N is that it? Mind if I sit here?” Josh asked you a few minutes before class started.

“No, no please do.” You answered with a soft smile.

Josh sat next to you and stared at you for a minute, as if he was searching for something to say, but just when he was about to speak the teacher entered the room.

Josh was really focused on the course, noting down everything the teacher said.

“Now, can anybody tell me who popularized the dolly zoom and explain this technique in a few words for the dunces at the back of the class?”

Not wanting to bring attention to yourself, you simply wrote those words on your notebook: Hitchcock = Moving away + Zooming In.

“Come on, my five-year-old daughter could answer that… How do you want to work in this industry if you’re not even able to…”

“Hitchcock.” Josh answered all of a sudden, making you smirk. “It basically consists in moving the camera away from the subject whilst zooming in.” He finished.

“Good. Very good. In what movie did he first use it?”

“Vertigo. But I prefer the way Tobe Hooper uses it in Poltergeist.”

You instantly liked how spontaneous he was when speaking, not boasting or pontificating, just talking about something he was passionate about.

One morning you were standing at your locker to organize your books for your morning classes when Josh came to you.

“You had the answer the other day, in class, but you didn’t say it.”

“This kind of icebreaker is great for movies Washington, but in real life most people stick to ‘hello’.”

“Alright. I get it. Don’t want people to know you’re smart.” He stated, leaning against the locker next to yours.

“You just have me all figured out, huh?”

“Not at all, but smart and pretty that’s something I don’t get to see very often.”

“You’re gonna be a great director Washington, but honestly, delegate the dialogue writing to someone else.” You retorted, softly tapping on his shoulder before grabbing your books and heading to your next class.

Getting out of your French class you ran into Josh again.

“So French, huh? I figured you’d be more into math or something.” Josh declared, walking with you to the class you shared.

“Please tell me you didn’t just time that so I’d walk right past you.”

“You know that guy that works three hours a day at the reception: fairly tall, puny, glasses?”

“The secretary’s starter pack, in short.” You answered, making him laugh as he opened the door of the classroom for you.

“Well… He might happen to be my best friend, and he might have been able to get me your schedule…” He started, suddenly interrupted by the astounded look on your face.

“Okay… Granted, this totally sounds weird but before you say anything, just know that I only did this with noble attentions.” Josh explained, whispering for the teacher not to notice the two of you.

“Yeah, who knows? I could get sucked into the Matrix during lunch break.” You retorted whispering, nervously tapping your pencil against your notebook.

You couldn’t tell how or why but Josh was slowly growing on you.

“Okay, what I would like you to do for next week is to put yourselves into groups of two and write a ten-page synopsis for the sequel to the movie of your choice.” The teacher explained.

After class, Josh caught up with you in the hallway.

“Usual Suspects, Leon the Professional or Pulp Fiction. Interstellar, why not but there’s no way we’re gonna be able to learn everything about quantum physic in less than a week.” You said low, lost deep in your thoughts.

“Wait, you’re being serious? I thought I’d have to beg you for an entire week for you to work with me.”

“Let’s review my options: I have the choice between that weird guy at the last row who’s probably gonna want to write a sequel for a porn he would have seen the night before, Blondie at the first row who secretly dreams to write an umpteenth sequel for Twilight and… you: who, despite everything, probably stays the only person in that class that is really passionate about this course.”

Josh stayed there, a dumb smile plastered on his face.

“Please say something or I’m gonna start to think that this Twilight thing isn’t that bad.”

“The word ‘porn’ has never sounded better than from your lips.”

Working on that project with Josh has been a total mess.

You can’t quite tell when you realized this wouldn’t go as any other group project.

Maybe it was when you accepted that the two of you would work at his place.

“And… we’re almost done, only one page left.” You stated as you finished typing the sentence Josh was dictating you.

“Cool. Now what would you say of… going to the movie?”

“Josh…”

“Okay. What about… going out and get something to eat?”

“…”

“… or we could just have sex right now, if that’s what you want. Wait… No, forget that. I got a better idea. What if I introduced you to my mother so that we can start looking for a caterer and working on the seating chart?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.” Josh answered with a warm smile. “Except if it’s really bothering you. In that case, you won’t have to ask twice.” He finished on a much more serious tone, putting himself back to work.

“Grab your jacket. They’re showing the new Adam McKay film downtown, if we leave now we should get there before it starts.” You declared, getting up.

Josh’s smile getting so wide at your words.

“You’re sure we don’t have the time for you to meet my mother before?” He asked you, putting his jacket on.

You weren’t sure why you had decided to enroll in a course called Speech 217 ‘The Art of Informal Remarks’.

To be honest the first class you had had with Miss Tainot did nothing but confirm the fact that you should have chosen another option.

And just when you were pondering the idea of switching to another course called Accounting 142 ‘Bookkeeping and Taxation’, you noticed someone even more out of place than you.

Steve got there 30 minutes late.

He tried to take a seat as discretely as possible, but his skateboard decided otherwise.

“Who are you?” The teacher inquired.

“Steve Dibiasi. D-I-B-I-A-S-I.”

“Why are you here, Steve?” Miss Tainot asked the young man.

“Dean of Student Services said your class would change my life.”

You smiled at Steve’s naivety as you were pretty sure you had heard that man say the exact same thing to three other students the day before.

Steve took a seat and spent the rest of the class on his phone.

“Next week, each of you is going to address the class for the first time on a subject of my choice.” Miss Tainot explained, putting an end to the class.

But Steve really first caught your attention on a Wednesday.

You were working on your oral presentation at the library when you noticed Steve working a few tables away from yours.

You can’t really tell what surprised you the most.

Seeing a guy like Steve at the library or the effort he seemed to put in his presentation.

He was surrounded by books about rhetoric and oral speech, each thicker than the other.

Steve looked exhausted. He had been there longer than you had, at least that was what his yawns betrayed.

As it was getting late, you decided to borrow the book you were working on and to go back home.

There were only a few students left at the library. Steve had left a few minutes before, probably realizing that in the battle opposing him to the tiredness he wouldn’t come out a winner.

In the line for book lending, you were once again blaming yourself for not having chosen a course that wouldn’t have implied a bitter teacher and the obligation to do an oral presentation once a week when a familiar voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Mrs., please. I’m having this very important presentation tomorrow in the morning and I really need a good mark in this course if I want to pass this semester.”

“I’m sorry Mr. Dibiasi but that’s our library policy. You can’t borrow more than eight books.” The librarian answered, barely paying attention to the young man standing in front of her.

“Yeah I know, that’s what you’ve been repeating for the past twenty minutes. Mrs, I really need those books, and I was hoping that… you could make an exception, you know like in cases of force majeure…” Steve insisted, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

“Those are the rules. Members can borrow up to eight items from a statewide collection that includes a great range of fiction and non-fiction books, magazines, DVDs and CDs.” The old woman explained on a monotonous tone closer to an automatic answering telephone than to a human.

The sigh Steve gave her in response was more evocative than a thousand words.

“Come on dude… We don’t have all day…” You heard a student say behind you.

“You know what? Forget it. I don’t even know what…” Steve started.

“I’m taking them.” You declared all of a sudden, handing your library card to the woman behind the computer who scanned the books before handing them to you.

“Here… you go.” You declared, placing the books on top of the pile Steve had already in hand.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to.” Steve thanked you, as the two of you got out of the library.

“That’s nothing, really. Their loan policy is bullshit anyway.”

You were about to go home when you were stopped by Steve’s voice.

“Wait! I don’t even know your name!” Steve shouted behind you. By the tone of his voice you could tell he was smiling.

“Y/N!” You shouted in response, before going home.

“…Thank you for your attention.” You finished, concluding your presentation.

While you spoke, Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

“Great work, Y/N. Already looking forward to hearing your next presentation.” Miss Tainot complimented you as you were greeted with a round of applause launched by Steve himself.

“And last but not least… Mr. Dibiasi, it’s your turn.” Miss Tainot announced.

You noticed Steve’s foot was tapping in anxiety.

“Okay, you’re gonna dig it.” He said, probably in an attempt to reassure himself.

“Are you clairvoyant?” Miss Tainot retorted.

“No. Steve Dibiasi.” He answered, making you chuckle.

“… If it was the romance novelist in him that made Victoria, the Queen, such a pal, chalk it up as another brick in the legacy of Ben Disraeli, Earl of Beaconsfield, educator, and Prime Minister of Great Britain!” Steve concluded.

You had to admit that Steve’s speech wasn’t the most formal presentation you had heard in your life but you were sure of two things after listening to him.

One, that he had put all his heart in this presentation and the memory of him at the library did nothing but confirm that.

Two, that no matter how informal his presentation was, it didn’t deserve the mocking laughter that overcame every student but you in the classroom.

You gave him a compassionate smile but that’s what you did next that caught him off guard.

You applauded.

And even though the room was filled with mocking laughter, the sound of your hands was the only sound Steve decided to pay attention to.

The next day, you were heading to one of your classes when someone ran smack into you, knocking your books and papers all over the floor. (s4msepiol, provider of romantic clichés since 1999.)

“Shit… I’m really…” Steve began, interrupting himself midsentence when he realized who he had ‘run into’ “… sorry.”.

“Don’t be. That’s nothing.” You answered as he helped you pick your books.

“No, really. You helped me the other day at the library and… you’re the only one who hadn’t made fun of me yesterday, and here I am ruining your copy of…” He stopped again, midsentence, reading the title on the cover of your book. “… Sybil… by Benjamin Disraeli.” Steve finished, smiling.

Once all your stuff picked up from the floor, you thanked Steve but he stopped you before you could head to your next class.

“Y/N! Wait!” Steve said, making you turn around. “Hum… What would you say of… if we…” He stopped, took a deep breath and went on. “Would you like to go for a drink with me?” He asked you, tightening his grip on his skateboard in anxiety.

“I’d love to.”

Steve gave you for only answer, a smile.

A smile that went clear up to his light green eyes.

“Why are you smiling?” You asked, not caring about the bell indicating that it was high time for you to leave Steve and to go to your next class.

“My pals didn’t believe me when I told them this class would change my life.”

Finn and you were in technology class together.

Most of the time, he would show up 20 minutes late, his t-shirt stained with motor oil.

“Sorry for being late.”

“All right, Finn. Why don’t you take that empty seat next to Y/N, and we’ll get started with the lesson.”

He would usually spend half of the class searching on the internet for spare parts for the car he was working on.

And the other half looking at you, thinking that you were not noticing it and trying (in vain) to find something to say for the two of you to get to know each other.

One Thursday morning, as you parked your car on the campus parking an idiot hit your car.

An idiot whose t-shirt was stained with motor oil.

“It’s official, my parents are gonna kill me.” You said, watching the damages on your back bumper.

“Shit Y/N, you’re okay?” Finn asked you as he got out of his car, not even caring about the damages on his car.

For some reason, his voice was full of concern.

“Yeah, don’t worry. More scared than hurt.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I was paying attention to… something else.” Finn apologized while scrutinizing your face to be sure you weren’t hurt.

“Hey Finn, trust me it’s nothing, I’m fine. Your car took the worst of it actually.”

“Don’t worry about that, that’s nothing. But there’s no way you’re paying for repairing that.” He said showing your back bumper and started looking for something in his backpack.

He took out a pen and a piece of paper that he placed on the hood of his car before starting to write.

“Here take this… Ask for me once you’ll be there.” Finn said with a soft smile, handing you the piece of paper.

You nodded and were about to go to your first class of the day when you heard Finn’s voice behind you.

“Oh and Y/N…”

“Yeah?” You asked, turning around to face him.

“Have a nice day.”

At the end of the day, you drove to the garage.

You were about to enter when you overheard a conversation.

“No, you got to be kiddin’ me.” Someone declared in between waves of laughter. “Okay, so let’s sum up the situation. Finn, a man that repairs cars since he was 12, that went all the way to South Dakota to get his license at 14 and who never had a single ticket in his whole life, you want me to buy that this guy is implied in a fender bender?”

“He hasn’t even told you the best part yet.” Another man said.

“The person driving the other car is the girl he has been telling us about for weeks.” A third man explained, triggering another wave of laughter.

“Okay, okay I see… So now I have two hypotheses and you better tell me the truth.” The first man warned Finn. “Number one, you were driving, you realized she was there and suddenly you just ‘forgot’ how to drive. Number two, you totally did it on purpose so that she’d spend the whole afternoon here with you.”

“Yeah, what girl would say no to ‘Hey! I almost killed you, what about going to the movie?’.” Finn retorted.

“So?”

“So I was driving, I realized she was there and… suddenly my eyes were more focused on her than on the road.”

“Oh men… I think our little Finn is in love.”

“Well, this is a first.”

“Out. All of you. Now. There’s no way you guys are meeting her.”

For some reason, that’s the moment you chose to knock on the metallic door.

“Hey, Y/N.” Finn said with a large smile, dropping everything he was doing to greet you.

“Hey, how you doing?”

“Good.” He seemed nervous. “So what do you say we get started?” Finn asked, showing your car.

“Yeah, totally.”

“So… Finn, aren’t you going to introduce your friend?” The tallest of the three men said while patting Finn’s back.

“Well Y/N, this is Tobey, Pete, Joe and the rude guy over there is Benny, but you can call him Liar One. Guys, this is Y/N.”

After a few jokes at Finn’s expense, the guys decided to go grab a beer.

“Oh and Y/N, keep an eye on him. Finn has been a bit… ‘distracted’ lately.” Tobey joked, exchanging a knowing look with Joe and Benny, before they left.

“Sorry for… that. They’re not used to having a girl around here.” Finn apologized, before he started working on your car.

There was something oddly mesmerizing watching Finn working on that car.

His pants hung low on his hips, his face was covered with motor oil, and he stuck out his tongue from the corner of his mouth when he was concentrating.

“Y/N… Could you hand me the spark plug wrench? It looks like a big…” Finn asked you, stopping midsentence when he noticed you were already handing him the right tool.

“Interesting…” He noted, taking the tool you were handing him.

The two of you spent the evening chatting about this and that while Finn repaired your car.

“Okay… I’m think I’m done.” Finn announced, sliding out from under the car.

“The good news is that it looked much worse than it was.” He explained, standing in front of the car and wiping his hands with an old cloth. “The bad news is that your tail light is dead so I’m gonna have to order the part.”

“Okay. How long do you think it will take?

“Given the model of your car… At least one week but I must admit that I don’t like the idea of you driving without it, especially by night.”

Once again, you noticed an ounce of concern in his voice.

And before you could even mention the concept of ‘taking the bus for a week’, Finn spoke.

“So… what would you say of… me being your private driver for the week? I promise that, apart from this morning incident, I’m the best driver you can find.” He asked you, rubbing his neck before giving you that warm smile that he always had to release the stress of the conversation.

You can’t quite tell why, but answering “no” wasn’t an option.

Maybe it was because of his hopeful eyes.

Or maybe it was because of the conversation you had overheard.

“I must admit that the idea of a private chauffeur is pretty appealing, Finn.”

At first he was somewhat surprised, as if he had expected you to say no.

But then he smiled widely, looking down, still cautiously avoiding your gaze.

And suddenly you wished it would take him an eternity to get that spare part.

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sunnyblackwidow · 5 years ago

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Natasha Romanoff X Reader - Natasha's secret

Sypnosis: For a long time, Natasha has kept you hidden from the outside world. No one but Nick knew about your existence. It was going to change soon when the team was in danger and needed help.

Warnings: Angst(?), fluff, a little bit of smut.

So it's the first story I've written for tumblr and I hope you enjoy it. Please don't forget to let me know what you think, your feedback is what keeps me writing. I'm open to requests so hit me up.

The team had been compromised. They needed a place to hide. Your place was the nearest and the most well equipped. Natasha knew that. She brought them there replying all questions with "We'll be safe there."

Cap had the worst injury and needed to be treated asap, Clint had needed stitches, Tony only had a few bruises due to his suit, Thor was mostly unscathed and your girlfriend, Natasha had a bullet lodged in her thigh.

You were sitting down at your desk doing last minute night work when the front door opened. Your eyes lit up. It meant that Natasha was home. You stepped out to see the Avengers staggering into your living room. They looked visibly startled to see you but didn't say anything. Their eyes held fatigue and you grabbed your coat from behind your door hurriedly.

Your worried eyes scanned for Natasha. She had an arm around Thor and hobbled into the room.

"Baby I'm sorry. I didn't have time to-" she tried to explain but you cut her off.

"It's fine. Sit down guys." You quickly took out your first aid box. The name "First-aid box" gave it no justice as it contained everthing anyone could possibly need from band-aids to sutures and scapels. It even had a comfort toy.

You instructed Clint and Cap to lie down. You quickly strip the dining table of it's decorations and sterilize the surface. You lay down a cloth and tell Clint to sit there while you stitch up his arm. Being the expert that you were, he was good to go in 7 minutes.

As for Cap his wound was much more complicated. Thor carried him to the table. You assessed the injury, set up what you needed and got to work. There was a small shard of the alien like blade lodged into his abdomen. His stomach was punctured but the other organs were all fine. You removed the shard and quickly added gauze around the area. There were no other shards and you quickly and skillfully stitched up his stomach. The stiches were small and precise. The Avengers watched your movements in awe. In no time you had stitched up the tear in his stomach. "Thor" you called out to the man standing next to the machine, "Vitals please."

"Erm lots of numbers.... Which colour ones do you need?"

"Vitals are stable baby. You can stitch him up." Natasha piped in.

You gave a nod and started to suture up the wound. You tried your best to make the wound look pretty and to stitch it up so it wouldn't scar too much. The man had to look pretty. He was Captain America after all. Once you were done with the last stitch you cut the thread and heaved a sigh of relief.

"He'll be much better after some rest. Lay him down on the bed down the hall please. The blue door."

As Thor carried Captain to the spare room, you help Natasha onto the table and sat her down. The bullet was lodged in her upper thigh. Easy to remove and only a about two stitches were needed. It was a simple but painful procedure. As if she could read your thoughts, Natasha said "Just do it Y/N. I can take it."

You looked up to her with a worried expression. "You sure?"

"Go ahead," she said as she pushed her leg towards you.

You breathed deepy and went in with the tweezers. She laid her head on your neck and gripped the back of your shirt as you reached in , gritting her teeth, eyes squeezed shut. As you pulled the bullet out, Natasha screamed and gripped your shirt even tighter. The scream sent chills down your spine hating the fact that your loved one had to feel pain.

She let out the breath she didn't even know she had been holding when the metalic cling of you plopping the bullet into the tray sounded out. Even as you stitched up the wound, she never did let go of your shirt. Only until you were done with the stitches then did she let go. You wrapped up her leg and gave it a gentel pat.

"Good job little red." You said as you said before giving her a peck on lips.

You turned around to see the remaining of the team looking at the two of you, looking like they were going to burst from the number of questions they wanted to ask but refrained from asking.

You didn't even change your gaze as you applied medicinal remedy on all their bruises that would male sure the ugly blue and purple marks would fade within 12 hours. "I'll blow up some beds," you said before walking to the store room the get the inflatable beds that you and Natasha had gotten in case of this kind of emergency.

She had told you when you had started dating that it wasn't an easy path to take when you wanted to date the world's best spy. But you didn't care. Now, you're her everything and she was your world. You trained in the medical line to make sure that if she ever came home injured you could treat her. To make sure that in any situation, she would never leave you as long as she was in your hands.

You fit the beds in the visitors room next to the existing bed which held a sleeping Steve Rogers. You put the other two in the living room.

"You guys can wash up in the toilet. It's in the room Cap's in. Beds are ready but you can sleep anytime you want. I'll go cook something. You boys must be hungry.

You walk to the kitchen to begin cooking up some greens, meat and your secret recipe smoothies used to boost up Nat's strength for the team. Just as you were done searing the steak, Natasha walked in.

"Hey uhm Y/N. I'm really sorry about coming in like this. We just...we just were in a really tight spot and I know you don't-" Natasha tried to explain before you slienced her with a kiss. The kiss turned heated and you lifted her onto the island. She grabbed your face and wrapped her legs around your waist as you slipped your hands around her and pulled her closer. She tasted the same as always, sweet. But this time there was something else that could be felt. Desire.

You hadn't seen each other in months and you two were so deperate to hold each other again. To touch each other again that you completely forgot where you were. All you needed was her. Her touch. Her kiss. Her smell.

All tongues and lips left red. Teeth clashing, tongues brushing. You didn't care about anything as long as she was safe and in your arms.

The sound of someone clearing their throat snapped you and Nat out of the trance you had been in. It was Thor. "I'm sorry lovely lady who's been smooching the all so deadly and private, Natasha Romanoff. But can we take her for just a sec. I promise we'll return her to you."

You blushed furiously and coughed awkwardly unwrapping Natasha's legs which have been tightly holding you in place. "Of course you may, I'll just cook the rest of the food up and we'll eat how does that sound?"

Natasha smirked at your embarassment and gave you a kiss on the cheek before walking off.

Thor turned around and gave a wink before skipping over to the sofa where the concious Avengers were gathered.

You fanned yourself trying to cool down from what had just happened before you cut the steak and set them onto their respective warmed plates, adding the greens as well as some garnishes. You put those in the warmer as you got started on the, as you call it, strength smoothies.

Throwing frozen fruit, vegetables and açaí just to add flavour into the blender, you buzzed the thing up. In about 10 minutes, you had a jug full of the smoothie and put it into the fridge. The Avengers were still talking and so you decided to start washing up. You put all the pots and pans in the sink and slowly scrubbed each and everyone of them. You hummed your favourite song as you cleaned trying to make the process less boring. Once done you wiped it all with a dry, clean towel and put them back in their respective places.

Natasha always liked to call you a perfectionist. Making sure things were neat despite the number of things you had. Your shared bedroom was split into two. The left side hers, and the right side yours. Her side was simplistic. All the basic things like her tools, a gun, black widow bites and a picture frame with the two of you in a lip lock during one of your dates infront of a ferris wheel. Your side however, was a neat mess of photos hung on walls, strings linking them together. A peg board with momentos as well as your drawing of your girlfriend. You can even see the distinct line on the walls where the room was split because in order to save space, you lined the photos up in a straight, vertical line going down from as high as you could reach to the dresser which you two, also shared.

You smiled at the memory of Natasha teasing you about how you might as well decorate the bathroom in half as well with all your antics. Your reply to that was "I would. But then we can never get hot and steamy inside like we always do," which earned you a pinch to your cheek that although painfull, made her so cute that you just had to kiss her.

Snapping out of your flashback, you saw Natasha leaning against the entrance of the kitchen.

"Wake up dreamy. We're done you can cone out now." You can see that she was tired. But her eyes had a green sparkle. Her body was toned and curvy in all the right places making you want to just pounce on her. But you refrained from doing so. Not while everyone was here.

"Yes Ma'am," you said smiling as you put the last pan away and took out the food, balancing three on your right arm and two on your left.

You laid the food out as Natasha handed them the utensils. You went back in to get the drink before all you you sat down around the table and ate dinner.

"Oh my god Nat. You never told us your...." Tony said before pausing. "Roomate, was so good at cooking." He finished with a small smirk.

"That's funny Tony. You see. I don't even remember telling you I *had* said roomate." Natasha replied.

"Well now that you *did*, why not just let the cat out of the bag huh Nat. How long has it been?" Tony asked excitement flowing out of him.

At that moment, Tony looked like a child, giddy with excitement. Curious to know everything around him.

Natasha looked at you and you flashed her an 'it's okay' smile. "It's been two years and a half." She replied flatly.

"Didn't think you of all people would be able to have such a long relationship. Being away so much and all." Thor teased before letting out a groan as Natasha kicked him from under the table.

The others at the table just grinned at this knowing that you and her were serious about the relationship.

The rest of the meal consisted of the Avengers learning more about you, how you met Natasha and as, you quote Tony, "Deal with such a difficult woman".

The crew slowly started to learn about you, what you did for a living and why you were so good at fixing people. Their trust grew as well as certainty that you were, indeed the only one that can make Natasha soft and believed that you were the right one for her.

"Did I miss anything?" Cap's voice rang out as you guys sat around drinking after the dinner.

"Nope," Clint said. "How are you feeling Cap?"

"Better, and curious." Steve replied.

You had gone to the kitched to retrieve his part of the dinner and as you approached him he asked "Who are you and why are you so good at stitching people up?"

"Hi Steve. I'm Y/N. Natasha's girlfriend. I'm trained in all aspects of medical care to make sure that she," you pause and look at Natasha, "Is always safe." You end with a smile looking straight into Steve's eyes.

"Considering that you did such a good job on me, I'm sure Nat's not going to have any problems. Pleased to meet you. I'm Steve Rogers also known as Captain America," he stuck his hand out for a shake.

You grinned and shook his hand thankful that he trusts you with one of his best friends.

"Hey Natasha. I get why you like her so much now. Her smile is entracing isn't it." Steve said as he tucked in.

"Too bad guys. She's mine." Natasha said protectively before pulling you onto the couch, between her legs and hugging you and shooting the men a glare.

#new blog #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #x reader #marvel #natalia alianova romanova #natalie rushman #natasha romanov

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lovemesomerafael · 5 years ago

Text

Others Like Me Chapter 16: Responsibility

Chapters 1 - 15 Read It On AO3

For @nephilimbecomedeviant because who am I to deny the swamp monster?

Barnes isn’t happy. He can see that Marya’s upset and preoccupied, and there’s no doubt in his mind what – or who – that’s about. He purposely hasn’t asked Jarvis if she’s visited Bucky. He’s sure she has, and even though it’s his job, he’d just rather not know at the moment. I know you wouldn’t let her get away with that, Stevie, but that’s what you get for dyin’ on me. Responsibility blows.

He finishes breakfast early and pours another cup of coffee to take with him down to the firing range. He’s in the mood to blast some shit. He’d brought Bucky down to the range the week before, and he can’t remember the last time he’s had such stiff competition. Clint can beat him, but only using arrows. Clint rarely uses guns. Barnes and Bucky have been down here three more times, and Barnes has really enjoyed having someone else to shoot against who – he has to admit, if only to himself – is as good as he is.

But he doesn’t invite Bucky today. He isn’t ready to see him. Barnes knows he’s all twisted up about Marya, and Bucky, and the rift that’s opening up among the Avengers over who Bucky is, and right now he really just needs to clear his mind. Target practice is the best meditation he knows.

So he’s not particularly glad to see Tony show up. Tony’s a fair shot, but it’s not what he does, he just thinks it’s fun. So he’s no competition. He also rarely comes down here, which means he’s here for A Reason. Shit. Barnes cannot get a break.

Tony sets up and gets a few shots in before, inevitably, he starts talking. “You seen Bucky today?”

“Nah. Why?”

“Just wondered. Thought I’d invite him up to my lab today, maybe.”

“Huh.”

There’s a long period punctuated by the sounds of firing before Barnes is empty and pushes the button to bring his paper target back to his firing booth to be replaced. It needs to be, because the holes in the forehead and center mass are the size of quarters, too big now to be a challenging target. Barnes isn’t satisfied with just hitting the right area, hasn’t been for years. He needs to hit the same bullethole every time.

Tony’s obviously been waiting for that, because he steps around the lane divider between their booths. “We gotta figure this out, Barnes.”

“Most of us already have,” Barnes sighs. “You and Natasha are the holdouts. What are you planning to do to him in your lab, play lousy music until he cracks?”

Tony’s voice is low-pitched and more serious than Barnes has heard him in a long time. “He could destroy everything we’ve worked for.”

“He hasn’t so far.”

“Yeah, the Mandarin hasn’t taken over the planet so far, either, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna give him the keys to the tower. Fuckin’ take this seriously, would you?”

When Barnes looks up, Tony actually takes a step backward from the darkly fierce look in his eyes. He holds up his hands in surrender.

“Think about it,” Barnes says, low and growly. “How long do you realistically think you could keep me locked up in here? A day? A week? Your security is the best there is, Stark, and I could bust outta here in an hour. He’s been here three weeks. You been watchin’ him as close as me, you know he knows what’s holdin’ him in here. And he ain’t done a damn thing.”

“Maybe he’s not as good as you.”

“Maybe he is, and he’s not goin’ anywhere, because he’s got nowhere to go.”

“Barnes. There’s no way to know for sure. Ever. Are you really willing to risk all we’ve built – all Rogers built - for this guy?”

It takes everything Barnes has not to swing on Tony for trying to use Steve’s memory to pressure him. Tony can obviously see that, because he takes two steps backward this time.

“What are you suggesting? You gonna kill him? That why you’re inviting him to your lab?”

“I’m not gonna do that unless I have to. I’m just saying, we’ve worked our asses off to put the Avengers Initiative together, to keep ourselves invisible. Now is not the time to let down our guard.”

“My guard ain’t down,” Barnes says quietly, in a way that has Tony considering backing up another step. “Nobody knows who we are. Nobody knows we even exist. How’s this guy come in here knowing everything about us – names, histories, abilities, events even – if he isn’t telling the truth?”

“I don’t know. And that’s the bottom line, Barnes. We don’t know. And things are not getting better in the world, in case you haven’t noticed. We’re stretched to the limit, especially now. I’m sorry to keep reminding you about Rogers; I feel for you, I really do. But without him, I really don’t know how we’re gonna be able to keep taking on the Ten Rings.”

“Maybe we get a new team member.”

“Yeah, ‘cause people like us are so readily available.” Tony’s voice gets harsher and more pressured. He’s losing patience with this whole situation, and it’s making him very anxious, which he Does. Not. Need. “Maybe I’ll check the classifieds: Superhero needs a gig, flexible hours a plus. Has own cape.”

Barnes slams a new magazine into his Beretta and turns back to pin up a new paper target. Just as he’s about to push the button to run it back to the farthest distance, Tony startles him.

“Oh, holy fuck in a life raft.”

Tony’s tone causes Barnes to turn back to look at him.

“You mean him! You want us to make Bucky part of the team!” Tony’s not sure whether he’s more shocked or more disgusted.

“I didn’t say that,” Barnes shrugs. “But we could do worse.”

“I am not fucking hearing this.”

“Just think about it. Do whatever you gotta do, but think about it and don’t do anything permanent without talkin’ to the rest of us.”

“Unbefuckinglievable,” Tony mutters to himself as Barnes’s target reaches its destination.

*****

“I spent some time with this switch,” Tony says, not fooling Bucky for a second with his offhand tone. Tony’s sitting on a high stool in front of a long, cluttered workbench covered with a spectacular assortment of electronic odds and ends, turning the switch around in his fingers. Bucky stands nearby, nervously fiddling with what looks like dismantled small engines and robot parts.

“And?”

“And it’s been used. The same way Marya’s was. It has the same pattern of arcing. Yours had some energy dampeners hers didn’t, that’s why your landing was a little softer than hers -”

“Wait… My landing was softer than hers?“

“Hell, yeah. Not only did she get crunched – her leg bones cracked like eggshells - she also got burned. Not to mention that she crash landed within sight of Stonehenge and a whole busload of tourists saw it. Just lucky no one got video, and all the blood kind of camouflaged that hair of hers. Anyway, I gotta hand it to myself, I really am brilliant. This negative feedback loop with…” Tony goes on for quite some time, praising himself and whatever he’s found in the switch. Bucky listens, but not very hard.

“I don’t know what any of that means,” he says, when Tony stops to breathe and looks up at him. “I told you, I just followed the directions to make it. I understood maybe a tenth of our Stark’s notes, just enough to think it could work.”

“So you don’t agree with what I just said?”

“Stark, I don’t know what you just said.”

“Huh. Good. Because it was all bullshit. Now tell me about the trip. You flip the switch, and what happens? Be detailed, this is for science.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Ever been in a blender? Kinda like that.”

“What did you see?”

“Nothing.”

“What does that mean? It was all black? You couldn’t understand what you were seeing? What?”

“None of the above. I don’t think it was all black, I think I wasn’t seeing at all, if that makes any sense.”

“Huh. Hear anything?”

“Nope. I flipped the switch and then I was spinning so fast I was sure it was gonna rip me apart, and it damn near did. Hurt like a mother. And then I fell a long way and hit the ground in a different Singapore than the one in my universe. That’s all I know.”

“How long did it take? How long were you spinning?”

Bucky has to think about that. “I feel like… huh. I feel like it was almost instant, except that I also feel like the spinning went on for… I mean, it seems like I flipped the switch and then I was falling, with no time in between. But I also remember thinking ‘how long can this spinning go on before my limbs rip off?’”

“Interesting.”

“Oh, and I forgot about the fire at the end. I saw it, right when I could see again. Felt it, too. So, basically, first I was spinning, and then I was falling. First through fire, and then through way too fucking much air.”

Tony stares at Bucky for a long time, except he’s not really seeing him. Bucky’s been trained to read people, but he has no idea what Tony’s thinking, only that he’s thinking fast, although Bucky’s not sure how he knows that.

“OK. If I have any other questions, I’ll let you know.”

“Did I pass?”

“Huh?”

Bucky tilts his head. “C’mon.”

“All right, so I tried some technobullshit on you to see if you’d bite. But I really don’t have any idea how it feels to travel to another universe, so there’s no right or wrong answer there.”

“And that’s more bullshit.”

Tony raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t ask Marya all those same questions. What’d she say?”

“I’m sure you asked her that. You could just be parroting her answers.”

“Actually, I didn’t ask her. Which I’m sure you know, or can find out from Jarvis quick enough.”

Tony waves a hand. “Whatevs. Get outta here. I got work to do.”

“Uh-uh. Now I have some questions for you.”

“Which I will not answer. So how about we don’t bother.” Tony’s already turned away from Bucky and toward his workbench. He picks up something from the bench in front of him and starts to do something to it.

“Why are you keeping the Avengers secret?”

“It’s the Avengers Initiative, and if it was secret, you wouldn’t know about it.”

Bucky makes a face. “Huh. Avengers Initiative, huh? Where I’m from, that was an old name. Never stuck. They just called themselves the Avengers. And they’re not secret. Not at all. They get more press than you do. Which, what’s with that, by the way? I researched you, and you’re all over the press constantly. Except that guy and the one I see around here? Two different guys. It’s like you’re playing a part for the world.”

Tony turns around and Bucky endures another long period of scrutiny. Once again, he can tell Tony’s thoughts are racing, but can’t get a handle on what they might be. Whatever they are, Bucky’s surprised when they result in some answers.

“You’re just a guy, right, Bucky? Normal dude, normal parents, nothing unusual until someone made you something unusual, right? Shot you full of serum and gave you an uber-arm?”

Bucky shrugs. “I guess. I could fight before, shoot pretty good.”

“Me? I was a weird-lookin’, skinny nerd with way too much wired energy. Bruce? Same. Sam, Nat, Clint? Ordinary humans who were made extraordinary. Do you really think the world needs a bunch of us running around? That Mandarin freak is bad enough. And we’re having enough trouble with run-of-the-mill terrorists. You think we need the bad guys getting big ideas about making themselves into superhumans, too? That’s why the Avengers Initiative is secret.”

Bucky doesn’t respond, but he’s listening intently.

“Worse yet, you want governments getting that idea? Look at Rogers and Barnes. The U.S. government decided it wanted supersoldiers. Look what those two accomplished - what Barnes is still accomplishing - and there were only the two of them. It’s actually a damn good thing Erskine was killed when that facility in Brooklyn blew up creating them. God only knows what would’ve happened with a whole army of those guys. Well, you guys.”

“So you’re saying you keep the Avengers Initiative secret so no one will know that superhumans are possible? To keep the idea, and the means, out of the hands of the bad guys?”

“Among a litany of other reasons, yeah. You disapprove?”

Bucky thinks about that. “Be hard to argue, given the number of superhumans in my own universe. Because you’re right. They do cause trouble. But then, we don’t have the kind of terrorism problem you have.”

“Yeah, because your Stark found Jesus and became a pacifist or some shit, right?”

“Something like that. He’s not a pacifist, exactly. Just doesn’t make weapons anymore after he was abducted. By the Ten Rings, as a matter of fact.”

“Yeah, you said. You’re not gonna suggest that to me, are you?”

“Would you listen?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not gonna suggest it.”

Tony smirks. After that, an awkward silence falls.

“So, um… I’ll go. Thanks for answering my questions. Let me know what else you need. I really…” Bucky frowns as he searches for what he wants to say. “In my universe, Project Rebirth, that was just Steve. Me, I got my ass captured and experimented on. I was a very bad person for a very long time.”

“The way Marya tells it, you did very bad things for a very long time, but you weren’t really a person at all.”

“Yeah, well, Marya, she’s… She deals with all of that better than I do. The point is, I had a chance to use all the shit they did to me, what they made me, on the right side for once. And it felt good.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony responds warily, holding very still and suddenly watching Bucky like he’s an oncoming truck that may or may not be going to stop.

“Look, I wouldn’t trust me, either. Honestly, if I were you, I’d be voting to put me down. But I’m here, and I am what I am, so I’m hoping you’ll figure out a way to trust me, like you did Marya. Because I wanna keep fighting for the good guys. I wanna help your team.”

“Shit, you don’t ask for much, do you?”

Bucky just looks at him, conviction and naked craving in his face. For a long time, Tony doesn’t respond. When he does, Bucky’s stunned by the change in his demeanor. He’s never seen the Tony Stark from his universe look so… weighed down. Tony is always overconfident, always on top of every situation, even when he’s not. But in this moment, the Tony Stark he’s looking at seems almost lost.

“Do you know why I trusted Marya? It wasn’t because she sought me out. It wasn’t because she had the switch. It wasn’t me, at all. It was Rogers. He basically just announced that she was legit and we were bringing her on board. Just like that. I mean, we tested her like we did you, and I studied that switch like my life depended on it because, I mean, let’s face it. All of ours did. But in the end, it was Cap’s decision. And I could live with that.”

Tony sits, an elbow resting on the workbench, his mind a million miles away as he worries his chin with his fingers. Bucky waits, fascinated. He’s desperate for Tony to trust him, but he now understands that Tony’s never been simply cautious about Bucky. Tony’s panic-stricken.

“I didn’t ask for this gig, you know,” Tony goes on. His eyes have narrowed with concern, and they’re not focused on anything. He sounds pensive, melancholy. “I didn’t want it. I thought I did, at first, when the idea for the Avengers Initiative first came up. But then Rogers came along and bulldozed right over me with that all-American earnestness and all his jumping out of planes without a ‘chute shit. Man, I fuckin’ hated him! For all those years, we fought like horny badgers. I must’ve told him he was wrong and full of shit a million times. I resented the living shit out of him taking over my team. And now he’s gone, and you know what? The shit hits the fan and everyone looks to me, and I still find myself looking behind me. And there’s no one. And it scares me more than any monsters or aliens or whatever the fuck else you got in your universe. Because as much as I hated Steve Rogers sometimes, I’ll hate myself more if I fuck up the thing he gave his life for.”

Tony turns his eyes on Bucky. “So don’t push me, Barnes. Push me and I’ll waste you just so I don’t have to take the chance.”

Bucky nods in acknowledgment. Maybe he doesn’t know this Tony Stark, but he knows Tony Stark. Which means he’s entirely aware that Stark had no intention of saying any of that, certainly not to Bucky. What Bucky’s just heard is the human equivalent of the relief valve on one of those huge, old boilers that used to explode with sickening regularity back when every apartment building used steam heat. Bucky says nothing, because there’s nothing he can say. Besides which, he knows Tony well enough to know he’ll lash out if Bucky tries to offer any kind of support or understanding. He’ll also deny having said any of it if Bucky ever tries to bring it up again.

Hands in pockets, Bucky makes his way past shelves, workbenches, and robots toward the door.

“One more thing.”

Bucky turns around.

“I promised Marya that if you turned out to be a fake, she’d get to be the one to kill you. Don’t for one minute think I won’t give that order if I have to. Trusting you is hard. Not trusting you? That’s easy.”

Bucky nods again.

*****

Late that evening, Marya’s in the common room when Bucky wanders in. He’s not there for any particular purpose other than that he’s bored in his apartment and is just looking to see who’s around. She’s sitting in a deep chair, legs stretched out on an ottoman, a computer tablet in her lap. She looks up as he comes into the room.

“Hello, Bucky.”

“Whatcha doin’?”

She glances quickly down at her tablet. “I’m learning about Spain,” she says, a little wistfully.

“Huh. Do you want me to show you where the compound is? Or… where it would be?”

Marya thinks about that. After a moment, she says, “I don’t know.”

Bucky tilts his head and knits his eyebrows as he sits down on the ottoman by her feet.

“I thought about asking you to help me find the place on Google Earth, but I don’t know if that would make me feel lonely, when I look and it is just an empty piece of land.”

“I get that it would make you miss them. But why lonely? You’re not alone, you know.”

“Not exactly, but... They have each other. And here, I’m the only one-“

Bucky waits for her to continue, but she doesn’t.

“The only one what?”

“I was going to say that I’m the only one who is like me. Who was Hydra’s property, and did all of the evil things they trained me to do.” She looks up at him with a quirk of her mouth. “But I can’t really say that to you, can I?”

“Not exactly, no. Is it bothering you tonight?”

She hesitates, then looks up. “Sometimes I remember things. Today I saw a woman who reminded me of… something.”

Bucky puts his hand on her foot, trying to be supportive without crowding her. He tries to be gentle as he asks softly, “Wanna tell me?”

“Do you really want to hear what I did to that woman? Because they wanted proof that she was dead. So I… I brought them proof.”

Bucky just nods sympathetically and squeezes Marya’s foot. They stay like that for a minute without talking.

“I’m sorry, Bucky,” she finally says quietly. “For last night.”

“You don’t owe me an apology. I owe you one.”

“I’m the one who-“

“Look, let’s just not worry about it, OK? It’s not like there’s etiquette for this kind of thing.”

“I know, but I’m embarrassed.”

“Hey.”

She looks up into his eyes.

“This whole thing is so jacked up… I pushed too hard and you said no. We’re OK.”

“Thank you.”

Bucky stands. “I’m gonna go back to my rooms. Let you go back to Spain.” He grins and taps the screen of her tablet.

“Good night,” She says, looking at him a bit oddly.

“’Night.”

Bucky’s opening his door when he senses her behind him. He hadn’t realized she’d followed him from the common room. If he’s as silent as she is – and he realizes he almost certainly is - he now understands why people so often startle to find him near them.

“Hey. You ok?”

She frowns, searching for words. “I think there are women who pretend to feel what they do not, right? I don’t know what they’re called.”

“Nothing nice,” he says, letting the door swing open. “But I know what you mean.”

“I am not those women, Serg- Bucky. I don’t want to do that to you. But I come to see you, even when I’m not supposed to. And then I tell you that I don’t believe you. That I don’t think you could be my Sergeant. I am very unfair to you.”

He sighs. “Come in for a minute. Let’s talk about this.”

He doesn’t say anything else until they’re seated on his couch, in the same spots as the night before. Their legs are touching, but barely.

“Tell me why you come to see me. Do you know?”

“Yes,” she says softly, looking down. “It’s… Captain Barnes is not my Sergeant. I know that he is not. But you… You say that you are, and maybe, somehow, you could be. Even Mr. Stark can’t say that you are not. And that possibility, that tiny chance, is the closest I’ve been to my Sergeant in all these years.”

“That’s what I thought. And the thing is, Marya, I get that. I understand that’s how you feel. So, yeah, you’re right. I probably would tell you to take a hike if you were just some girl giving me mixed signals. But you got a right to be confused. Besides, it’s you. It’s hard sometimes, I won’t lie, but I still want to spend time with you, because at least we’re together.”

Suddenly, Bucky is rewarded for all his patience. All the time he’s been in Marya’s universe, he’s been aching to experience some things with her again, and what she does next is number two – maybe three, but definitely top five – on the list. She looks at him, brow furrowed, head just a bit tilted and a slight pout to her lips. “Why should another girl… I don’t understand. Why would you tell her to go hiking?”

Bucky bursts into laughter. There is no way to stop it, nor can he keep himself from throwing his arms around her. She hugs him back, and laughs a little, too, but it’s the nervous laughter of someone who doesn’t get the joke.

This. This, to Bucky, is the essence of who Marya is. She’s an assassin, plain and simple. She has every bit as much training and experience, just as much blood on her hands, as he has. She’s also entirely wanton and shameless in bed. At the very same time, she is this adorably naïve, this sweet, this tender. She’s a woman who has done things monstrous enough that she feels alone even among people with the kind of histories the Avengers have, and yet she’s embarrassed because of their almost-kiss.

“Oh, Marya, I’ve missed you!” He whispers fiercely, crushing her to him, forgetting to be concerned about the fact that she probably can’t breathe with her face smashed against him like that. “I love you so much…”

Marya stops laughing and goes rigid. She doesn’t move, or speak, and he doesn’t even think she breathes. Shit. He’s done it again.

Bucky lets her go immediately and moves away, so they’re no longer touching. “What is it? Was that not… I’m sorry-“

“No, it’s not the hug. It’s…” She looks almost frightened, but not quite. Her whole body is tense, and there’s a wildness in her eyes that he can see she’s fighting. “Captain Barnes. He doesn’t smell right.”

It takes Bucky a second to put that together with whatever’s happening at the moment. When he does, he lifts his chin a little and tilts his head, giving just the slightest nod of invitation.

Marya hesitates for a long time, her emotions showing clearly on her face, like they always have. She’s hopeful. And she’s afraid of that hope. But she’s also Marya, which means she leans in anyway, close enough that her hair tickles the side of his face as he hears her inhale softly.

Bucky is surprised by the near-sob that escapes her. She falls against him, pressing her face into his neck and grasping for him with her hand, clutching at his shirt as she fills her lungs with the smell of him. He’s a little relieved, actually. It’s been years. A lot has happened. But, apparently, he still smells like she remembers, because she’s got her whole face pressed into his neck now, inhaling him so hungrily that he’s just waiting for her to take an actual bite. Which he’d be fine with, really, because between the way she feels against him and her desperate whimpering, he’s suddenly ready to do some biting, himself.

It’s a long time before she sits back up and he can see her face. He lifts his hand and uses the backs of his fingers to wipe the tears on her cheeks.

“I told you,” he murmurs, leaving his curled fingers under her chin and smiling softly into her eyes. The pain that crosses her face hurts him, too.

“It doesn’t mean you’re him,” she whispers, but she’s not moving away. In fact, she’s reaching up to touch his face, teasing the tips of her fingers through his beard.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not,” he murmurs with the slightest teasing grin.

He waits. She’s leaning against him, with his metal arm around her, hand spread across her lower back, and her left hand bracing herself on his thigh, using her right hand to touch his face while she’s breathing him in. She dips her head again, scooting her body closer to him while she presses her face back into his neck just under his jaw.

Only this time, after rubbing her face against his neck for a while, she starts kissing him there, tiny pecks so light he can barely be sure he feels them, while her hand moves up his chest and into his hair. She gets bolder as she kisses up to his jaw, sliding her lips along his jawline, taking her time, until he feels a gentle tug at his hair to turn his face toward hers. He follows, and their lips meet.

Bucky feels almost paralyzed, even as every skyrocket he ever saw on Independence Day goes off inside him. He’s letting her kiss him, for now, softly and timidly, except that it’s not long before her breath’s coming harder and she’s using that hand in his hair to press his lips harder against hers.

He starts to kiss her back, his lips working with hers to see how many ways they can fit together, and that little moan she makes goes straight to his cock, which is why it’s not his fault he tightens his arm around her back and slides the other hand to her waist. Their kisses are deeper now, lips parted and it’s all Bucky can do not to lick into her mouth, but he needs to go slow, needs to be sure… He feels her pressing against him, lifting up just a bit for a little more leverage so he’ll get the idea and lie back, pulling her on top of him.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he takes his arms from around her and puts a hand on each of her upper arms, pressing gently to separate them. When he can see her face, she’s flushed and almost panting, her pupils so dilated her eyes look almost black. She’s trying to move back in, encouraging him to continue kissing her.

“Marya, wait.”

She has to take a couple breaths before she can say, “No. Kiss me.”

“I need you to tell me that you know it’s me.”

“I don’t care right now. I want you.”

“Listen to me,” he says, and waits with his hands on her arms until she stops trying to kiss him and opens her eyes fully.

“I need you to be sure.”

“I’m sure. I want you.”

He chuckles a bit at that. “I mean, I need you to be sure who you’re kissing.”

Her eyes narrow in a flash of hormone-fueled frustration. “I am kissing you.”

“Marya. You know what I mean.”

“But I… Don’t you want me?”

Really? Bucky takes Marya’s hand from his hair and places it on his crotch, just long enough to ensure she can feel just how much he wants her, then lifts it to his lips. “Yes, sweetheart, I want you. But this is too important. I know how you feel about your Sergeant. And until you know it’s me, or I’m him, or… I’m me, then I think we gotta wait.”

He collapses against the back of the couch, half-crazy with desire and feeling like there’s some heretofore unsuspected dry, cruel, puritanical part of himself calling the shots right now. Lifting his hands up, he mutters to the ceiling, “I so better get a few years off my time in hell for this!”

“Bucky, I…” She shakes her head a little, trying to clear it, and yeah. He feels the same way.

“You’re not sure yet,” he says, smoothing a hand over that hair that he loves so much.

“I don’t know,” she whispers. “I think I know that you are him, and my body tells me that you are him, but…”

She pushes off the couch to begin pacing in front of it. As she speaks, with each sentence she talks more loudly and quickly, and the frustration she’s venting isn’t just sexual. It’s the whole situation. “None of this makes any sense! It’s all so complicated and it gets all twisted around and I can’t be objective about any of it! They were right to make me stay out of it. They were right to keep me away from you. Because you look like him, and you sound like him. Now I know you smell like him and you even fucking kiss like him, and I want you to be him so much I could tear this place apart with my bare hands and defy all of them to keep you with me. But I can’t know, and if I’m wrong, and you hurt people because I give in to what I want to be true…”

“OK,” Bucky says, standing, too, and moving slowly toward her. “OK. I know. And you’re right.”

When he’s standing in front of her, he says quietly, “So let’s just be patient a little longer.”

Her eyes narrow, and suddenly she finds an acceptable target for her annoyance. “Let me tell you something. If you are my Sergeant, I am going to be very, very angry with Captain Rogers.”

Bucky huffs a humorless laugh. “You’ll be welcome in that club,” he mutters. “Still. He did what he had to do. He needed to go home. And where we came from, we couldn’t have been together.”

“Bullshit! Then it wasn’t an option! And ‘home’ was Bucky! It was always Bucky! That’s what he said!” Marya hisses, suddenly gloriously angry on his behalf. “Don’t defend his actions. Don’t you dare! No matter who you are, don’t try to tell me that there is any universe where it is acceptable for Steve Rogers to leave Bucky Barnes like that. So he was homesick? Exhausted? Who isn’t? The Captain Rogers I knew loved his Bucky, and he was well aware of how much his Bucky loved him. He swore to me that he would never leave him. He said he couldn’t. So if your Captain Rogers was my Captain Rogers, then he is…”

She shakes her fists and shuffles her feet, too pissed off now to think of words bad enough. When she does, they’re really vile. They’re also in Norwegian, which has always been her go-to when she needs to curse especially vehemently. Bucky feels another surge of love for her and can’t help the small smile that turns his lips up at the corners.

“He did apologize.”

When she vents her rage at that, the dent Marya makes in the wall has actual marks of the individual knuckles in her fist. It also breaks at least two of her fingers. There’s a lot of blood.

They’re both a little shocked at what she’s done but, in a way he couldn’t possibly explain, Bucky feels her uncontrolled rage like a narcotic. Suddenly, his pain over what Steve did is bearable, if only just, and he feels a glow he hasn’t felt since before Steve told him he wouldn’t be coming back, all because Marya is this angry at what Steve did to him. She loves him, still. And she still pours her love over him like an inexhaustible tide, warm and sure and inevitable.

Bucky no longer has any doubt that he was right to come here. Already, Marya is soothing the wounds he’s suffered at Steve’s hands just the way she healed those Hydra inflicted. She doesn’t have to try, or even believe that he is who he says he is. All she has to do is be Marya.

She lets him lead her to the sink in the little kitchen area and put her hand under running water. He goes to the freezer and pulls out a cold pack he’d noticed there, returning to her side to dry her hand carefully with a clean towel. Once that’s done, he rests her hand on one of his, and holds the cold pack to her rapidly-swelling fingers with the other while he leads her to sit back down next to him on the couch.

There are tears in her eyes when she looks up at him. That doesn’t surprise him; she’s furious and she’s just broken some of her fingers. But there’s also a trust in her eyes he hasn’t seen since their last night together in their own universe.

“Let me stay with you tonight,” she whispers.

“Not until-“

“No, I know. I’m not asking to have sex. Let me sleep here, with you. You know it’s different for me; sleeping together is… warmth, and caring, and safety. I haven’t given you any of that since you’ve been here.”

“That’s not true. But I would love for you to sleep with me.” They smile at one another while she wipes her tears. “On one condition.”

“I know what you are going to say.”

“It’s not negotiable. If you try anything, I’ll make you sleep in your own bed. Will you behave?”

“Yes,” Marya answers, her mouth halfway between a pout and a smirk. “But I will not want to.”

It’s hard for Bucky to just enjoy her presence and her warmth, keeping his desire for Marya clamped down tight. Especially when they’re lying in each other’s arms, with her head tucked under his chin and her breath soft against his neck where she can surround herself with his scent. He almost tells her she has to leave if she can’t stop it with those small, happy, sighs that keep bringing tears to his eyes, but he can’t make himself do it. He knows that, if she left his bed now, he’d last about three minutes before he’d be knocking on her door, begging her to let him into her bed.

They actually fall asleep, even if it takes a long time for both of them. But it’s only a few hours before they’re awakened by the shriek of the Assemble Alarm.

#The Avengers #Captain America #The Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes #Tony Stark #Sebastian Stan #Robert Downey Jr.#Natasha Romanoff #Clint Barton #Sam Wilson

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