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deathbyathousandspiders · 5 months ago

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HELL–BOUND. ₁

mcu!peter parker | zombie–apocalypse au. CHAPTER ONE.

IN WHICH you’re the last hope to saving the world from HYDRA’s destructive zombie outbreak.

read chapter two | three | four | five.

✨masterlist.✨

1.9k.

“You were born for this.” The words were tattooed on your existence, handwritten on your destiny. “We made you for this.” And your fate was embroidered with such words, such purpose, even as your footsteps echoed on the ashes of humanity. The last remaining remnants that society existed were crushed beneath your leather boots, and broken along the cracking pavement.

It had been four weeks since the outbreak. Four weeks since you’d been kidnapped by HYDRA; since you’d been separated from the avengers, since the death of Steve Rogers and since the downfall of America. The rest of the world was slowly catching flame with the fire that HYDRA started, withering away at the mercy of people who were stupid enough to try and fly out to salvation.

But this virus wasn’t a disease, it was a creation. These infected people weren’t able to be cured, they needed to be stopped. And the only person who could stop it kept trekking on the pavement, white knuckles on a gun and a backpack.

The fate of the world rested in that backpack, in your brain, in your blood. And you didn’t even give yourself time to process. You'd been running for days.

Natasha’s words still rang through your head like some kind of broken record, a senseless beacon of hope you tried to make some sense of. She’d come to free you, to inform you of the state world currently laid in. “If we get separated, I’ll find you.” She’d used the gravest tone you’d ever heard her muster. “And if you get lost, meet me in Massachusetts.”

You never would’ve thought that she’d be the one to get lost. To sacrifice herself just to get you out, and you knew why. You also knew you’d find her. You had to, needed to, or she’d find you. You’d find each other. Somehow, someway, soon, you'd be reunited. It was only a matter of time.

But that was a week ago.

Thank God you made it out, yet you were anything but hopeful. You could tell this was only the beginning. The start of something gut—wrenchingly inhumane. You were nearly out of New York, trekking on foot to Massachusetts like she’d told you to. Driving would put you at too much risk right now, especially when trying to journey alone. This helped you to better navigate your surroundings.

Hearing the low glottaled groan of an infected, you craned your head in the direction. They were stuck beside a tree, webs restraining them to the trunk and their body deteriorating as the hours passed. The stench of their corpsing complexion alone was lethal. Still, you knew what you had to do.

Aiming your gun, you kept your distance. Loading, squinting an eye, and firing like HYDRA was right all along: you were born for this. You made a clean shot, putting the victim out of their misery and continuing to trek along the ruins of a road.

Until you heard a twig snap behind you.

Your instincts were too fast as you loaded and aimed your gun once again, turning on your heel behind you to find yourself staring at a familiar face. Your eyes widened, lowering your gun only a little.

“Peter Parker?” It was the first time you’d spoken in days. The words felt wrong on your tongue, and seeing him was something you weren’t sure what to make of.

He looked older, matured, aged. Aged by the things he had to endure when the world ended; matured by the things he had to do to protect people, to witness the losses he did. He was older, in experience, in life, and in the days he knew were numbered.

His hands were raised, but his eyes told you that he knew you wouldn’t shoot him. You were classmates, after all. Teammates, Avengers. Something more. You should’ve felt relief to have seen him, and part of you did. But the other part of you drove the actions that led you to put your gun in its holster at your hip and pace towards him. Peter stayed where he was as you slapped him across the face. Your blood boiled with rage.

And he just let it.

“This is your fault!” You spat at him, fighting the urges to punch him, to hug him, but even you knew that anger would get you nowhere; even you knew a huge part of you was undeniably grateful to see him alive. Unharmed.

His jaw clenched and he’d finally averted his eye contact. Peter knew you were right, even as outlandish as the accusation was. “Y/N, please..” His voice was softer than you remembered it being, perhaps because of how apologetic his tone was. It almost thawed your anger. It almost reminded you that perhaps things weren’t as grim as you’d begun to believe. You couldn’t let it, though.

Your fist raised to throw a punch. A roar far off in the distance ceased your actions. Your whole body froze, and Peter’s did, too. Cold blood and a trembling fist to your side, and you looked to Peter for a directive out of this.

He grabbed your hand without hesitation, leading you into the forest beside you. Not a word was said. You were silent, invisible to your surroundings. Cutting through overgrown greenery, and stepping over fallen branches and knee–high grass. Peter led you past trees and bushes, over rotting bodies and patches of dry dirt, until you got to a twenty foot gate randomly placed in the middle of it.

Like procedure, he placed his thumb on a touch screen and the gate opened, programmed to only open up a crack so he could squeeze through, and thus you behind him. The gate closed less than a second after you were through it, and just beyond it was a bolted door.

Peter dropped your hand, unlocking the door and helping you inside. This must have been where he’d been resigning since the last time you saw him. He, too, had been taken by HYDRA when you were. He, too, had been worked and experimented on, just the same as you. And he, too, wasn’t a stranger to the way the two of you led the world to its demise.

Did he know the part he played in all of this, though? Truly?

Silence reigned over the two of you as you calmed down, and Peter led you through the bunker he had been living in. There were walls of canned food, loads of weapons, working technology, and piles of papers. He’d been writing, documenting.

Perhaps, he’d been alone.

Peter was the first to break the silence. “Are you hungry?” He’d noticed you staring. “Cold? Want a change of clothes?” Even when the world had gone to shit, he still knew how to be a good host. Even when he knew you were upset with him, he knew how to make you feel comfortable. Seen.

It took you back to moments before everything happened. Before everything changed. It brought back memories of a world you now only knew in slumber, things almost too painful to think about in waking moments.

Taking a breath, you turned to face him. “Are you living here alone?” You ignored his questions. Typical. The query ached in your throat, you had to ask it. “Are there– umm.. Are there any of us left besides–”

“This is Natasha’s place.” He knew who you were trying to ask about. You watched the way he turned on a heater in the middle of the room. How his shoulders hung lower the deeper in thought he got, how many seconds were in between his answer and the realization that it might just be the three of you left. “I don’t know who’s left. Besides you and me, and Nat.”

And that’s when you realized the part she was playing in this; she had been protecting Peter, the same way that she’d been protecting you. The two of you were merely kids, after all. Clinging to the hope of getting back to a world where you could get college degrees, and they would mean something.

You walked further into the room, following the warmth as it poured into the space. “When was the last time you saw her?” The rage you’d felt towards Peter just moments prior had already begun to thaw, already losing sight on where the anger came from. You were more focused, more worried, about Nat right now.

He sat down on a chair in the space, tapping his finger on the arm of it and bouncing his leg as he pondered. “The last I saw her, she was on her way to get you.”

That realization made your heart stop. Your feet glued to the floor, and your whole body froze. It seemed like Peter’s body caught whatever sensation of panic flooded yours. He froze, too.

“Peter.. That was a week ago.” The words fell heavy from your lips, like the fate of the world was tied to them. And it was.

He stared back at you, not daring to break the eye contact. Whether it was to provide comfort, or to better read your expression. “I know.” Even he understood the weight of this. The weight of whether Natasha was still alive, safe. Or worse.

You looked at him, taking a breath. Realizing you were quick to your anger earlier, and realizing that maybe Peter didn’t know what role he played in this. Regret put you in a chokehold, the bitterness of death taking reign on the tension in the room. It stole any kind of wishful thinking you’d had, and made its dire presence known by sounding off in the ticking of a clock—hand.

Grabbing your backpack, you went for the folder you’d kept inside. You fumbled to grab the papers, handing them over to Peter. “We need to find her.”

A puzzled look danced across his face in the light. He wasn’t entirely sure what you were getting at, or what you handed him, which meant you were right. He had no idea what part he played in this. “We need to find her, and we need to get the fuck out of this continent.”

He looked through the papers, eyebrows pressing together as he processed the writings. “Y/N, what the fuck is this?”

“Did she tell you what our plan was?” You asked him, trying not to let your anxiety boil over. You needed to keep your composure. “Did she ever tell you what we need to do?”

“What the fuck.. What the fuck am I looking at?” He ignored your question.

You looked at Peter and took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the time to panic, you knew it wasn’t. “Peter, I know how to stop this outbreak.”

Instantly, he met your eyes from where he sat, his entire expression changing the tone it directed at you. Misunderstanding morphed to confusion, curiosity. Hope. “How?” He forced the words out, needing to know the answer.

“We need to find Natasha, and get to Wakanda.” You told him, hugging your knees closer to your chest. “When we get to Wakanda, they’ll know what to do.”

Peter wasn’t satisfied with that. “And then what? How does the world just go back to normal?” His questions were urgent, but not judgmental. He didn’t ask with a tone to attack you. In fact, the weight they gained told you he might’ve caught on to what you were about to say. “How do we cure these people?”

Anxiety ran a course through your system, gnawing at your insides and sending a chill down the length of your body. You stilled, minus the fidgeting of your fingers. Your breaths became trembled, and you procrastinated your answer. “We have to get me to Wakanda.. so that they can kill me.”

And the whole world went quiet.

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phoenixcatch7 · 1 year ago

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In the possessed doll au, Bruce is definitely a creepy kid.

This is, after all, a haunted au.

He looks like a 'murdered victorian child' kid. Even before he watched his parents die.

Like, very big pale blue eyes. Significantly more striking /pos as a smiling adult than a perpetually blank faced unblinking child. He looks like he knows how you die. Pale skin, ink black hair traditionally styled, big dark lashes to frame those uncanny eyes. Just the hint of eye bags.

Alfred in any timeline has a spine of steel, but there must have been at least once when he was woken up in the night to a tiny shape staring unblinkingly deep into his eyes and thought 'I am going to die'. Normal kids are absolutely terrifying to wake up to, as any parent will attest, but imagine being an ex military spy now butler living alone on the most cursed land you've ever imagined, taking care of the only kid after your employers, his parents were brutally murdered, and suddenly you jolt awake in the middle of the night to see two enormous eyes less than a foot from your face, two engorged dots for pupils, staring, still as stone into your very soul.

Bruce, hushed because it's bedtime: Mr Alfred I threw up :(.

Alfred, trying to calm his thundering heart and not reflexively shoot his ward, dizzy from the sudden adrenaline from deep sleep rush, not letting himself freak out in front of the boy:.............................. Oh dear. That's not good.

Bruce, still not blinking or looking away: :(((

Wayne manor is a setting from a murder mystery at night, and it's not Bruce but Alfred that's the main character.

Perhaps, he thinks, it was always going to end this way. Not because of fate, but because the characters of the play would not know themselves to act otherwise.

@puppetmaster13u may I present?

#Batman with the justice league: *goth so dark its almost comic relief* *logical and pragmatic strategist* *creepy but a normal enough dude*#Batman in Gotham: *supernatural murder mystery slash horror game only missing the zombies* *triple edged daggers* *fear gas smog*#Ooh I hadn't thought much of the villains but let's really lean into the haunted aesthetic for Halloween #batman #possessed doll au #cryptid batfam #cryptid batman #.... Honestly you don't really need to change the villains much #It's like that Shazam/cap marvel post. Uwu strong man with the league and fighting off eldritch horrors bent on enslaving humanity at home

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wildglitch · 9 months ago

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Batfam x Spider-Man but he's from What If, S1:E5 What If...Zombies?

Spider-Man:*Watching Redhood beat people up*

Spider-Man: Yk, I used to live with a guy like you

Red Hood:*Coverd in blood and surrounded by totally not dead bodies*

Red Hood:...Oh yeah?

Spider-Man: Yeah, real violent guy in the past. When I met him there was a worldwide manhunt after him cause he boomed the UN.

Nightwing: He Boomed the- When did this happen?!

Spider-Man: Dang maybe, 3ish years ago? I remember fighting him in the airport. Hes cool now though, so dont worry.

Batman overcoms: And you said you lived with the guy?

Spider-Man: For like half a year. The Dude use to throw me out the window when I bugged him too much which sucked cause we lived like 30 stories up.

Red Robin: Omg-

Spider-Man: Yeah but it was fine cause he always apologized by showing me a new way to kill someone :D

Nightwing:...

Red Hood:...

Red Robin:

Batman:...

Robin:...I would like to meet this individual

Nightwing: ROBIN NO

Batman: ROBIN NO

BONUS

Batman: I dont think you're old roommate is safe to be around

Spider-Man: Oh if your worried hes like, mentally unstable then dont worry, he was cleared by some of the best doctors out there and declared mentally sane.

Nightwing: How??

Spider-Man: Cause unlike some people I know, He actually went to therapy as soon as he could.

Red Hood off-screen: Ha!

#spider man #batman #crossover #spiderman x batfam #marvel what if #mcu #dcu #peter parker #what if...?#zombie #drabble #send asks #wiz!au

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the-superoriginal · 13 days ago

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Dead people walking

Summary: The Apocalypse is hard and brutal. Actual people are as fearful as the undead. Yet they also can be the best that can happen to you.

Warning: platonic!survivor!bucky, survivor!genderneutral!reader, slight horror and angst 'cause apocalypse, zombies, canon level violence and gore

A/N: October. Halloween. This oneshot is for that time. Or any time you want actually.

English is not my native language!

You threw the halfway filled backpack through the small window and it hits the grass with a 'thud'. Instantly you strain your ears, trying to hear if one of the undead comes. But it's silent. Eerily silent even. Not a dog or cat or even a bird to hear. Two years ago that wouldn't have been the case. It would have been chaotic. Because two years ago the world was still fine. Normal. Everyone had been busy with chatting, travelling or simply existing.

But nobody was fighting for their lives, to simply survive from minute to minute. Not like this at least.

You squeezed yourself through the window, making sure you don't cut yourself on the broken glass. Blood would attract the walking corpses after all. And you couldn't have that of course. You landed on your feet beside your backpack nearly inaudible, sighing quietly out.

Snap.

Your head instantly jerks to the side and your eyes widened in panic as you hit the ground a second later. The air is knocked out of your lungs, but you hadn't the time to be stunned as the undead alright tries to bite you. His skin leather-like as it meets yours and one of his eyeballs were missing while his breath hits you. He stunk of dead and fresh blood.

Your rose one limp that was protected by a arm protector to try to get him off of you, but he was surprisingly strong. He is freshly turned and has just eaten. That wasn't good. Not at all. It meant there were a lot others not too far off. The undead were often in huge herds. That was one of the first things the world had learned. His nails scratched your skin suddenly and you clenched your jaw. It was fine. As long as he didn't bite you, that is.

That would turn you within in one day. Two if you had 'luck'. First the bite wound would just simply swell, then change colour to a sickly brown before a few hours afterwards the fever would hit. Senses would become sensitive to everything. And at least the first and last behaviour change would be there; aggressiveness. The end of the human and beginning of the undead. You had witnessed it often enough.

And you didn't wanted to be that. A dead corpse walking. Just a mindless shell. Slowly and painfully overwritten by a freaking virus.

And maybe eating someone alive that was dear to you. The screams off such scenarios still lingering in your dreams.

Or, which was arguably, the worser... infecting them too.

Suddenly a baseball bat hits the undead and he falls to the side. You didn't see much, because as the thing tries to move towards you again the source of protection had already moved over you away and started to hit it on the head. Over and over again.

You allowed your eyes to flicker up for just a second as you moved away, putting a safe distance between the undead and yourself. Bucky.

You had meet the man that was mostly known as the white wolf a few months ago. It wasn't a surprising nickname, you had learned that much during your first meeting already. He had hit you with the same baseball bat that he used right now, not sure if you were a undead or not.

That meeting had lead to a friendship and saving each other's lifes more times that you could count. Like right now.

The turned's other eyeball was oozed out through Bucky's quick, strong hits by now, the skull splitt open that you could see the brain come out. And just now your friend stopped. "You okay?" He asks worriedly and you only managed a nod before he already had hoisted your backpack on his free shoulder before grabbing you by your wrist and tugging you with him.

"Come on, we need to go. More are coming."

#marvel #mcu #bucky barnes #marvel au #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #zombie apocolypse au #bucky barnes x platonic! reader

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bekala · 29 days ago

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Two years since news broke of a new virus spreading across the globe. Two years since the world ended in what felt like a matter of days.

And now it was just this.

The camps. The scavengers. The families. The bands of survivors barely eking out a life among the living dead.

Darcy Lewis is just trying to keep going in a world doing everything possible to destroy her. It doesn’t help that her pre-apocalypse crush and current enemy-with-benefits, Bucky Barnes, seems determined to stir up emotional turmoil every time he speaks. But when a supply run for the winter goes bad, they find themselves heading outside their Camp’s walls to face down the dead — and the living — with only each other to trust.

Everything is about to get a lot more complicated.

Last chapter goes up 10/16 Rated: E Tags behind the link

#bucky barnes #darcy lewis #myfic #wintershock fanfic #wintershock #zombie au #enemies to lovers #marvel fic #apocalypse au #long fic #fic recs

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yes-i-am-happyaspie · 9 months ago

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⬇ What I've Been Reading Recently! [In No Particular Order]⬇

Rivers and Roads (Rivers Till I Reach You) Series by peterparkersbff @pbpsbff

[Series Description and Notes] Zombie Apocalypse, No Powers AU centered on Peter, Tony, and Rhodey (But if we're being honest, it's pretty Peter-centric)

Updates will likely be posted out of order, but will be reordered so they are in preferred reading order. I'd recommend reading in series order.

Peter Benjamin Stark Series by MoonBoo

[Part 1, Stars Align Summary] Pepper is concerned about Stark Industry's image and organizes a tour for a group of orphans. It's during this tour that Tony meets a five-year-old Peter Parker, who is mute due to the trauma of witnessing Ben and May dying in a robbery, and realizes they're soulmates.

Time Brings All Things to Pass by MsWinifredQuale

Tony feels like he's in a good place right now. He's got a great fiancee, a makeshift but settled little family, and he's even in a fairly ok place with the former Rogues.

So naturally the universe decides to throw him some curve balls, when he gets a call one morning from the police claiming they've just picked up Howard and Maria Stark from the side of the road.

And that's not the only time-related event about to unfold.

Tony really hates time travel.

[Also includes de-aged Peter Parker]

Please obey the signs by Bergen

“This young man claims to have been invited by you personally.” Tony has learned to read Happy’s expressions. That one is disapproval, and it’s highly familiar. “Peter is helping me out in the workshop today.” “Why?” “Uh.” Tony has enough presence of mind not to carelessly throw Peter’s alternative identity around. “He won a competition.” Happy’s expression flickers, grows tense. “I did not approve any competition that included a trip to Avengers Tower.” “Okay. Well. If we had theoretically organized a competition, he would definitely have won it.” - Tony’s life lately has been a perfect storm of incompetence. But perhaps he can get some solid spiritual advice from a mischievous teenager with a secret identity he meets by the side of the road one evening, like a lucky little leprechaun. If only Happy would stop being so paranoid about Tony inviting a random kid into Avengers Tower, sheesh.

The Chill Factor by Tashie

5 Times Peter's thermoregulation caused issues +1 Time Others tried to do something about it.

Broken Thoughts (I Remember Everything) by blackwatchandromeda (avenris)

"Peter, who am I?"

He hesitates. "I'm sorry. I... I don't know."

Peter Parker has been missing for thirty-six days. When Tony Stark finally finds him, he's wandering around New York with no memories, unaware of where and who he is. The missing month is a mystery, and nobody knows what happened to him - least of all the kid himself.

Peter, meanwhile, is trying to piece together who he was. What doesn't help is the big secret he's sure Tony is keeping from him, or the way the man is avoiding him.

Nobody notices how the missing month is catching up to them until everything goes wrong.

(Not Infinity War compliant, but takes place after Civil War.)

When spiders tour their houses, chaos ensues by pirateninja9

"I am very pleased to announce that we’ve been invited for an overnight tour at Stark Industries.”

Join Peter and his Academic decathlon team on a chaotic field trip to the Stark Industries. Featuring a bullying teacher and student, a confused tour guide and many Avengers shenanigans. With luck like his, Peter should have known this would be as far from a normal tour as possible.

Mugs Are A Problem (I Do What I Want) by JAWorley

It’s not usually a problem. Tony doesn’t usually have to work so hard to hide it because Pepper, Happy, and Rhodey know. He can be himself around them. Right after the compound had been built, Tony had been worried about moving in with the Avengers full time… worried they’d notice his tics and figure out his secret. Then Germany had happened and the team had split up before they could fully move into the compound. Tony had had two years where he hadn’t needed to worry about it. Now that the Rogues are back and are living in the tower full time, it’s on his mind again and stressing him out. The problem? Coffee mugs. Well… coffee mugs, and other things and the fact that when he’s stressed out, the tics get worse. But mainly coffee mugs. Coffee mugs are the bane of his existence. OR Tony has Tourette Syndrome and he doesn’t want the Avengers (or Peter) to find out about it. The newly returned Avengers think Tony is just being a jerk when he knocks things off of tables and counters, because they think he’s doing it on purpose. Despite the angsty summary, this is all about the team coming back together and Tony learning that the people in his life can’t accept him as he is until given the chance to know him as he is.

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nekojetto · 2 years ago

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Some doodles about Suprem Strange meeting his own spider son.

I admit the idea and scene with Zombie AU Peter came from this beautifull fanfic from fall_collection on Ao3 !!!!

Please I want to read more of this kind of plot with theeeeeem... and I didn’t even talk about America and him.... *crying on the ground*

#doctor strange #suprem strange #Doctor Stephen Strange #stephen strange #AU #what if #marvel #Peter Parker #Zombie AU #doctor suprem strange #america chavez #multivers of madness #doodles #sketch #comics #neko is waiting for what if season 2 #my art #artists on tumblr

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revengewitch · 11 months ago

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So...who would read a Dark Irondad Zombie AU if I wrote it? 😅

(With overprotective Tony of course)

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captnvbarnes · 10 months ago

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➼ 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹’𝑺 𝑩𝑰𝑵𝑫 (17+) 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒆

theme — a marvel zombie au!

pairings — bucky barnes x fem!reader, steve rogers x fem!reader

warnings — marriage troubles, slight fluff, training, slight angst

summary — the outbreak had happened as quick as the first bite. one, then two, then 1/3 of the population became 2/3’s. before any of the avengers could comprehend this threat, it overcame them with new york’s rising population becoming undead. bucky is your protector, not by choice but by chance he was there just in time to save you. you two flew the compound, leaving the life you knew. leaving your husband to rot. as you two grapple what this new world has become, everything became too much. the world depended on you guys to save them, but how could you save anyone now? and when the blood runs and the nights become colder, who will save you?

➽────────────────────❥

Unbeknownst to the entire compound, the United States Eastern coast has became initially exposed to its impending demise.

The spread began in the north of Maine, at 2:13 am, September 27th.

—

Sun dripped into your windows as the birds chirped and sang their songs. You could feel the rising warmth kiss your skin, your eyes crinkle before widening at the blaring noise of your alarm.

6 am.

"Steeeeve..." You grumble out, tossing your covers over your eyes and tossing the other way.

The alarm's blaring noise answered you instead.

"STEEEEVE!" You yell out again, wavering your hand blindly to swat at the annoying piece of scrap on your bedside table.

The alarm's annoyance continued.

"Ugh.." You submit, tossing your cover over and cutting the box's voice short before it could continue its belligerence.

You sit up, yawning and stretching your arms outward. You blink and let your eyes adjust to the sun's colors, greeting you unwarranted.

You turn and find your husband's spot... empty. It's neatly folded as-well. You scan the room, looking for a trace to as where any sign of Steve could've placed. Nothing in sight.

You get up, tidying your bed to twin with Steve's side. You slide into your slippers and grab your morning robe that hanged on a door rack of your closest which you draggingly coated yourself into. You noticed Steve's was still there. You round the bed, noting Steve's slippers were placed beside a wall, not in front of the bed as he set them before he slept.

He must've started the day without you already.

You roll your eyes. You get he likes a fresh start to the day, but you love the mornings you awake with him together especially.

Figuring the previous, you grab your clothes for the day and bathing supplies. Can't trust leaving your soaps in the community showers after Captain Marvel took a visit and was curious to what each Earth product was the best for her hair. Although she is currently off planet, it became a better idea to keep things in each other's room after using.

You walk down the halls, yawning and stretching. You pass Wanda just before she re-enters her room, already completed with her shower. "Morning Y/N!" you hear her greet, and you say the same to her in kind, a little more tired, before following with another yawn. "Morning Wanda."

You soon enter the community showers, the woman's and men divided but placed across each other. You hear some men inside, and know everyone is now starting their day if they haven't already.

"Morning sunshine." You look and see Natasha, wearing her morning robe and dampening her hair with a towel before wrapping it on her head. "Morning Natty" you say, giving her a half ass smile. "What time did you go to bed?" She chuckles. "Late. Maybe around 2?" You reply, approaching one of the covered showers and turning the nozzle to warm it up.

You hear Nat playfully pout. "Why so late babe?" You feel for the water, checking its temp. "Steve kept tossing and turning." You say.

Causality of being married to a former man in the army. No biggie, you're used to it and it's not the worst thing in the world.

"Ah, yeah that happens. Barnes did it a lot when we were together for a bit. But then again so did I some nights.." She trails off. Her and Barnes had dated a few years ago, but parted for differences and that they were better as friends. No hard feelings. Nat then met Bruce and since then they've been stable for about 3 years.

You felt the water become the right temp, nodding to Nat's words but signaling her that you needed to waken the fuck up and let the water rush over you. You entered the shower, closing the curtain and began undressing leaving everything on a bench inside the area. Stark made sure to have it be spacious and with storage. Though you're convinced it was Pepper's touch.

"Have you seen Steve? He wasn't with me when I awoke." You asked, setting your ring alongside your clothes, looking at it for a brief second as it sat. "Yeah, he went on a run with Wilson earlier, like... an hour ago?" She estimated, slightly muffled sounding as she began brushing her teeth.

You nodded, beginning your routine and lathering yourself in this new body wash that Stark sponsored and they wouldn't stop sending him merchandise. At least it smelled nice and lathered all bubbly.

You heard from the outside of your shower the sink run, clothes rustle, a zip of jeans and soon blow drying.

You thought on how Steve, as of late, would begin his mornings without you. Actually... for the past few months. It felt special when you guys woke up together, greeting each other with morning kisses and snuggling for a little bit too long before risking being late on morning training and breakfast. Not to mention, you two have been going on separate missions as well. There's been a slowly increasing distance, but nothing you would dare be vocal on as you diminished it to 'just nothing too serious to worry on'.

"Hey babe, I'm done with myself. I'll be in the kitchen with the others, Steve and Sam should be back from their run soon." You hear Nat yell. "Thanks Nat, will do!" You respond, snapping out of your thoughts and slowly beginning to wrap up.

You turned the nozzle, grabbing your towel and drying yourself. There was a light layer of steam, the sun brightening the rooms more now.

You dressed yourself in your casual attire, adorning your ring last. You fiddled with it, twisting it with your right index and thumb.

Surely, Steve wasn't slipping from you, right?

Or... you weren't from him?

No, you wouldn't. You love Steve. He's your husband. Till death do you part.

You brushed your teeth and washed your face, cleansing it and patting it dry with your hand towel. You did your makeup after, then finally brushing out your hair before pulling it back, leaving some strands to frame your face.

You grab the remainder of your belongings and open the to door leave. As you do so, you hear the men's bathroom door open opposite of you.

It's Buck. His hair is damp and some parts wet. He wears a Henley that's clings onto his body a bit too well. You try to not take note of how well it highlights his muscles throughly.

"Oh, hey Y/N, morning." He greets, monotonously but still positive somewhat. "Morning Buck" You say, looking over his face. He recently shaved so he looks more cleaned up.

You two walk out of the bathroom area together towards the bedding suites. "You didn't join Steve for his run today?" You ask. Usually Steve and Buck do everything together. "Nah, just didn't.. feel up to it. Plus I had a mess to clean up." He says, gesturing to his jaw. You chuckle slightly to it, it was kinda getting out of control. "It looked somewhat fine before, but I get it." You say. He notices you trail off, looking more ahead downward. "You ok?" He asks, stopping to a halt and facing you. "Yeah, I'm good Buck. Just.." you trail off.

You stop and think to yourself. You don't want to bother your husband's best friend with marriage issues. Doesn't feel the most appropriate. Plus, you never like to talk down about Steve or any sort of negative way, especially when it could just be nothing.

"Just kind of hungry. I went to bed late too so I'm extra tired." You salvage, giving him a reassuring smile which he copies. You two continue your walk. "Well we got raiding drills later, so better be on your a-game for that soldier." He chuckles, before nodding towards his door which you two came upon. It’s the door next to you and Steve's room. Of course they were paired to be set up right next to each other's quarters. "Ha, so totally looking forward to that." You sarcastically say, him slightly chuckling before you two both enter your respected rooms.

You drop off your dirty clothes into the laundry shoot, setting down your bathing supplies and unplugging your phone from your charger.

1 message from 'Hubby', 5:45 am.

[Hey, out on a run with Sam. Be back around 7.]

You clear the notification off your screen and check the time. 6:53 am. He should be back soon.

You put your phone into your pocket, heading towards the door before closing it shut and heading towards the kitchen.

You hear the commotion before you see it, heading down the stairs and the smell of bacon instantly hitting you. Yum.

"So he said, 'you fucker!'" you hear Clint say, mimicking a foreign accent. "And I said, 'but I barely know her!'" he laughs at his own dad joke, you not initially hearing the first part of the joke but you know it was corny as any of his other jokes. And so does everyone, as you hear some disappointed groans follow from it.

You see Bruce frying eggs and bacon, Nat preparing toast and jam for herself, Tony nursing a cup of coffee lowly talking to Bruce beside him, Clint rambling about his jokes sitting at the head of the table, and Wanda delved into her Sokovian poetry book on the couch.

Tony's the first to notice you. "Hey sleeping beauty, thanks for joining us for comedy hour, don't expect much though, it's a bit outdated." He whips, Clint sending him an offended shocked look. "Hey my jokes are funny!" He retorts. "Sure pal, and I'm a blessed virgin nun." Tony quips back, some low laughter from the other teammates following. Everyone greets you with a morning as well as you make yourself more settled into the room.

You fix yourself your favorite mug, nudging Tony to the side with a small hip bump and grabbing the coffee pot nearby. He scoffs jokingly and makes his way towards a head chair at the opposite end of Clint.

"Morning Y/N, how do you like your eggs?" You hear Bruce warmly ask. He's always so sweet. He took up cooking, and it's calmed him a lot. "Scrambled today, and some bacon if you don't mind." You smile at him, he smiles back and nods his head. You stir your cream and sugar together.

As you clink the spoon on your mug, you hear the compound doors open followed by rumbling laughter. Steve and Sam are back from their run.

You feel as though you're supposed to be more warmly about your husband returning, but find yourself being only pleasantly happy. Why weren't you as ecstatic like before? Is it because you realized the distance?

"Hey guys, welcome back, how was the 10k mile run?" Tony jokes, Steve rolls his eyes but chuckles. He wipes his forehead. He doesn't look to you yet.

Why didn't he look at you first?

"Was quite the warm up, Sam barely caught up with me." Steve said, gesturing to Sam who was clearly delighted to be back from the morning cardio. He had a sheen of sweat over his face. "You cheated you old man.." he heaved, hands on both his knees to stabilize his breathing.

At the same time, Bucky made his way down the steps. You looked and caught his eye first. He smiled at you, and you returned the gesture and hoisted up your cup as an hello.

Steve finally took notice of you and smiled. "Hey honey, morning." He greeted, making his way to you before kissing you quickly. Luckily with his super soldier capabilities, he doesn't sweat. At least not after a run he'd consider easy work. You smiled into the kiss, lightly ghosting your fingers over his jaw. "Morning handsome."

Bucky watches the display of affection. It's cute. He's happy for his best friend. He found himself a very good beautiful woman. Steve's deserved this life, especially after everything. You're Steve's girl, and Bucky will always protect you on the field as a courtesy to his best friend.

"Eggs are done!" Bruce calls. "I get first dibs, mine!" Tony says, pushing past everyone to secure his plate first.

—

11:43 am.

Morning training is a brutal start of the day. It goes over swiftly, standard drills and procedures. Tony made a holographic simulation, that way it's easier to track each member's stats and determine their strong and weak points as well as pushing past the boundaries of what is physically possible. Which is somewhat good, because technically none of you guys should be possible, yet here you are. It prepares all of you guys for how to handle future opponents you've yet to encounter. For the chance of impossibility..

You sparred with Steve only a handful of times, but often spar against other people to not let the marriage influence any pulled punches. Today, your sparring partners were Clint and Bucky.

Clint was defense based. He had trained with S.H.I.E.L.D longer than you did when it was still active. He knocks you down only a few times, but more so you over come him. He's proud of you regardless, as he was one of the people who recommended you for the spot on the team. He wasn't that much older than you, but you remember him from the academy days when he was a fresh graduate and you were a shining young prodigy.

Bucky was offense based. You were vigilante with your defense, coming in strong with offense, but Bucky always had the upper hand due to longer experience than most people in the room.

"You need to aim high but strike low. Throw them off, take them by surprise. Always use the element of surprise to your advantage." He advised, you two in a walking rotating circle. You went for a fake out punch with your right hand, him raising his hands instantly before you swipe your left foot under him and watch him fall. "Like that? Feels like a cheap shot." You retort, you both chuckle but you help him up. "Cheap, but works at times. I let you do that by the way. Be more aggressive this time." He chuckles, and you two continue the routine.

Steve watches as you train with his best friend. He watches your every move. When the others don't train you, Steve tries to personally train you himself on what he knows. But different builds require different tactics. He hasn't trained you in a while, he realizes.

He then takes note. He hasn't really set aside a whole lot of time with you. He feels a slight disconnect, but he blames it for his soldier core. And he's sure you understand, right?

"Capper, you gonna stop drooling over your lady or focus back?" Nat quips. Steve shyly smiles. "Can't resist looking at her." He plays off his thoughts, and continues his training with Nat.

—

1:12 pm.

Lunch gets delayed till then, mostly everyone having cut training quits before then to eat while you focused more and trained a bit longer. Your thoughts run back to you and Steve as you attack a punching bag. You recall endless mornings waking up alone, how your soothing doesn't help him slept as well as it did, how he no longer looked for you first any time he entered a room. How he—

"Doll, we don't need Stark asking both of us for a new punching bag out of our paychecks." Steve's voice breaks your focus and you stop. You hold the bag to a halt and wipe the sweat off your forehead with your boxing glove. You turn and see Steve, hands on hips and a smug smirk plastered on his handsome face. The face that once upon a time charmed America and your heart.

You sigh, giving your best smile to him. Maybe you are just overthinking everything. You guys are Avengers, of course you guys can be caught up in this kind of line of work.

"I'm sure he wouldn't notice the dent in his wallet." You say, taking off your gloves as Steve approaches you. He kisses you lightly again, quick and brisk. You became accustomed to the chaste kisses. Though you missed the ones filled with passion and ones that felt like he was kissing you for air. "No, he definitely wouldn't but he'd notice out of spite for us." He retorts, rising a small chuckle from you.

He holds your frame and you place your now bare hands onto his broad chest. You take notice he's in his uniform. You weren't notified there was a mission today? Usually Steve lets you know weeks in advance.

"Why are you in uniform?" You question him, giving him a puzzled tense look. He reads your expression and drops his shoulders. "Emergency mission. Fury informed us that there has been this kind of outbreak in Central America. It's taken over governments in a day." He explains. You become more confused. "Why weren't we aware of this? Governments, like plural?" You ask, kinda huffing but surprised by the lack of knowledge of this. "Because hun.." a look of worry paints his face. Rarely he's this concerned over a mission. "It happened just two days ago. In just a couple days, multiple countries fell." He explains, and the worry on his face then dresses your own. "But-" "With the Sokovia Accords, international issues have been restricted. Until now. But they're being limited with it as an ultimatum." He reads your mind and answers the question you were about to ask. It explains a bit, yet nothing at all. Sure you heard some minor things on international plagues, but there has been so many new diseases in the last decade that you didn't think much of this one.

"Wait... what do you mean by limited?" You ask, and as if on cue, Nat, Wanda, and Tony stand themselves at the entrance of the training room.

The gears slowly start to form in your head. "They only want a few of us to go check it out. Fury was told that only me, The Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, and Ironman were requested by the UN." Steve says, and you feel your heart sink.

"No no Steve, I'm coming with you-" "Darling you can't.." Steve's heart breaks hearing your plea. "Steve no!" You scream at him, holding onto his uniform before he grapples his hold on you a bit tighter to shake you out of it. "Y/N!" You feel teary eyed. You felt wrong to have doubt his love and question the distance between you two. Although it was warranted and fair, it seemed so little now.

Something like this sounds dangerous. And you wouldn't be there to have his back?

"Please look... it'll only be a few days mission, a week tops. The UN don't want us there, so I'm sure they're gonna want us back as soon as possible." He reassured, though it did little to calm you. "I'm sure this is just an inside terrorist organization. They probably orchestrated this to all happen at once." He continues. You blink back your tears, trying to hear him out and make reason of it all.

Bucky, who was a few rooms down, had heard the commotion and came forward to it. He saw his fellow team members at the door, heading towards Nat for an explanation which she shortly gave to him. After, he looked to you and Steve, watching the scene unfold with everyone else.

"I'll be back soon doll. That's a promise." Steve says with a smile and caresses your cheek softly. You try to melt into his touch, but there's a million things going on in your head at the moment. You can't find comfort, there isn't enough comfort for what you're trying to process. But maybe he is right. Maybe it is just a situation where it's another power hungry turf war, and maybe you were just overthinking everything from earlier. All these maybes.

He lifts your chin with his fingers, looking for a knowing comfort in your eyes. That look where you know and believe in him. Your eyes dart before meeting his. He sees uncertainty. He doesn't know what to think of it, and just tries to reason to himself that you're worried for him as a wife and concerned.

You numbly nod, a soft "Okay" leaving your lips.

"Hate to break up this lover's bid farewell moment, but Cap were on a time schedule." Tony chirps, Nat instantly jabbing him in his stomach for his nonchalance. "Ow Nat." "Read. The. Room." she grits through her teeth, as Tony soothes his stomach slightly.

You two look to the group at the entrance, nodding before turning to each other again. "I love you Y/N. I'll be back. Promise." Steve says, holding up your hand and kissing it. You feel the heaviness in your heart and in your words, unsure and unaware for what will follow after this. "I love you too Steve." You return, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He hugs you tight and returns the kiss, savoring it and giving more passion into it than he has of late. He's certain it wouldn't be his last, as surely, he'd return in a few days.

He parts from the kiss first, caressing your cheek again with his hand and kissing your forehead before leaving and heading towards the entrance with everyone else.

He approaches Bucky, who with the newfound information, understands his need to go but still is worried for his best friend. "If anything happens here Buck..." Steve starts off, placing one hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Protect her, no matter the cost. No matter what you do, look after her." He says, entrusting Bucky to look after you. Bucky looks at you, who has Nat now comforting you. Bucky looks back at Steve, nodding his head. "I'll protect her. No matter what." Bucky promised. Steve believes it, if not, knows it. He thinks it won't come to that, but as a safety measure, he has to know you're taken care of. You are the most precious thing in the world to him. Whatever it means that you're safe and good, that's what matters to him. He knows you'll be good in Bucky's care.

The two best friends hug, and Nat rejoins the group and they begin their trek towards their locker rooms to prepare.

They leave in the Quinjet at 2:25 pm.

—

9:38pm.

It had been a couple hours since Steve had left. Communication had cut off about an hour into their departure, the signal not reaching far enough. If needed, you could contact him through the emergency line, but there was no reason to extort through those extremes.

You resorted yourself to you and Steve's bedroom, looking through old pictures of you two and little keepsakes you guys kept for years, nursing a glass of wine; this being your 4th full glass. There was a heavy pang in your chest for how you felt earlier. And as unjustified you felt for having felt that, you couldn't shake it off. You look at the pictures of your wedding day and the reception. His smile is so wide and bright, his eyes so filled with adoration. You wonder when was the last time he full on genuinely did that with 100% of him.

Placing your wine on your bedside table, you wrap up this box and begin to place it back on the top of your closet shelf where it was, when then, you notice something you never saw before. There's a metal glint in the far back of it. You saw it for a brief second, but knew it was there. You're tipsy, maybe a little bit more than you want to admit, but certainly not that drunk yet.

On slightly wavering feet, you grab a stool from your vanity. You place it in front of the closet, standing in it and nearly falling before stabilizing yourself. You're eye to eye with the top shelf, and realize you never actually saw what it looked like up here, only Steve did. And there was never a need to, it was for old memories and scrapbooks, but you two haven't looked at those in ages.

You extend your hand, wobbling slightly but still finding an unsure balance. You grab what you were looking for, and take it out.

Your heart sinks to your chest as you recognize what it was.

A compass.

You don't need to open it to know who was in it. A rush of emotions overcome you.

He had told he threw it out the first week you guys began your relationship, which was over 4 years ago now. And to make matters worse..

There wasn't a spec of dust on it compared to everything else up there.

*Knock. Knock.*

The sudden noise throws you off and you lose balance and fall off the stool, a big thud ringing through the room. "Y/N?! You ok??" You hear Bucky call out from behind the door, but it's ignored as you groan from the pain of the harsh landing.

"I'm coming in." You hear Buck say. You tried to protest, not wanting him to see you in this state, but the door begins to open already. Dammit, you forgot to unlock it when you entered; probably too overwhelmed with everything to notice.

Bucky enters and notices you on the floor and instantly rushes to you, noticing the stool, open closet, and nearby wine and puts it together in his head. "Doll what are you doing to yourself?" he asks softly, hoisting you up and sitting you down. You try to fight it though, but the moment you stand back up the sharp pain in your back shoots through you. You collapse again, this time accidentally knocking over the wine causing it to land on your sheets and onto the floor. "Hey hey! Take it easy, you probably landed on that stool when you fell." Bucky says, sitting you back down, this time you relent. "Now, tell me what happened?" He asks more soothingly, holding onto your back and hand. You hiccup, and sniff. "I wass looking through our photos and was sad..." you jumble together. "He looked sooo happy here James." You say. Bucky is slightly taken back by the use of his first name, but he doesn't express it. You never call him James.

You smiled at the picture but frowned after. "Buuut he don't seem that happy anymore with mee.." you mutter, starting to get weepy eyed. Bucky frowns, it aches him to see you sad. "Well I'm sure he does Y/N, it's just been a stressful time." Bucky suggests, but genuinely, he has no clue why Steve has been distant. He noticed it slightly, but didn't bother to much to look into it as it wasn't his business to get into. "Oh yeah...?" You trail off, blindly looking with one hand for what you dropped. "Then whasss thiss?" You say, holding up the compass to Buck.

Bucky instantly is taken back. He frowns immediately at the sight. He knows that compass, hell anyone in America knows that compass. It's Peggy's compass.

He thought Steve had gotten rid of that long ago.

"When I found it, no dust. Not a spec! Poof, nothing, nada" you ramble, dropping the compass in his hand and feeling the alcohol warm your cheeks.

Bucky, still in shock, feels a big disappointment in his best friend. He shouldn't still have this. He's upset at Steve, not more so of personal, but he's upset for you. Steve should've gotten rid of that a long time ago, and if what you say is true, why doesn't it have any dust on it whatsoever?

Bucky, getting out of his own head, looks over to you who has your knees tucked and your arms holding them close to your chest. His heart melts, and he's hurt by it. Anyone but you should be this sad.

"Doll, look I can't tell you why he has it still. I thought he didn't have it either. But..." Bucky contemplated his next words. Steve is his best friend, and although Steve is wrong for this and Bucky will bring this up next time he saw him, you're still Steve's wife. And Bucky would never want to bad mouth Steve to his wife.

"...but, I know he does love you." Bucky reassured. You didn't lift your head up, and Bucky wanted you to know what he said was true. He lifted your head with his metal hand, cupping your cheek softly to meet his gaze. Meeting your teary eyes, he felt a pang in his heart. A feeling he couldn't describe, but as quick as it came, as quick as it was gone.

"He loves you Y/N. And he wouldn't trade you for the world." He said, and though he tried his most genuine and sincerest, it didn't seem to ease you completely. He sighed, giving you an unsure look before glancing around the place. Your bed was soaked with wine, and the glass that had fallen off and broke on the floor, luckily not near both of you.

You definitely can't stay here in your drunken state.

Usually he'd call in Natasha for this kind of help, but she was out and as well as the next best option, Wanda.

"Buckkk..." He glanced back down at you and kneeled down. "Yes doll?" He answered, watching you grovel and lean into him. It took him off guard, but he didn't want to push you off. "I'm tired. I don't want to be awakey right now. I juss don't wanna think bout this" you slurred. He nodded his head. Thinking of what he could do, but remembering that Steve told him to make sure you're protected.

He thought of an idea, and thought it would work, at least for right now.

"Hey doll, would you be ok sleeping in my room for tonight?" He asked carefully. It was better than the couch downstairs. There was no guest rooms at the compound up for availability, and Wanda's and Nat's room were left locked after their departure. He figured he could sleep on the floor like how he used to. That way he's there keeping an eye on you.

You numbly nod, and try to stand but still on wobbly knees. Bucky catches you, and wraps one of your hands around his shoulder and tucks his hand around your back. He helps carry you to his room which is luckily right next door. He holds the door open for both of you, turning on the light and closing the door after. He picks you up fully, you hiccuping but slowly letting the fatigue subdue you. He lists his covers and places you on the center of the mattress, taking off your shoes carefully and setting them against the bed. He places the sheet over you, and you snuggle yourself in.

He sighs as he worries for you. He never saw you like this before. But he's content he's keeping his promise to Steve, who he is still upset for about the compass. Steve had lied to everyone about it. And Bucky always treated Steve with honesty.

Bucky quietly grabbed his clothes from his drawer for his nightly shower. As he opened the door, he heard you softly call out. "Thanksss Buckk." He gave a small smile and turned to you. Your eyes were closed and you were half turned away from him. "Of course doll. Sleep well, I'll be back soon." He said, you humming softly as a response before snuggling yourself more into the bed.

It smelled like wood musk and eucalyptus. A very strong masculine smell. But it was warm, and may it be you being drunk, it felt like the softest mattress in the world.

Bucky closed the door and made his way to the showers. He was alone in the big room, undressing himself inside one of the showers, taking everything off but his dog tags and folding everything neatly. He turned on the shower, letting the cold water wash over him. He felt worried for you, and already worried for Steve despite the small aggression lingering.

Bucky never heard of no terrorist group that could take over entire governments in a singular day. It just... wasn't possible. He would've known about it. It struck him as wrong... but it was late and he didn't want to think on it longer than needed, wanting to get back to you and make sure you were ok.

He wraps up and dries himself, eventually dressing in grey sweats and a black beater.

He comes back to his room and settles himself down on the floor with a spare blanket and pillow.

He eventually falls asleep around 11:17 pm.

—

New York's first contact happens at 3:36 am, September 28th.

END OF CHAPTER.

➽────────────────────❥

tag list <3

@buckystevelove @frombkjar

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky Barnes slow burn #the winter soldier x you #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #zombie apocolypse au #marvel zombie au #steve rogers angst #mcu fanfic #marvel fanfiction

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moiravim · 2 years ago

Text

The Sacrifice Chapter 9

•Bucky x yn

•platonic Steve x yn

•Zombie Apocalypse AU

Bucky tries to hold back his tears so that he can focus on flying the helicopter. YN quickly runs over to him and hugs his arm. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Bucky." He starts to cry as he responds. "You've lost so much more than me; I shouldn't be crying over this..."

"Don't say that! Don't say that... I've cried every time. Don't hide your emotions. This is more than a valid reason to cry." My eyes start to water as I cry as well, only making bucky's cries louder.

"Bucky, you need to take a break... I'll drive the helicopter for a bit. You need to take a break from your mind. Take a nap, draw something. Whatever will distract you. It will help, I promise."

He nods before showing me the basics of the helicopter. "Ask for help if you need anything. Don't kill us both" He says jokingly before looking down sadly.

"I'll try my best but no promises" I joke before taking his spot. I look into his sad eyes before sitting down in the driver's seat.

After a few minutes I look back to see Bucky reading a book he'd packed. He looks peaceful and I uncontrollably smile at him. He feels my gaze and looks up at me, smiling back.

"Hey Bucky? What is shield exactly? I saw their symbol on Natasha and Clint's suits.."

He looks back at me before responding; "they're a group of people working together to protect everyone. Superheroes, spies.. You get it. Steve and I... We had some sort of 'super soldier serum' put into us a while ago. I don't exactly know what was in it, but it sure as hell made me stronger." He says letting out a short laugh.

"I'd like to think that Natasha and Clint were heroes like you." I say smiling. "I'm sure they were." He responds truthfully.

I yawn as I start growing tired as Bucky walks up to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. "Time to switch, you need a nap.." He says looking into my tired eyes.

"Are you sure? You don't have to" I speak with a tone of concern. He laughs before saying "Yes. Now go get some rest."

We switch spots again as I sit in one of the spots behind him and close my eyes.

I wake up to see that we have landed. I quickly look around looking for Bucky, to see him outside of the helicopter, setting up a tent.

I step out and Bucky jokingly says "good morning, took you long enough". I laugh before asking him; "is this place safe?"

He nods before responding; "Yes. This area is surrounded by water, almost like an island. There's kilometers of empty woods and fields. I have no idea what this place used to be, but it's safe now."

I smile at him as I feel relief. There were much too many sacrifices to get to this point, but in all it was worth it. We finally reached pure safety.

We set up all our things in the tent and use the helicopter as extra storage. We plan on building a cabin using the resources here and the stuff Steve and Bucky had packed.

After we set up our temporary base we begin searching for supplies. We gather wood and after a long day of work be return back to the tent.

Bucky tries making us dinner with rabbit he had found in the forest. He ended up burning it, so we ate canned soup and some fruits I had found and deemed safe.

After eating we go into the tent and lay in our sleeping bags that are placed next to each other.

I lay facing him, about to close my eyes before I hear him say; "hey YN..."

I look into his eyes, waiting for him to continue. "I have feelings for you. Feelings I have never felt with anyone else before."

My eyes slightly widen after hearing his words. "...I feel the same way" I state quietly.

"We need to get some sleep. We can talk more about this in the morning." I spoke before turning around to lay on my side. I start to feel myself drift to sleep but I smile one last time before letting sleep consume me.

#marvel x reader #marvel #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fluff #marvel zombie au

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questionableratatouille00 · 1 year ago

Text

Wԋαƚ Iϝ Iƚ’ʂ Uʂ?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN!Reader

Summary: After an incident involving the Quantum Realm brings forth the Zombie Apocalypse, you are forced to comprise a team of survivors to reach Wakanda, the only human sanctuary left. But is the apocalypse really a great time to develop feelings for a Super Soldier?

Warnings: Themes of death, hurt/comfort, angst. Side/main character death?? (Not Bucky or Reader) Fire, violence. Let me know if I need to tag anything else!

Note: This very loosely follows the relative idea of the What If..? episode. Thank you to @buckylattes for sending me this idea!

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

“This is day forty-nine since the apocalypse started. And Bucky and I may be the last survivors in the United States.”

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

The sound of the leaves crunching under your feet filled the warm and crisp air as you trudged through the forest. Occasionally, a gentle breeze would blow through the air, which felt quite nice in comparison to the autumn warmth.

"So..Steve and Tony got in some kind of fight?" Bruce stuttered out, breaking the silence.

"Yep." You confirmed.

"And..the Avengers broke up? Like One Direction?"

"Yep."

“And then got back together?”

“Uh-huh.”

"And there are zombies now?"

"Seems like it." You sighed.

“And the Avengers are zombies, too?”

“Dr. Banner.” Okoye chided.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just—y’know, it’s—“

“Weird?” Peter Parker guessed, smiling softly. “Yeah. We know.”

You frowned at the kid’s statement. You, Bucky, and Peter were the only Avengers on Earth to not be affected. Or at least, to your knowledge.

“Go find the kid. We’re..we’re gonna need all the help we can get.” Tony had mumbled to you. Steve nodded, pursing his lips.

“I’ll call Kate and Yelena,” Clint said, looking at Natasha. Wanda grasped Vision’s hand, looking up at him anxiously.

“Anyone know how to get in touch with Thor?” Steve looked up from his feet, arms crossed.

“That’s a negative, Captain Rogers.” Vision’s voice was smooth and neutral. “Mr. Odinson does not have a communication device to contact us.”

You gave Bucky’s right shoulder a friendly and comforting squeeze before you walked out of the room. You knew Peter’s address, you’d visited his apartment before with Tony.

Before you knew it, Earth was basically gone. That was over a month ago. You’d quickly found fellow survivors and made somewhat of a team with them. Peter, Bucky, Okoye, some guy named Kurt, Sharon Carter, you, and John Walker. And now, Bruce Banner.

“We need to find a base,” Bucky said, just loud enough to be heard.

“Sergeant Barnes is correct.” Okoye agreed. “Nightfall is approaching.”

“Pete, where’s that camera thingy you recorded your video on?” You asked, looking back at him. He’d made a little movie on how to survive the apocalypse soon after you’d saved him from the hoard of zombies outside of his apartment. It was a cute video, though the circumstances weren’t exactly great, or even good. It would’ve made a good school project, though.

Part of it was about hygiene, and Bucky starred in that section, albeit unwillingly. Bucky hadn’t said anything, but you could see the discomfort on his face when Peter showed you all the finished product. Bucky had been in the shower, rotated in a way where you luckily couldn’t see anything. He’d been ambushed by Peter and Kurt, the latter being lifted off the ground by his own neck, which had Bucky’s metal fingers wrapped around it. In private, Bucky had hinted that he was uncomfortable with the clip, and you’d gone to talk to Peter about it without saying anything.

You’d explained to him that ambushing anybody, but especially a Super Soldier—particularly a traumatized one who also happened to be a veteran—in the shower was not cool. Peter had apologized profusely, going back and removing the clip. You’d asked him not to say anything to Bucky, knowing that Bucky wouldn’t have wanted attention to be brought to it.

You could tell by the way Bucky’s eyes flicked to you when Peter showed the clip to Bruce that he’d noticed.

“Oh—uh—here.” He said, pulling the small camera from a pocket before tossing it to you. You caught it with ease. The apocalypse was no place for a lack of hand-eye coordination. You tucked it in the front pocket of your backpack.

“Won’t that thing run out of battery?” Bruce questioned, and you chuckled. “No. Peter and Stark made it a while back. It runs on an extremely tiny arc reactor. I’ve been keeping logs of every day—sometimes twice a day—since two days after the apocalypse started. So..yeah.” Sometimes others would make them, but none were as detailed or formal as yours.

“Jesus Christ," Bruce mumbled out. "Oh. I just realized--I haven't properly met most of you. I'm Bruce." He stuttered, picking at his fingernails.

"John Walker, Captain America." The annoying blonde spoke up. You were surprised he hadn't already shoved that fact down Bruce's throat yet. Normally, he wouldn't shut his mouth.

"I'm sorry--what?" Bruce looked at you, brows furrowed, wanting to see if you were agreeing or not.

"Turns out the government really doesn't like their favorite child going against 117 countries. So they gave the title--and a non-vibranium dupe of the shield--to this asshole." You explained, rolling your eyes.

"Right.." Bruce processed. John looked like he was going to say something, before Bucky shot him a glare, silencing him.

"I'm Sharon Carter. Former SHIELD agent." Sharon introduced herself, and Bruce smiled at her. Peter, Okoye, Kurt, and even Bucky introduced themselves, but you mainly focused on choosing where to go.

For some reason, you ended up being the 'leader' of the group. Maybe it was because you found everybody, maybe it was because you were the one who'd been an official Avenger the longest.

"Where are we going?" Bruce questioned. He'd followed you and the rest of the group into the woods.

"Well, the end goal is Wakanda. Right now, we're somewhere in New York. Phones don't work, and we come across maps every so often. Unfortunately, it's not like people posted map-selling stands in the middle of forests. Public spaces aren't the best places to be anymore." You spun around to look at everyone, walking backward.

"Wakanda may be the last human sanctuary on Earth." Okoye filled him in. "Our force fields would prevent the..undead from ever reaching our people."

"You sure did pick an odd time to visit the States," Bruce noted.

"I swore an oath. My king disappeared along with the Avengers." She replied.

"Right." Bruce exhaled.

"There should be an old Avengers safehouse up ahead. We stayed there after that one mission in February last year." You nudged Bucky with your shoulder as he caught up to you. He nodded slightly, chewing on his bottom lip.

"You okay?" You lowered your voice, trying to at least make the conversation slightly private. He glanced at you, before giving you the smallest of shrugs.

"Come on, it should only be a little farther." You called over your shoulder, beginning to pick up the pace. The sun was going to set soon, and night was not a time to potentially fight zombies.

You breathed out a sigh of relief when you could finally see the safehouse in the distance. It was a cabin in the middle of the woods, which made it a great place to stay in an apocalypse, at least for a little while.

"There's two bedrooms, two bathrooms." You announced. You put the code into the tiny pad by the door, before stepping inside.

You let out a sigh as you set your backpack on the floor against the couch. Everyone else followed suit, John and Peter sitting on opposite ends of the old couch.

Deciding to raid the pantry and see what you had, you rubbed your hands on your face. You'd risked it and went to a grocery store a few days ago, all of you filling your bags with as many non-perishable food items as you could.

"Okay, there's peanut butter, canned corn, some dried fruit, rice, bottled water, some trail mix packs, and canned..pineapple." You listed off. "And then whatever we're carrying."

"You wanna go through it all?" Sharon asked, and you shrugged. "Not really. I'm fucking exhausted." You held your forehead in your hand, closing your eyes.

"I can do it if you want." She offered, and you nodded. "Okay. Thanks, Sharon. I'm going to shower." You told her, opening your eyes and lifting your head up.

"You should take one of the beds. No offense, but you look like you need it." She smiles slightly, and you groan. "Wow, thanks. And I'll be fine. One of you should take it."

"Y/n, take the damn bed. Share if you want. But you're sleeping in a bed tonight." She decides, and you're too tired to argue with her. You accept your defeat and sigh. "Fine."

"Wonderful. You and Bucky can share that room. Okoye and I will take the other one, and Peter can take the couch. Kurt, Bruce, and Walker will be fine on the carpet." She assured.

“How’s your leg?” She’d injured herself yesterday, falling from the roof of a one-story building.

“Hurts like a bitch, but I’ll be fine. And don’t try and distract me. Go shower.” She smiled at the end. It reminded you of Natasha, in a way. You missed Natasha dearly.

"Okay." You agreed finally, taking out any food you had in your bag before taking it to the bathroom with you. You had a few outfits, just enough for maybe three or four days, and then a pair of shorts and a tank top to sleep in. You could stretch that to a week and a half if you felt clean enough to not wash your clothes.

You showered quickly before getting dressed in your shorts and tank top, walking into a bedroom.

Bucky sat on the bed, messing with his dog tags. His hair was wet.

“How was your shower?” You attempted to strike up a conversation. He shrugged in response, clearly tired.

“Did Sharon finish seeing what food we have?”

“Yeah.” He bit his lip, looking down at his hands. “Do you think he’s alive?”

You nearly asked who ‘he’ was, but after a second you figured it out. “I..don’t know, Bucky. But Steve’s strong. You and I both know that.”

He nodded, but it was clear that he wasn’t convinced. You pulled back the covers of the bed, before laying down.

“C’mere.” You said, the only light in the room was the tiny lamp that barely worked. You made room for him in your arms. Though you and Bucky weren’t anything more than friends, you’d gotten used to sleeping like this. It helped a little, in more ways than one. It helped him with his nightmares, and it helped with your anxiety.

He rested his head against your chest, draping his right arm over you.

The two of you fell asleep like that, comfortable in each other’s embrace.

Until Bucky started mumbling something, waking you up. “What the hell..” You grumbled before you realized what was happening. Right before he started screaming himself awake, you shook him.

His eyes flew open and he gasped, gripping your shoulders tightly. You waited for him to realize that he was safe and that the ‘danger’ was gone. His eyes began to water, though he tried to blink away the tears.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re safe. Promise.” You reassured him. He let himself calm down, exhaling slowly.

“Good job. Do you..want to talk about it?”

He looked at you, unsure. “Not much to talk about.”

“I’ll always listen. You know that.”

“I wasn’t there for him.” He confessed, eyes watering again. “Steve. I didn’t..I couldn’t..” He reached for his face, wiping at his eyes.

“Bucky, none of that was your fault. None of this is your fault at all. You didn’t start the fucking apocalypse.” You began to rub soothing circles into his back.

“All I had to do was shoot.” He made eye contact with you. Your heart burned at the sight of his pink nose and teary eyes.

You didn’t really know what to say. In theory, you could say the perfect thing that comforts him immediately. But the truth is that whenever you’re actually in a situation like that, all of that stuff goes right out the window.

“Close your eyes. Okay? I know this stuff hurts, but you really do need rest.” Your mind went back to Natasha.

He nodded finally, closing his eyes. You did the same.

It was the smell of burning wood that woke you up.

You blinked yourself awake, eyes stinging from the smoke. You gasped, choking on air as you took in your surroundings. The room was on fire. You shook Bucky awake, and he took a second to register what was happening.

“Shit!” He exclaimed, kicking the blankets off the two of you.

Without thinking, he busted down the bedroom door, revealing the slightly less burning living room. Peter’s face was the first one you saw, and you raced to him. “We have to get out of here!” You screamed over the sound of rooms collapsing.

“There’s hordes of them out there!” He shouted back, clutching your arms.

“The Spider-Child is right!” Okoye called to you as she threw Sharon’s arm over her shoulder, supporting the blonde’s weight.

“Well, would you rather try and get out of here or would you like to burn to death?” John cut in. “I would rather not burn!” Kurt pointed out, and Bruce nodded beside him.

“Okay. Okay. Come on, we’re gonna bust through the side door. Are they surrounding the house?” You began to plan, though you were panicking on the inside.

“I don’t know. I only saw them from the front door.” Sharon wheezed.

“I hate those odds and I don’t think our chances are even decent, but there’s no other option. When I say go, race through that door!” You directed. Checking to make sure everybody was accounted for, you gave yourself a final nod of encouragement. John was able to get Sharon onto his back.

“Go!” You shrieked, making sure that you were the last one to bolt out.

“I see them!” Peter screamed.

“Doesn’t matter! Keep going!” Bucky commanded, but they were only getting closer.

The sound of something crashing against the forest floor made you gasp.

“They can knock trees over?!” Peter kept glancing over his shoulder.

“They are getting a bit close!” Kurt yelled out. You looked over your shoulder, seeing John struggling to run with Sharon on his back. You stopped, and when Bucky began to slow down to see why, you put your hand on his back, guiding him forward. “Go.” You told him, as you went to help John.

“You can’t carry me and I can’t run,” Sharon said darkly. “John, put me down.”

The crowds of zombies chasing you were only catching up.

“Sharon, we’re not leaving you.” Your voice raised in pitch, anxiety settling in.

“Sharon.” John panted. “Come on, we gotta keep going.” He tried to stabilize her, to keep her still against his back, but she managed to break his hold on her.

“Sharon—stop! Stop, Sharon, please!” You begged, your eyes watering up.

“I can’t lose another friend. Come on, don’t be like this.” John grabbed her wrist, but she pulled away.

“Take them all to Wakanda for me, okay?” She asked, giving you a soft smile.

“Sharon!” You cried out as John gripped your wrist, keeping you from chasing after her as she staggered into the horde of undead.

“We could’ve..that—she didn’t have to—“ You gasped, beginning to hyperventilate. “Yeah, I know, but we have to keep going.” John’s hand remained wrapped around your wrist. It felt too tight. It hurt.

“Let go of me.” You said as you sprinted with him.

“There’s only more of them!” Bruce stressed, and you wondered how he didn’t get whiplash from looking around between you all so fast.

“Go right!” Bucky took charge, and everyone obeyed. You kept pace with Bucky, knowing that he was running slower on purpose. The serum enhances his speed, so there was no reason he couldn’t have just bolted and gotten to safety. You admired his loyalty.

Everyone—minus you and Bucky—made it away from the main group of zombies before a large tree fell. It was burning. The only thing that you’d noticed was burning was the house.

“Zombie enhanced. Not good!” Bruce shouted.

“What do we do?” Peter tried to find a solution. You took a deep breath.

“Run!”

“What?” John, Okoye, Bruce, and Kurt all looked back at you and Bucky.

“We’ll find another way! We’ll find you!” Bucky agreed.

Peter shook his head, mouth opened slightly like he was about to protest. You hoped that this didn’t fuck him up too bad. He already had enough trauma.

“Come on!” Okoye filled in the role of ‘leader’. She was a general, after all. She was born for this.

You turned to Bucky, grabbing his arm and trying to find a way around the zombies. “Move! Move! Move!” Your voice went higher in pitch every time you said it. You wove through clusters of them, though you were still in your pajamas.

You ran through the woods, but it was still dark out. The moon was the only thing keeping you from not being able to see anything at all, and you were thankful.

“How fast can they go?” You shrieked as they began to pick up the pace.

“Y/n, go! I’ll hold them off!” Bucky began to slow down.

“What? No!”

“Just go!” He stopped suddenly, and you tumbled to the ground, trying to do the same.

“No! Not without you!” You howled, and he accepted his defeat, racing back towards you and grabbing you as you stood up.

Not without you. I love you.

Bucky and you ran through the dark woods, breathing heavily, palms sweating. You managed to trip over a tree root, pulling Bucky down with you. Just your luck, you managed to trip at the top of a hill, and you rolled down it with Bucky. Dirt and dead leaves crunched under you and scratched at your legs and arms, pine needles getting stuck in your hair and in Bucky’s.

“Fucking hell..” You groaned as you stopped rolling.

“This is not as pleasant as those fall candles said it would be.” Bucky breathed, and you laughed. You’d shown him some fall candles in a store you were raiding, one being Rolling in Leaves.

“Yeah. I agree.” You choked out.

“Come on, we gotta find..” He trailed off.

“They’re long gone, Buck. We’ll..just have to meet them in Wakanda.” You stood, helping him up.

“Don’t ever pull that shit again.” You said after a moment of walking. “What?” Bucky looked at you, not knowing what you were talking about. “That sacrifice bullshit.” You clarified. “Never fucking again.”

“Okay.” He said blankly.

“Promise me.”

“I promise.” He made direct eye contact with you as he said it.

“Good. We should find somewhere to stay for the night. I’m exhausted.”

The two of you walked for maybe an hour more or so before Bucky pointed something out in the distance. “There. Those are caves.”

You looked where he was pointing, and sure enough, they were caves.

Another hour later and you’d been able to sort through the bags and see what you had. Bucky had been smart and saved the bags from the fire.

“Why do you care? About..my life?” He broke the silence.

“Why would I not?” He shrugged in response. “Because you’re one of the only people I have left. And..I care about you, Bucky. A hell of a lot.”

“I care about you too.” He breathed, and it was clear he meant it. His gaze drifted down, towards your lips. He cleared his throat awkwardly, eyes shifting elsewhere.

“Bucky—“

“Kiss me.”

“I—what?”

“I want you..to kiss me.” The former Winter Soldier, one of the few Super Soldiers on the planet, wanted to kiss you. And who were you to say no? You felt the same way.

You leaned it at the same time, your lips against his, both of your hearts beating faster than they ever have before.

The kiss ended when you pressed your forehead to his. Bucky’s fingers tangled with yours, your knees pressed against his.

“If I have to be with anyone in this situation, I’m glad it’s you.” You whispered.

“Me too.”

“Wait a second. Can you check the front pocket of my bag and see if the little camera thing is in there?” You asked him, and he nodded, reaching over to open the front pocket of your backpack. He handed you the small device. Maybe it was weird to end a moment like that with asking for a camera, but you needed to be sure.

“Think it survived the fall?” He questioned.

“Let’s find out. If it does, maybe we can use the parts to make some kind of communication device. Maybe we can contact someone in Wakanda with it.” You pressed record. A small little light came on off the side of the camera, and you grinned. “It works.”

Now that you were recording, you realized that you might as well film your log.

“The safe house burned down. We got split up from the group. Sharon..Sharon’s gone.” You said grimly. “We have no contact with the rest of the group, and no way of knowing if they’re alive or not.” You spoke to the camera, eyes never really staying focused on one thing for more than a minute.

“This is day..forty-nine?” You glanced at Bucky, who was nodding. “Forty-nine. Day forty-nine since the apocalypse started. And Bucky and I may be the last survivors in the United States.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader angst #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #mcu #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader fluff #zombie apocolypse au

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deathbyathousandspiders · 4 months ago

Text

HELL–BOUND. ₅

mcu!peter parker | zombie apocalypse au. CHAPTER FIVE.

IN WHICH a run in with cannibals sets you and peter back much further than anticipated.

!! WARNING !! — there’s talk and mention of cannibalism and heavy gore themes in this chapter. discretion is critically advised.

read chapter one | two | three | four.

✨masterlist✨.

4.8k.

A groggy, unforgiving headache greeted your wake as you blinked away what felt like days of sleep. You couldn’t remember half of what happened, what day it was, where you were–but the array of knives along the walls, the sleek cleanliness of the kitchen you were in, the pile of human bones in the corner of the white room–the memories came flooding back.

You tried to sit up, quick to realize you were bound to the kitchen island by harsh leather restraints. They were tightly bound to your waist, wrists and ankles, keeping you from thrashing too much against the white kitchen counter. Your head rolled around, taking in your surroundings. When it rolled back, your eyes caught Peter, hanging by his own set of leather restraints off the wall.

The two of you locked eyes in an instant.

“I’m so sorry–”

“Zip it, Peter!” You fought against the restraints. “Don’t apologize to me until we find a way out of this!” You couldn’t do much when strapped down, and you knew wasting strength by fighting against a countertop would do you no good. You huffed, “What’s your visual from over there?”

Peter took a second to switch gears from his pity party, and you watched it happen. He’d been awake much longer than you, most likely blaming himself for the situation. For how long, you couldn’t tell. You didn’t have time to.

Just as he went to tell you his first mapped escape–route, the doors opened and shut with a loud thud.

The same man and woman from earlier walked into the room and into your vision, stepping down the stairs and pacing towards you. The psychotic look in their eyes was so clear to you, so obvious. You felt idiotic for not noticing it in the clearing, and even more stupid to not see the hunger seeping through the midst of their staring.

“I wonder.. Which piece of you should we harvest first?” The woman’s voice hummed in a sickly song, one that made your stomach turn. Her fingers ghosted down your leg, like she was trying to think through which pieces of you would spoil quickest. Which piece of you would taste the best.

You let out a shudder.

Peter tugged at his restraints. “Don’t touch her!!” He growled, shouted. He couldn’t just stand there and watch this happen. He didn’t even want to think of what would happen.

The man pulled out a butcher’s knife and pointed it at Peter. It was the same blade that sliced your thigh before you’d blacked out, standing less than a foot away from his face “SHUT THE FUCK UP!!” It was a roar almost as intimidating as Bucky’s. Peter knew if he spoke another word, he’d not only risk his life, but put yours more at risk, too.

The woman laughed, somehow finding humor in this. “Oh, how I do love dinner and a show.” She never took her eyes off you, off your thickly cladded body. How you were still dressed was a blessing and a surprise. You were not complaining.

You were not remembering to breathe, either.

“Darling?” The woman continued, glancing briefly at her husband, “What’re you craving tonight?” The cruel, sickening smirk growing on her lips was enough to make you whimper. Your arms tugged against the restraints.

The man caught your right arm roughly, causing you to flinch, stiffen. You stared at him with anticipation, a pleading look in your eyes. You were begging him to stop, to spare you, but no words left your lips. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, and you froze at the way he mirrored the woman’s twisted smirking expression.

“I could really go for some charred bicep.” The words dripped from his tongue like venom, acid and magma that would have burned your flesh off. And perhaps, that might’ve been better.

Better than seeing the way he raised that blade so high above his head. Better than hearing Peter’s final beseech to stop, his cry out for you. It would’ve been better than watching the blade chop full speed for your right arm.

And it felt like the blade went clean through–It had to. It was hot and cold and heat and frost and fire and ice. Hot and cold and cold and hot and aches and burns and you couldn’t stop screaming. The pain was unbearable, stinging and cooling all at once, to the point where you couldn’t comprehend it; the pain overwhelmed you to a place of nonexistence. Pain to a degree of no comprehension, despite the fact that you could feel every waking second of it. You couldn’t breathe.

Your limbs shook and stilled and flashed with chills and sweats and tears and sobs and bile and cold. You were cold, overheating, everything all at once. You were hurting, uncontrollably screaming. Each pained cry echoed through the room, ricocheting off the walls and immediately etching into Peter’s nightmares. Into yours, too. Into a place so dark in the depths of you, it would birthmark itself somewhere permanent.

Screaming, bellowing, but were you even making a sound? Was the air around you truly as cold as it was hitting you? The room was spinning. The room was wet. It was hot and cold and burns and aches and far beyond anything you could ever describe, unlike anything you’d ever be able to comprehend. Anything you’d ever experienced, and something you never ever wanted to experience again.

But he pulled the blade clean out, perhaps an inch above your elbow. And you gasped. You gasped like you’d drowned, like the air would taste cleaner. But it was warm hitting your throat, it was like you were drowning. There was no air in the room, it was water, thickly and warm and dissatisfying. It was death. You had to be dying.

You didn’t have the mental strength to realize that the man was yelling about how dull the blade was; how the woman hadn’t sharpened the knife. You didn’t realize that your arm wasn’t even disconnected from your body, because to you, it felt like it was.

The groggy, dizzy, unwakeable daze that lined the corners of the room began catching up to you, and you began to lose taste and touch of what was happening. You felt like you were being engulfed into a terrible dream, an out of body experience. And you couldn’t tell whether the world beyond your consciousness would be better than the phenomena you were experiencing right now.

But Peter watched the whole thing happen. He watched your blood stain the blemished counters, the crimson he didn’t dare associate with you. He couldn’t even get it through his head that this was happening. Peter didn’t give himself time to gag at the sight, to process that you were about to get cooked and eaten. He was outraged that he’d been stupid enough to let this happen.

Your cries and screams and thrashes and agony carved into Peter’s memory. He’d never forget this, it would haunt him. Forever. He’d never forgive himself for losing this badly. And the worst of it was that Peter wanted it to be over, so that he could get his turn. He wanted his punishment, to endure the same. He felt that he deserved it.

He was trembling against the restraints, forgetting his own tears in the chaos of your pain. Peter wished he could take it; he wished more than anything, so desperately, that this was his ailment to live with. That he’d be the one with a disembodied arm.

Peter fought back his sobs as the two kitchen–aids bickered about the knife. And just as they went back to what they were doing. Just as Peter tried to give himself more will to fight, more reason to bloody his wrists in attempt to escape, the lights flickered. The lights flickered and the two bone–heads looked at each other before the lights cut out. Blacked out, and when they came back up, they lit the grave room with hope. Hope in the form of Natasha Romanoff.

Bloodied and bruised from what one could guess was remnants of a fight with everyone she’d faced to get here, Natasha took her two pistols and shot both of the cannibals clean through the head and painted the walls. The thuds of their bodies cued Natasha to process what the fuck was happening. Her shoulders slumped, she caught her breath, and immediately rushed to your aid.

Your deafening cries had died down, weakening. It was scarier than when you’d nearly blasted out their eardrums. They were losing you, fast. Nastasha unbuckled the restraints around your right arm first, ripping the hem of her shirt off before wrapping it firmly around the slice on your lower bicep. The way you whimpered and flinched and your half–lidded eyes widened for a second made even Peter feel queasy, but it had to be done.

Nastasha uttered a quiet apology as she finished freeing you, quick to take out a syringe from her pocket to push into your already–bruised collarbone.

“What’re you doing?” Peter rasped out, hating to be skeptical of Natasha’s motives. A flash of worry that HYDRA had gotten to her, that she had worse plans for you rushed through him; the shortest glance at the tears and the panic as he watched the way she rushed over to him made him shake it off. Her fingers fumbled to undo his restraints, trembling, obviously as unnerved and terrified for you as he was.

Natasha’s face was some form of grim, bare. Some shortcoming attempt at her usual stone–cold demeanor. She was a master at masking her emotions, but Peter could see the break in the dam she’d been holding up. “I gave her a sedative.” She freed his wrists, her voice wavering almost unnoticeably. “It’ll slow her heart rate, keep her from feeling the brunt of this.. It’ll hopefully help her chance at survival.” Peter glanced a few times between you and Natasha, swallowing the last of his tears before putting his head on straight.

“We need to act fast.” Nastasha cut straight to the chase. “We can’t lose her.” Her words were short with urgency. Her breath was quick as they walked over to the counter, and Peter swore she had a glistening of tears brimming her eyes, but she’d never admit that. And Peter would never ask.

He simply nodded and agreed. He was willing and ready to help however he could. And he started by picking you up off the island counter and hauling you out of the basement.

Fresh corpses of the other cannibals Natasha had run into lined the halls, but the path was clear as she led Peter out of the fucked up vacinity. Both your backpack and Peter’s had been placed by the exit, and Nat carried both of them without question. Peter kept his grip on you firm, unshaken. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to you, or ever let you out of his sight again.

No words were spoken between Natasha or Peter as they emerged from the building in the thick of night. She kept a white–knuckled hold on her pistols, nodding when the coast was clear for Peter and her to rush into the shadows.

Peter knew she was headed straight for the airport. Once they were on that plane, headed for safety, they could talk about everything that had happened. Why Natasha was missing for a week. Where she was, how she found them.

The jog to the airport was short, perhaps thirty minutes. With Peter’s heartbeat blaring above his neck, in his throat and all around, he hadn’t been keeping track of time. Whatsoever. His thoughts raced, he couldn’t keep a steady breath, but nothing would distract him from getting you to safety.

That menacing, monstrous roar shook between the trees close by, but Peter and Natasha couldn’t look back to Bucky as you all approached the terminal.

Both of them could feel the shaking of the ground beneath his trailing steps, feel the weight of his mutated presence as he loomed closely behind them. Peter kept running toward the airport garage, but Natasha slowed down.

She yelled something in Russian, making Bucky stop in his tracks entirely. And despite the heartbreak in her eyes as she looked at him, the voice in her head that fought against her, Natasha kept yelling the words; Bucky Barnes’ trigger words.

He fell to his knees at the phrases, palms pressing to his ears as he screamed and thrashed at no one in particular. The words drove him wild, and gave Nat the window she needed to throw the same shock–net Peter used just hours earlier, and shock him in place.

Quick on her feet, Natasha sprinted across the terminal, cutting the distance between her and Peter before they both made it to the garage.

She opened the large metal doors, catching as much breath as she could with the time before running to unlock the aircraft.

Once the door opened, Peter ran inside, immediately looking for someplace to lay you down. You remained unconscious in his grip, blood oozing from the fabric banded to your lower arm. It was a gnarly sight for Peter, and he had to fight his nausea for your sake.

Nat rushed in after him, shut the door and set down the bags, locking them inside before heading to the cockpit. It didn’t take her long before the plane was on and she wheeled the vehicle out into the open.

“Are you two secure?” Natasha kept that same urgency with her words, hypocritical as she kept her seatbelt off. She prepared the plane for take–off.

Peter found a stretcher attached to the plane wall, safely strapping you onto it before he buckled a seatbelt of his own. “Secure enough!” He hollered back.

And before Natasha even gave a response, the plane was out into high gear and they dashed down the runway. The jet was in the air within a matter of minutes, and if you weren’t bleeding out beside him, Peter would’ve found some sense of peace. Every ounce of him was focused on you.

Before they knew it, the plane was smooth sailing in the sky, through the dusking horizon and a slight gust of overcast.

Natasha called Peter to the cockpit soon after, nothing wavering from the sense of importance and seriousness she’d been speaking in. But when Peter came to her aid, he could spot the glistening of tears painting her cheeks.

“I need you to drive.” Nat’s voice showed no sign of crying, nor vulnerability. “Just while I give her stitches.”

Taking a sharp inhale, Peter tried to act like he wasn’t completely panicked by the words. Either set of them. “I, uh– I’ll do what I can.” And before Natasha could even stand up, Peter kept speaking. “How do I do that.. Exactly?”

A smile consumed Natasha’s lips before she could protest, realizing just how much she’d missed Peter. They didn’t have time to catch up yet, though. Not til you were in better stability. She took a deep breath, eying the control panel. She gave a very brief explanation and tutorial on what Peter needed to monitor while she stepped out; although, the jet was on autopilot for the most part.

Before he knew it, Peter was alone with his thoughts. His bouncing knee, his shaky fingers on the steering unit, and his undeniable urge to turn his head back and check on you every second. He did try to look back a few times, but he was either met with a lightheaded rush of sickness or a thickened throat and tears in his eyes.

Natasha gave him a task, and he tried to focus on that. If there was anywhere in the world where you could be nursed back to health, it would be Wakanda. So he tried to keep his thoughts set there, and what Wakanda would be like. Peter just couldn’t believe he’d led you to such an injury.

It took thirty minutes before Peter saw the break between land and the North Atlantic. It was his second time leaving the country, his first time since Germany. Spacing out at the open ocean, the dark space surrounding the dashboard, he reminisced on the reason why he’d been in Europe: the epic fight between Cap and Tony. It led him to miss them, all of them. It only reminded him of how much they’d lost.

Peter watched the way the skyline divided. The two sets of dark that separated stars and sea, the clouds that freckled the sky, and the waves that waded miles below them. He had to remember to breathe, because they had hours ahead of them before they’d arrive at Wakanda. At least the sight of the rippling waters reminded him of something like stillness.

Forty minutes in the sky, and Natasha walked back into the cockpit, slumping on the seat next to Peter. Her bloodied hands cradled her head, and she took in the deepest breaths he’d ever seen her take.

And now, in the dark, in the quiet, Peter finally took a chance to take in Natasha. She was still wearing the same clothes she’d left in a week ago, tattered and scorched, but mainly muddied; now, with a thick layer of blood splotches from this evening alone.

For the first time in his life, Peter saw Natasha in vulnerability, in fear. It was sobering, and made him motivated to help however he could. If one of them had to be strong, Peter didn’t mind taking that responsibility for a bit. It just wasn’t a scale he thought measured when it came to Natasha Romanoff.

Her fingers raked through her short red hair, now giving Peter a view of the sorrow in her eyes. “I should’ve never left you kids alone..”

The words filled Peter with cold, heavy, dread. “Is she dead–?”

“No!” Her eyes fell wide, panicked at the thought. “No. I just..” Natasha’s lips pressed to a thin line. “I went to look for Barnes, after I freed Y/N.” She blinked away the tears as quickly as they welled. “And had I just.. Walked her to the house, I could’ve…” Her words got lost on the way out.

Peter didn’t wait for her to find them. “You can’t think like that.” Part of him spoke to himself as he reassured her. “It’s awful, what happened.. But we can’t blame ourselves for it.” He took a second to let his own words process. “At least, not until she blames us first.”

That got Nat to laugh at least. “I’ve missed you, kid.” The laughter was short to last, both of them catching a glance back at where you soundly resided. Silence fell heavy in the space between the two of them before she sighed, releasing some of the guilt she’d let reign over her shoulders. “I’m sorry I was gone so long.”

“We’re together now. Let’s focus on that.” Peter cracked a small smile, forcing some of that strength he assumed Natasha needed. “I brought that change of clothes you wanted, by the way.” He found the strength to change the subject, digging through his backpack before handing Nat the clothes she’d instructed.

With a mix of denial and complete appreciation, Natasha took the clothes with that same small smile. She thanked him. “You really thought I’d look like shit, huh?” She mused a joke, running a ghost of a finger over the fabric of the top like it was too good to be true.

A more sullen expression transfigured into Peter’s curled lips. “No, I just figured you’d get put through the wringer.” The sentence was slow, more agonized towards the end. But it was honest.

And it still earned a little reassuring squeeze of the shoulder as Natasha ushered herself to the back to change.

The next two hours became Peter and Natasha catching up, eying the console but never needing to change any settings. They took the chance to check on your vitals every so often, hydrate, and freshen up.

It was an overwhelming amount to process. The fact that they’d gotten out of the American ruins, were on their way to the last functioning societal places left on the planet, and had the source to cure the world was a lot. And Peter still had one burning question in mind.

“So,” He picked at the food in his opened can, spinning the metal container to fidget. “Will she really need to die for them to make the cure?”

Natasha nearly spit her food out from the laugh suddenly caught in her throat. She disguised it with a faint hum. “She told you that she’d have to, didn’t she?” All she needed to see was Peter’s nod to actually let out a chuckle. “Of course she did.”

Something in Peter’s eyes sparked a bit. “Does that mean she won’t have to?”

Her head shook, “She shouldn’t have to. I never finished my notes in that folder, so she probably assumed the worst.” And that assumption was right. “She might be strapped to a bed for a few days while they do some bloodwork, but she certainly won’t have to die.”

Peter’s entire body seemed to melt back into the pilot’s seat, relief overtaking him before he could even release a solid breath. “Thank God.” He’d been holding those words, that breath, since the second the two of you reconnected. Part of him was always scared that he’d lose you once he’d found you again; now, being on that plane, headed to Wakanda, knowing you weren’t getting sent to your sacrificial death, he started to see the world in color again.

And you did too.

A thick gasp ripped you from your forced slumber, immediately choked back on winces as your body came to. You took in a few more rapid breaths, trying to latch onto anything familiar about your surroundings, trying to calm yourself from the adrenaline of a nightmare. The pain in your arm throbbed and your upper thigh burned, reminding you of the last time you’d been conscious. Reminding you instantly of what took you captive. “Peter!” It came out like a groan, rasped and lodged back behind your grimace of pain, but it was loud enough.

You didn’t have to think twice before a haste tread of footsteps could be heard. In the dark of the room, wherever you were, his silhouette could be made out beside you. Warm fingers gripped your right hand, the familiar callouses of Peter’s hold brought you some mental footing. Comfort.

He kneeled beside the stretcher you laid upon before kissing your knuckles, his lips tracing each. A bit of light caught his features, reflecting off the hot tears lining his eyes. “We got out, you’re safe.” He whispered the words so weakly, they were breaking at the seams beneath the weight of his guilt. You could barely hear them over the high–pitched whirring surrounding the room you were in.

Tears welled in your own eyes–from the waking of your nightmare, from the overwhelming pain lining your left arm, from the silent realization that you were in a plane right now. You were safe–it was almost too much. Peter wiped the first tear that fell from your eyes, using the same free hand to move strands of your hair from your face. His grip on your right hand adjusted, only growing more secure.

“We made it out.” He repeated, taking a shaky breath with his pause. “Can you let me say sorry now?” The cries he tried to swallow back put gaps in his hushed question, and you couldn’t bring your trembling lip to give a response. You were overcome with relief, and tried to process the trauma and realization that the two of you made it out of a situation you didn’t think possible to.

You could only squeeze his hand in reply, and it seemed like more than enough for him. Peter pressed the back of it to his lips again before leaning closer and kissing your cheek. Unlacing your fingers, you held his face gently, wiping his stray tears with your thumb. Peter took in the moment, savoring your touch on his cheek, leaning into it. He soon dipped down, pressing a fragile kiss to your lips. It only lasted a long second or two, but he kept his forehead rested against yours for what felt like much longer.

“It’s good to know some things didn’t change.” Nat’s voice stood out against the quiet, making you startle from the intimate moment with Peter. She stepped into view, confirming that she was, in fact, alive. Natasha made it out, too. And you assumed she’d been your saving grace against the cannibals.

A fresh set of tears coated your eyes, much happier than the first. Even in the dark of the aircraft, you could tell she got watery the same moment you did.

Peter kept hold of your hand, though he moved back a bit to share you with Natasha. She littled the distance between you, pressing a short kiss to your head with apology. With compassion and condolences. “Rest up, kiddo.” She sighed, “Both of you should sleep.” Natasha stood upright, looking you both in the eye. “We’ve got hours to go.”

And you didn’t argue with her.

The stretcher was spacious enough for Peter to rest on it beside you, getting his first wink of proper sleep in possibly weeks. You slept plenty, but after an hour or so of rest, you got restless. And hungry.

With Peter sound asleep, you took your time easing out of his hold around you and stretched your leg. The gash on your thigh was worse than you’d realized, but Nat stitched you up quite well.

Now it was your turn to eat and catch up with Natasha. The two of you sat in the cockpit, talking through everything that had happened on both ends throughout the past week, and Nat even went on to tell you all about what the world was like during your captivity. You’d also sought advice in her about how to go about your relationship with Peter.

She reassured you that there was nothing selfish about it.

After a few hours, Peter woke up as well, joining the two of you in the head of the aircraft. It was a monumental moment when he did, because the three of you got to watch the plane fly over land. You made it. You were flying over the African continent.

And static sparked over the radio system.

Natasha sat upright, grabbing the walkie microphone and pressing a button on the dashboard. “This is Summersault, does anyone copy?” She used a nickname that you could only piece together based on assumption. The three of you held your breath as the static continued, only cutting out when Nat would press the button on her mic again. “This is Summersault. Does anybody copy? Over.”

Something thick hung in the air as you all simultaneously leaned forwards in your seats. You didn’t know who you were waiting for, but an unanswered call would not be ideal. Having static be the only answer to Natasha could mean a number of things. It did, however, fuel the worry that there wasn’t anything left. That maybe, the Wakanda you thought you were headed for, was nothing but empty buildings and bones and ash.

You were still miles out from any possible remnants of operating civilization, so the feedback couldn’t be a fluke. Right?

What felt like a minute passed. Perhaps an hour, but you knew it wasn’t, really. Silence made the wait feel dragged. None of you could take your eyes off the console, hoping maybe that your prayers would be answered.

A crinkle in the static, and the three of you held your breaths, flinching at the change of noise. “I think the codename I gave you was Peppermint Patty.” You never would’ve expected the recipient to have been someone so familiar, but it was Tony Stark who answered your call. He answered your prayer.

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