#rhodes meets steve

[pandagirl45]

Thinking about Steve being a frog.

I am thinking about Steve in a frog onsie

I am imagining Steve with big black pupils when he is in frog mode.

Do you see Frog Steve that sits under the shower for hours on end?

Rhodey listening to the sleepy croaking from his blondie.

Post magical frog Steve, seems like the cutest thing. Also the irritated little croaks he could make or froggy chirps.

Rhodey kissing his cheek where the frog spots now are freckles.

Hello Frog Steve. Hello Frog obsessed Steve. Why he is called froggy for one of these reasons (or because he jumps into action far to often)

Rhodey: froggy

Steve: *croaks in embarrassment* rhodes... *lays on his chest*

Rhodey: *chuckles*

[duranduratulsa]

Duran Duran - Meet El Presidente (Official Music Video)

Duran Duran song 🎵 of the day: Meet El Presidente (1987) from Notorious #duranduran #meetelpresidente #notorious #durandurannotorious #SimonLeBon #nickrhodes #johntaylor #warrencuccurullo #steveferrone #andytaylor #80s

[shanastoryteller]

Happy pride!!!! Dealers choice, but something gender?

a continuation of 1

Steve meets Iron Man and immediately wants to punch him in the face. It probably wouldn’t do much, considering he’s made out of solid metal. But it might make him feel better. And hey, he’s punched though solid metal before.

He’s sarcastic and rude and makes derisive, pithy comments and doesn’t take anything seriously. Plus he immediately starts hitting on Natasha, who’s obviously more than capable of taking care of herself, but it makes him think of all the people who used to underestimate and denigrate Peggy and he has to grit his teeth.

The worst part is it’s clear no one else feels the same way.

Everyone greets him cheerfully, rolling their eyes and laughing at his jokes. Even Natasha likes him, not flirting back but also not shutting it down, easy around him in a way that so far she’s only been around Coulson. Fury and Hill seem to be the only people that share his irritation.

Tony Stark walks onto the hellicarrier, hair short and jeans tight with an MIT sweatshirt several sizes too big, and the first thing she says to Steve is, “Heard you met my better half.”

“What,” he says.

But she’s already moved on, talking excitedly to Bruce Banner who for the first time doesn’t look like he’s contemplating throwing himself off the edge. Everyone else is ignoring her, but Steve can’t look away. She sits at the table and taps her fingers against it, finally getting fed up and interrupting Fury to call him an idiot, arguing about the cube and scepter, and for someone who hadn’t been on the ground she seems to know an awful lot. But Howard had been like that too, never involved with the actual fighting.

Then there’s a couple comments about the armor and repairs and what reinforcements she’ll have to add before Iron Man is sent out again. Her earlier comment clicks into place and he blurts, “You’re married to Iron Man?”

How could an ass like that get a girl like this?

That causes the entire table to go silent.

“Wow,” Natasha says. “Does Rhodes know you’re cheating on him? That would explain why you look like you just rolled off the couch.”

“Shut up, fuck you’re annoying,” Tony says. “No, Rogers, that was a joke. He’s my highly compensated employee and bodyguard who I have strictly professional relations with otherwise Pepper will scratch my eyes out. She’s one more PR disaster away from taking an extended vacation in Bora Bora.”

“And she occasionally releases him from his services to help us fight crime,” Coulson says with a straight face.

She points a finger at him. “I’m going to start billing you for that.”

“You already bill us for texts you send comprising entirely of emojis,” Fury says, deadpan. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Those emojis were instructions on how to diffuse a bomb, and also the tech team understood it, so,” she shrugs. “Perfectly logical. If you have an issue with my billing, take it up with Pepper.”

Steve doesn’t know who Pepper is, but Fury frowns and changes the subject, so she must be pretty intimidating.

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 1

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The team are back together and their soul family back in place. Emotions run high, their exhausted and a photo is about to shake Bucky to his core.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of death, sad Bucky.

Natasha looked around the room, scanning her weary team mates. Her soul family. It had taken a while to get here but they had. Sure Tony and Steve continued to be at each other’s throats and Bucky’s face got more broody by the day but they were together.

Knowing Wanda was also back in the Compound, Vision at her side as they settled into their new quarters brought a smile to her face.

The rush of emotions of everyone being together had been too much for Wanda, and when Steve and Tony had squared up to each other for the third time in as many hours, Rhodes and Wilson forced to keep them apart as Bucky packed a bag to leave, she’d had enough.

Natasha had ushered Bruce away to avoid a code green, as Vision had tried to do the same with Wanda. But Wanda had reached her breaking point and had enough of the arguments, the intense negative energy that surrounded her soul family had brought her to breaking point. Her nights were plagued with nightmares about her family, Pietro, and her days were a living nightmare with her soul family at each other’s throats. Wanda had screamed as she’d nearer collapse.

“Enough!” she’d yelled as Vision looped an arm around her waist to keep her upright, “do you see? You never see do you? The damage you’re doing? To our family? To each other?!”

She paused as she took a breath.

“I’m leaving.”

There were calls of her name as Vision led her from the room. An hour later they were in a Quinjet over the Atlantic, directions to a safe house and a contact of Natasha’s. The rest of them didn’t speak to each other for a week following Wanda and Vision’s departure, the only exception their own soulmates. When Natasha wouldn’t say where they were, they didn’t speak to her for a few days longer.

Wanda’s return came three months later, sure there was still bickering but they’d learnt the hard way to keep it away from her. As much as they’d had preferred a longer break, missions and their skillsets had meant a need for them to return.

The Hydra clean up had originally been going well but a repeat of dead leads and bad intel had caused any more arrests to dry up. 

As the digital map displayed across the meeting room showed the dead ends and places still be searched. Natasha scanned the faces of her team mates and soul family in the room. Steve was seemingly staring into thin air. Tony flipped a pen between his hands. Rhodey rubbed his eyes. Sam had his eyes on a screen full of text but the movement of his eyes indicated he was reading the same sentence over and over again. Bucky stared at a spot on one of the maps. A no go area in part of Germany. An old Nazi bunker that they had very little chance of getting permission to search even with the New Accords. 

Unless she asked for a favour. A favour from you. Her attention was brought away from her stray thoughts as Bruce wrapped himself around her, a soft kiss to her forehead.

“They need a break.”

She smiled warmly at him.

“Guys, let’s take a break, half an hour and regroup.”

The only responses were sighs, stretches and yawns. Bucky was the first one up and out of the room rubbing his hand down his face in frustration as he went. Tony’s voice broke the silence. 

“Is there a reason he keeps staring at the same spot?”

“The same reason I keep rereading this.” Sam replied pointing at the screen. 

“It’s one of the no go areas left from the war, but it feels to me like that’s the next stop” Steve added.

“Has he been there before?” Tony asked.

“We both have.” Steve replied.

“Recently or before?” Asked Natasha, referencing before Steve was in the ice and Bucky was in cyro.

“Before.”

“Look if it’s a no go area you know the chances of us getting in there are real slim.” added Rhodey.

“Not necessarily.” added Nat.

“Let me guess” Sam enquired “you know a guy?”

“A girl actually.” she replied. 

Tony cocked an eyebrow and glanced round at his soul family.

“Spill it Romanoff.” 

Meanwhile down the hall Bucky splashed cold water on his face. He knew the next spot was likely to be that bunker and he knew he wasn’t going to like it. If they could even get in there it would bring back too many memories. 

Memories of when they’d raided it. Memories of when he was back there twelve years later. He needed coffee or something stronger. Where was Thor when he needed him. 

He headed out of the bathroom and along the corridor to the coffee station and began to start up the machine and root through the snacks. In the distance he could hear the hums of Wanda from the printing room. The room was barely used, the team opting for electronic devices or projections instead but Steve still liked paper copies and every mission had a pack of freshly printed paper maps just in case. Two packs in fact. One for use and one just in case. 

Every time Steve would drop the two packs on to the meeting room table or fiddle with them on his lap in the Quinjet he would give Bucky a sad smile and nod his head, which Bucky would return. 

It was silly really how things reminded them of their shared soulmate. Their soulmate had prepared maps for British Special Forces during the war and their eye to detail had been the best around, making Peggy quick to recruit their girl to her team. The fates leading her to Steve first and then Bucky. Their soulmate would do anything to keep them safe. Nagging Howard for better equipment and weapons. Telling him to “quit flirting and stop trying to fondue anything in a skirt and bloody get on with it”.

Howard never let on he was slightly scared of their soulmate, not to any of their faces but the panic in his eyes gave him away. Steve had nicknamed their soulmate a Spitfire, like the British fighter plane. The look on their girls face said he shouldn’t have.

Her way of keeping them safe was to slip extra bandages into their gear, sew small bits of metal into their suits to cover key areas but not too much to weigh them down. Then there was the packs. Always two packs of maps, just in case. Bucky sometimes wondered if their girl slipped extra copies to the other Howling Commandos. 

“Can’t have you getting lost lads. You Yanks are awful with directions.”

Bucky would always tap her ass playfully as she passed by for that comment. 

His thoughts were soon snapped back by Vision’s soft voice. 

“James?”

Bucky cleared his throat to answer, and wiping his face roughly when he realised he was crying.

“Yeah? You need something?”

“Actually I wanted to check if you needed anything.”

“No, I’m good, thanks Vis”

“Were you thinking of her again? If you’d like to talk about her, Wanda and I would happily listen.”

Bucky turned away, dipping his head, gripping the counter of the coffee station. He tried to take a deep breath but it came out shuddered. 

“James, I maybe speaking out of turn and uninvited but there is no shame in grief and you certainly don’t need to hide it from us. For anyone in the outside world it is a lifetime ago but for you, it is not, and there is no timeframe or timeline for grief.”

Bucky heard Wanda’s soft footsteps approach. 

“James, take it from someone that’s knows, it is better to talk than it is to keep it inside. You listened to me talk about my brother, I’d be honoured to hear about her.”

Bucky nodded and turned towards them both teary eyed.

“Whenever you want us to, we’ll listen” added Vision.

He rubbed his face and nodded again. It was then he noticed a pile of photos in Wanda’s arms. All different sizes clutched in her hands, he was puzzled as he had barely seen a printed photo since being out of cyro, Sam telling him that people don’t often print them anymore. He then noticed Vision was holding picture frames. 

“Did you print these? I didn’t think people did that anymore?”

“Not always but I like them,” Wanda answered “reminds me of home. This one Tony found for me on an old friend’s social media account” as she handed him a picture of Pietro. 

“This one is when we were away” she handed him another. A picture of the couple near a lake, Scotland, Bucky thought to himself.

“This one is from” Wanda started only to stop abruptly as some of the photos scattered to the floor. She cursed in Sokovian as she went to pick them up.

“I’ve got it” Bucky said as he reached for them. He passed the first two up to Wanda but the third made him freeze.

To anyone else it was a normal picture. Three friends side by side. Two red heads and a (Y/H/C). Only it wasn’t a normal photo at all. Because alongside his two redheaded soul sisters, Wanda with a soft smile and Natasha looking nonchalant, was another woman. A woman that haunted his dreams. 

His soulmate.  Their girl.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

[literaryavenger]

Captain America: Civil War - 3

Summary: The Winter Soldier gets triggered and it's up to Steve, Sam and you to make sure that Bucky doesn't get killed, doesn't kill anyone and doesn't get locked up again.

Pairing: Avengers x Reader, slight Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of violence. Language. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: Just to be clear, Bucky x Reader is my endgame, which is why I was so looking forward to get to Civil War because I knew I could get some scenes with Reader and our thicc Civil War Bucky.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

You get to the FBI bunker and get out of the SUV as Bucky’s pod is carried away by a forklift.

You and Steve both look at Bucky and, as Steve looks away, Bucky’s eyes meet yours for a second before he looks away again. All you can think about is how broken he looks, almost ashamed of his current situation.

You walk with Sam, Steve and T’Challa towards Sharon and a short man in a great suit.

“What's gonna happen to him?” You can’t help but ask.

“Same thing that ought to happen to you. Psychological evaluation and extradition.” the little man says.

“This is Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Commander.” Sharon informs us.

“What about our lawyer?” Steve asks.

“Lawyer. That's funny.” Ross says. “See their weapons are placed in lockup. Oh, we'll write you a receipt.”

“I better not look out the window and see anybody flying around in that.” Sam says as they walk away with your gear.

You see the man carrying your gear playing around with a particular gadget. “I wouldn’t touch that, if I were you.” You warn him.

Almost as if just to piss you off the man activates the gadget and gets electrocuted, falling to the ground as you start laughing with a quiet "Dumbass".

As some other agents go to help the idiot you turn back to the group, Sam is grinning too and Sharon and T’Challa seem amused but Steve and Everett are glaring at you.

“What? I told him not to touch it!” You defend yourself, but it’s very clear you’re amused and have no regrets.

You all start walking, following Ross and he starts talking. “You'll be provided with an office instead of a cell. Now, do me a favor, stay in it?”

“I don't intend on going anywhere.” T’Challa says as Natasha joins your little group.

“For the record, this is what making things worse looks like.” She says looking directly at Steve.

“He's alive.” Steve answers as we approach Tony talking on the phone. You have to give it to Steve, at least he's consistent.

“No. Romania was not Accords-sanctioned. And, Colonel Rhodes is supervising cleanup.” Tony says on the phone.

“Try not to break anything while we fix this.” Natasha tells you all and you roll your eyes at her.

“Consequences? You bet there'll be consequences. Obviously you can quote me on that 'cause I just said it. Anything else? Thank you, sir.” Tony ends the call.

“'Consequences'?” You ask as you raise your eyebrow, your tone and facial expression clearly skeptical, not believing for a second that he’s serious about this.

“Secretary Ross wants all three of you prosecuted.” Tony answers. “Had to give him something.”

And, there he is. You chuckle quietly and could swear you saw a smirk in Tony’s face for a second.

“I'm not getting that shield back, am I?” Steve asks.

“Technically, it's the government's property.” Natasha says as she starts walking away before turning to you and Sam. “Wings and gear, too.”

“That's cold.” Sam says and you groan in annoyance; you love your gear.

“Warmer than jail.” Tony yells back while walking away with Nat and you roll your eyes.

You sigh deeply and turn to the two gentlemen next to you.

“Well, this is great.” You say sarcastically and, before they can say anything, some agents escort you and Sam to the office Ross spoke of, from which you can see the security cameras on Bucky, while Steve gets taken to another room for what you assume is gonna be questioning.

-

You and Sam are seated at the table next to each other as you see Bucky’s prison pod get connected to a pipe and the light inside it dims for a moment, just as Steve comes into the room where you and Sam are.

“What did they ask you?” You ask Steve as he comes to a stop in front of the glass where he can keep an eye on Bucky.

“Nothing, I was talking to Tony.” There's a pause where none of you talk, just watching Bucky before Steve quietly says. “Wanda’s being detained at the Compound.”

“What?!” you say loudly, startling both men. “What do you mean, she's detained?!”

“I think Tony doesn't want another accident to happen, so she's currently confined to the Compound” Steve elaborates.

“Fucking Stark…” You mumble under your breath, shaking your head in disappointment as you see Tony joining Natasha in the control room with Ross. You ignore Steve’s glare at your cursing and focus on Bucky in the screens in front of you even though you can't hear anything. 

Your heart breaks a little for him at the way he’s being treated. After all Bucky’s whole situation wasn’t his choice, just a surprising amount of bad luck in the past 80 years.

After a minute Sharon enters the office you’re sitting in, handing us some papers. “The receipt for your gear.”

“‘Bird costume’? Come on!” Sam whines as you snort and laugh as he glares at you before glaring at Sharon.

“I didn’t write it.” She says defensively, then pushes a button that stops the restriction on the audio from Bucky’s cell and allows us to hear it on the little screen in the corner.

“I'm not here to judge you. I just want to ask you a few questions.” you can hear the psychiatrist say. “Do you know where you are, James? I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James.”

“My name is Bucky.” Bucky says calmly. 

It’s the first time you hear him speak clearly and your eyes are glued to the screen. His voice is deep and gruff and you can’t help but find it attractive. You take a moment to really look at him and you think to yourself, for a brainwashed psycho assassin that’s almost 100 years old, he’s really quite handsome, isn’t he?

You’re brought back to the present by Steve’s voice. “Why would the Task Force release this photo to begin with?” He’s standing in front of the monitor, looking at the blurry photo of Bucky that was released on the news.

“Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?” Sharon answers.

“Right. It's a good way to flush a guy out of hiding.” Steve continues. “Set off a bomb, get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier.”

“You're saying someone framed him to find him?” You say with a frown, trying to follow his train of thought.

“Steve, we looked for the guy for two years and found nothing.” Sam points out.

“We didn't bomb the UN.” You point out absentmindedly. 

“That turns a lot of heads.” Steve adds.

“Yeah, but that doesn't guarantee that whoever framed him would get him. It guarantees that we would.” Sharon says before trailing off and all of our attention drifts back to the screen where Bucky is being questioned by the psychiatrist. 

“Yeah.” Steve says quietly.

“Tell me, Bucky. You've seen a great deal, haven't you?” the doctor asks.

“I don't want to talk about it.” Bucky says quietly.

“You fear that… if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don't worry.” The doctor taps his tablet to see something and you frown, everyone else’s expressions mirroring yours. “We only have to talk about one.”

Suddenly the lights go out in the bunker and you all look around confused. You can see people freaking out in the control room, Tony using FRIDAY through his glasses and Natasha looking around.

You look at Sharon and she simply says “Sub-level 5, east wing.” And you, Sam and Steve rapidly exit the room and head towards Bucky.

You arrive outside the chamber, red emergency lights flashing all around and agents slumped on the floor, all out cold.

You hear a feeble “Help me” and see the psychiatrist on the floor, clearly conscious, asking for help. Steve steps towards him and enters the room where Bucky's pod is, you barely enter it and Sam is right behind you at the threshold.

“Get up” He says and harshly grabs the doctor, shoving him against the wall. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“To see an empire fall.” Is all he says.

Suddenly there's movement behind you and you quickly turn around just in time to avoid Sam getting thrown into you and he lands against the pod instead. 

You barely have time to react when you feel a punch in the stomach and stagger backwards against the wall, knocking the air out of you. You slide down on it and take a second to compose yourself as Steve starts fighting Bucky.

After what feels like a second Bucky sends Steve down an elevator and walks away. You groan and quickly get up, going to the elevator first.

“Please be alive, Rogers!” You shout down, as you try to look down.

“I’m okay!” He shouts back and you let out a breath of relief. “Find him!”

You don’t waste a second and run after him, catching up to him as he’s beating up a guard.

You put yourself in the middle of it after Bucky gets the better hand on the agent and takes his baton, you kick Bucky on the stomach but he barely moves.

At least you have his attention now and, when he looks at you, his eyes seem empty and void of any emotions. That’s not the same person you saw before. Those are not the same eyes you met when you got to the bunker. 

You hesitate for a second and that’s enough for him to get the upper hand, grabbing you and throwing you over a table. He has a gun you assume he took from the other agent and aims it at you but, just as he’s about to pull the trigger, he gets disoriented by a stun-burst from Tony,that makes you cover your ears, then there’s a flash of light and then Bucky and Tony are fighting.

You take a moment to breathe and suddenly Tony’s on the ground and you go to him to make sure he’s okay while Natasha and Sharon take care of Bucky.

“Are you okay?” You ask him, worried, helping him sit up.

“Just dandy.” He says breathlessly.

Both of your attentions go to Sharon when she gets slammed into a table next to you and you both go to her. She’s conscious but before you can say anything, she points to something behind you and you turn around to see Bucky getting tackled off of Natasha by T’Challa.

You get up and go to Natasha as she’s taking in deep breaths after Bucky almost choked her, you help her sit up before turning around but both Bucky and T’Challa are already gone.

When you turn back to Natasha, she’s already looking at you. “Go” is all she says and you know she’s right, you should go before you get detained again. 

You nod to her and all but run outside, where you see Sam just standing there in the middle of the running crowd. You go to him and, when he notices you, he shows you a hoodie that you assume to be the psychiatrist’s.

“I lost the doctor.” He confirms your theory.

“I lost the soldier.” You tell him and he sighs, as you both look around.

“We should get out of here” He says after a moment, looking at a group of guards.

You follow his line of sight and when you notice the guards too, you say “Yes, we should.” and you both start almost running, putting as much distance between yourselves and the FBI as you can.

-[Time skip to when they’re in the warehouse because I’m lazy and don’t want to make up all the stuff in the middle]-

While Steve and Sam wait for Bucky to regain consciousness you go to look for a first aid kit.

You’re all mostly fine, but Bucky has a cut in the forehead that Steve informed you occurred when he hit the windshield of a chopper, which is why he is unconscious.

It takes you a little time to get back to the abandoned warehouse they’re hiding in because of the pain in your torso, which you’re pretty sure is because your ribs are bruised.

By the time you’re back Bucky is awake and his metal arm is free. You hear him talking as you get closer to the room they’re in and the last thing he says is “You’d never see them coming.” before the three men notice you.

You completely enter the room, standing next to Sam but your eyes don’t leave Bucky, rightfully wary of the man.

“Don’t worry, he’s back to himself.” Steve says when he notices your careful and calculated moves.

“I am worried. He also tried to kill me as himself.” You say, looking away from Bucky and to the two men next to you.

“I wasn’t trying to kill you, I was trying not to get captured by you.” Bucky addresses you directly for the first time ever with an accusatory tone.

“Semantics.” You answer, looking back at him and narrowing your eyes. Your defiant, but admittedly childish, answer seems to surprise Bucky but it gets a chuckle out of Sam and a groan out of Steve.

“Just… please.” Steve says to you, almost begging you. “Help him.”

You roll your eyes and groan, mumbling an annoyed “Fine.” while cautiously moving towards Bucky. As you kneel in front of him and open the first aid kit you can hear Steve and Sam talking, but pay them no mind.

“You know I’m a supersoldier, right?” Bucky asks you quietly.

“Supersoldiers can bleed too.” you say while looking down and not at him, looking through the stuff in the kit. “The image of an unconscious and beaten up Steve in a hospital bed comes to mind.”

He knows you’re talking about Steve’s conditions after the whole Project Insight situation in DC, and you can tell he feels bad about it as he instantly looks away from you.

“Sorry,” you say with a sigh “That was mean.”

He seems to perk up a little at your apology and looks back at you.

“It’s okay.” You look up at him. “I kind of deserved it.”

You smile a little at this, and start to take out the stuff you’ll need as you say “You kind of did.”

You go to clean his cut but wince slightly, you almost forgot about your injuries. You take a deep breath and start carefully cleaning his cut and the blood off his forehead.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks you quietly, seemingly concerned that you’re in pain.

“Don’t worry.” You tell him just as quietly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle, Sergeant.”

“I bet you can, doll.” You almost feel like you imagined the nickname, but you’re positive you saw a grin on his face for half a second.

You can feel his eyes glued to your face as you take care of his cut, silently watching you work. You almost feel like he’s memorizing every detail of your face, like he’s trying to figure out everything about you right in that instance. 

When you’re done you take a second to look into his eyes, expecting him to look away, but he holds your gaze and you feel your heart skip a beat by the intensity of his stare. After a moment you slowly get up, your eyes still locked on his and take a step back.

When you finally turn around you see Steve watching your interaction with a very curious look and, when you meet his eyes, he raises an eyebrow at you. You roll your eyes and ignore his silent question, getting closer to him and looking around for Sam, who you see just outside the room on the phone.

“Who’s he talking to?” You ask Steve.

“Don’t know” He shrugs. “Just said he knew a guy.” 

A second later Sam gets closer as he ends the call.

“Alright, thanks, Scott.” He says and hangs up.

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Scott? Really?” You ask smirking and he groans, rolling his eyes while Steve just looks at us confused at why you’re so amused by this because he still doesn’t know about the time Scott breached the Compound and kicked Sam’s ass.

-

“I’m just saying, this isn’t really the most practical getaway car…” You say as the four of you make your way to meet Sharon in an old Volkswagen Beetle.

“It’s low profile” Steve defends his choice from in front of you, Bucky in the backseat to your right and Sam in front of him in the passenger’s seat.

“It’s really not, Steve.” you say back as Steve groans, prompting a snicker from Sam and, surprisingly, from Bucky too. You’re about to point out that this old car sticks out when Steve parks and gets out to talk to Sharon.

You can’t hear what they’re saying but you can see them looking at the Buggy for a second before Sharon opens the trunk of her car. Your joy about seeing your gear is a little overshadowed by Bucky’s voice as he talks to Sam.

“Can you move your seat up?” He asks, surprisingly polite.

“No.” Is all Sam says, being the petty bitch that he is. You roll your eyes at him, you get that the last time a car was involved with Bucky in the mix it didn’t go great, but still.

“Here, switch with me.” You tell Bucky and pull him to the middle seat, then climb over him to slide into his seat, being sure to smack Sam in the back of his head as you go and smirking at the loud “Ow” he lets out. You look back at Bucky and see him blushing slightly and you can’t help but smile.

When you look back at Steve and Sharon you can see them kissing and you let out an amused giggle. It looks like Captain Virgin finally got some.

They talk for another second before Sharon goes to her car and Steve turns to the three of you as you all smirk and you even wink at him. You can see him groan and roll his eyes before grabbing your gear and putting it in the trunk of the Buggy.

When he gets into the driver’s seat the only thing he says is “Not one word.” while the three of you quietly laugh but don’t tease him further.

He drives off and you look out the window, knowing that the hardest part is about to come. Whatever comes next sure won’t be as fun. 

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes @aki-ham

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Caught In A Web ~ 25

CAUGHT IN A WEB MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,054ish

Summary: The aftermath of Tony hearing how you don't feel safe.

Notes: I'm going out of town this weekend, so this will be the last update until Monday or Tuesday. Hope you enjoy! And please share your thoughts, feelings, etc on it!

When Bucky woke up in the morning, he headed for the lab to check with Tony. He was shocked to find it destroyed. Natasha was in it cleaning up.

“What the hell happened?” He asked.

“Tony freaked,” Natasha answered, still cleaning up.

“I can see that. Why?”

Natasha sighed. “Y/N broke down about how she doesn’t feel safe, and Tony watched it over the cameras.”

“Shit.”

“Shit doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

“Where’s Tony now?”

“Well, I had put him to bed, but then he snuck out with the Iron Man suit. FRIDAY isn’t allowed to inform us as to his whereabouts.”

“Y/N can’t see this.”

“Why do you think I’m cleaning it up? I also have Wanda with her. She’s going to keep her asleep until the new glass arrives in an hour.”

“When are the rest of the Team arriving?”

“They’re close. I’m calling a Team meeting upon immediate arrival.”

“Good,” Bucky nodded. “Now, what can I help with?”

~~~

Steve had on his Captain persona; the others could tell by how his jaw was set and the way he was standing. He was standing in the front of the room at the end of the large conference table. Bucky, Sam, Vision, Bruce, Happy, Rhodey, and Natasha sat around the table. The others believed he was portraying himself as the Captain to help himself handle the situation.

“Will Wanda be joining us?” Happy asked.

“I asked her to stay with Y/N,” Natasha answered, “keeping her asleep until we figure something out.”

“Smart.”

“Has anyone found information on Tony’s whereabouts?” Steve questioned.

“No,” Rhodey replied. “I’m using some available military resources to track him. Nothing so far.”

“FRIDAY is still blocking any information on Tony,” Natasha added.

“We need a plan—multiple plans,” Steve stated. “First plan is security, for here and the Tower.” Aerial views of the Compound and the Tower appeared on the screen behind Steve. “I have agents lining the perimeters of both properties, pushing the press back. I have them across the river, preventing them from hiding in the trees.”

“I’ve contacted the military,” Fury stated as he barged into the room. “They are adding reinforcements.”

“Two of your Team members were down for weeks and now you decide to show your face.”

“I figured I’d let you guys simmer.” Fury went to the chair opposite Steve and sat down. “Clearly, you needed more time.”

“Besides extra military help, do you have any other information for us? Director?” Natasha’s voice was scarily calm, but her eyes were daggers pointed at Fury.

“Yes, in fact I do. Stark is in Malibu. He’s been at his old house site, cleaning it up. Surprised none of you thought to check there.”

“Someone should go to Malibu,” Steve stated.

“I’ll do it,” both Rhodey and Bucky offered. Everyone was shocked at Bucky’s words.

“Are you sure, Bucky?”

He shrugged. “Stark and I have been getting along lately. Plus, manual labor sounds like a good way to clear my head.”

“Rhodes, are you okay with that?”

“If Barnes feels like he can handle Tony, then by all means,” Rhodey replied. "Everyone here knows I’ve done my time.”

“Great, Barnes, you’re on Stark duty.”

Bucky nodded and stood up. “Wish me luck,” he said before leaving.

“I’ve called the therapists,” Bruce said. “They are on their way.”

“Good,” Steve nodded. “I’m going to be honest here, guys, I… I’m at a loss. This is something that I don’t have experience with. I want to help Tony and Y/N and lead the cause as your Captain, but I don’t know how.”

“You’re doing good, Captain,” Vision commented.

“Thanks, Viz. I wish I knew how to do more.”

“Y/N will need time,” Natasha said, “and we need to honor that. She’s not used to this life and may never be… Tony will need time, but we all know he can’t be alone for long. He plays it tough, but he is the one who cares most of all.” She sighed. “We’ll get them through this; I know it.”

~~~

You woke up in your room, alone. You felt well-rested, which was a surprise. Sitting up, you could tell that the room had been cleaned up. It was mid-morning, and you were surprised that Tony hadn’t come to check on you, maybe get you up for breakfast. You left your room and headed to the common room. You could hear the other Team members before you could see them. They were laughing and talking; it made you feel okay for a moment.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam greeted the first one to notice you.

“Hey,” you replied, shooting him a smile. You walked over and sat next to Wanda on the couch. “I know what you did.”

“What did I do?” Wanda wondered, you missed the caution in her gaze.

“You helped me sleep. It’s the best night I’ve had in a while. Thank you.”

She smiled at you. “You’re welcome.”

You looked around and noted who was all there. Two people were missing. “Where’s Tony? And Bucky?” You didn’t fail to miss the looks the others shared. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“Y/N,” Bruce came over and sat in front of you. “Tony’s in Malibu.”

“What? Why?”

He sighed, glancing at Natasha. “Y/N, he heard what you shared with Nat and Wanda.”

You gasped, unable to keep the tears at bay. “He did?”

“He was going to check on us,” Natasha began, coming to sit beside Bruce across from you. “Tony wanted to make sure that you were okay and heard everything.”

“No, no,” you shook your head. “He—“

“Y/N,” Natasha grabbed your hands, not caring if there was a chance her hands would get stuck to you. “Tony destroyed the lab and then disappeared. Fury found him in Malibu, and Bucky went to talk to him.”

“B—Bucky?”

“Bucky thinks he could talk to him,” Steve said.

“But… why did he run? Nat… why did he run away? He said he’d stay…” The emotions were taking control of you. “He promised… I knew he would take it hard… I didn’t think he’d run…” 

You broke down, and Bruce held you close. Natasha still had a hold of your hands and was now stuck to you. The others watched with great sadness at the sight. None of them knew how to fix this, but they would do everything possible to try.

~~~

Tony had pants and a tank top on as he cleaned up the weeds that littered what was left of his Malibu house. There was nothing but some cement foundation, but he would clean it all. He didn’t bring any of his tech besides the suit he used to fly there. When he decided to head there, he swung by a home improvement store to buy some needed tools. It wasn’t enough to get what Tony wanted done, but it would do the job for now. He just needed to do anything besides continuing to fail you.

When the quinjet landed, Tony failed to notice. Bucky lowered the ramp and leaned against the opening, watching Tony for a moment. It was clear to Bucky that Tony was running on fumes. Bucky had gone to the store to grab food and other necessities before he came to Malibu, knowing that Tony would need it. Eventually, Bucky walked to Tony, stopping not too far away. He watched Tony use a sledgehammer to try to break up the thick concrete.

“I don’t think you have the strength to break that concrete, Stark,” Bucky commented. Tony ignored him. “You’re going to hurt yourself. I don’t want to bring you back injured; everyone will think it's my fault.”

“Don’t care,” Tony murmured, continuing.

“Hey, come on, man.” 

Bucky’s metal hand caught the sledgehammer in mid-swing and easily pulled the tool from Tony’s hands. Tony’s arms slapped down against his thighs, and his shoulders shagged. Bucky had never seen this ever-so-confident man look so defeated. He was broken, and Bucky didn’t know how to put him back together.

“How’d you get stuck with this job?” Tony said, sitting down where he stood. “Rock paper scissors?”

“I, uh, I actually volunteered.”

Tony scoffed. “Really? We aren’t exactly friends, Barnes. That means I don’t have to listen to you.”

“And I don’t have to listen to you.”

Tony moved his jaw around before clenching it. “Did you bring anything to drink?”

Bucky cocked his head towards the quinjet. “There’s some lite beers in the quinjet.”

“Lite? Seriously?”

“I’m just thinking of your health.”

“Says the hundred-year-old man with a metal arm.”

Tony pushed himself from the ground, and the two men walked towards the quinjet. Bucky grabbed two cans of beer, handing one to Tony. They sat on opposite sides of the aircraft, opened their cans, and took a sip. Both of the men cringed at the taste.

“This is awful,” Tony commented before taking another sip. 

“The beer or this situation?” 

Tony took a moment before responding. “Both.”

“What’s your plan here? In Malibu? In running away?”

“This house used to be my safe place. Yes, it’s in Malibu, but still. No one just showed up, even the press. There were things in place here. I was allowed my privacy.”

“There’s no house here anymore.”

“Yeah, I let a terrorist know my home address.”

“Wow,” Bucky chuckled, shaking his head, “not a smart idea.”

“Tell me about it.” Tony finished off his drink, throwing the can to the side. 

“Y/N’s struggling.”

“I heard her struggle… every word.”

“So you ran away? Do you really think this will help?”

“Like I said, this used to be my safe place… I got in my suit and flew here. It was like I was on autopilot. Got some tools and started working.”

“On what, exactly?”

“Rebuilding. I’m going to rebuild this mansion. For me… For Y/N. It will be a place where she can feel safe. Away from the Avengers, the big city. I am going to make sure she has a safe place.”

“You left. You are her safe place, and you left.”

“Clearly, I’m not doing a good job at it… She doesn’t feel safe, Barnes. I don’t know if she’ll ever feel safe with me—with the life I live… I can’t go back until I have somewhere for her to go… This is my last shot, Barnes. My last hope… then I’ll let her go.”

“I don’t think Romanoff with stand for that, or the rest of the Team.”

“Well, they don’t get a say.”

Silence fell between the two men. Both of them were fighting different wars in their head. Tony stood up and grabbed the bag of tools that Bucky had brought.

“You can leave, Barnes,” he said, heading down the ramp. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

Bucky sighed, standing up and following the man. He took off his shirt, grabbed the sledgehammer, and hit the concrete, cracking it. Tony and Bucky shared a look of understanding before continuing to work.

~~~

“He what?” Steve was on the phone with Bucky. Natasha was pacing the room, trying not to listen in. “Seriously? Do the two of you need any help?”

“Help?” Natasha paused her pacing. “With what?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll grab Sam and Rhodey, and we’ll head there. See you soon.” Steve hung up.

“What is going on?”

“Uh… Tony’s rebuilding his Malibu mansion… by hand.”

“What? Why?”

“Bucky is saying that it’s for Y/N, for her safety. I think that it’s a distraction. Bucky wants Sam, Rhodey, and I to come and help.”

“What am I supposed to tell Y/N?”

“Honestly, Nat, I have no idea. I’ll try to get more serious information out of Tony, but for right now, here is probably the best place for her.”

“Wanda had to force her into a sleep to calm her down, Steve.”

“When she wakes, keep her distracted. Do something to help her feel safe, something that she can control.” Steve sighed. “We can only do so much to make her feel physically safe; there’s still mentally and emotionally. Make sure she’s visiting her therapist, and I’ll keep you updated on Tony… we’ll get them through it. I have to believe that, or there’s really no hope for the rest of us.”

next chapter >

[aurumacadicus]

Well I lied it's the evening lol. It's a bit angsty which is why I didn't post it on Christmas but it's fine for now probably. It's just over 3K so watch out for the cut!

--

Tony’s Christmas present was delivered two weeks after they broke up.

Steve stared at it, wondering what to do. It was a painting he’d done, something to try out watercolor with. He’d planned the view of the skyline from the tower, but he hadn’t really liked his work. Even now, he could admit he’d been too ambitious with his first project, colors muddling together into unplanned browns. But Tony had loved it, especially when Steve had painted a tiny red spot flying over the buildings when he finally gave up on realism, had gushed over it until he’d forlornly watched Steve put it away with the other paintings he was disgruntled with for not working.

Steve had gotten it framed professionally for him when he realized how much Tony had loved it, had even picked out a spot in his bedroom where it could be hung. At the time, the choice was partly because he knew Tony loved it, but mostly because Tony was so supportive when he tried anything new. He wanted to let Tony know he appreciated it, and the painting had even grown on him when he was looking at it and remembering Tony’s compliments—how much he’d improved between the blues of the bases of the buildings and the splotchy peach sunset behind them, how charming it was that the thickness of his outlines changed, how obvious his intentions were behind his mistakes.

Steve didn’t know what to do with it now. Their relationship ending hadn’t been… explosive. He still lived in his apartment in the tower. They still worked and fought together. They just… stopped being close. He stopped staying the night. Meals together didn’t happen unless it was a team event. Things between them were… okay. Fine, even.

Maybe fine enough he could still give the painting to him, Steve thought, considering. It could be an olive branch. Steve couldn’t imagine keeping it, now, but he also couldn’t imagine giving it to anyone else, either. Maybe he could just… leave it for Tony, and Tony could decide what to do with it.

Steve still had clearance to the penthouse, but so did the rest of the team, so he tried not to read into it too much. Besides, it was just a quick in-and-out. A delivery, he could call it, if Tony asked. He wondered where to leave it. He didn’t want to just leave it out for anyone to find. But he also didn’t want to hang it where he’d planned, because that seemed too intimate. Finally, he decided to just leave it leaning against the wall where he’d meant to hang it. Hopefully Tony would understand that meant it was his to do with as he wished, even if it was just to throw it out.

“JARVIS, call Mama Rhodes,” Tony’s voice suddenly called out, clipped, and Steve nearly jumped out of his skin. Tony was already supposed to be gone. He looked around frantically for a place to hide, suddenly feeling like he was intruding, and finally ducked into Tony’s bathroom.

“Yes, Sir,” JARVIS replied after a moment, and then there was the sound of a line ringing.

Steve cautiously took a step closer to the door and peered out, ready to duck back out of sight. Tony was pulling his suitcase out of the closet, along with a handful of clothes—casual things, he thought, denim and cotton and flannel. Comfy clothes.

“You’re late,” a warm, amused voice said as soon as she picked up. Steve couldn’t help but feel a little wistful; he was supposed to meet Mrs. Rhodes for Christmas. Colonel Rhodes had given him an approving little nod when Tony had asked if he could bring Steve. He’d ridden that high for days.

“I know, I—a party ran late, and then I had to put out a couple of fires in R&D,” Tony answered, stuffing his things into his suitcase. “I’m packing right now, and then I’ll—take the train?”

“Oh, you can bring a car if you want, honey,” Mrs. Rhodes replied. “Traffic’s not bad. It’ll be about the same as the train.”

“Okay,” Tony answered, harried. “I’m sorry. I’ll be there in a couple hours.”

“You’ll still be here in time for coffee and cake,” Mrs. Rhodes answered. There was a long pause as Tony scrambled over to grab his underwear and socks, but finally, softly, she asked, “And… your beau? Steve? Is he coming with you or arriving separately?”

Steve dropped the painting he was still holding in shock. Luckily, Tony shut the drawer of his dresser loudly at the same time, so he didn’t notice. Mrs. Rhodes still thought he was coming? Tony hadn’t told her they’d broken up? They’d split just after Thanksgiving. He’d had weeks to tell her.

“…Steve…” Tony began, and his knuckles had gone white where he was gripping his underwear. He hesitated, then straightened his shoulders, expression flat. “Steve was called away on a mission.”

Steve gaped at him. That was a bald-faced lie. He was not on a mission. They were broken up.

“Oh, honey, it’s Christmas,” Mrs. Rhodes sighed.

“Hydra doesn’t take holidays,” Tony insisted. “He wouldn’t have gone, but it was really important. He wanted to come to meet you, Mama.”

“Hmm,” Mrs. Rhodes responded, clearly not believing it. “Well. Jim will be very disappointed. He wanted to see if Steve fit on the hide-a-bed.”

Tony let out a bark of reluctant laughter, face falling. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked miserable. “Well. He said he’d try to make it in time for your New Years Eve party.”

“If he doesn’t make it, there’s always the fourth of July,” Mrs. Rhodes answered, kind and putout somehow at the same time. “And before you say anything, I know it’s his birthday. I could make him a cake!”

“He likes strawberry rhubarb pie better,” Tony said, walking over to stuff his underwear into his suitcase. “Mama, I’m gonna get on the road. I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll hide a slice of cake with a carrot decoration from Carol for you,” Mrs. Rhodes assured him, and then, “Drive safely, honey.”

“I’m Iron Man. I’m not gonna die on the I-95,” Tony grumbled.

“Drive safely,” Mrs. Rhodes repeated, in that way that all mothers did when their children were being sassy and they had no patience for it.

“Yes’m,” Tony answered obediently, and his shoulders sagged as the call clicked off.

Steve sank back into the bathroom, mind whirling at the fact that Tony hadn’t told what was, ostensibly, his family about their breakup. And he hadn’t taken the chance to set the record straight even when Mrs. Rhodes had asked about it. Instead, he’d… lied. Had acted as if nothing was wrong between them, that they were still dating and Steve had still wanted to go. Why?

It was too much. Steve couldn’t make sense of it, and he knew it would eat away at him the entire time Tony was gone. He would take his lumps for being in Tony’s penthouse. He just needed to know.

“Why didn’t you tell her we broke up?” he asked, stepping out of the bathroom.

Tony jumped, both feet leaving the ground, and he stared at Steve in shock as he turned to face him. “Steve?! What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“Wanted to drop off your present,” Steve answered brusquely. “Why didn’t you tell her we broke up?”

Tony’s mouth flapped uselessly. For a moment, he looked angry, and Steve was sure he’d be told in no uncertain terms to fuck off. Finally, though, he just… sagged, sad and defeated, and answered, “I didn’t want to ruin Christmas again.”

Steve frowned, confused. “What?”

Tony sucked in a breath. It sounded wet, but Steve couldn’t be sure, because Tony turned back to his suitcase, stuffing clothes into it without finesse. “Christmas… sucks. It just does. It’s like people forget I’m Tony Stark until Black Friday and they’re shocked I have to go to work. They’re shocked I still have to publicly mourn my parents. They’re shocked I have to go to every charity event I’m invited to. I barely have time to sleep, let alone spend time with someone else. And it makes them realize that this will be their life. Every December is going to mean being lonely because I have to work. So I have to tell the Rhodes that the reason I’m showing up alone is because I’ve been broken up with, and they say ‘oh, honey,’ and they try to take my mind off it, but I know I’m just a huge downer every year.

“And I just thought,” Tony added, sucking in another wet breath, and Steve’s heart broke when he saw his shoulders begin to shake. “I thought maybe they’d let it go. If I pretended everything was fine, and you were just out of town, it would be okay. I’d tell them we broke up in January and everything would be fine.”

“Tony,” Steve whispered, carefully stepping closer. It made sense, even as it made him feel sick. Part of the reason they’d broken up was because they weren’t seeing each other outside of battle. It made for difficult conversations, always keyed up with no downtime to decompress. Steve thought the only thing Tony had said that was wrong was that it started right after Thanksgiving—he’d gotten busy long before November. But maybe, if he was so used to it, it seemed that way to him. Steve reached out, meaning to take Tony’s elbow, turn him to face him.

Tony seemed to sense it, flinching away and spinning back toward him. “Please,” he whispered back. “Please let me tell them you’re just out of town. It’s Carol’s first Christmas with the Rhodes. I don’t want to ruin this for her.”

He wasn’t crying, Steve noticed in relief, even though he looked like one wrong move would send him cascading over the edge. He opened his mouth, then closed it again when Tony’s shoulders fell, as if expecting him to turn him down. What had he called it in that last fight? ‘Your inability to even see other people’s moral standards’ and ‘your expectation for them to bend to yours.’ Tony thought he’d be so offended by the lie that he didn’t care if it ruined anyone’s family Christmas. Steve didn’t want to know if he could feel any lower than he did.

“Of course, Tony,” he said instead, and it hurt a little that Tony visibly relaxed in relief, but he figured he deserved it. He opened his mouth again, to apologize for being just another person who let him down when he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t be, but that would be too selfish, he thought. “I hope you have fun,” he said instead, and he meant it. He hoped it didn’t sound snide or trite.

“I always have fun with the Rhodes,” Tony offered, turning back to his suitcase. He fiddled with his clothes for a moment, then glanced up at Steve out of the corner of his eye. “You won’t be alone?”

Steve felt his heart do a flip. Even hurting, Tony was concerned about him being alone for the holidays. “I thought I might go with Natasha to the farm.”

“Good. That’s… good,” Tony said, playing with the zipper on his bag. Finally, he let out a little, overwhelmed sniff and zipped it closed with finality. “I have to get going. I’m already late.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed quietly. He didn’t want Tony driving the icy roads in the dark.

“If you…” he trailed off, then sighed, shaking his head as he hefted his suitcase up. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“Merry Christmas,” Steve echoed, unable to do anything but watch him leave. He thought about telling him about the painting before he was gone, then decided against it. It might be too much; Tony was already fragile. It would be there when he came back, after all.

He went into the bathroom to retrieve it, smoothing his thumb over the splotchy facsimile of the armor, then carefully leaned it up against the wall where he thought it would go best.

.-.

No one said anything about Steve not being there until New Year’s Eve, and Tony was grateful. He’d managed to forget the hurt for a while, even, playing with Lila and talking sports with Terrance. Roberta didn’t even say anything when he came in for a ‘mom hug,’ long and lingering, her nails scratching along his scalp soothingly.

“I appreciate it, man,” Jim said, clapping him on the shoulder gently. “Carol was really nervous about meeting the family. You can tell me what’s really going on, though. Is Steve actually dealing with Hydra?”

Tony twisted his champagne glass in his fingers quietly, frowning. “Well…”

Jim said nothing for a moment, then gave his shoulder a firmer squeeze. “Okay. So who are you going to kiss at midnight, then?” he asked, giving him the out instead of forcing him to admit anything.

Tony tipped his head back to blink up at him in confusion. “Huh?”

“Literally my girlfriend is here Tony,” Jim sighed, shaking his head. There was a smile curling at the corners of his mouth, though. “I’m going to be kissing her.”

Carol swiveled from where she’d been talking to Monica and Lila, squinting at them skeptically. “Did you just insinuate that you and Tony kiss each other on New Year’s Eve?”

“Reluctantly, I’m confirming it,” Jim sighed.

“How come everything about you guys is weird?” Monica asked, more curious than judgmental.

“You get used to it,” Lila assured her.

Monica didn’t look convinced, but she also didn’t argue. “Alright.”

“I’m kissing Carol,” Jim told Tony flatly.

Tony sighed, glancing around the room. Terrance and Roberta would kiss. They always did. He and Lila used to give each other a kiss on the cheek, but she was currently at that tender age where adults were gross in general, and family especially. He was, apparently, very uncool. He contended this would change when the next StarkPhone came out, but he also wasn’t going to push it with a pubescent teenage girl. He was kind of scared of them and especially of Lila because she’d already muttered judgmentally about his goatee.

He perked up when he noticed Maria talking with Roberta. “Maybe—”

“No,” Maria answered firmly, not turning around.

Tony crossed his arms in a pout, turning a scowl on Jim. “Well. No one I guess.”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” Carol asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

For a moment, Tony felt caught out, even though he knew she was just reminding him of social mores like everyone else and not pointing a finger in his face and telling everyone he was single again. He felt a cold sweat come over him, that she’d announce to the room at large that he was a failure and a liar for not admitting his relationship was over before Christmas.

“That’s honestly never stopped us,” Jim cut in, before he could out himself, and slung an arm over Tony’s shoulders in solidarity. “Or, well, Tony.”

“Tony’s always passed out kisses like candy,” Lila confirmed with a resolute nod, and Tony heard Terrance and Roberta both sigh. It maybe sounded fond. He wasn’t going to read into it.

Carol’s mouth flattened into an unimpressed line. “Every fffricking day there’s something weird about you guys to learn.”

“That fricking was very natural,” Tony assured her, because she’d already received several side-eyes for her swearing.

Carol lifted her fist, but even just a ‘playful’ nudge to the arm was painful, so when the doorbell rang at the same time, Tony shoved his champagne into Jim’s hand and scurried to answer it. It could be some neighbors with some black-eyed peas for them to eat in the new year. He didn’t understand the tradition, but Roberta always made her famous jalapeño-honey cornbread to go with it, so who was he to complain?

But it wasn’t tiny Mrs. Mathers at the door with a Tupperware full of beans. Tony blinked, staring at the broad chest in front of him, then tipped his head back. His mouth dropped open a little in shock when he recognized who, exactly, was standing in front of him

“Did I miss it?” Steve asked breathlessly.

“Huh?” Tony answered dumbly.

Steve reached toward him, and Tony noticed a duffle bag hanging from his arm dropping to the ground at the action. He blinked, too stunned to react with anything more. Steve should be at the Barton farm, he thought dimly. Or… somewhere else. Not here. Not with him.

Steve’s hands were cradling his face, and his expression was so tender. Tony stared up at him, confused and alarmed. Maybe he’d been taken over by body snatchers or something? They weren’t like this anymore. They’d broken up almost a month ago.

“Tony,” Steve said gently. “This was the worst month of my life. I hated not being with you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Tony blinked again, a hand drifting up to cover one of Steve’s. “Surely not worse than that month of food poisoning,” he began, voice a croak.

“That wasn’t food poisoning,” Steve corrected, like he always did, but he sounded fond instead of annoyed like he used to. “It was just poisoning. I was being poisoned.” The smile playing at his lips fell. “You put up with me while I was pissy and sick, and I couldn’t do the same when you got busy with work. I’m sorry. I want to do better, I… Will you let me? Can we try again?”

“It will be the same thing every year,” Tony sighed, frowning.

“Next year, I’ll be prepared,” Steve told him firmly. “Next year, I’ll know better. Next year, I’ll help.”

“Steve,” Tony began, even as he leaned his face into Steve’s grip. He wanted to believe him, was the thing. Up until the end, things had been so good. Steve had been so sweet, so attentive, so kind. And he’d thought he’d been a pretty good boyfriend too. But things hadn’t been working, at the end, both of them testy and on edge, without enough time to decompress from battle, work, each other. “I want to… but—”

“Please just give us one more chance,” Steve whispered, pressing closer, bending so he could lean their foreheads together. “One more. And if it doesn’t work, then that’s that. And I’ll be the one to come tell everyone, so you don’t ruin Christmas, okay? It’ll be me. I’ll ruin Christmas.”

Tony’s resulting laugh was shaky, but he had to admit it was the first truly genuine one he’d managed since they’d broken up. “Steve…”

“Please,” Steve begged, and then, “But obviously if you say no, that’s okay too. But I just thought… we both decided to call it quits. I thought maybe we could both decide to try again.” He hesitated, then leaned back a little, quietly asking, “Do you want to?”

Steve had been leaving a Christmas present for him the last time he’d seen him, Tony remembered, and he could feel his cheeks heating. He’d been thinking about it in every spare moment he had. It had to be something special, if he didn’t want Tony to open it in front of the rest of the team when they came back in the new year. It had to mean he was earnest. But did that mean he wanted to try again? After everything?

Steve’s palms were still warm against his cheeks, and Tony couldn’t help but sag into his grip. “Okay,” he whispered, and then, “I didn’t have anyone to kiss at midnight, anyway.”

“Rude,” Steve griped, but there was humor in his tone. “I want to kiss you all the time. Everyone should have been jumping at the chance.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, laughing a little, and then laughed harder into Steve’s mouth when he lunged in for a kiss.

[irondadfics]

#fic find #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #steve Roger’s #natasha romanoff #sam Wilson #wanda maximoff #tony stark #peter Parker #irondad and spiderson #tony stark acting as Peter Parker’s parental figure #peter Parker needs a hug #kidnapped Tony stark #canon divergence #on hiatus #discontinued?  Hi there! I’ve been looking for a fic set after the film captain america:civil war where Tony stark gets kidnapped, and the rogues, minus ant man and bucky try to help find him despite being in hiding. And I can’t remember who brings him in, but either Rhodes or Natasha bring in spider-man to help the search. Wilson, at first, is like “hell no that is an infant” and Peter gets super rambly yet sincere and gives a passionate speech, essentially, and now he is aboard! More bonding happens between them and spidey, and by the time they find Tony in a bunker, he’s basically on their team entirely- however Tony was actively escaping, and when they walked up to the massive vault door spider-man hears AC/DC and gets weepy like “Mr stark!!!” And straight up busts the door down and goes tearing thru the facility before the rest can stop him. Cue emotional reunion, where he rips off his mask, shocked pikachu face, and Sam is just like “holy shit he really is an infant”.

sorry for the wait. Could this possibly be your fic?

Everybody's Fine by Fluencca

Every time Tony comes-to he gasps, like a drowning man desperate for air. There are shadows, and moving shapes that won’t come into focus, and soft hands that roughly shove pills into his mouth and then hold it shut, crushing his nose until he swallows. He does, but the hands never let up. * Tony and Steve have been taken from opposite sides of the world, and Peter, Rhodey and Happy team up with Sam and Nat to find their missing friends. People meet Peter for the first time, Peter meets them, fun times are had by all. Except, well, Tony. And Steve, probably.

[ussgallifrey]

(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 31

✦ Summary: Your badge clearly said SHIELD consultant, so you weren’t entirely sure where Fury was getting this whole make you an Avenger idea from. But you had a feeling it might have something to do with the recent discovery of an artifact at the bottom of the Arctic Sea.

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Alcoholism, canon divergence, dialogue taken directly from Captain America: Civil War and the Marvel Civil War comic, drunk Tony Stark, language, mentions of dead bodies, political discourse, shady government dealings.

✦ Word Count: 8.2k

✦ Playlist: Here

✦ Cinematic Soundtrack: Here

✦ Author's Note: Whoop, sorry about the lapse in updates and activity. I'm in the full school-prepping swing over here right now and I've spent the last three weeks deep in curriculum and lesson planning for my kids. But with a little bit of inspiration I was able to finish this chapter tonight - it may or may not have been sitting in my drafts since early July...

[Master List]

There’s a certain strangeness that occurs when one finds themselves in the shell of a once lively location. A place that previously held signs of exuberant life - joyous laughter ringing through warm halls, the wafting aromas of food laid out on a table, the busyness that occurs when people are constantly on the move.

You know that sensation; that eerie skeleton.

You’ve found it many times before. In the ruins of the Parthenon after the Germans invaded and raised their flag aloft. In the silence of Apollo’s temple, when you stood under the painted dome, staring up at a golden sun without so much as a wisp of familiarity to remind you of his existence.

That same feeling of abandoned life exists today as you walk the silent halls of the Compound. It permeates the walls and corridors. Sinking into the void of weeping guilt.

A tomb would be louder.

The far-reaching depths of space would make more sound.

Maybe that’s why it’s so unbelievably jarring when you enter Tony’s lab and are bombarded by the glass-shaking noise of heavy eighties rock music.

Without even asking, FRIDAY drops the volume down to a far lower level than what the lone inhabitant would like. He peers up over the edge of the workbench, his peace disturbed, as his red-rimmed and wild eyes meet your gaze.

“Fuuck offh!” Tony slurs inelegantly, pointing a bottle of alcohol in your direction before he sinks back to the floor from which he had emerged.

As the door swooshes softly behind you, you glance around at the state of affairs.

This was the billionaire’s secondary lab, his fuck around and find out lair. The main building held his most important and expensive instruments. This one was more similar to a forty-year-old man’s garage; the one that got tinkered around in for a few hours every weekend.

Average well-loved namebrand tools lay scattered around, while one particular mallet hammer seemed to have suffered a near-catastrophic blow somewhere around a smashed exhaust pipe.

As you meander through the destruction, you find yourself sidestepping glass shards and bits of shattered metal. The wall, opposite of the billionaire, has clearly suffered the brunt of his anger. There are an array of singe marks and concaved sections where something was obviously repeatedly thrown at it.

You find the bludgeoned torch a few feet away from Tony’s feet.

This hadn’t exactly been your idea of a somber morning. You didn’t want to come here.

But you had received a warning from FRIDAY, who had gone ahead and tried to contact both Pepper and Rhodes. But Pepper was trying to stay ahead of the media frenzy and Rhodes was tied up with far more important matters. Neither of them would be able to reach the Compound until at least early evening. And things were too dire to leave this unattended.

So, as Tony was refusing to see Steve and Natasha had been barred entrance as well, it was up to you to deal with the incredibly inebriated billionaire.

He tilts his head back at a severe angle, nearly slipping past the lip of the workbench - which would immediately send him toppling to the floor - as he blearily blinks at your presence.

“Thought I told you to fuck off.”

The unpleasant reek of bile and whiskey seems to glide from his lips to your nose as you peer down at the man.

“I’m not the best at taking direction from others.”

He gives a surprisingly thoughtful nod as he blindly spreads his hand against the concrete floor in an attempt - you assume - to find another bottle.

With a cursory glance at the far wall, you find a rather inconspicuous cupboard-style toolbox that’s been opened. Inside sits four shelves with varying amounts and brands of alcoholic beverages while the empty slots seem to be scattered around Tony’s feet.

Crossing your arms, you raise a tired brow.

“I’ve seen you in many states, Anthony. I think this one might just take the cake.”

He scoffs, scrambling to his feet. He has to grip the table behind him to keep steady as his legs seem to be made of some kind of gelatinous mixture as they wobble troublingly beneath him.

“Save me the pep talk, Double O. I could really give less of a shit.”

Popping the cap off on the edge of the workbench, he slurps back a violent swig of whiskey. A wet sound audibly pops as he pulls the lip of the bottle from his mouth and a dribble of amber liquid pools in the corner of his lips.

“Charming.”

Tony lounges against the table, resting on his heels as he holds his arms out as if to say it is what it is, a sort of wild look in his eyes. From here, you can see the smudges of grease and ash that coat his cheeks and bare arms. Something worryingly yellow sticks to the distinguished tufts of his unkempt hair.

“That’s me, Mister… Ch-arming.”

As he hiccups and belchs around his own words, you cross the lab and easily snatch the bottle from his hand.

“Okay, that’s enough.”

“Fuck,” he groans, eyelids heavy as he blinks up at you. “You’re acting like Saint Rogers now.”

As you settle the billionaire with a look, he lazily salutes you, a drunken smirk befalling his spit-slick lips.

“God damn, Rogers. Captain Idiot, fucking… running into shit. Can’t stop running into shit. Do you think it’s genetic?” he staggers out in front of you, his body seemingly more like a ragdoll than normal as his arms sway on their own accord.

“I don’t know,” you respond cooly.

Tony huffs a breathy laugh as he sways, tripping over his own feet before colliding into the opposing wall. He slams a hand against it, looking up as if surprised to find himself face-to-face with the concrete.

“Romanoff’s no better. Dragging kids into shit they shouldn’t be shitting with,” he laughs, but it’s a bitter tone. “Then you got Rumlow martyring himself like… like… who’s a good martyr?”

You tilt your head to the right, eyes squinted slightly as you try to ascertain his state, “Agnes of Rome?”

He hums, considering it for all of a second before he blows a particularly wet raspberry, “Naaah. We’re talking like… Guevara or something.”

As your brow raises in deep questioning, Tony staggers past you, collapsing half-bent over one of the metal workbenches.

“Should tell him that,” he spits.

Moving closer, you ask, “Rumlow?”

“Ross! When that fucker - ” he spins around, grinning wide though his eyes are hardly amused, “- comes here tomorrow and tries to tie us up and drag us out into the mob that’ll be waiting at the gates.”

“There’s no one at the gates, Tony.”

He balks, “A fucking miracle then! Cause there will be,” he nods, vigorously. “They’ll be coming and they’re gonna do worse than rip my suit away.”

Stark clutches painfully at the arc reactor as he backs away. Holding it just as preciously as Gollum did with the one ring.

“You’ll see, they’re gonna, they’re gonna drag our little Sokovian mutants out by the hair and string them up and Steve will do something noble and stupid and end up on the news and a fucking sniper will take him out. That’s what’s gonna happen, you got it?”

He trips over an empty bottle and you finally swoop down to catch him.

It takes a bit of adjusting, but you manage to convince him to drape his right arm over your shoulders as you grip him around the waist to hold him up. His head hangs heavily into his sternum as you heft the scientist out of his lab.

“I think you’re wrong, Tony,” you admit as you wait for the elevator to chime its arrival.

He blows out a huff of air as his head falls back against his shoulders, his dark eyes barely able to focus on your face as he lashes back, “You don’t know American politics, do you, oh dear Goddess?”

You did, in fact. You knew them quite well.

But for the sake of keeping him from stumbling out of your arms and knocking his head into a wall, you remain silent.

As you deposit him into an elevated chair in his room, a trash can near his side with a glass of water within reach, he blinks owlishly up at you.

“We’re fucked. You get that right? This… whole thing… it’s screwed whatever chances we had at negotiating.”

He’s oddly sober in his words.

Offering him the hint of a smile, you lean down and smooth a hand over his stubbled cheek, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“Whatever happens, we’re going to figure it out together. Sober, preferably.”

Tony guffaws into a fit of chuckles as you back away. When you’re at the threshold of the door, you remind him that Rhodes will be by later and FRIDAY will be informing you if he tries to nab another bottle.

Tony gives you a half-hearted, “Yes, ma’am,” before you finally take your leave.

Steve hovers in the doorway, staring down at the blank-eyed girl on the bed.

At least her door was still unlocked. No one had been able to get through to Pietro’s yet, even Vision was oddly repulsed whenever he tried to enter the space. According to FRIDAY, the teen was still in his room and remained in decent health, unharmed. For now, that had to be enough.

You had sat outside his door for the better part of the night and well into the morning. Steve had remained beside you for a portion of it, across from you for the rest. 

When you had gotten the urgent call from FRIDAY, Steve had finally forced himself to stand up. Fighting the twinge of pain in his back from hours spent on a hard floor. When he scrounged up a cup of coffee for himself, he returned to the hall and found Pietro’s door still shut tight. Wanda’s, however…

Tear tracks brighten her cheeks as she hastily looks up, catching Steve’s eye, before she wipes her nose with the fabric of her long dark shirt.

“Hey,” he sighs as he forces his feet over the threshold, breaking that imaginary barrier at last.

She hums in return, her eyes wandering over to the TV.

“What authority does an enhanced undocumented immigrant have to operate in the United States, I ask you today, Hannah? That’s what the people of Manhattan want to know. Where do the Avengers get off inviting known criminals into - ”

Steve kills the segment before the political correspondent can finish his tirade.

The girl turns to look at him, eyes tear-rimmed, “It’s my fault, you know.”

“That’s not true,” he immediately rebuffs, moving across the room to sit beside her on the edge of the bed.

She huffs, “Turn the TV back on. They’re being very specific.”

“I should have clocked that bomb vest long before you had to deal with it,” the soldier defends.

Let him take that from her, let him bear the weight of terrible decisions. He can take it. 

Wanda glances away, staring at the blank screen.

“It’s my fault,” he states, taking it back from her once again. “Rumlow said Bucky and… suddenly I was a sixteen-year-old kid again, in Brooklyn. And… people died. It’s on me.”

She shakes her head softly, staring down at her dark-painted nails.

“It’s on all four of us.”

Swallowing the words back down, Steve clears his throat.

“This job… we try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes, that doesn’t mean everyone. That’s part of the reason we’ve kept the two of you from coming along. It’s the reason I should have sent you away yesterday.”

Staring up at him, as if searching his eyes for some hidden message, the teen says, “She’s right. You do do that a lot.”

When he makes a questioning tone in his throat, she looks away.

“Taking the brunt of everyone’s failures. Don’t take mine from me today, Steve.”

With a sigh, he leans forward, balancing a hand on his knee.

“Look… if we can’t find a way to live with ourselves after something like this… maybe next time? No one gets saved. We have to find a way to carry on and right now, your brother needs us probably more than ever.”

With a broken laugh, she wipes at her eyes, “I can try to break down his door if you want?”

The phantom sensation of a smile graces his lips as he shakes his head, “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

Steve later finds you in the communal kitchenette around the corner from Wanda’s room. It’s about the width of an alleyway, with bright floors and dark counters. There’s enough room for a row of cabinets and a fridge on one wall and a small coffee bar and table setup on the other.

You’ve got your hands lodged in your hair as you stare up at the wall-mounted TV. An unsipped cup of tea sits in front of you on the table. Your gaze is unblinking as you watch the continuous news feed.

“Senator William Sharpe was considered a pillar in the Democratic Party, Andrew. Just three days ago, he publicly blasted his fellow senators in an interview with reporters saying: to protect the principals for which America stands, we must allow the Avengers to act unimpeded by the government. To do otherwise, would put us all at a great disservice.”

“At this time, both Mayor Marino and Governor Lennox have asked for the flags to be flown at half-staff while responders are still on the scene, aiding in the recovery of bodies. We’ll be going to our man in the field, Nick Rubio in just a minute to see how the cleanup process is going down on Wall Street. And shortly after, we’ll tune in to the White House as President Ellis is set to address the nation.”

As the segment moves to a commercial break, you finally blink away from the TV and lock eyes with him - as if truly seeing the soldier for the first time.

Wordlessly, Steve pulls out the chair beside you. Taking a seat, he leans forward and gathers your left hand into his combined palms. Tilting his head down, he kisses the smooth skin of your thumb as he desperately tries to blink back a surprising surge of unshed tears.

“Oh,” you sigh, using your free hand to card your fingers through the turbulent locks of his blonde hair. “Don’t start on me again, Steve.”

He snorts, warm breath puffing against your hand as his stormy eyes meet your broken expression.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Just one of those kinds of days.”

“Yeah,” you nod, tilting your head forward - gently knocking your temple into his forehead as you both breathe in the mingling air of discomfort that permeates the space around you. “We’re really racking those up, aren’t we?”

He chuckles low in his throat, shaking his head as your fingers pull free from his scalp.

“It’d be really bad of me to offer a free trip to a God Realm right now, wouldn’t it?” your smile is crooked, but your eyes are deeply somber.

“Any other day,” he sighs, squeezing your captured hand, “I might have taken you up on that offer.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” you snort, ducking your head down.

“Tell me about them?”

Your face slowly peeks up from the hood of your hair, a curious lift to your eyebrows.

“What? The god realms?”

“Anything,” he admits. “So long as it gets you to stop watching that all day.”

As your gaze briefly moves toward the TV, you reach for the remote and gratefully mute the volume.

“Okay, any place in particular?”

Steve can feel the nudge of your foot as you lean back in your seat, facing him as you lounge out - your hand never leaving his.

“Where did you say your pal Thoth lived again?”

A true smile begins to break across your face and Steve can actually feel the unsettled feeling in his chest lift away for the first time in twenty-four hours.

“The Celestial Helipolis,” you enunciate with a slight gnash of your teeth.

As you proceed to describe the alien-like location, Steve finds himself leaning further onto his elbow - keeping your left and right hands intertwined on the table, blinking slowly, and his smile creeping higher. 

It takes two days for Tony to properly sober up. And at the end of those two days, he does something incredibly stupid.

Worst of all, it’s captured on live TV.

With a hand latched over your face, your fingers spread just enough so you can watch the news feed, you stare in horror as the news anchor repeats the footage for a fifth time - with the audio now on for any listeners just tuning in.

“Ma’am, please. We’re going to have to ask you to leave,” says the burly SHIELD agent flanking Tony.

The woman, Miriam Sharpe - the widow of Senator Sharpe and the mother of Adam, one of the children who burned to death in the International School just a few yards away from his father - stares up indignantly.

The cameraman zooms in on the grieving woman’s face as tears spring from her eyes. Leave it to the Bugle to get something so painstakingly personal on file.

“Leave what? My own family’s funeral? Stark’s the one you should be dragging away!”

Tony, ever the foot-in-mouth artist, presses forward, “Ma’am, I understand that you’re upset - that you’re grieving an unbelievable loss. But the Maximoff’s recklessness had nothing to do with me.”

She turns on him, voice chillingly cold as the cameraman moves in even closer to capture the crystal clear audio.

“Oh, yeah? And who finances the Avengers, Mr. Stark? Who’s been telling kids for the past decade that they can live outside the law so long as they wear a fancy suit of armor or colorful tights?”

As you finally turn away from the video - it cuts back to two anchors who continue to play it in the upper right-hand corner of the screen - you find your gaze sitting on the shrunken billionaire at the end of the table.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Natasha demands.

He splutters, “Fuck, I don’t know, Romanoff. I thought comforting a grieving woman and offering her a large sum of sorry we destroyed your family money from the Stark Foundation might help soften the blow of you idiots sweetly and decadently fucking up!”

From across the table, you watch as Steve’s knuckles flex so tightly that the skin becomes worryingly white.

“I don’t know, Stark,” she bites back. “A letter, or a private call - not fucking wandering your still drunk ass to a double funeral.”

“It was quiet,” he sighs, “until the cameras showed up. Like she got her second wind or something.”

“At her husband and child’s funeral, imagine that,” Clint remarks with a shocking sharpness.

Holding his hands up in exasperation, he exclaims, “I fucked up! Alright? That’s what you want to hear? I biffed it, royally. I made an ass of myself and came out looking like a monster.”

“And you successfully ruined whatever positive image we once had,” you add, voice light as your glare seers across the table to meet Tony’s eyes.

“It’s worse than that.”

All eyes turn to see Rhodes as he moves into the room, dressed in his regulation navy service dress clothes. Beside him, co-Director Hill stands.

Tony grumbles something that sounds like fucking wonderful under his breath.

“What do you mean?” Natasha asks, arms crossed as she faces down the two.

“Well, thanks to Wall Street and with a little help from Tony making a general ass of himself in front of a grieving widow and mother - ” Tony rolls his eyes, “ - you’ve got the UN in an emergency special session.”

“What?” Steve calls, turning in his seat.

“Yeah, surprisingly, they take offense when their children are killed and their general consulates are destroyed,” Hill barks, with her arms folded and her stare capable of killing.

“What does that mean exactly?” Clint questions, glancing between them, Steve, Tony, and you.

“That you’ve managed to piss off just about every government official you can think of. Surprised Ross isn’t here to drag you to prison as we speak.”

Tony glances at you, his eyes seeming to say see, what did I tell you?

On the TV, the anchor cuts off a seventh viewing of the funeral scene, with breaking news.

“We go live to the floor of the UN General Assembly where the Sokovian representative, Andrej Bezák has asked for the Secretary-General to convene this eleventh emergency special session.”

“Fuck,” Clint groans, hands balled up on the back of his head as he leans back in his chair.

It’s two hours of sitting, glued to your seats, as you watch the news switch between the debate in the UN and the anchors. At one point, they break away to announce another breaking story.

“Congressman DeRusso has asked the Senate Majority Leader to proceed through with the vote this evening. The Senators will be voting on the passage of the SRA, which has been a hotly contested piece of legislation in the past week. But with the events of New York that have left the nation reeling, one has to wonder how our representatives will come together. Is this the issue that will unite a nation?”

“We’ll be live tonight, on the Senate floor, livestreaming the vote as it takes place. So, make sure to tune in at nine to catch this moment-defining vote.”

As the news switches back to coverage of the UN, Steve begins to shake his head.

The majority of the time had been spent in near-silence. Too stunned, too ashamed to contest the facts and videos that were being thrown back in your faces.

As one analyst comes on, covering up the audio from the special session, you watch as Steve’s fist tightens once again.

“A ban on superheroes? Well, Adam, in a world with an insurmountable number of violent criminals and alien forces yet to be known, that’s obviously impossible. But, properly training them and making them carry badges? Then yeah, I’d say that sounds like a reasonable response.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Rhodes announces.

The colonel had taken watch behind Tony’s chair - his hands tightening on the back of the seat every so often.

Steve glances over at the man, brow raised and voice tight, “If we hand over control to the government, then we’re losing our ability to work as any kind of protective force.”

Rhodes turns on the supersoldier.

“117 countries, Steve. That’s how many representatives you have sitting in the room right now. How often do you get the UN to come together over international security? Yeah, so you know this shit is serious. We’re at that point now; the line’s been crossed. We need someone to keep us in check.”

From beside you, Sam shakes his head - looking up at the colonel.

“I can’t believe I’m seriously hearing this right now. You just want us to roll over and let the government turn us into some kind of supercops?”

“Are you kidding?” Rhodes questions, “We’re lucky people have tolerated this for as long as they have, Sam.”

Steve’s eyes meet yours, a troubling darkness rests in his usually cool irises.

“Man, how long are you going to play both sides?”

Before Rhodes can respond, Vision interrupts from the couch on which he’s been sitting for the entire session.

“I have an equation.”

“Oh, this should clear it up,” Sam mumbles.

Vision blinks at him once before continuing his line of thought.

“In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man the number of known enhanced persons has grown exponentially. And, during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate.”

“Are you saying this is our fault?” Steve questions.

“I’m saying there may be a causality. The team’s very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict… breeds catastrophe. Oversight. Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”

You glance back at the supersoldier. He looks away.

Natasha clears her throat, “Tony… you’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“Boy, you know me so well,” he grunts, shifting up from his seat. “Fact is… we need to do it - sign on to the Act. We need to regain control before there’s a witch hunt at our door and we’re dragged through the streets - tearing your bow from your hands, Barton, and Cap's shield, and my suit from my body.”

Shaking his head, he leans back against the kitchen island, “I’ve been there before. It ain’t happening again.”

Maria nods from the head of the table, “There’s really no decision-making process right now. If you sign on, you remain in control of yourselves. If you don’t… the consequences will be unthinkable. Especially, if the UN adds on and makes their own resolution. You have enough to worry about if the SRA goes into effect.”

Tony nods, pointing at Hill, “Yeah, basically if we don’t accept limitations, if we remain boundary-less, we’re no better than the bad guys.”

The man across from you raps his knuckles on the table two times before he finally speaks up.

“Tony, if someone dies on your watch you don’t give up.”

“Who said we’re giving up?”

“We are if we’re not taking responsibility for our actions. The SRA is just going to shift the blame.”

Rhodes looks wide-eyed as he stares down at the supersoldier.

“I’m sorry, Steve. But that is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we’re talking about. It’s not the World Security Council, it’s not SHIELD, it’s not HYDRA - ”

“No,” he cuts off the colonel, voice rising. “But it’s run by people with agendas, and agendas change.”

“That’s good,” Tony announces as he rounds on the table. “That’s why I’m here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stopped manufacturing.”

You can see the physical tension building up on Steve’s brow as he rubs his hand across his temple. He’s trying to keep his anger in check, but it’s growing. Soon, it will bubble over. You try to meet his eyes, but his attention is entirely fixed on the billionaire now.

“Tony, you chose to do that. If we agree to this, we surrender our right to choose. Wanda can’t just hang up her powers like you can your suit. We’re stuck the way we are. I can’t surrender the serum any more than you can the reactor. And as long as I have it, I’m going to use it for what I was meant to do.”

Clint sniffs from the end of the table, pulling the attention away from the two men.

“I mean, just spitballing here, but… what if these guys try to send us somewhere we shouldn’t go? Or, other hand, what if there’s somewhere we should go and suddenly they don’t let us?”

“Terms can always be negotiated,” Maria attempts to amend.

Steve sits upright in his seat, voice steady as he says, “We may not be perfect, but I still believe that the safest hands are our own.”

Tony sighs, severity in his tone “If we don’t do this now, it’s going to be done to us later. That’s a fact. It won’t be pretty.”

“You’re saying they’ll come for me.”

Whipping around in your seat, your eyes land on Wanda. How long she had been standing in the doorway, you’re unsure. But your heart aches as she glides into the room, rigid in her posture - as if already trying to shield herself from the team.

“We would protect you,” Vision answers, floating through the couch before landing in front of her.

“They have a point.”

As your gaze shifts from the teen, your eyes move toward Natasha. The Widow looks apprehensive as she shakes her head - refusing to meet Clint’s questioning stare.

“If we have one hand on the wheel, we can still steer. If we take it off - ”

“Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?” Sam questions, voice incredulous.

“I’m just… reading the terrain,” her gaze fixes on yours for a moment before shifting over to Steve. “We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back.”

“Focus up,” Tony interrupts, leaning his hands on the table as he stares down at the redhead. “I’m sorry, did I just go temporarily deaf or did you actually agree with me?”

“Oh, I want to take it back now.”

“No, no you can’t retract it.”

Too lost in the conversation now taking place at the end of the table, you miss the moment when it all bubbles to the surface. Steve’s chair screeches against the floor as he stands up.

“You’re really considering this?” he questions, looking between Tony and Natasha.

“Considerng? No, Cap. You’re mishearing me. The consideration period is gone. This is happening.”

“Tony - ”

“Steve,” Hill sighs, pushing up from her own chair. “It’s going to pass through. The question now is, what side are you going to be standing on when it does?”

The bristles of his anger surge down his tense shoulders into the quiver of his fists. He meets your eye before landing on anyone else in the room.

You find yourself tilting your head slightly as you stare up at the supersoldier. Surely, he understood the cards that were being stacked against the team. Surely, he must know the best path forward if anyone here wished to operate in any official capacity ever again as designated superheroes. Surely…

Steve huffs a breathless sound before he stalks out of the room.

Surprisingly, it’s you that everyone seems to turn toward in the silent aftermath.

“You, uh, going after your pal there or…?” Clint questions, pointing a finger between yourself and the doorway through which Steve had just left.

Rooted to the spot, the news playing in the corner - they had just uncovered five more bodies from one of the restrooms at the school, Wanda sitting silently on the couch beside Vision, Natasha’s gaze flitting between Rhodes and Hill and -

You shake your head, gaze also locking on Tony.

Sam snorts, “Unbelievable,” before he too is up and out of his chair, striding out of the room after the supersoldier.

Feeling the daze of indecision wiping itself clean from your mind, you shakily stand up, pushing away from the table, as you turn toward the hall leading down to your room.

“So, we just calling it quits now, or…?” Tony calls out from behind you.

But you just ignore his questioning tone as you head for the stairs. Maybe now was the time to snap Pietro out of his solemn mood.

“I thought I told you to dress the part.”

Steve cranes his head back slightly as the woman in question brushes up against him. Shaking his head, his sunglasses dipped down on the slope of his nose as he browses the opposite shelf, he retorts:

“This is how I dress.”

“Exactly,” Sharon sighs, moving a few feet down the carpeted aisle.

The meet-up had been his request. The location was entirely her idea. Some off-the-beaten-path bookshop in Washington Heights, where the shelves were overstuffed and haphazardous piles of literature reached up to the ceiling. The floor was a strange lime green, the fabric slightly sticky against the soles of his shoes whenever he walked.

He’s in the self-help section; a little too on the nose for even him to even pretend to look at right now.

“You worked with spies for how many years and still you can’t get a decent incognito look down to save your life. Pathetic, Rogers.”

“Hey,” he growls, spinning on his toe to capture her arms in his hands.

Her brow lifts in return as she shrugs out of his hold. Moving to stand next to him, glancing down at the shelf with healthy living titles, Sharon lets the silence permeate just a few moments too long.

Steve shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, not-so-casually glancing around at the rest of the shop.

They’re relatively hidden back here in the corner. His hearing tells him that the young cashier up front is on her phone, volume high enough for him to make out the make-up routine video she’s currently watching. No, back here they’re not going to be disturbed and he didn’t spy any cameras on the way down this aisle, so why the hell is Carter still acting the part?

“You make a move on your girl yet?”

He splutters.

It shouldn’t… he shouldn’t…

Okay, admittedly, he’s a little broken about this morning. You had just sat there during the entire thing, not saying a single word. His mind had been fucking reeling at the time and there you were just… blank, disengaged. And when he had heard someone heading down the hall, he had been expecting it to be you - about to tell him how you told Hill and Tony off in his stead.

But it was Sam currently scoping out the bookshop from across the street. Not you.

Steve clears his throat, “How’s the new job?”

He can almost hear the audible raise of her brow, but she hides it with a chuckle, “Work is fine. But I’m guessing that’s not why you wanted to talk to me.”

Rising to her feet, she draws him in with a crook of her finger.

“I don’t think you understand the extent of what you’re dealing with here, Rogers.”

Tilting his head to the side, he follows her further down the aisle until they’re jutted up in the corner of the poetry and biography section.

“I’ve got ears, you know. Feelers, if you will,” she begins, causally opening a book from the pile next to her left hip. Flipping unseeingly through the pages, Sharon continues, “The SRA isn’t just going to enact some kind of oversight committee for you guys and call it a day. It’s kind of in the name, yeah? They want to register you all to a database - anyone claiming the title superhero - ” she exaggerates this point by moving her fingers in pseudo quotation marks.

“Yeah, I got that much already,” he nods.

“Well,” she breathes out, tossing the book down onto the pile.

Steve straightens it out neatly, the way it had been resting before they ever walked into the shop.

Sharon blinks.

“Well, after that point you would be assigned to work alongside the general government entities, like SHIELD. I mean, you got Hill in a temporary position of power but they’re looking to place someone into the proverbial Director’s seat.”

“And she’s not it?” he questions, glancing down at her warm eyes.

With a teasing smile, she shakes her head, “Not likable enough, apparently.”

Steve lets out a short chuckle. Yeah, he could definitely understand that.

“So… please tell me you’ve at least read through it. I know Ross was up your way a week ago or so.”

The supersoldier shrugs, “Most of it.”

She huffs a questioning tone, “Skimmed it then?”

“Basically.”

“I bet Stark read the whole thing.”

He nods, knowing it was very likely.

“Well, if you had bothered you might have come across a few interesting clauses, such as…” she tugs on the fabric of his shirt, moving him even impossibly closer toward her, “That little itty bitty clause about mandatory tracking devices. Or, if you happen to be a star-spangled man with a distrust of authority and choose to not follow their lovely guidelines, you could find yourself being arrested and imprisoned without the chance of a trial.”

Pulling back, he searches her gaze.

“That can’t be…”

“Legal? Oh, Rogers. I assure you, it very much is. And when that emergency motion passes in the UN, and it will pass, the US isn’t going to be the only country with such laws. Pretty much every country on earth has mutual extradition laws in place. If they find you, you’re gonna get hauled back here.”

Taking a step back, Steve begins to pace between the two shelves - not much room to do so, admittedly - but he has to move.

“Hill and Ross were going on about this plan and negotiating terms, but that was never their M.O. was it?”

“Fuck no it wasn’t,” she beams, leaning back against one of the bookshelves, her eyes following his frantic steps. “I’m not sure if you girl told you - ”

Steve pauses midstep, looking back at her.

“ - but Banner was never really enough for Ross. Not after Iron Man came on the scene and dazzled the citizens. That man would love to lock up every enhanced individual he could get his hands on. Think Nixon and the war on drugs campaign. Whoever he can get. Anywhere.”

The air in the bookshop becomes impossibly restrictive in the span of a second as Steve gapes, mind zooming in to one singular thought.

Bucky.

Running a hand down his face, the supersoldier’s shoulder sag as he leans his weight against the shelf opposite Sharon. She tilts her head to the side, trying to piece apart his inner turmoil for herself before he offers up his actual train of thought to her.

At least at the Compound, the team would be safe if they stuck together. But Bucky was out there, somewhere, on his own.

“Ever since D.C., I’ve been trying to track him down, you know. Two years, not a trace. At least when this goes through, I can just worry about everyone here. If I haven’t found him with all of Tony’s tech, then Ross sure as hell hasn’t either.”

At least that was a thought that could ease his current troubles. He would need to find an escape plan for Wanda and Pietro, maybe with your help. Because there was no way he was going to let someone like Ross get to the twins. They were foreigners with never-before-seen powers and they were underage. They were the perfect people for the Secretary to zoom in on.

“Steve.”

He glances up, catching the absolutely devastating look in her eyes as she pushes off from the bookshelf to move across to him.

“I’m so sorry.”

Scrutinizing her gaze, he questions, “What is it?”

“They… they found Barnes. Two months ago.”

There’s a tightening sensation around his chest that has Steve pulling away from Sharon, stumbling into the main alley of the store. His vision glazes over for just a second before a hand is clenching over his wrist - tugging him back to their hidden corner of the shop.

“Hey, snap out of it. I get it,” she sighs, squeezing both of his shoulders in her hands - trying to get him to come back to Earth. And god does it take a second, but that wide-eyed look in his eyes finally settles on her face. “You’ve been unsuccessful and they haven’t.”

“So… they know where he is. What now?”

Taking a step backward, her hands falling back to her side, she replies, “They are literally just waiting for the SRA to pass so they can detain him legally.”

“Jesus,” he snaps, volume too loud - he knows it - but he can’t stop it. It’s all too fucking much.

She tries to shush him, finger to her lips and everything, but he just runs his hand through his hair - tugging on the blonde strands to the point of pain.

“Why the hell are you even bothering to tell me any of this anyway? Huh?” he questions, pacing once again.

God, he couldn’t trust Hill or Rhodey or even Tony. God only knows who else was on board with this legislation.

“Well, Steve,” Sharon stretches the letters in his name out as she crosses her arms before leaning against one of the shelves. “Frankly I find Ross to be an asshole and after the shit that went down with SHIELD and Insight, I’m sort of over the idea of the government jumping in to pick off random people as they please.”

He can almost feel that choking sensation ease as he fixes her with a somber expression, “Sorry.”

She waves her hand in dismissal.

“I’m telling you this because I know you’ll do something about it,” she admits. “I don’t exactly know what their plan is for him, I’m just sort of assuming the worst-case scenarios right now. And… I think we can agree that the guy has been through enough.”

With a small nod, Steve stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans and asks, “Do you know where he - ”

“Rogers,” she sighs. “I wish I knew where he was. Hell, even if I did it would put me at risk for losing my job, and not to mention it would be considered a breach of national security…”

He understands, of course. It would be impossible for her to know that sort of intel when it was clearly being kept heavily under wraps. Lord even knows where she managed to learn any of this from.

A stroke of soft chuckles brings him back to her strange expression as she plucks a book out from the biography section. It’s a recent edition, with barely a scratch on the binding. Holding up the cover for him to see, Steve rolls his eyes.

Peggy Carter: In Her Own Words

“You know… even for all the shit she might have done back then, I sometimes still miss her.”

Steve glances away as Sharon begins to flip through the pages of the book.

“She was still family, even after everything,” he says softly.

Humming in return, the sound of moving pages halts.

“You know…” she laughs, shaking her head as her finger skims over the paragraphs of text, “She had a knack for imparted bits of wisdom every now and then. God, she wasn’t even American, but yet…”

“This nation was founded on one principle above all else,” Sharon glances up at him, a playful look in her eyes as she reads the quote, “the requirement that we stand up for what we believe in, no matter the odds or the consequences.”

Steve can almost picture the woman, hair tied back, straight-smart outfit, speaking in front of a group of reporters and journalists. Her accent scathing and beautiful as she commands their attention.

“When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world: No, you move! Director Carter, Congress, 1978. God, I don’t even know what this could have been about. It’s not like Reagan was elected yet.”

With a shrug, Sharon snaps the book closed and tosses it at Steve. He scrambles to catch it, giving her a strange look as she nods at him.

“Go on, buy it. It’s only a buck fifty, that’s practically a bargain these days.”

Steve stares down at the black-and-white image of Peggy, leaning against a desk, looking content in her position as Director. He sets it down on one of the stacks next to the biography section.

Sharon immediately snatches it back up, pushing it in his direction as she bites, “Take the book.”

Something about her shift in tone makes Steve take hold of the item, flipping it casually in his hand as if trying to decode a secret message.

Giving him a nod, as if pleased by his choice, Sharon takes off her jacket - turning it inside out, before bending down to roll down a skirt that was apparently rucked up around her waist - it goes all the way down to the floor. This is followed by her pulling a wig from her jacket, a curly brown thing, that she easily situates on her head.

“It was nice seeing you again,” she smiles a look that barely curls up at the corners of her lips.

“You too,” he says, a little too stunned by her entire wardrobe change to really comprehend that this is goodbye.

Giving the supersoldier a nod, she places a pair of sunglasses on her face 

“And, hey… good luck.”

“Thanks.”

With a final look, the CIA operative turns and sneaks through the Employees Only door.

Glancing down at the book in his hand, Steve carefully flips through the pages - stopping only when a scrap of paper tumbles away from the seam. It only takes one look, but by then he’s already got it shoved back into place - wedged against the inner seam.

“Find everything okay?” the young woman asks when he makes it to the register.

Feeling more on edge than before, he hums in reply, glancing out at the passersby on the street.

Catching on to the fact that he wasn’t in much of a talking mood at the moment, she easily checks him out and offers to bag up the item for him, but he says it’s fine and snags the book and receipt before she can even say “Come again,” to him.

Striding across the street, barely even looking to see if there’s any incoming traffic, Sam launches up from the patio chair he had been occupying for the past thirty minutes.

“What’d she say?”

His grip on the book tightens as he glances around at the sidewalk. There’s a woman walking her dog down the way, but they’re otherwise alone and out of earshot of anyone nearby.

“Worse than we thought.”

Sam nods, using his index finger to push his sunglasses up higher on his face, “So, what does that mean for us exactly?”

“They’re going after enhanced individuals and anyone out there like us,” he murmurs. Holding up the book, he begins to flip through the pages, “They found him, Sam.”

Even from behind the dark lenses, he knows that the other man’s eyes are wide. They had been searching for two years now, Sam more often than even Steve because he was always being pulled to help out on official missions.

“You’re kidding me.”

Shaking his head, his fingers continue turning each page over at a time, “I wish I was. Ross is going after him.”

“Course he is,” Sam balks, crossing his arms. “And I bet we got nothing from Ms. Carter over there.”

Pulling the scrap of paper free, he twists it between his index and middle fingers for Sam to see.

“No… we got it.”

A smile cracks his features as he looks around at their surroundings, “Man, I shouldn’t be impressed, but I am.”

Steve gives a nod in return as he folds the paper and quickly stuffs it into his pocket - right next to the cool weight of the compass.

“So…” Sam breathes out, “How easily are we gonna be able to operate under the radar with this one?”

Letting out an uneasy breath, Steve thinks about the team - back at the Compound, likely debating their next move in the signing process. His mind flashes to the image of you, but he quickly pushes it away before it can linger too long.

“I think… this is going to be the last mission for us before they sign things over. And, if we’re going to do this, we’re going to need another hand if we want this to work out.”

The other man nods, mood somber as he takes in the unspoken consequences. The SRA was set to pass the Senate tonight, the House within the week. God only knows how long it would take for the UN to reach a concise conclusion. No, they had to get to Bucky first.

As they head down the street, his mind drifts back to his previous line of thought.

If he and Sam went to deal with this and things turned south - either on their end or over here, in the States - then at least he knows you would be able to handle it. If Ross, or anyone else, tried to come after the teens in their care, you would protect them.

“We’re sure, right?” Sam questions as they come to a stop at the crosswalk.

Sparring him a look, Steve lifts his brow.

“I mean… the dude kind of tried to kill us before and all,” at the supersoldier’s annoyed grimace, Sam laughs. “I’m… I’m just saying, man. The people who usually shoot at you, are also trying to shoot at me.”

“You don’t have to do this,” he states as the light switches.

“Nah, you see, that’s the problem. I do. Cause god only knows what kind of nonsense you would wind up in if I wasn’t there to watch your six.”

Feeling a smile stretching across his face, Steve smacks the other man’s shoulder with the palm of his hand.

“You’re a good man, Sam.”

“I gotta be,” he grins, “If I wanna keep up with you.”

The two of them disappear into the crowd of people exiting the subway before the CCTV cameras across the street can get a good look at either one of them.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

[wndaswife]

young fidelity

「 wanda maximoff x gn!reader 」

tags: smut, angst, fluff, mentions of trauma, depictions of violence, blowjobs, degradation, some slightly boring avenger mission details, sub!wanda maximoff, dom!reader. MINORS DNI.

word count: 10 872

summary: Even months after Ultron's death, you haven't forgiven Wanda despite her attempts to become close with you. You plan to get by with little interaction when you are partnered together for a mission, but she has other intentions.

“We’ve received signals of active HYDRA technology in northern and eastern Nunavut. There are approximately two bases north and two in the east,” Steve announced to the conference room. “But because of the nature of the province, it’ll be much easier to split up into pairs — take down each base together, separately.”

“Nature of the province?” asked Sam.

Steve pulled up an image of Nunavut’s map onto the projector. About a third of the province in the northeast was dispersed up into dozens of distinct sections of land.

“North can mean this,” he said and circled about twenty different patches of land before doing the same for the right-hand side of the province, “and East can mean this.”

He continued, “It would consume too much of our time to travel between each patch of land to the other. Fortunately, what we can tell for certain is that these bases are small. The signals they’re sending out are from HYDRA technology nonetheless, but the signals are weak and the technology is outdated.”

“A base of about ten or less,” Natasha noted, leaning back in her seat with her arms crossed and facing the projector screen.

Rhodes added, “Or much less.”

“Exactly,” Steve conceded. “We’ll head out in two days, give ourselves enough time to pack for the climate. Here are the pairs I’ve outlined…” He continued to announce the mission’s partnerships, but the back of your neck prickled with the feeling of being watched. 

You looked over your shoulder to see Wanda’s eyes on you. She looked away quickly when your eyes met and she shifted in her seat, crossing a leg over the other and looking up to pay attention to Steve.

“Then lastly, Wanda and Y/N.”

At Steve's words, Wanda’s head lifted slightly in piqued interest and you looked back at him.

“Why do we have to pair up at all?” you questioned immediately. “Each of us could easily take ten or more on our own.”

“I know that’s right,” Rhodes agreed cockily before exchanging a nod with Tony, who considered your commentary comedic.

“These areas of Nunavut, of Canada, are unexplored territory,” Steve answered. “The weather conditions are extreme up there, and the terrain may not be safe or predictable enough for us to go out in it individually. This will be a quick mission, three days and no more, during which a portion of it will be trying to map out the province. The actual overtaking of the bases will take much less time.”

You weren’t able to find a way to object to that, so you sank down in your seat, something bitter brewing in you at the thought of having to work alone with Wanda.

“We’ll be picked back up the same way we’ll arrive — by the Quinjet in an isolated area at the edge of Nunavut where the land is much less dispersed, closer to the centre of the province but not nearly as populated,” Steve said, and with that, he concluded the meeting.

When Wanda stood from her seat, she spent a few extra moments tucking her hair behind her ear, adjusting her rings, and playing with her sleeves as an excuse to wait for you to walk ahead first so she could approach you. 

But Vision met with her first and she looked over at you hesitantly, worried that she’d miss you leaving the room.

You began heading forward but instead of leaving, you started a conversation with Steve.

Now sure that she could spend a few moments talking with Vision without losing sight of you, she entertained his commentary on the upcoming mission despite not being included in the list of Avengers that were going.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” you told him, leaning back on your heels nonchalantly as you attempted at repressing what felt like a raging wildfire set ablaze in your chest.

Steve turned off the projector and started storing away some of the wires. “Two days isn’t enough to prepare, is it?” he questioned suddenly.

“No, two days is fine, I think,” you said.

You continued with a quiet tone, aware of Wanda and Vision conversing only a few feet away, “Wanda isn’t trained to go out with only one other person yet. She’s not ready for this.”

“She’s been doing just fine during training and other missions,” he reasoned.

“But she’s always supervised, and always with people who can support her if she screws up.”

With a smile of slight inexplicable amusement, he replied, “Then you can train her.”

Your fingers twitched at the mere suggestion.

Then, a voice chimed in from behind — Wanda’s. “No, I can fight. I’ve been training for months,” she insisted.

From the corner of your eye, you could see that she’d stepped away from Vision and was now standing by the edge of the table, only two or three feet away from you. 

Wordlessly, you left the room, overcome by her very proximity. 

Wanda followed after you, initially silent. She spun her rings around her fingers, watching the back of your head as she trailed behind you. 

“So… when are we going to start training?” she eventually asked. 

You walked through the hallways, heading straight to your room and avoiding having lunch until you were sure Wanda was no longer following you like an aimless puppy.

“I thought you said you didn’t need training.”

Suddenly filled with joy because you had actually answered her instead of ignoring her like you often did, Wanda sped up and joined your side.

“No, I never said I didn’t need training,” she corrected. “I just said that I could fight. But I would like to train with you. Before our mission. I think it would help. When can we start?”

“Not now,” you replied.

“Then when?”

You reiterated stubbornly, “Whenever I feel like it.”

Wanda bristled and she said wrapped her hand around your forearm. You tore it out of her hold and she looked at you, shocked at your resistance to be touched by her. 

She swallowed and straightened in spite of herself then said, “I’m just trying to do my job”

“It’s not your job to bother me.”

“I’m not trying to bother you, I’m just trying-"

“To do your job,” you interrupted. “Right.”

She stared at you silently, unsure what to say yet not wanting to walk away from you. 

“Is that how you rationalise things?” you inquired, your eyebrows furrowing together. “Is that how you rationalised what you did?”

Now feeling desperate for your validation and worn from the way you’d been avoiding her since the battle on Novi Grad, Wanda opposed, “I know that you’re angry, but everyone has forgiven me for what I have done. You are the only one who hasn’t.”

“You want to train?” you asked out of the blue. 

It took a moment for Wanda to realise what you were asking and to decipher if you were being sincere in your question. When she supposed you were, she nodded cautiously.

“Then let’s go,” you muttered and turned to walk the other way, down to where the gymnasium and training room were.

When both of you changed into the proper clothes for training, you met Wanda in the middle of the holopad. You programmed a few rounds of holographic HYDRA members to attack her, and a few other adversaries the Avengers had previously fought to fill the time.

Wanda strapped on her sensory gloves, designed by Tony to signal to the holopad where she directed her powers and with what magic she used for the holograms. It had been helping her with her training to a great extent as it allowed her to use the technology in the training room as every other non-magic-wielder did.

She stepped onto the ten-by-seven metered platform and you set the tablet down by the staircase.

You noticed her looking over at you before the holopad flashed white once, signalling the beginning of the training session, and Wanda then looked away from you.

It began slowly at first, several scientists running at her from different directions and Wanda’s red magic flowing out of the centres of her palms and darting out from the tips of her fingers. Her magic made contact with the holographic foes, Wanda’s sensory gloves connecting the direction and intensity of her magic to the location of each moving hologram. They scattered into tiny pixelated squares when her magic came into contact with them, floating up and dividing into smaller geometric shapes before disappearing entirely. 

The speed of the enemies quickened and with it Wanda’s reflexes. 

This was the first time since the final battle against Ultron on Novi Grad that you’d seen Wanda’s fighting. Several months have passed since then, and she improved substantially. You’d never say it aloud, and you looked away from the brunette to avoid even admitting it to yourself, but she would be the perfect partner for the mission to Nunavut.

Eventually, the holopad flashed white, indicating the end of the training session when Wanda defeated the enemies you programmed her to fight.

She stepped off of the platform and stood in front of you, a glistening sheen of sweat on her body. She was panting softly and you blinked inquisitively for a moment at the grin on her face. “Come on,” she said and took your hand before pulling you up onto the holopad with her.

Wanda positioned you on one side of the platform and she stepped back from you. “So, what will you show me?” she asked.

“I don’t know how to train someone with magic.”

“We can go hand-to-hand,” Wanda suggested, running her palms down her sides. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

When you did nothing but stare at her, perhaps out of scepticism or curiosity at her mood switch, she added with a laugh, “What? Are you scared?”

There was not a single person in the compound but you who knew this side of Wanda; a playful side of her, one that was presently unburdened by the weights of her losses and the solemn monotony that cast over her like a stagnant shadow when she was with anyone other than you.

There was a feeling of laxness that settled within her in your company, a freedom she felt with you that she hadn’t been familiar with since her time with Pietro.

You chose to think little of this lest you fall victim to Wanda’s deceptions as you had when you first met her. The very recollection of that moment of weakness awakened chills up your spine and formed a terribly large pit in the centre of your chest.

“Okay,” you said. “Fine. A quick skirmish, that’s all.”

If she was lucky, she’d sometimes walk in on you training and watch you for as long as possible while being as inconspicuous as she could manage. She’d watch the way you fought and moved your body, the confidence in your strikes and flexibility of your limbs. You were nothing less than inspiring. 

In many ways, Wanda idolised you.

The corners of Wanda’s mouth tugged upwards before she made an attempt to repress her giddiness to have a serious one-on-one with you. She raised her fists and bent her knees, eyes darting down your form to correct her posture accordingly. She took notes from you where she could.

In training skirmishes, the objective was to take the other down, get them off their feet and cause them to lose balance. 

You watched Wanda’s footing, the way she rounded and approached you by subtly cutting away at the inches of space that lay between the two of you.

Despite the sternness of her brow, there was a vague outline of a smile on her lips.

Your attention on her incomprehensible smile sullied your focus on the skirmish; Wanda extended her leg and in one swift movement, rounded your body so she stood outside your line of sight. Her knee lifted to nudge your thigh forward and throw you off balance but you turned quickly, a hand wrapping around her hip. 

Before you could push her back and move your legs out of her range of contact, Wanda’s foot raised and she knocked the back of your knees forward with the length of her shin. You tumbled backwards, and with your hand gripping Wanda’s hip, you pulled her down with you. 

Her arm extended past the side of your head, a wispy lock of red magic coursing out of her palm. The burst of magic slowed the speed at which you fell, breaking your fall and letting your back meet the ground softly.

It was only when the brief panic of falling backwards abated that you heard Wanda laughing. Stands of dark hair were falling in her face, her expression light and free of the burdens that normally followed her around like a shadow.

When her laughing settled into a fit of giggles, she opened her eyes and looked down at you, her gaze flickering between your eyes and your parted lips. She pushed her hair back and she lifted herself up with the heel of your hand placed on the platform by the side of your head. 

Her chest parted from yours but her hips stayed pressed against your own, your legs intertwined and her other hand resting on your stomach. 

You removed your hand from her hip and let it fall to the floor underneath you, damning yourself for the way you watched every movement of her soft lips.

“Come on, you’re not even trying,” Wanda teased. She used her hand by your head and the other on your stomach to prop herself up, slipping off of your body and getting on her knees by your hip. She then proposed, “Let’s go again.”

“I promise I’ll go easy on you this time,” she jested and extended a hand to you.

You sat up on your own, Wanda’s hand dropping into her lap. “I said we’d only do one,” you reminded her and stood up. “We’re done.”

Following you, Wanda got onto her feet. “You’re such a sore loser,” she joked with a laugh and trailed behind you as you stepped off the holopad. She unstrapped her gloves from around her hands and set them by the tablet. 

“What will we do next?” she asked.

“Nothing,” you told her, picking up your things and heading to the gym exit.

Wanda’s smile fell as she heard your stern tone. “But we’ve only just gotten here. There’s still so much I want you to show me before we leave,” she reasoned, speeding up and trying to get your attention as you walked ahead without regard for her trailing behind you.

You told her with finality, “Get someone else to show you.”

You exited the gym and Wanda decided to stop following after you. She watched you speed away, hands by her side as she stood alone in the training room. 

Dejectedly, she wondered if she had done or said something wrong — something to drive you away. It seemed she couldn’t do anything right around you when it was you she desired companionship and intimacy from the most.

You exchanged not even a word with Wanda for the remainder of the day, though dinner was filled with yearning stares from her across the table and never any words, partially because Vision filled her time with endless conversation. He was fond of her, and you often wished she would’ve glommed onto him instead.

The following day, you saw Wanda for a short time during a meeting in which Tony outlined the rest of the mission.

Deliberation between Tony, Agent Ross, and the provincial officials of Nunavut resulted in the Avengers’ permission to enter and explore their grounds granted they limit any destruction of the land and would provide the required funding necessary to repair any damage otherwise caused.

After the events on Sokovia, it was also decided that it would be best if the mission went as smoothly and as covertly as possible. This meant that the Quinjet would only take them as far as the edge of the northeast to lessen chances of being seen in the air, and would be stationed in an isolated space until everyone returned from their respective missions.

Additionally, government action would be taken to set a seven-mile radius around the Quinjet prohibiting any public access and ensuring the mission stay entirely under wraps.

Comms would stay open during each individual operation and after three days or less, they’d all meet back up at the Quinjet to depart as simply as it had arrived.

Everyone was working on their preparations for the rest of the day — going over Nunavut’s map and geology, Tony refining communication technology to guarantee they work throughout the mission despite the distance that would be between the team throughout it. 

The evening before the morning of departure, you were preparing for bed when a quiet knock came at your door.

Wanda was at the door holding a saran-wrapped dish of some type of pastry in both hands. “Hi,” she greeted with a tiny smile when you opened the door. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, I’m just getting ready for bed,” you answered.

“I made blinis,” Wanda said, holding up the plate of what looked like a small stack of thin pancakes.

You stared at the dish for a moment then questioned, “At eleven in the evening?”

“Ever since moving here I’ve developed a bit of a habit of cooking when I’m nervous,” she explained, fingers tapping against the rim of the plate. 

Then she continued, “You can save these in the fridge if you aren’t hungry.” It was a kind gesture, though you were convinced she hadn’t made them with you in mind.

You hadn’t spoken with Wanda since her training session. You wondered how she was doing with her practice and wanted to ask what was making her anxious. But you withheld your questions, having learned from experience the faults of coming to Wanda’s aid.

“Thank you,” you uttered and took the plate from her. Wanda seemed grateful that you accepted her dish and smiled at you when she transferred the plate to your hands.

An awkward silent moment passed between both of you. Wanda inhaled, her shoulders raising as she readied herself before asking, “How are you feeling? Are you nervous?”

“No,” you answered. “I’m sure it’ll be like any other mission.”

There was a strange look of despondency that struck momentarily across Wanda’s face at your response. She smiled at you then nodded. 

“You have always been so strong,” she said, her gaze softening as she ventured through your eyes with her own. “I knew it from the moment we met. You’re different from them. Strong-willed. That’s why it was harder for me to-”

She cut herself off, her mouth closing to ensure she doesn’t slip up and let the next few words out: ‘That’s why it was harder for me to take over your mind.’

You looked at the floor between the both of you and took in a breath, then nodded. “Thank you for these,” you told her, lifting the plate of blinis up.

“O-Of course,” she replied and tugged at the hem of one of her sleeves. “Then, goodnight.”

Wanda headed back to her room in deep remorseful thought, tugging at her necklace and going over her conversation with you. She hadn’t meant to bring up bad memories, let alone the one that caused the divide between you and her, one that could not be crossed or mended no matter how hard Wanda tried. 

She had only intended to compliment you, to offer to you in her hands what she stored so close to her heart — an affection and admiration for you.

But she failed to reconcile things with you. 

Again.

That night you dreamt about your time with Wanda, before the fight between Ultron, the twins, and the Avengers.

You met Wanda before the rest of the team had even heard of the twins, a few weeks before their retrieval of Loki’s sceptre. 

It was a strange series of events. 

As was typical before the sceptre’s retrieval, you monitored any signal of its usage, any similar waves of power or sighting reports. After detecting a faint ring of energy in a mountainous plain of isolated land in Sokovia, you chose to go out on your own. What you saw on the monitors was a completely empty plot of land, but upon arrival you discovered a heavily-guarded compound stationed at the foot of a mountain and reaching an astounding height, and a young girl sitting by the edge of it, near the still water and under the waxing moon.

You never told any of the team about her nor her twin brother whom you never saw before the Avengers travelled to the HYDRA research base to retrieve the sceptre.

Wanda knew little of Loki’s sceptre, only that it was kept in a heavily protected sector of the compound. Despite the time you spent together, which eventually ended up being every night after the base’s scientists retired for the night and you were on your own in the lab, you couldn’t avoid telling your team about the sceptre’s location.

Retrieving it was part of something larger than your budding friendship with Wanda, though you still refrained from telling them anything about her and Pietro and their enhanced capabilities.

When the Avengers breached the HYDRA research base, you held no ill will to Wanda. The both of you were simply on opposite sides of a conflict that was long-running and complicated. You continued seeing each other though things became largely difficult once Ultron found the twins.

Though for a moment before the Maximoffs teamed with the android mastermind and they were unsupervised and not experimented on for the first time in several years, everything was blissful with Wanda despite everything else that had been going on between Ultron and the discourse within the team.

You saw her for hours at a time instead of a few fleeting minutes. You could travel anywhere with her rather than having to stick to the research base for the entirety of your time with her. You talked about anything that came to mind, sitting by a remote riverbank or under an evening sky discussing everything from Wanda’s childhood to your time with the team. 

You cared for her and Pietro where you could, organising for them to stay in an unoccupied safehouse the team owned and keeping their activity there off the monitors.

When you returned to visit her one morning, their place was cleaned out and you found no trace of either twin. It was only until the Avengers made contact with Ultron that you realised where they had gone, who they had aligned themselves with and on what side of the battle they chose to fight for. 

The team took a hard hit, each one of them falling victim to Wanda’s mind tricks, yourself included. She knew what specific memories to conjure, what fears to incite, what nerves to press on. She knew it because you’d told her all of it. She asked you for the best way to take the Avengers down and you told her — willingly.

You could never forgive her nor yourself for becoming the weak and unsuspecting piece in her game.

None of your teammates blamed you for what happened and made an effort to convince you that you had no hand in the Avengers’ collective loss. But you blamed yourself in spite of that. It was your fault.

You skipped breakfast with the team in the morning, your dream weighing heavily on you and the recollection of your blunder from months ago eating at you again as you recalled you’d have to spend the next three days with Wanda. Your mistake did not bring you as much guilt as it had months ago, but rather it made you angry. It made you bitter.

Despite having missed breakfast, you met up with the rest of the team by the foot of the Quinjet as planned. You packed a single bag full of your things, making sure to pack light to make sure travel wouldn’t be so tiresome.

Natasha recapped everything that happened while you were gone in the morning, which wasn’t much. Steve took some of the bags into the Quinjet while everyone else buckled themselves in.

Wanda, who was yet to be seen, finally arrived. 

“Y/N, I’ve been looking for you,” she said, slightly breathless when she stood beside you. “I thought you were still in your room, so I was going to get you.”

You weren’t sure what to answer her with and you considered ignoring her and boarding the jet. But if you wanted anything from the mission, it was to come back to the Quinjet successful and to have minimal conflict with her.

So you answered with an acknowledging nod, “No, I just got here.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, placing a hand on your upper arm. “You skipped breakfast.”

“I’m fine. I wanted time to myself.”

“But-”

Natasha intervened, beckoning the two of you over and saying it was time to leave.

Wanda looked over at you, concern still drawn across her expression. But you ignored it and walked ahead, boarding the Quinjet with Wanda following silently behind you.

The high speeds the jet could reach allowed for the trip to Nunavut to be no longer than three hours, which wasn’t all too strenuous as trips often were before the latest Quinjet models that now incorporated several rooms and even a kitchen.

Despite the room on the jet, Wanda stayed in one place for a majority of the journey. She got up twice for the kitchen, but largely sat around the main seating deck where you were. No conversation took place between the two of you though you did catch Wanda looking at you several times.

As planned, the Quinjet landed in its designated spot.

Comms were secured and designed to reach the very northern tip of Nunavut to the very east, though bases were expected to be no further than six-hundred kilometres out, allowing for the team to exchange updates throughout the mission.

After double-checking each other’s supplies and going over the mission plan once more, you each set out for the HYDRA bases.

High-speed snowmobiles charged for week-long usage were supplied for travel. You drove the vehicle while Wanda clung onto you from behind. You had the company of Rhodes and Tony for the first forty minutes before they branched off, following the signal of their assigned base. 

Though it was snowing heavily and there was nothing but blinding white plains and mountainous terrain in the distance for as far as the eye could see, the tracker Wanda held grew stronger as you travelled further into the snowy Nunavut.

She fed you directions from behind every so often, arms wrapped snugly around your midriff.

You couldn’t see the way Wanda laid her head against your back, often forgetting to give you directions as she hugged herself close to you, feeling the most secure since the two of you last spoke before she partnered with Ultron, even if you didn’t converse very much. It’d been quite a while since the two of you spent so much time alone together.

“It’s ahead, Y/N,” Wanda told you after fiddling with the tracker and ensuring it was working properly. 

“Ahead?” you repeated. “Already?”

Wanda replied after a moment, likely adjusting the antenna of the tracker and double-checking the screen wasn’t broken. “It seems like it,” she said finally.

You sped ahead, eager to get the mission over with and head back to the Quinjet.

“There’s something strange about the signal… It’s getting stronger. Stronger than the signal back at the compound.”

“I know visibility is pretty low right now, but I can’t even see it. How is the signal that strong?” you told her. “Are you sure it isn’t picking something else up?”

Wanda assured, “It has the same signal impression, so it’s definitely the same base they picked up. But the technology they’re using is a lot stronger than what the compound detected.”

“Stronger… So, modern technology?”

“Which means more scientists,” she figured. “And the signal is only getting stronger. There’s maybe a lot more than ten scientists, Y/N.”

You looked ahead, letting the sound of the blowing wind and snow null things out momentarily as you considered the options. “How many more?” you asked Wanda.

She estimated, “If I were to guess and assume that the signal was only to get stronger before we arrived, then maybe thirty of them. I think we should wait for one of the others to finish. I don’t want to go in without knowing what’s waiting.”

“You said thirty of them.”

“But that’s only what I think. I’m not Tony or Steve, I don’t know how to read this as well as them. I’m not as experienced either.”

You heard the twinge of self-criticism in her words but you kept quiet about it, looking ahead and focusing on driving forward when your mind couldn’t detangle itself.

When several more moments passed without a response from you, Wanda’s arms squeezed gently around your waist. You felt the reassuring pressure of her embrace through your layers of winter gear. 

“What are we going to do, Y/N?” she asked.

You gnawed at your bottom lip. “It’s only been about two hours since we left the Quinjet,” you uttered, shouting above the noise of the wind. “Even if we waited for help, it’d probably be at least eight hours until even Stark and Rhodes could meet us, and they’re the closest to us right now.”

“So we meet them instead? Come back together?”

“No,” you answered. “There’s not much else we can do but power forward for now. We’ll map out the base, try and get an estimate of how many scientists we have to deal with, and if things seem to be in our favour we’ll continue with the plan. If not, we’ll wait.”

There were several small safehouses scattered around northeast Nunavut built covertly by SHIELD decades ago. The plan was to clear out the HYDRA bases, avoid casualties if possible, rest in the nearby safehouses whose coordinates were also programmed into the tracking devices, then head back to the Quinjet as soon as the journey could be made. If you had to wait for help, you’d have to do it in one of the safehouses.

The both of you chose not to alert the team of the base you were approaching for fear that it might distract them and take them away from their respective missions. They would be updated only in the case that the base would be too much to handle without help. There was nothing to gain in telling them what wasn’t absolutely necessary.

Wanda guided you forward for the next thirty minutes, her arm squeezed even tighter around your waist then it previously was. “We’re approaching,” she told you then looked past your shoulder.

You squinted through the thick blanket of snow, looking for a light or an outline of a building, anything for you to pinpoint where the base was visually.

“Can you see it?” Wanda asked.

“No, I can’t. Are you sure we’re close? Maybe we’re still a few miles out.”

Then in an urgent demand that made you break the snowmobile so hard that you nearly fell out of it, Wanda blurted out, “Stop, stop!” 

After catching your breath to calm your thumping heart, you looked back at her. “Holy shit, what?” you gasped.

“The HYDRA base should be right here,” she said. At the sight of your mistrusting expression, she lifted up the tracker and showed you the blinking red dot representing the base and the smaller blue dot that represented the snowmobile. They overlapped each other, meaning that it should’ve been right in front of you.

You got off of the vehicle and walked ahead, squinting and looking around at the snowy plain. Greys and whites stretched on for as long as you could see, and it was all you had been seeing for the last three hours.

Wanda got off of the snowmobile too, wrapped up in a heavy layer of winter gear and walking up to you as a circular ball of jackets and scarves. “Do you think it’s really out here? Maybe the tracker got water damaged or something.”

“I don’t think so,” you replied, stepping through the blinding white sheets of blowing snow.

The young witch ran up beside you, afraid to lose you in the hurricane-like winter. She buried her face further into the shelter of the scarf, leaving her eyes uncovered to allow herself to follow you closely.

“The signal and… now this,” you continued apprehensively. “There’s something that isn’t right with this base, and not just because we can’t see it.”

In the white expanse of snow that went on for kilometres more and mountains that lined the horizon, there was a single outlier.

You approached what looked like a metal pipe coming out from the ground, uncovered by the snow despite the way it had been coming down for the last three hours. A steady release of steam bellowed out from the pipe. You removed your glove and steadied your hand on top of the steam, only for it to be warmed. The snow that fell on your hand melted on-contact.

“Look how strong the signal is now,” Wanda mentioned, pointing to the edge of the screen.

You lifted the tracker up again, looking back down to those overlapping red and blue dots.

“The base is underground,” you told her, your eyes running across the snow you were standing on, then further down where you were sure the building stretched out below.

Eventually, an entrance was found after wandering through the shadowed tundra — a snowy stone walkway and a metal door rusted from years of usage and neglect. 

“Should we… go in?” Wanda asked you, clinging to the sleeve of your jacket with both hands. “Is it safe?” 

In concealed irritation, you took your arm away from her and opened the door. A warm burst of air hit your face and you kicked away the inches of snow behind the door to allow yourself enough space to step inside.

Wanda followed after you, her cheeks tinting a soft pink when the door closed behind her and the two of you were immediately developed in the warmth of the underground bunker. She pushed her hood back and removed her gloves.

The entrance den was small, giving off the illusion that one had found a storm cellar instead of a research base of an underground terrorist organisation.

You walked forward despite Wanda’s quiet whispers of forewarning, across the slotted floors that made visible piping from below and a leaky cement foundation that made you wonder how old this base must be. 

As you walked deeper into the bunker, the tracker’s coordinates of the technology that was sending out signals became more precise. It was stronger, quicker, and indicative of transmitting hundreds of gigabytes of data every few minutes. It wasn’t nearly as fast or efficient as the monitors Stark found in Sokovia’s research base where Wanda and Pietro were stationed, but perhaps only a few models behind.

Voices could be heard from around the corner, and the tracker specified that their primary monitor was but a few metres away.

Wispy tendrils snaked around Wanda’s fingers as she readied herself for any sudden attacks.

Carefully, you unzipped your jacket and pulled out a thermal camera. The base didn’t seem to be well insulated, which was likely why they had to make up for it with the amount of heating they used. Fortunately, this meant that the thermal camera could detect individuals through the wall you were hidden behind with ease.

They were positioned poorly around the lab, as if not under any suspicion that someone might intrude their base. There were six people walking on a levelled platform a few metres up by the ceiling, rounding the room’s perimeter and doing nothing in particular. Five people circled around the southern area of the large room, and there were seven in the centre where the lab monitors were.

You expanded the thermal camera’s range until it reached the outer borders of the bunker and found no outliers.

“Eighteen of them?” Wanda whispered, looking over your shoulder as she stayed close to the wall. “Why so few of them for such advanced technology?”

“For somewhere so far out and underground, maybe they had to overcompensate,” you supposed.

Wanda looked around, then at the details of the ceilings and elevated levels. “It looks like this used to be a bomb shelter repurposed for HYDRA,” she observed. “Pietro and I were experimented on in something similar.”

You bristled at the mention of their experimentation. You recalled the hours spent with Wanda as she talked about what Strucker did to her and her brother, the inhumane treatment and the trauma she received from it.

“If I go from up top and bring them down, we can move in on them in the middle of the lab,” you proposed, fidgeting with the thermal camera and looking up at the elevated floor above the staircase ahead.

“Wh- We’re going to separate?” Wanda whispered.

You reasoned, “We’re not going to take on eighteen of them coming in from one direction.”

“But where will you go?”

“Stay here and wait until you see me come through right there,” you said and pointed at the wall wherein the entrance to the lab’s elevated walkway could be seen beyond it.

Wanda stared at you as if to survey whether you were being sincere and looked away when you met her gaze. “Okay. I’ll wait here,” she uttered and stepped back, away from the view of anyone in the next room while having a clear view of the walkway.

Without another word, you turned and went back up the staircase you descended. You took a left and followed the path down to where the other side of the room became visible. 

Wanda watched you intently, ready to come to your aid if you were to suddenly need her help. Her eyes darted between you and the walkway in the other room.

You weren’t much for combat, so you helped Tony design weapons similar to Natasha’s Widow’s Bites. Vial-like ammo were ejected from small silent guns, attaching to a target’s exposed skin, preferably the neck, before releasing a toxin and attacking and incapacitating a target’s nervous system for up to an hour. From complete stupefaction to a remarkable loss of one’s senses, they were perfect for a swift in and out.

The first four people went down quickly with the other two fleeing for the stairs. They made to escape through the exit Wanda was waiting in but were quickly paralyzed with a wave of her fingers.

At the sight of you jumping down from the walkway, Wanda kept the scientists in the lab from escaping while you stunned four of the ones by the corridor and knocked the fifth unconscious.

You quickly disposed of the empty gun and switched to the other, landed two vials on two different scientists while Wanda clouded the minds of the last five.

You eyed them when they dropped to the floor.

“They’re just in a trance,” Wanda explained suddenly when she saw you looking at them. “I haven’t done anything to their minds.”

She hadn’t used her magic to brainwash anyone since her and Pietro’s fight with the Avengers, and certainly not after her argument with you.

Ignoring her, you moved to the monitors and took out a USB before extracting data from the primary console. The parts were easier to navigate because they were older, but there was a lot of data to extract. You’d get data out first then corrupt what the base had left.

Wanda was flipping through their files as you did your own work, looking up at you occasionally and eyeing your body for any sustained injury.

The monitor screen flickered on when you moved the mouse accidentally, and on it was a file that caught your eye. Though it was in Cyrillic, it was easy to read — The Enhanced.

A gasp came from Wanda that startled you and you looked over to her to see she was holding a file in two hands.

“What is that?” you asked.

Her words were firstly a jumble of stutters, but she eventually answered you. “It’s information on me and Pietro. They were studying the experiments on us.”

You looked at the file on the monitor.

The Enhanced.

She read from the file and thought out loud, “Underground and in an old bunker like this, they were trying to replicate the experiments, make new weapons and reuse the progress that Ultron made with the Mind Stone.”

After making the connection, Wanda looked around at the research base then at the scientists on the ground. Her hands trembled and she dropped the file, running her fingers through her hair and scratching at her palms to ground herself. 

“I cannot be here. We have to leave,” she told you.

“Just a few more moments, Wanda, this is almost finished.”

But she insisted angrily, “No, we have to go now! You do not understand the kinds of things these people do. I cannot be an experiment again. You cannot.”

She suddenly reached her hand out and placed it on top of the USB. The progress percentage on the console boosted up rapidly. Its internal wires glowed a dim red, an advanced version of Wanda’s neuroelectrical manipulation.

Within seconds, the data finished extracting and Wanda ejected the drive and placed it in your hand.

“Let’s go now,” Wanda told you hurriedly and took your hand, rushing the two of you up the stairs and down the walkway.

You left the way you came, but when you turned to get onto the snowmobile parked just outside, Wanda was still standing by the exit. 

“Wanda, what are you doing?” you called down to her, the loud blowing wind encapsulating the two of you once again. 

“We need to get rid of this base. Forever.”

You walked back over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Limited casualties,” you reminded her. 

When she turned to you, her eyes were filled with tearful fury. “Let me do this,” she said sternly.

You stared at her for a few moments before nodding and letting go of her. 

A gas pipe was snapped in half, so it blew out into the bunker.

With shaky hands, Wanda sped up the release from the heating pipes, bundling them up into a focused ball of hot steam so its temperature rose.

It continued to rise until the metal from the pipes and walls distorted from the heat, and you were sure Wanda’s wrath on its own contributed to that ball of heat’s temperature. 

At the first sight of a spark and a quick lick of a flame, Wanda shot the ball to the side at the expelling gas without warning. 

It happened within seconds; the bunker filled with purple flame and rushed right up to Wanda’s face. 

You reached over her shoulder and shut the bunker door before wrapping your arms around Wanda and moving her away. Her back made harsh contact with the stone wall adjacent to the door when you pushed yourself against her body, protecting her from the explosion. 

The purple flames cooled into orange, bursting out from the frames of the door and turning the snow on the ground to water. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed out, your heart racing.

You looked back over to Wanda, whose face was flushed pink with parted lips. She was no longer crying but her eyeliner was smudged beneath her waterline. She was looking at you though you could see the reflection of the flames in her green eyes. 

“Are you okay?” you asked. 

Her mouth closed and she swallowed. She blinked and simply nodded in response.

You nodded and said, “Okay. Good, okay.”

You stepped back from her and zipped your jacket up then put your gloves back on.

“We should head to the safehouse now,” you advised. “Update the team then get some rest, and we can leave for the Quinjet tomorrow morning.”

Wanda only nodded again. She watched you as you ascended the steps and mounted the snowmobile. She fitted her hat back on and then her gloves, and caught her breath as she followed after you. 

She took her seat behind you on the snowmobile and wrapped her arms around your waist.

“Ready?” you asked. 

She nodded, feeling the back of your jacket against her cheek. “Ready.”

You held the tracker in your other hand as you drove to the nearest safehouse. Tony and Rhodes wouldn’t be there, for their nearest one was thirty miles south. But you didn’t dread being alone with Wanda as much as you did before. 

A part of you that hadn’t been awoken since the last you spent those evening hours awake talking with Wanda sparked a modest flame. Recollections of your time with her spread out during the last few months came to you in the blinding white plains of the Nunavut tundra.

On the way back to the compound after a mission a few months ago, Wanda had stayed with you in one of the rooms and tended to your injuries. She was surprisingly proficient in bandaging you up and keeping you elevated, and while you sat in quiet disdain for her, she reminisced aloud about how she and Pietro had to care for themselves for most of their life on their own and how caring for someone else often made her think of him.

The journey to the safehouse was a twenty minute drive. The building was larger than you envisioned.

You dug through the depths of your jacket for a key safely stored for the safehouse and opened the garage. It was miraculous that it still worked. 

The team was reassured that the buildings were safe from being built with any malicious intent during SHIELD's active operation, and were nearly forgotten until the exploration of Nunavut was proposed. 

You stepped off of the snowmobile and had Wanda unlock the door and take the bags in while you pulled the vehicle into its proper storage inside so it wouldn’t be frozen outside by the time you left in the morning. 

Locking the door behind you when you stepped into the house, you shedded off your layers and hung them from the hangers, moving your boots to the side beside Wanda’s. 

The place felt brisk the moment your jacket came off so you wandered around looking for a thermostat. From what you were all told, each safehouse came with three bedrooms and bathrooms, a common room, and a kitchen. 

You found the kitchen first, then a hungry Wanda who was standing by the counter with canned tuna and a glass of tap water. 

“Are you hungry?” she asked you, offering you the can of tuna. 

Looking around, you took the fork from her. “Where did you find this?” you inquired with a laugh. 

“There’s some food here, but they’re all raw or canned. Made to last, I would think,” she noted and took out another can from the pantry before peeling the top open. She took a fork from the counter.

“I turned on the heat when I came in,” she told you. “It should get a bit warmer in a few minutes.”

You looked through the pantry and took out a box of macaroni and cheese, then turned on the oven, feeling the prongs heat up. “Do you want to share some pasta?” 

“Yes, please.”

Within forty minutes, you’re sitting on the common area couch with Wanda in silence, eating cheesy boxed macaroni.

For the first time, you felt strange looking back at your history with Wanda before Ultron. It twisted something in your stomach and made your shoulders tense. 

Looking at her docile expression, unsuspecting and delicate as she sat across from you, legs crossed on the couch as she ate with you. The dim lamp from the corner of the room beside the broken television cast the silhouettes on her face you often used to follow with your eyes when she laid beside you in the plot of grassy land in front of the hideout she and Pietro used for a period of time after Strucker vanished. It was warm – the last few weeks of summer.

It was March now, months since the battle on Sokovia and even longer since the last time you spent this kind of time with Wanda.

Wanda put her empty bowl down and took a sip of water. She wrapped her fingers around the cold glass, her thumb running over the ring on her index finger.

“I know you don’t like me,” she uttered suddenly, “so I would understand if you never forgave me for what I’ve done to you.”

You looked up from the bowl in your lap and at Wanda, who was looking down at her fingers avoidantly.

“But I will always look up to you,” she continued. “You are so brave and kind. You are what I had wished I was becoming when I worked with HYDRA, and when I allied with Ultron. But I made a mistake. And I keep making mistakes.”

“You’re doing okay,” you told her suddenly before you realised what you were saying.

Then you added, “Everyone thinks so.”

Wanda looked at you, studying your face for what felt to you like quite a while. “When I looked inside your mind,” she said, “I saw something pure. I feel the same for you as I did before, if not with more gravity. I want to know more about you and these things I can feel that you love.” 

“What do you want to know?”

“This Shakespeare — I have read him and understand very little of what he writes about, or rather how he writes. I made my own way through several acts of Hamlet but found I could not pretend I found any sense of enjoyment in his writing. His works are enjoyable to you?”

And then you were laughing a kind of laugh that made you place your bowl on the coffee table to avoid spilling it over.

Wanda smiled as she watched you, the crinkling of your eyes that she found pleasing to look at and the unrestrained sound of sincere joy that came from you, especially when it was because of her and no one else. She laughed, quietly and with a few chuckles.

“That was funny?” she asked, still smiling.

You nodded and answered, “Yes.”

But she continued to look at you, anticipating an answer.

“He writes strangely, but because he lived from quite a while ago when the English language was different,” you said. “But also because he was an artist, and like any other artist, his work can be interpreted. Overtime, it’s become easier for me to understand his age of English, but the poetry of his works have become no less interesting to me.”

“What’s interesting about it?”

“There’s an eloquence to his style of writing, I think,” you thought aloud. “And for certain works like Hamlet, for example, it’s tragic and ironic, with beautifully written characters, all within a bound book of one of the most artistic styles of writing I’ve come across. He’s-”

Wanda leaned over, the sudden act making you halt your words and look over to her, only for her hand to find the side of your face. Her lips met yours in one swift movement and her eyes fluttered shut. 

Her nose was decorated with freckles.

You stumbled back in your seat and Wanda’s hand lifted to your knee. 

She parted from you, looking down at her hand on your knee and her fingers slowly retracting from your cheek.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stuttered, her cheeks flushing.

Carefully, you took the glass away from her and placed it beside her empty bowl. Wrapping your hand around her wrist, you pulled her closer to you until her other hand was forced to remove itself from your knee and lay itself down on the couch by your hip.

You kissed her with a sudden ferocity that made her breath hitch.

“Wanda,” you breathed.

She moved closer to you so she was sitting up on her knees in front of you.

Your hands moved down her body, arching her back with your fingers pressing into her sides so you could kiss up her stomach then between her clothed breasts.

With a pleasured sigh, Wanda’s hands came up to the sides of your head, her fingers playing with your hair and urging you to kiss her body. 

Now irritated by the distance between you and her bare skin, your fingers hooked around the collar of her long-sleeved white shirt and yanked down. 

Wanda hid a grin in your hair and kissed the top of your head. 

You kissed the swells of her breasts, burying your face in her chest and nipping at her delicate skin. You craved more and your fingers pulled down her bra, exposing rosy nipples. Your tongue ran up one of them and they hardened at your contact.

“I like that,” Wanda said, an arm wrapping around your neck and pulling you closer to her. 

“Yeah?” you answered, looking up at her from between her breasts. You kissed up her chest and neck, running your tongue up her pulse point and making her squirm. “What else do you like, pretty girl?”

She blushed at the pet name and hid her face against the side of your head. 

“Anything, Y/N,” she answered. “Anything from you.”

You wrapped your arm around her ass and picked her up from the couch, making her giggle and wrap her legs around your hips. Your other arm was wrapped around her waist.

Wanda kissed your forehead and your temple while you peppered kisses against her throat.

You carried her up the stairs and towards one of the bedrooms Wanda pointed at. You flicked on the lamp on the nightstand and lowered Wanda onto the bed. 

She pulled your shirt off when you leaned over her while you unbuttoned and slipped her jeans off. Her legs were smooth and you couldn’t help but run your hands up the sides of them, gripping at her soft thighs and her hips. 

Her shirt was pulled off next while you took your pants off. 

You tucked your hands under her ass and you lifted her further up the bed, which made her laugh. You leaned back down when she was laid in the middle and kissed her. 

Her hands ran up your stomach and undressed you until you were bare on top of her. You unclipped her bra and wrapped your lips around one of her nipples, kneading her other with your hand. 

Her back arched up against you and she wrapped a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you close.

“Gods, you’re beautiful, Wanda.”

She shuddered when your hand ran down her bare stomach and you grinned against her cheek when you realised how sensitive Wanda was. 

Your free hand pinched one of her nipples between your thumb and index finger and she yelped before burying her face in your hair.

You slipped her panties off and dragged your fingers through her folds that were already slick with her anticipation. 

Wanda’s cheek warmed your lips when you kissed them for she was flushed, overwhelmed and embarrassed being exposed for someone like you. She idolised you, regarded you with high praise and adoration. 

To have you kiss breasts and call her beautiful, to touch her in a way she hadn’t been in years. But even her first time had been rushed, a decision made at the snap of her fingers.

Your fingers were brought to your lips and you licked her juices from them. Wanda’s eyes widened at the act and you grinned down at her. You ran a thumb over her bottom lip and kissed her, her flavour melding between your dancing tongues.   

You reached down between your stomachs and jerked your hand around your stiff cock. Wanda’s eyes followed your hand and her lips parted at the sight of you. You pecked her lips, amused at her awe. 

A hand ran up her cunt, collecting her slick and coating yourself in it. 

“Are you ready, Wanda?” you asked, looking up at her. 

She nodded eagerly, hugging her arms around your neck tightly. “I’m ready.”

You entered her with a long groan, feeling her soft walls squeeze around your cock. Her eyes were squeezed shut, shaky whimpers leaving her. 

“Y/N,” Wanda groaned. “That hurts.”

“You’re so tight,” you told her. “I’ll be careful.”

She opened her eyes and pulled you down to her so she could kiss you. “No. I want you, please. Harder.”

You wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting the lower half of her body from the bed and angling her hips down against your thighs. 

With two hands on either of her hips, you pulled her up and down, fucking her on your cock as Wanda’s mouth fell open, broken moans and cries of pleasure singing from her throat. 

She reached a hand down to you and you took it, interlacing your fingers as you dug your other hand’s nails into the side of her ass. 

Her ass slapped down against your thighs and you could only stare at her in admiration, watching her breasts bounce on her chest with every thrust into her, the sounds that came out of her that were for you, the sound of your name on her tongue that was moaned in a way that no one would ever have the pleasure of hearing for their own names. 

Your hand moved between Wanda’s hips and you laid your hand flat against her lower stomach while your thumb began drawing circles around her clit. 

“Oh my, Y/N!” Wanda cried. “Oh, I feel so strange.”

She was quite sensitive, nearing her climax so soon. You kissed up her stomach and let go of her hips, laying her flat down on the bed and mounting yourself over her. You kiss her and massage one of her breasts.

“Let me see you, Wanda. Come for me.”

Wanda buried her face in your neck, her hot breath panting against your chest while your thrusted into her and grasped harshly at her hip to maintain a strong hold on her delicate body while you fucked her. 

She babbled out a mess of half-finished words and her walls tightened around you. 

You lifted your head to see her and Wanda’s head was thrown back, her fingernails digging into your upper arms as she came. Her orgasm washed over her in heavy forceful waves, making her shudder and tighten her knees around your hips. 

There was a certain pride in making Wanda come, a young girl so often taken by timidity and whose inner feelings were unshared with those she did not find solace in. To have her shudder under you, hands grasping desperately at your body while she cried out your name sent bursts of warmth up your chest.

She took your head between her hands and pressed shaky kisses to your face, up the bridge of your nose and against your cheekbones, to your forehead and finally back down to your lips. “Let me get you off,” she whispered.

You switched positions with you now laying on your back, Wanda on her knees by your ankles. You reached down and ran your fingers through her hair in admiration, then down her cheek. Wanda smiled at you and kissed your hip.

She firstly took your cock with both hands, flicking the tip of her tongue against your tip. She ran her tongue through your slit gently then wrapped her lips around you, hands jerking you slowly.

When she had you with your head thrown back and your cock stiff in her hands, Wanda let go of you and kissed up the length of your shaft.

“Y/N, you’re so beautiful,” she said, looking up at you from below. “The most beautiful person I’ve ever been lucky enough to know. I haven’t treated you as I should. I do not deserve your patience, and certainly not any permission to see you this way. But I hope to show you how much I adore you. Because I do. I truly do.”

“Wanda…” you uttered quietly, ready to protest before she wrapped her lips around your tip again and bobbed her head down.

She took a few inches at a time and you felt her throat open up for you as she moved her head down. One hand rubbed at your thigh and the other was placed atop your hip. She adjusted her position, kneeling and arching her back to get as low as she could, her ass stuck up in the air. She inched further down, relaxing her throat until her nose brushed your lower stomach.

She took your hand with hers and placed it against the back of your head.

You took hold of her hair and pulled her up along your cock and back down. You could hear Wanda’s mouth attempting to accommodate you with every entry into her mouth. She breathed through her nose, her grip tightening around your thigh as she drooled around your cock.

You pulled her up further occasionally so her lips reached only your tip, allowing her space to breathe before pushing her back down.

Wanda never protested, only looked up at you with sheer determination to bring you pleasure. She did gag at the depth you were fucking her throat in, though still that seemed to please you and Wanda was satisfied.

After ten minutes, you pulled Wanda off of your cock, wiping the drool from her chin and uttering, “Good, Wanda. That was good.”

But she was drunk on the taste of your cock, the pre-cum she was treated with occasionally when she curled her tongue around you a specific way and sucked at you with a certain velocity. 

“I want more,” she objected and kissed up your cock again, her tongue running up your veins and kissing your tip, running it through her lips and sucking at it teasingly. She rubbed her cheek against your wet cock then ran her tongue up it.

So you took her head between both hands and positioned her over your cock. She parted her lips instinctively and you jutted your hips up into her face, thrusting her throat down onto your dick at a speed vastly different than before, your speed having increased tenfold.

Wanda grasped the blankets and scratched at your hips while she tried her best to take you as deep and fast as you wanted, using her for nothing but your own pleasure. Her eyes filled with tears and her saliva coated the base of your shaft.

Your hips bucked up into her face and Wanda looked up at you, studying intently the line that formed between your eyebrows and the way your eyes squeezed shut. She flattened her tongue and wrapped it around your cock, flicking it side to side where it could fit. 

“Wanda- Fuck, I’m coming!” 

You shot your cum down her throat, your hands on either side of her head pushing her back gradually to fill her mouth with your cream, then finally you pulled out altogether to cum onto her face. 

With the tip of your cock, you rubbed your cum against her lips and cheeks. Wanda smiled and kissed your shaft proudly.

You wiped it off her face and ran your coated fingers through her messy hair while Wanda swallowed what she could, licking your cum from her fingers too.

“God, you’re fucking filthy.”

Wanda grinned and climbed up.

You wrapped your arms around her body, kissing each other’s tired faces. 

She twirled your hair around her fingers and with her cheek pressed against yours lazily, she whispered, “I’m tired, Y/N.”

“Sleep,” you answered and put a hand to the back of her head, letting her rest her head on your chest. You kissed her hair damp with sweat, and rubbed her smooth bare back as she dozed off. 

You muttered confessions of your adoration of her against her head, kissing her forehead in her sleep and eventually covering your bare bodies in thick blankets.

For now, she wouldn’t know how you admired her, her intelligence and her kindheartedness, her strength and her beauty. The green of her eyes and the softness of her smooth curves, the feeling of her lips and the smoothness of her skin.

But perhaps she would know at some point or another, and that brought you joy – a future you could imagine with her.

You pulled Wanda against your chest and kissed the top of her head.

A future with her.

The very thought comforted you, and you fell asleep soon after her.

[reality-exodus]

The Falcon and the Owl

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader!Stark Word count: 2377 Summary: reader and Sam meet at the party during age of Ultron and flirt when there’s a fight Sam saves reader’s life.

I was never an official avenger thanks to my brother, Tony, I didn’t care that much after a point. I had taken an noticeable part in the SHIELD as a manager of the Stark Industries and the main graphist designer for my brother’s crazy ideas. I was a doctor in reality with love of experimenting in genetics, Nick Fury was particularly interested in my love for that subject and had me in the helicarrier many times…

Tonight though, it was a day off. It had been a hard mission for the avengers and they needed a small soiree so I contacted Maria Hill and James Rhodes and had it arranged immediately, calling  the closest of the fellow heroes that saved the world last year. I was fixing the cava carefully as the guests began to arrive.

I was sitting at the top of the stairs leaned on a pillar with a glass of rum staring down at the party, I liked that everyone was having fun. I saw my brother with Thor they were speaking and giggling as Nat was serving them, there was Helen with Rhodey speaking as Banner approached Nat in the bar. Clint was with Maria and Happy laughing and drinking beers.

“How come you hosted a party Steve, didn’t know Avengers were a social club.” Sam joked, I didn’t flinch it wasn’t polite to listen to conversations you weren’t included.

“We had a tough week, so Dr. Stark made this surprise for us.” Steve approached me and turned down to me. “Why are you sitting here…?” he asked me and smiled down at me.

“I am spectating the children Steve, making sure they are having fun.” I smiled back at him. “So children… are you having fun?” I asked and turned at the two.

“Are you sure avengers ain’t a social club?” he asked and turned at me confused.

“Steve… look down there…” I pointed to the floor he looked confused and did stare at where I was showing him. “You dropped your manners, because you didn’t  introduce us…” I joked and Sam laughed while Steve rolled his eyes and nudged my side. I laughed and slapped his hand, he knew I was ticklish.

“I assumed you knew him since you invited him…” Steve spoke and looked between us. Sam turned at me to see what I would reply.

“To be honest he doesn’t ring a bell.” I spoke up and looked at him. I tried to be as indifferent as I could, I do not know why…

“That’s a first, people usually remember me, especially women.” Sam responded with a smile, it was a funny smile.

“I like your confidence… but I still do not recall your name.” I reminded him, I just  had the need to get over confident and self aware people a bit off their little cute castle of confidence… that’s what childhood trauma smells like, with a brilliant minded brother like Tony.

“Sam Wilson, Trauma counselor and pararescue Jumper U.S. air force… and very charmed” Sam spoke bowing lightly and looked at me with a playful gaze. I held back a chuckle, it was a natural response when people were matching my sass and weren’t awkward or scared of how I responded. Steve had left us alone and I didn’t realize when it happened.

“Nice to meet you Samuel, I am Y/N, Y/N Stark. Co- Owner Graphic Manger in Stark Industries, Neurosurgeon, Shield agent in the science department… PhD in Metropolitan college at Pathology.” I introduced myself and smiled at him cocky, he was taller than me even though I was wearing heels, for a moment I saw Tony’s gaze over at me but I turned my back.

“Ah, is that all?” Sam asked and looked at me, taking a sip from his drink.

“No there are more. I just don’t want you to feel bad.” I spoke up coldly my gaze looked at him trying to not look at him, with a polite and slightly amused smirk, he seemed to enjoy it. I was enjoying it…

“Oh do tell, Perhaps I will  visit a Trauma Counselor afterwards” Sam joked back and I raised my eyebrows at his responses.

“I happen to be a Forensic Genetist from the SHIELD academy and a teacher for Russian… I also speak Italian Greek and French… and I paint in my free time.” I added and sipping my glass of wine elegantly. “I’ll cover the expenses if you are feeling overshadowed I smiled but I got serious clutching my head as I heart a high pitched frequency as if electrified cables were on contact.

“Are you alright…?” Sam asked me his hand gently touching my forearm, I turned down stairs at my brother, he looked buzzed as well but he kept talking with the people at the small lounge.

“Yes, i am but-Oh…” I spoke and looked at my original design working. “Ultron…” I murmured as the robot stumbled, Sam was dragging me slowly closer to the rest as I was staring at it, it’s a bad habit I had… it was a magical feeling see my designs alive and walking every time Tony created something I designed I was swallowed by this feeling of satisfaction, he looked good and he would look even better with the final designs and the color it would look even better than before.

“Mhm- Some dreams, gotta kill the other one-.” The robot mumbled in low volume, he grabbed his head, Sam had me moving backwards slowly. “He was a good guy…” he said and turned at us.

“You killed someone…” Steve asked, I hadn’t realized how close to the rest we were;

“How did you activate yourself- You weren’t even half built.” I asked and looked at it.

“The other guy helped me… He was a good guy.” He responded again, it was as if we had an actual conversation

“Who sent you?” Thor asked, staring at it like death, the tension in all of them was giving me the chills, even Tony seemed anxious on the matter.

“What do you plan on doing?” my voice was heard, it was a recording the robot was playing it. “I see armors all over the world” then it was my brother’s voice.

“Yltron…” Bruce realized and stared at my brother…

“In the flesh…” the robot spoke and excuse me was that sarcasm I heard in his tone, other than coldness and reality. “Well not yet… Not like that, I have some updates to perform and a new body, the one mother designed for me… Its under construction, the other guy gave me the blueprints.” He said and turned to me.

I heard clicking, agents preparing their guns… “Jarvis…” I whispered, it was the man that raised me when my parents passed away Tony was 21 and I was 14, Jarvis was our butler, he was named after him since AI Jarvis was our baby sitter.

“I am on a mission, Peace at our time.” He said and the walls of the lab behind him broke by my brother’s flying suits that started shooting at us. Sam got my waist and pulled me behind the table Steve flipped as he was swiped away.

“Stay here- you’ll be-“ Sam was to say looking down at me as I raised my dress and took out the small knife I hid to my thigh.

“I’ll be safe- I know, I didn’t mention gymnastics before huh?” I asked and raised my head from the side, he pushed me down by my shoulder as there was a shot towards me.

“You look like you don’t know it thoughj. It’s a knife Y/N how will you fight robots with that. scratch the tin cans?” he asked me infuriated by what he translated as ignorance and recklessness.

“Well, I am a scientist Wilson I know how to disable them… I only need something sharp, other than your jaw.” I said, hopefully the flirting would manipulate him into letting me do what I want.  Rhodes slid down the stairs to get to us, as I waved at him. But before he could reach us a suit blasted him, “James” I exclaimed and looked at that way.

Sam turned to help him but a suit snatched him, he was trying to make it to let him be but as he mentioned this was not human, he seemed to struggle. “Y/N don’t do it” he spoke as I was already climbing up stairs to get on to higher ground and tossed my heels aside.

“Tony cable color.” I exclaimed jumping over the railings. My hands and legs hugged the back of the robot as I shoved the knife between the neck and the clavicle, it was one of the two vulnerable spots I left.

“Damn you Y/N what are you doing! Ugh… Black and white…” Tony spoke his eyes pinned on me as Maria Hill pushed him aside…

“Get off of it, I got this!” Sam groaned, still held firmly by the evil robots.

“You really don’t look like you are enjoying yourself Wilson and I intend to alter that.” I spoke, my voice heavy as  was trying to find the cable my brother said, once I shoved the knife in the thin opening the armor allowed Sam to fall and smashed me to the wall- I felt the air move out of my lungs as we the hand it grasped my neck and brought me to the front. I was squirming- couldn’t breath- I saw Sam jump over it and finish my job.

I fell to the ground, as Sam landed on top of the robot, I turned over and saw Helen, hiding behind the piano and I ran towards her when a robot was right above us, I got in front of Helen- then I thought… I am unarmed, I cover her with myself when Steve came right in front of me to do the same- When the robot was to shoot Clint got the shield and tossed it to him protecting us... and then throwing it to Thor who smashed it.

“That was dramatic, I know you mean well. You just didn’t think it through…You want to protect the world but you do not want it to change…” Ultron said and I slowly stood up, I wanted to take a closer look at him, at the design at the way he was standing and functioning, he wasn’t even ready. I walked passed Steve, he didn’t seem to pay much attention to me but Sam did and held my forearm so I would stay in place. “How can you expect a world to be safe if It is not allowed to evolve.” He added and turned, his shiny blue eyes evolving around us. “There’s only one path to peace. Tony was next to me as Sam was holding me back… “The avengers extinction.” The robot growled and turned his shooters at me, I gasped and Tony dragged me behind him before, a second later, Mjonir, was smashing him into the wall…

Sam and Tony turned at me at the same time “Are you okay?” they asked all at once and looked at me concerned before turning to each other, Sam raised his brows while Tony was frowning at him. “Are you okay?” Sam ignored him looking at me. “As I mentioned I know how to take care of myself… you on the other hand need stitches.” I noticed, my throat was sore but I didn’t like looking weak. Only Tony would ever meet this side of me…

“Oh- you noticed… I knew you couldn’t take your eyes off of me.” Sam spoke and winked as he raised his sleeve gently. I iodine and took the needle on the small pair of scissors as I sat down. I was gently stitching him up.

“I can take my eyes of off you now if you want.” I smiled, my gaze was looking at him, to his wound to be precise, I felt my hands shake gently but I ignored it.

“No please.” Sam chuckled and looked at me. I didn’t avert my gaze from my motions though… “You don’t seem as confident as before… I shall remind you my trauma counselor expertise…” Sam spoke and looked at me he held my wrist as I was finishing with his stitches.

“Do not worry about my mental health… Worry about your general health in case you don’t take me out on a date…” I spoke and swallowed.

“Oh- I may be curious on what you’ll do if I don’t do so…” Sam said and approached his face towards me, we were only a breath away but I didn’t flinch. I only stared at him.

“Trust me dearest, you do not desire to witness the ruthless side of me.” I smiled and patted his cheek with my hand and turned my back to leave, but he held my wrist. I paused and didn’t look at him.

“I could call you if you give me your number” Sam spoke, his voice wasn’t funny like before.

“Look for it I do not know it.” I responded and removed my hand from his grip…

I walked further inside the lab, Dr. Banner was coming out as I walked in to see my brother looking there straight faced. His gaze blank. “Jarvis…” I whispered, it was our cute little invasion, he was making all the algorithms while I was trying to give him an appearance, I was 19 and Tony was 26…

Tony’s gaze was raised upon me, he surveyed me for two full moments before he came and pulled me in a hug. “What were you thinking jumping to that armor?” he asked me and cupped my face, he raised my chin up wards to take a look at my neck. “They left a mark…” he sighed and looked into my eyes.

I couldn’t hide from my brother no matter how hard I tried… he was always able to read me. My eyes shone as I looked up at him. I simply sobbed a bit before he pulled me in a hug. “Does it hurt?” he asked me and I nodded looking at him... He kissed my forehead…

[pandagirl45]

I want to see Colonel Rhodes introduce his American Captain husband to his comrades, or Tony introduce Bucky to employees.Please

I'll do you one better, I'll do both ^-^ because both is cute or hilarious.

(Rhodey's comrades meeting Steve)

The colonel mentioned something about bringing his partner, who was very insistent on coming. It wasn't a new thing significant others come to the base. What the comrades of Colonel Rhodes wasn't excepting was Captian America. In the flesh. The taller blonde held the colonel hand. An easy smile on the blonde face, the team stared for a whlle longer.

"Team, this is my partner, steve." He spoke with casual politeness. Fondness from their colonel eyes. Steve looked back with equal fondness.

There was an easiness about them, as steve greeted them all. For a guy from the 20s to 40s, he seems to settle being with their colonel. Not that was a bad thing but, "how did... you, you know?"

The others looked back at the first person to ask what they all were thinking. It's just, how?

Rhodes eyes rolled harder than they ever seen. He usually does that with his own commanders. They call the rhodes eye roll. The longest drawn out eye roll. Steve didn't look offended, "we got together after I got injured and I asked him out high off sedatives."

This time their colonel snorted tapping the blonde chest, "It was after blondie. Now," their colonel rubbed at the taller cheek, "You met my other work team. Gonna get back safe?"

Steve hummed leaning into the colonels hand, "yes sir."

The team stared with a pause of surprise as they caught the unflappable man get a shade of red in his cheeks. A Cheshire cat grin from the hero, a legend. They are dating. They are actually dating.

Another pause, as the colonel turned his attention back to the team, "what?"

"You guys are a power couple!"

This time, their colonel had a sharper grin, "Alright, Everyone suit up, no more questions about my personal life."

(Tony's employees meeting Bucky)

For the employees of stark industries to transform into a rumor mill was not one some workers bingo cards. It's not a terrible worklife. Honestly, the new building is cozier and safer.

What made the building become a blockade for rumors and whispers is one Winter Soldier walking in holding flowers, a bag that smelled like a burger, a cooler on one arm.

The short haired super soldier had his classic sour expression. With the flowers and food, it looked like a prank was done on him. Who could this super soldier be here for? Some say it is for the scientist. Some say it's for Miss Potts as a surprise from happy through the soldier.

What the employees of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts was to see the shorter of the two barrel out of the stair way. Hands already reaching out. Their boss didn't care for much, but color them all shock when the expression on the solider changed from dour to pleased.

"Hey kitt."

Their boss did a small shush, but the lights gave away his excited grin and reddening cheeks, "you came. Comfortable?"

"Missed you. I'll swallow the nerves."

This time their boss frowned but sighed out, "they say I'm stubborn. Alright buck-a-boo, let go to my office."

"Kinky," was the wolf like smirk that the employees looked away from. Their boss voice mumbling lowly. Again, not on the Bingo cards.

"Not like that, calm down white wolf." Their boss stopped looking at everyone, flowers resting in his arms, "Hello my fellow minions who do a phenomenal job! This is my boyfriend, Bucky! Please don't crowd him."

That was it, the pair left while having a silent conversation. The employees stared as the two was gone. A new rumor forming on if they formed a psychic link. It's possible in their world of many possibilities.

[duranduratulsa]

Duran Duran - "Meet El Presidente" (The Presidential Suite Extended Mix)

80's Fest Duran Duran song 🎵 of the day: Meet El Presidente (The Presidential Suite) (1987) from Notorious #duranduran #meetelpresidente #meetelpresidentethepresidentialsuite #notorious #durandurannotorious #SimonLeBon #nickrhodes #johntaylor #rogertaylor #rogertaylorduranduran #andytaylor #80s #80sfest #durandurantulsas5thannual80sfest

[shanastoryteller]

happy pride!! dealer’s choice <3

Steve is going to die again just a few short years after waking up in this new world and his death is going to be significantly less glorious the second time around.

“You don’t think he’s going to come,” Duke Rhodes says, tied up next to him and in even worse shape than he is. An unfortunate side effect of not being a sorcerer’s experiment and being nearly a decade older than him, he assumes.

“You do?” he asks, too exhausted to filter himself like he tries to do around him.

Rhodes raises an eyebrow. “I think his champion and his general are tempting enough bait, yes. Listening to their demands and showing up alone is also the most foolish choice he could possibly make, so I’m confident the king won’t be able to help himself.”

Those words would be treason from anyone else, but Rhodes has long been King Anthony’s personal confidant, and the one managing this war for the king from the beginning. Steve supposes that grants the man a certain level of leeway.

Steve is, now and always, exactly what he was enchanted to be. The King’s Champion. From the moment he woke up in a land at once so familiar and so different from his own, he renewed the vow he took seventy years ago. To serve his king and uphold the dignity of the realm so long as a Stark sat on the throne.

King Howard, however, had been an easier man to serve. He’d at least taken the time to meet with Steve, for one, had taken an active interest in the war he fought rather than delegating it and holing himself up in his castle. He’d been cold, and detached in many way from the realities of the war he’d started, but he was a king, and his attention, however brief, had always rallied the troops in a way that Steve admired.

King Anthony at least delegates well, he’ll give the man that. Rhodes does not come from noble blood, something they share, but by the time Steve woke up here it was long past something others were willing to hold against Rhodes. His title of Duke had been a gift from the king. His title of General had been one he earned.

“Steve?” Rhodes frowns, eyeing him like he’s looking for injuries that he hasn’t noticed.

Perhaps Steve is more injured than he thinks, because he doesn’t have the good sense to stop himself from saying, “He did not come for his alchemist.”

He tenses, but Rhodes just sighs, shifting in his bonds as if trying to find a more comfortable position even though if that existed, they would have found it by now. “You hold a grudge for something that happened not only before your time, but for something that Edward does not.”

“Edward is too forgiving,” he says stiffly and doesn’t say the same of Rhodes even though he thinks it often.

He sees the warmth and tenderness and affection between Rhodes and Edward clearly and it galls him that Rhodes has so easily forgiven his king leaving the man Rhodes loves to die. Edward is often trying to coax Steve and Rhodes into a more affectionate relationship, but it’s a hurdle Steve can’t quite overcome.

When he’d first awoken there had been nothing but mourning and determination and another war and then there was Edward. Infuriating and funny and warm and completely irreverent, the only person who seemed to treat him as more than cursed and made his terrible circumstances feel like home. Alchemist, armorer, blacksmith – he seemed to do everything and anything required by the crown and with a speed and skill that left Steve breathless. Rhodes may be directing and managing the war but without Edward’s tinctures and potions and weapons and armor, the war would have been lost long ago.

And when he’d been kidnapped and held for ransom, their enemy demanding the king’s presence to free him, the king had stayed safe in his castle.

Steve understood it logically. He’d had no queen or heir at the time and was the last legitimate Stark. Even if he’d been the type of king who cared about his people, he could not risk himself for a subject, no matter how valuable, no matter how much that subject sacrificed or gave or how valuable he was.

But that was just as true for him and Rhodes as it was for Edward and the king had left Edward to be tortured. They had tried to force him to make weapons, to betray his king, and Edward had refused. Steve saw some of the marks of that torture even now, years later, and he could not bring himself to love a king who did not care for that devotion, who hid away in his castle and let better men fight for his kingdom.

He was not required to love his king, only obey and serve him, and that Steve had always done.

He’d earned his title too. Both under King Howard and King Anthony. Being the King’s Champion did not mean being his friend. Not that was something he could claim to be, when he’d never even met the man.

“The Iron Mage saved him and the Iron Mage serves the king,” Rhodes points out, as if Steve doesn’t know that. “Isn’t that enough?”

The Iron Mage is his battle brother and his friend and yet another pillar keeping the kingdom steady while King Anthony can’t seem to be bothered. He holds the light of a star in the center of his chest and uses magic like a blunt weapon, the elements of the star sliding over his body, shifting and changing metals as he brutalizes the battlefield. Those that had captured Edward had found their base reduced to rubble and the Iron Mage appeared wielding a power that not even Sorcerer Strange could explain.

They said he was Goddess blessed, sent from the heavens as a shooting star to aid the king in his war, to ensure victory for the Starks who ruled by divine right of the Goddess Herself. Steve wasn’t sure of all that. The Iron Mage seemed man enough, for all he was constantly covered in his strange shifting, shimmering metal. His voice came out raspy and too low, as if he was in pain, and Steve often wondered if holding the core of a star was worth the consequences, but he was the last one to ask questions like that, considering what he’d allowed Sorcerer Erskine to do to him. The Iron Mage’s humor was wry and ever present despite that, and Steve often thought that he and Edward would get along, if the Iron Mage could ever be coaxed into spending time off the battlefield with the man he saved all those years ago.

But he couldn’t quite lay that victory at King Anthony’s feet. If anything, it seemed like the Iron Mage had used saving Edward as a way to secure his place at the king’s side, rather than that he’d been sent by the king in the first place. No one had heard of such a mage before that, after all.

“Perhaps the Iron Mage will come for us,” he says instead of answering. It’s possible. But the Iron Mage is supposed to be on the other end of the battlefield by now and by the time he hears of his and Rhodes’s capture, it may be too late.

Rhodes shakes his head. “You need to have a little more faith in your king.”

“Why should I?” he snaps, knowing starting an argument when they’re literally tied together is a dumb decision, but like most of his dumb decisions, he can’t help himself. “When King Howard dragged us to war, he at least let us see his face, he made an effort. I hardly expect a king to take to the battlefield, but King Anthony stays in his castle, with his drink and his women if the rumors are to be believed. Queen Virginia has introduced herself to the soldiers several times but the king has not. What sort of man is he to ask faith from me?”

“Well, I said faith, not trust,” Rhodes says tiredly. “Tony didn’t start this war and he’s doing his best to end it.” It’s rare that Rhodes will slip into the familiar name for the king, but it startles Steve every time, the reminder of just how close the general and the king are, and how little that closeness had mattered when Edward was captured. “Although I’ll grant you that you’re right about one thing.”

Steve is exhausted suddenly, in a way that has little to do with his lack of sleep or his injuries, but he’s too grateful for Rhodes keeping his temper while he can’t to ignore him now. “What’s that?”

“Tony is nothing like his father.”

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 8

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The reader arrives and she has a plus one.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of blood, torture, medical procedures.

What happens next can only be described as organised chaos. Tony shouts orders at F.R.I.D.A.Y, telling the AI to open the gate and have the Med Team ready. Then he's locking down the compound, all appointments and meetings cancelled for the next 72 hours.

Bruce dashes to the medical wing as the others make for the nearest door. Tony, Rhodes, Vision and Wanda are in the air, and heading towards the gate you're currently stumbling through, the moment the door opens. Steve and Bucky are sprinting like they've never sprinted before. Natasha jumps into one of the many golf carts that are scattered around the compound, as Sam jumps in alongside her as she speeds off. Pepper and Maria wait anxiously at the door.

Tony and Rhodes get to you first, Wanda and Vision close behind. When they reach you, you've made it through the hidden gate and have somehow started to make your way up the grass bank. Pietro is now in your arms bridal style and Tony and Rhodes quickly realise you must be enhanced in someway, even if you are stumbling.

You drop to your knees a mix of exhaustion and relief as they reach you. Wanda whispers Pietro's name and runs her fingers through his mattered hair. You're clinging to him still as Wanda speaks to him in Sokovian. Steve and Bucky arrive next but you don't see or acknowledge them.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y scan them both, send all the results to the Med Team and tell them we're going to need two cradles."

Before anyone else has chance to speak your voice, horse and weary breaks through.

"He's had two lots of adrenaline, four shots of morphine, he's malnourished, he has multiple broken bones and lacerations, and his captors broke Geneva."

They all knew what that meant. When Geneva was mentioned by agents, it was to reference the Geneva Convention and how prisoners of war should be treated. You stating it had been broken meant Pietro had been tortured.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, pass all that on to the Med Team."

You're still hanging on to him as Nat arrives, kneeling at your side.

"Sweetie, you need to hand him over. Let Tony take him."

"But I promised" You reply, "I promised I'd get him back. I promised."

"You made it sweetie. You're at the compound. Let Tony take him to the Med Team."

You nod and Tony takes him from your arms, Wanda kisses Pietro's head and Tony takes to the air. Wanda follows immediately. Vision follows but not before giving you a brief thank you. You watch them go as tears begin to pour down your face.

"She needs a medic." Rhodey says first, Sam and Nat agreeing. Steve and Bucky who haven't uttered a word since seeing you, remain silent and staring.

"I'm fine." You reply "I just need a minute."

Nat goes to speak again but you cut her off.

"Go to her."

"What? I'm not leaving you, and I'm definitely not leaving you here on the damn floor."

"Nat, she's your soul sister too. She's just found out her dead brother is alive. Go."

Nat looks unsure.

"We've got her." Sam assures, knowing that you're right. Wanda would need her.

"Please Nat, go."

"Fine, but don't let her leave." Nat instructs the others as she heads towards the golf cart.

"We won't." Steve confirms, finally broken from his trance.

"Let's get her up to the medics, it'll be quicker if I take her." Rhodes says.

"Her is here, and can hear you." You snark, "and I'm fine."

You try to stand but stumble. Bucky reacts quickly and shoots forward grabbing you, first with an arm around your waist and then lifting you into his arms, bridal style. You hiss as he lifts you and he reacts without thinking straight, placing a kiss on your forehead before muttering.

"Sorry doll."

You relax in his arms and look up and him. His eyes connect with yours and there's a whirling in your stomach, a tightness in your chest and an instant feeling of admiration, affection and love. Your body relaxing more as a realisation washed over you. You didn't know where you were, how you'd got there, hell you couldn't be sure of your own name right now and you definitely weren't sure of who this beautiful man holding you was, but you did know it was your soulmate. You let out a weak smile.

"Hey you." you said fondly, before going floppy in Bucky's arms.

You were unconscious and your heart rate was slowing.

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@calwitch @slowlyshycomputer @paasrin @cjand10

[literaryavenger]

Avengers: Age of Ultron

Summary: You and Sam are disconnected from the world during a mission in the Amazon while following a lead to track down Bucky. How much stuff can really happen in a week?

Pairing: platonic!Steve Rogers x F!Reader, platonic!Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader, platonic!Sam Wilson x F!Reader

Warnings: Language. Reader being dramatic. My poor attempts at being funny. Nothing much, really.

Word Count: 1.6K

A/N: I know in the gif there's a random woman (right in the middle) and I think it may be an edit, but this is the best gif I found for this scene so just pretend that's you, the reader lol.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

After the fall of Shield you're stuck with Sam to look for Bucky while Steve teamed up once again with the Avengers to retrieve Loki’s staff and bring Hydra down once and for all.

They’ve been doing a good job apparently, unlike you and Sam that have had no luck tracking down your missing supersoldier.

Tonight you get a break, though, as you got invited to the party Stark is throwing to ‘celebrate the revels of victory’, as the Captain so normally put it in his text.

When you step out of the elevator you see Natasha on the couch talking to Colonel Rhodes and you walk over to say hi.

You chat a bit with them before Rhodey, as he told you to call him, goes to look for Tony and you make your way to the bar with Nat.

“So... how’s the testosterone filled team treating you?” you ask her while she makes you your favorite drink without you even having to ask.

“If you saw how much time those guys spend on their hair, you’d know you and I bring more testosterone to the table than them.” She tells you smirking and you laugh as you take the drink she hands you.

You look around you and notice Bruce making his way to the bar, so you turn back to Natasha and say “Here comes your damsel in distress.” and you wink at her as walk away, going to find someone you know.

You find Sam at the pool tables. “Hey, you just missed me kicking Steve’s ass.” he says when he sees you.

“Are you sure you weren’t just daydreaming, birdboy?” he tries to glare at you but ends up laughing with you, inviting you to play with him.

Obviously, you beat him and then suddenly he’s not in the mood to play anymore.

“Aww, are you mad I kicked your ass?” you coo at him and giggle at his pout.

You guys find Steve and start making your way to the second floor as he tells you about the team’s last mission.

“Sounds like a hell of a fight, sorry we missed it.” Sam says.

“If I had known it was going to be a firefight I absolutely would have called you.” Steve said.

“No, we’re not actually sorry.” you clarify ”He’s just trying to sound tough.” they both laugh with you.

“Yeah, we’re very happy chasing cold leads on our missing persons case. Avenging is your world.” Sam says as you make it to the overlook.

“Your world is crazy.” you add, seeing the whole room from your elevated point of view.

“Be it ever so humble.” Steve says, looking around too.

“You find a place in Brooklyn yet?” you ask after a moment of silence.

“I don't think I can afford a place in Brooklyn.” he says, glancing at you and you laugh.

“Well, home is home, you know?” Sam says.

You keep talking for a bit, then make your way downstairs where you meet new people here and there and chat with various Avengers, until eventually it gets late.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here tonight?” Steve asks you and Sam while you wait for the elevator “We have guest rooms.”

“As much as I’d like to see how Stark lives,” you start “we have an early flight tomorrow.”

“We’re following some breadcrumbs on our missing robot.” Sam clarifies at Steve’s confused look, making both him and you roll your eyes.

“Gotcha. Good luck.” he says directly to you, glancing at Sam that's now glaring at you both while you chuckle.

You say your goodnights and step into the elevator. You give Sam a ride to his apartment and then drive to your own, going to bed right away.

You begrudgingly wake up earlier than you would’ve liked to and meet up with Sam to catch your flight.

“Morning, sunshine.” he says, chuckling at your hangover state.

“Bite me, Wilson.” is all you can muster the energy to say.

“Why did you drink so much last night if you knew we had to wake up early?” he's not even trying to hide his amusement.

“It’s not how much, it’s what.” you say while sipping the coffee he thankfully brought you. “This is the last time I let Romanoff make my drinks.”

“Well, have a long flight so you’ll have time to sleep.” he says, letting you rest your head on his shoulder while wrapping his arm around you, stroking your arm as you wait for your plane to start boarding.

“Thank fucking god.” you mumble and you hear him laugh quietly.

You’ve gotten close with Sam since you started your manhunt for the Winter Soldier previously known as Sergeant James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes. 

You already spent a lot of time together when you started with both Sam and Steve, but ever since the Captain started taking down Hydra bases with the Avengers all your time is now spent solely with the Falcon. 

You fly together everywhere your leads take you, you spend days on end in each other’s company and you research together as much as you can about Bucky and Hydra in between missions when you’re home.

You’re basically best friends now.

Sometimes you think the only good thing that honestly has come from your search is your friendship with Sam at this point, but you’re trying to stay positive knowing how much this means to Steve.

You board the plane and, once again, rest your head on Sam’s shoulder as you fall asleep.

When you wake up, about an hour before landing, you notice Sam fell asleep too. You smile at his peaceful face, it’s always nicer to be around him when he’s not talking shit. 

You finally land and get ready to spend a whole week in the middle of the Amazon with no reception and just Sam’s dumb ass for company.

-

“We really don’t get paid enough for this shit.” you say as you sit back in your seat with your eyes closed, your body almost giving out because of exhaustion. 

“Now, that’s something we can agree on.” Sam chuckles, as tired as you and still a fucking ray of sunshine. How does he do it, you don’t know.

You’ve just spent a hellish week in the depths of the Amazon forest. You almost died about three thousand and sixteen times and all you have to show for it is scars and bruises and bites of insects the size of cats. 

You didn’t even have time to clean up before your flight, the closest thing to a shower you had all week being when you fell into a river trying to help Sam out and then both of you almost fell down a waterfall.

A. Fucking. Waterfall.

You both basically passed out during the flight, being awakened suddenly after what felt like only a second by a flight attendant. Both of you were so startled that you almost pulled your guns on her.

You're already waiting in line for a taxi before it even crosses your mind to check your phone. Really, how much stuff could have happened in the seven days you were gone?

Turns out, a lot.

Like literally the robot uprisings and flying cities kind of a lot.

You were frozen staring at your phone when Sam’s voice finally registers as he says your name and shakes you a little, effectively taking you out of your daze.

“Have you checked your phone?” you ask, ignoring all his questions, still scrolling through the hundreds of texts from both Natasha and Steve.

“What the hell…” is all you hear from him a minute later and you don't need to look up to know his actions are now mirroring your own.

Before you know it you're entering a taxi and giving the address of the Avengers Tower while ignoring the skeptical look on the driver’s face once he takes notice of your disheveled appearance.

You're both on your phones in a second, you with Natasha and Sam with Steve, letting them know you're alive and assuring yourselves that they're okay too.

They greet you at the front door of the Tower, offering you to stay here for the night and this time you both accept. 

After a much needed shower, you sit down with the rest of the team for dinner and they tell you in more detail about what happened.

Natasha waits until you're alone in her room to tell you about Bruce, and you do your best to comfort her resulting in both of you falling asleep in her bed. 

The morning after Steve tells you and Sam that the remaining Avengers are be relocating to a new facility in Upstate New York, and asks you both to join the team.

Needless to say, neither of you need more than a second to think about it. Obviously you're both in.

You spend the next few months getting to know the Avengers both old and new while the new building was being restructured, and now here you are at the new Avengers Compound for your first day as an official Avenger.

Clint’s home with his family, you and Nat visited when Laura gave birth to little Nathaniel.

Thor’s got some big space adventure, Banner is still nowhere to be found and Tony’s on his way home to Pepper.

So now it’s up to Natasha and Steve to train the new Avengers: Rhodey aka War Machine, Vision, Sam aka the Falcon, Wanda and, proudly, you.

Steve and Natasha enter the room you were all waiting in and everyone falls silent, very eager to try you new suits and gadgets, courtesy of Stark Industries. 

“Avengers…” Steve says, in his captain voice.

This is gonna be fun. 

Requested taglist: @sapphirebarnes